Flame-grilled Hot Dogs and Scorched Woodpeckers

Like most Americans, I celebrated the 4th of July weekend with family, doing the typical things like picnicking outside all day, tossing the ball around, and cruising a lake in a boat in search of a good fishing hole.  Most people are able to focus on these activities exclusively; birders always have the incidental birding meter running. That’s how you ride in a boat and show your companions a patriotic scene, fitting for the weekend.

Bald Eagle NestIt’s also how you can point out to Grandma during that all-day gathering that the bird that flushes from the house each time someone goes in or out is actually a pretty cool bird and not some lame Robin that none of us can stand to have making a mess on our house.

Eastern Phoebe nestUnlike the Robin, the Eastern Phoebe’s nest is quite aesthetically pleasing and well-constructed.

Eastern Phoebe nestI almost passed on the opportunity to get crushing photos of the most accommodating Eastern Phoebe I’ve ever seen. That would have been a shame.

Eastern PhoebeEastern PhoebeBut don’t let me fool you, it wasn’t all incidental birding.  I was in northern Minnesota, after all, a land ripe with fascinating birds in all seasons. Local birding friend, Julie, had told me about a Connecticut Warbler she had recently found in a Black Spruce/Tamarack bog not more than 20 minutes from my parents’ house.  The Connecticut was a bird I had previously only had as heard-only in the Sax-Zim Bog, so I rose early one morning donning some knee-high rubber boots, long sleeves, long pants, and an unhealthy dousing of bug spray.  I was going all in to mosquito central.  No sane person does this.bogBut we die-hard birders do, especially when we think of the possible reward of visuals of a skulker like the Connecticut. It’s worth some welts and the loss of a little sleep.  Julie had made things easy for me by marking a tree where the Connecticut had set up a territory along this abandoned, water-logged road pictured above. However, as we are getting into July, the Warblers just don’t sing as much.  When I got to the spot after hiking a quarter mile, I didn’t hear it.  But patience eventually rewarded me with that clear, ringing sound of the Connecticut: “Bea-cher, bea-cher, bea-cherbeach!” After waiting it out a little longer, I did get some great up-close looks, but I wasn’t quick enough to get a photo.  Seeing one was a good improvement on my heard-only lifer, but I really wanted that photo.  Maybe this Warbler was busy with a nest because it never did show itself again despite me waiting for an insane amount of time in the cloud of mosquitoes. I finally decided to call it quits and head back to rejoin the family.  A heard-only Boreal Chickadee and a Lincoln’s Sparrow were a couple of good birds on the hike out.

The next day on our final morning in the northwoods, I decided to give Julie’s spot one more try.  That Connecticut photo seemed in reach; like with the Phoebe, it would be foolish to pass on the opportunity to try. Thanks to a late night fireworks show, I was a little slower getting out of bed that next morning.  In fact, I arrived at the trail a full 40 minutes later than the day before.  Considering I had heard the bird right away that day and that it was singing sporadically, I didn’t like my chances for a repeat on the visual I got. When I got there and opened the car door, though, I didn’t hear the Connecticut but instead heard something just as cool–the unmistakable drumming of a Black-backed Woodpecker! And like that my search priorities shifted. I followed the sound of the steady drumming which echoed through the bog. And there, there he was just 10 feet off the waterlogged road about 10 feet up. I was blown away.

Black-backed Woodpecker

The Black-backed was not a lifer, but I have never seen a male before with his bright yellow crown and have always wanted to.  In a sense this felt just as fresh as a lifer. So I set out to accomplish one goal (photo of the COWA) and inadvertently and delightfully accomplished another.

I spent a lot of time enjoying this Woodpecker all while keeping an ear open for the Connecticut which did not vocalize even once. Black-backed WoodpeckerHere you can see and hear that distinctive drumming.  It’s such a cool sound.

I’ve heard that Black-backed Woodpeckers are quite tame and don’t really care about a person’s presence.  This experience certainly seemed to back that theory up. And if you have doubts about whether this bird was appropriately named…

Black-backed Woodpecker Black-backed Woodpecker Black-backed WoodpeckerBlack-backed Woodpecker Black-backed WoodpeckerHere’s another video.  I was hoping to capture him drumming some more, but instead caught him itching himself. Mosquito bite?

Eventually the bird went on its way, and so did I, trying to dig up that Connecticut.  I finally called it quits on the Warbler, vowing to try again next year when it was earlier in the breeding season and the birds’ hormones are still raging causing them to be more vocal. On my way back to the car I again spotted the Black-backed Woodpecker, but I noticed something different–no yellow crown, a female!

Black-backed WoodpeckerThrilled with the bonus Woodpecker, I continued my waterlogged hike back to the car.  Then I again heard a Black-backed Woodpecker a couple hundred yards from the first two, and then I saw one of them following the other around.  I thought they must be those two that I saw earlier.  I glassed the two birds as one followed the other up a Spruce and was shocked to see that both were males–an adult being followed by this juvenile!

Black-backed Woodpecker

This meant I had for sure seen three different Black-backed Woodpeckers and maybe four if the second adult male was a different bird than the first.  It’s not everyday you see a Black-backed Woodpecker, let alone a small pile of them.  Additionally, seeing a good northern bird like this outside of a birding mecca like the Sax-Zim Bog and close to “home” is always a huge thrill for me.  This encounter did not go unappreciated by me and will likely be one of my all-time birding highlights.

The Tanager Trifecta

Summer TanagerOne of the most popular birds in Minnesota this summer has been the Summer Tanager discovered by Wilmer Fernandez at the University of Minnesota’s Landscape Arboretum in Chanhassen.  Summer Tanager is rare-regular in the state, but the fact that this bachelor bird was in the Twin Cities and singing endlessly on territory made it all the rage for the better part of a week.  Not even the Arboretum’s steep per person entry fee could keep birders away, including yours truly.

Summer TanagerIf you’ve been following ABWCH this past spring, you may recall that I already made a Summer Tanager chase to get my lifer.  So why did I go after another if I’m not a county lister? Two reasons: this bird was solid red, unlike that tye-died creature I saw earlier this year, and this bird was singing on territory.  I wanted the full SUTA experience.  That quick migrant sighting didn’t fill the void.  Plus this bird was relatively close to home, and I had the time off.

Summer TanagerA couple of others who had the time off were teaching colleagues Brad Nelson and Theresa Nelson. The mother-son Nelson duo joined me on this little excursion. Our semi-annual birding get-togethers are always productive and fun–the last time the three of us met up was over a Snowy Owl near one of the towns in our district. Just like we had no problem getting that Owl, seeing this Tanager was a piece of cake.  We could hear it singing immediately once we got out of the car at the nut trees section of the Arboretum where it apparently has set up shop for the season.  We spent the better part of an hour following it around as it sang endlessly from its various perches, not even stopping its song while it feasted on insects:

Summer TanagerSummer TanagerIt’s been the year of the Tanager here in MN. To close out this post, here’s a pic of each of the two rare-regular Tanagers and a brand new Scarlet Tanager all seen in state this year.  Sorry for turning the Scarlet into a trash bird on this blog. No, I’m not–they are still an exciting bird and this post celebrates all things Tanager.

Western TanagerSummer Tanager

Scarlet Tanager

Two birds in the bush…

…are better than a stupid Le Conte’s Sparrow in the grass.

It has been my mission this summer to mop up on the embarrassing holes in my life list. The source of this embarrassment lies in the fact that these birds live here and can be found here regularly, as in every single year. Other than the fact that some of these birds are skulkers, I really have no decent excuse for why I have not been a diligent birder in this regard.  While I did manage to take care of business with several of these buggers on Tommy D’s latest MN trip and on a failed rarity chase (blog posts to come), I tried to cross another one off the list a couple weeks ago when I was Up North over Memorial Day Weekend.

I was enticed to go after Le Conte’s Sparrow when the Warbler Wednesday crew of the Sax-Zim Bog turned up multiple Le Conte’s Sparrows in the sedge meadows along Stone Lake Road.  The crushing good looks and photos they posted were reason to hit up the Bog at dawn and preempted a search for Great Grays, a species which has been seen with surprising frequency this summer.

As I made my way to the Bog leaving the house around 5ish, I saw a good-looking blob in the middle of the road near my parents’ house. That good-looking blob flew up to a branch with an equally good-looking blob giving me a double dose of Barred Owls.

Barred OwlUnfortunately I did not pause long enough to enjoy these Owls as I was in a hurry to get down to the Le Conte’s spot.  I wanted to get that out of the way and did not want birding to consume much time since we were visiting family.  So I grabbed a couple quick photos of one of the birds in the dim, drippy forest and moved on.

Barred Owl Barred Owl Barred Owl

My hustle was all for naught. Despite a diligent Sparrow search where I walked up and down Stone Lake Road, I could not detect the bird.  Not even a Black-billed Cuckoo calling in the distance or an Alder Flycatcher offering me free beer made things better.  I should have hung out with the Barred Owls.  No beer, but they might have cooked for me.

Del Mar

“What’s next?”–that was the ending of my last post. Not even 24 hours after those words were written, I was trying to pick my jaw up off the ground and not even 24 hours after that I was trying to pick it up for the second time. On this busy weekend with a house full of company for Marin’s dance recital, I should not even have been birding especially after I sneaked out for those Whistling-Ducks. And truthfully I’ve been wanting to slow down my birding.  So what happened?

With every good intention, I decided to bring Marin to Robbins Island Park in Willmar on Sunday morning.  It was a beautiful day, company had just left, and she had had a very busy weekend with one performance done and another to come that afternoon.  We were going to the park to have fun.  It wasn’t really about the birds.  I even left my camera at home. Sure, I brought my binoculars along–after all, I was keeping an ear and eye out for my county Black-throated Green Warbler while at the park. Migration is still going on (sort of).  I truly did not care about any other bird at the park.

After playing on what’s left of the playground equipment there, Marin wanted to check out the swimming beach on Foot Lake.  I followed her there unenthusiastically–it’s a gross beach and not very interesting bird-wise. Unless Canada Geese are your thing. A quick flash of wings of a whitish shorebird caught my eye at the far end of the beach. Why not–might as well check it out with the binocs.  There was nothing else to do.  Now I tell you that, truly, there have only been three times where I have pulled up binoculars on a bird that is unidentifiable to the naked eye only to be gobsmacked by what the optics revealed. This was one of those times. The little shorebird was a freaking endangered PIPING PLOVER!

And then it hit me. I have no camera, I HAVE NO CAMERA! I hit the phone hard calling up all the local guys one after another.  Only Steve answered, and I told him to hustle over and bring a camera.  I also called Melissa and had her mobilize to bring me my camera. We had to document this for our county. Marin was a champ and patiently waited as I kept my eye on this bird until “reinforcements” could arrive.  It finally dawned on me that I should grab a crappy cell phone pic just for documentation.

Steve got there in minutes (which felt excruciatingly long) and was able to snap some pics of this bird that was a lifer for him and a state/county first for me. At least we had the documentation wrapped up; now I was antsy for my camera so I could photograph this bird that was not even 20 feet away. Once I placed that call to Melissa I knew my wait would be 20-30 minutes (an eternity it seemed). No worries, Steve and I visited as we enjoyed the sight of the Plover roving up and down the shoreline feeding the whole time.  It was very content. Then Steve uttered some sickening words: “There it goes!” We watched it fly across the park to another part of the lake, unsure of where it went. 30 seconds later Melissa pulled in with my camera…

Steve and I searched for awhile and then decided to hit the beach one last time just in case it returned. And wouldn’t you know, it did!  Forget regular documentation, it was crush time.

Piping PloverPiping PloverPiping PloverNotice anything unusual about this PIPL? Naked legs! Almost every Piping Plover from the Great Lakes and Northern Great Plains populations are banded. The Northern Great Plains and Atlantic Coast populations of PIPL are listed as threatened while the Great Lakes population is listed as endangered. This bird that loves undisturbed, large sandy beach areas is in trouble.  Getting to see one is a big deal.

Piping PloverPiping PloverI still cannot get over this opportunity. I got my Piping Plover lifer last summer on Wisconsin’s Long Island right near Madeline Island in the Chequamegon Bay area of Lake Superior.  I paid a hefty sum of money to charter a boat to get a brief, bobbing, distant look at this special bird. Now I had a lengthy look at one at my feet at home for free. Even better was that other birders were able to come out and enjoy this bird with some even getting their life looks at it.  So, thanks, Mar, for taking me to the beach! It just goes to show that any bird can show up anytime, anywhere. Just when you dismiss a park as being mediocre, it totally surprises you.

Speaking of more surprises, after I dropped the kids off at school on Monday morning I went out to our county’s shorebird spot. While I was scanning for shorebirds, a White-faced Ibis dropped out of the sky and landed right in front of me!  This is a rare bird for our area and one I never expected to get for the county.

White-faced Ibis

White-faced IbisI called Steve, and he was just about to ditch work when it all the sudden decided to fly away, never to be seen again. I guess I was in the right place at the right time.  Steve wasn’t interested in the only other shorebird there, a Stilt Sandpiper.

Stilt Sandpiper

It had been an epic two days of local birding on the heels of a very active vagrant season for me.  I really do want to slow the birding down, but the birds are not making it easy on me. Even when I returned home after the Ibis, I was greeted by the cheerful song of a new yard bird. And it wasn’t just any bird, it was the Chestnut-sided Warbler, the very bird that got me addicted to this hobby in the first place.

Chestnut-sided Warbler

Slippin’ on Down to the Oasis

It was back-to-back weekends in North Dakota for ABWCH, though this latter visit was not about nabbing some bird on my wishlist.  Rather, it was about Melissa crossing off an item on the much more important bucket list–seeing Garth Brooks perform in Fargo. The old guy is alright in my book too, so despite the fact that several really good state birds for me were popping up left and right, I wasn’t perturbed about leaving home and was even kind of looking forward to this non-birding trip.  But then while hanging with Fargo friends, John and Sarah, before the concert, things took a turn in the bird anxiety department… Joel Schmidt called.  I didn’t even want to pick it up. But like the cat, curiosity got the best of me: Cattle Egret. State birds always offer up new chances, but a county bird like this?

Then during the concert came the one-two from Steve: a pic of his new county bird and the discovery of some would-be lifer Short-billed Dowitchers. My concert beer was not chasing the blues away; maybe I should’ve also tried the whiskey drowning approach.

Despite my woes, the night was still highly enjoyable and optimism for the next day was winning.  Perhaps these birds would be waiting for me back home. Perhaps I’d get my state Say’s Phoebe at Felton Prairie IBA on the way home. As I was mulling this over while going on a Starbucks run this morning, I noticed a Scheels sporting goods store and recalled some eBird reports I had studied awhile back: Gray Partridge inhabiting a vacant lot nearby. Since I was in the area I thought, ‘Why not?’  But ambitious I was not–driving around the perimeter of the lot would have to suffice.  This lot was a sea of green in the concrete, retail jungle.  There was a large, brushy mound in the center of the grassy plot, a rather perfect home for this species that likes thin cover.

Scheels lot

And sure enough, I spied two bulbous bodies out in the open! I couldn’t believe I was getting an opportunity to view and photograph Gray Partridge.  I honestly thought this would never, ever happen.  Stoked doesn’t even begin to describe what I was feeling.

Gray Partridge

The pair was inseparable.  I could not believe I was witnessing this.  I’ve only ever seen this bird flushing away from me or dead in the hand.  This was simply incredible.

Gray PartridgeGray PartridgeGray Partridge

Despite its name, this is by no means a dull-looking bird. The male is simply brilliant.

Gray Partridge

Gray PartridgeEventually I had to pry myself away from these birds to complete that coffee/breakfast errand I was on.   But afterward, I swung by the lot one more time and the birds were now in crushing distance from the road!  Moreover, the male stood up on his haunches and showed off that impressive rusty belly of his.

Gray PartridgeGray PartridgeI may have only been 900 feet above sea level, but my head was in the clouds.  This is an opportunity I will likely never replicate again.  The goings-on back home were but a distant thought. Oh, I’ll be okay.

And the Award for Worst Birder goes to…

Dear Regular Readers,

I hate to disappoint both of you, but this is not the next installment of the Arizona series.  Believe it or not, but birding after Arizona does exist and the birds back home don’t wait for blog posts to be written.  This all brings us to today’s story that is a worthy interruption of   the AZ trip reports.  It decisively crushed my moping for not being in AZ anymore.  I think you’ll concur.

So here goes. On Monday, November 2nd, my wife and I each had a scheduled day off.  With the kids in school, I asked her what her plans were.  When she said she was grading papers all day, the spousal guilt was gone and the plans to chase a Surf Scoter on Orchard Lake in Lakeville were on.

Orchard LakeI drove along the west shore of the lake and pulled into a boat launch to scan the waters.  Right away I saw a binocular-clad gentleman loading a spotting scope into a shiny Prius–this birder could be spotted a mile away.  I asked him if he saw the duck.  He told me no and said he’d missed on it multiple times.  Odd, I thought, as I recalled the duck being reported every single day for the better part of a week.  After this exchange, he and I both headed to Orchard Lake Park on the south end of the lake where people had said was the best place from which to see the Scoter.  He had the lead as I followed his car into the parking lot.  Rather than parking in a stall, he faced his vehicle directly at the water.  I parked, looked at the water and instantly saw a distant, giant, black-and-white blob that had Surf Scoter GISS written all over it. Before I could get my binoculars up to verify, the other birder, who never left his car, turned around after 30 seconds and drove out of the park!  My desire to look at my Surf Scoter lifer was suddenly replaced by the fear that this guy might have, somehow, missed it.  Was it diving when he looked?  Did he not recognize this juvenile form of this species?  Did he see it, get his tic, and just peel out? Even if the guy was just a lister, who doesn’t spend at least a couple minutes enjoying looking at an ocean-going Scoter in MINNESOTA I panicked. I hesitated.  Do I race after him on foot and pound on his trunk? Do I hop in my car and chase him down? You can’t save them all, I guess. Oh, well.  Let’s have a look at that Surf Scoter…

Surf ScoterThis is now my fifth species of sea duck in Minnesota with White-winged Scoter, Harlequin Duck, Common Eider, and Long-tailed Duck making up the others.  I kind of prefer my sea ducks on the turbulent, cold waters of Lake Superior on a gray day.  That kind of backdrop adds to the mystique and allure of sea ducks. Seeing one on a placid metro lake reflecting lingering fall colors on a 72° day is just kind of so-so.

Surf ScoterBut even still. It’s cool. I mean, it’s a Scoter.

Surf Scoter

This Scoter was kind enough to land in a location which would cause me to literally drive right by my brother’s office in Burnsville.  Having lunch with Jason made a successful chase even better, all the more so because he took me to a secret hole-in-the-wall called J’s Cafe with amazing down-home cooking.  After catching up with Jason, it was time to hit the road: he had to get back to the office, and I had to make the 2-hour drive home to pick up my kids after school.

Despite being crunched for time, there’s always time for one more bird.  I took a route home through Glencoe, hoping to see Pumpkins, the reliable, super-early Snowy Owl that got its name from landing on a cart of pumpkins for sale. Pumpkins wasn’t selling any pumpkins to me, though.

Moving on, I was racing the clock to get back in time for the kids.  When I was traveling down a county road just a few miles away from the school, I saw a large raptor perched on a pole.  I always look even though practically every raptor is a Red-tailed Hawk in these parts.  As I streaked by, I saw the GISS for a Red-tail was off, way off.  I stopped to look.

IMG_6428

I saw heavy streaking on the breast on this large bird and a white eyebrow, and thought I just might be looking at a juvenile Northern Goshawk! Instantly I started taking pictures like mad to document such a rarity.  But honestly, as I looked at the bird, I wondered, ‘What in the world is this thing?’  Comparing my photos to Goshawk photos on my phone, I saw that was wrong.  I realized then that the face looked like that of a Falcon. The best I could figure on my limited knowledge was that it was a juvenile Peregrine Falcon–the most probable of all the larger Falcons for our area.  A Peregrine is one of those feel-good birds.  It’s not listserv-worthy, but it’s just rare enough that when you lay your head on your pillow at night you think, ‘That was pretty neat.’  It’s the kind where you giddily submit your eBird checklist and post a picture to the regional birding FB group…even if it didn’t quite look like juvenile Peregrines in Sibley or online…

That’s when my naivete was laid bare to all. I hadn’t studied for the test. I winged it. When I saw there was a lengthy comment from Bob Dunlap, one of the lords of bird identification in Minnesota, I couldn’t read his words fast enough.  Bob was asking for more photos and asked me about my impression of the size.  The all-gray cheek and faint mustache wasn’t exactly giving him a Peregrine vibe on this Falcon… To remove all doubt about his line of thinking, he followed up with another comment, “And by the way, Merlin is not the direction I’m leaning…”

No. Nooooo way.  A Gyr–? I couldn’t even type the name; I was afraid to even think it might be true.  It couldn’t be true. Could it?  I mean, a bird that’s never been in Minnesota since I started birding? Here? In the home county? Unh-uh.  Can’t be. But under Bob’s advisement I sent out a cautionary report of a possible G….Gy…Gyr…Gyrfalcon on both the listserv and the Minnesota Birding FB group.  Beforehand, I set up a new page on this blog, called “Falcon Photos,” where I dumped all my photos so people could analyze them.

The responses were as overwhelming as they were fast:

“Wow!!! Gray type juvenile Gyrfalcon for sure! Awesome find, and great photo!” -Alex Lamoreaux, Hawk Ridge Bird Observatory Counter

No question gyr!” -Kathleen MacAulay, Veterinary Intern at the Raptor Center

“That looks like a gyr to me.” -Jean Matheny, Falconer

“Great bird. Looks like a gyr to me. I chase sightings in S.D. where they are annual visitors on the grasslands near Pierre.” -Jim Williams, Bird Blogger/Columnist for the Star Tribune

And here was the one that put a big fat bow on it all:

“Josh – My first impression was a juvenile gray-morph Gyrfalcon, so I asked Frank Nicoletti (Hawk Ridge bander & former counter, and one of MN’s foremost raptor experts) his opinion. Without hesitation, he confirmed the ID as a juv Gyr. Hope this helps, and nice find!” -Kim Eckert, one of MN’s most experienced and highly regarded birders

GYRFALCON!!!!

GyrfalconGyrfalconGyrfalconGyrfalconI still can’t believe I saw this bird; the adrenaline is still pumping.  I thought it would be another 10 years at least before I’d get this arctic visitor on my Minnesota list (I got my lifer in WI last winter).  Then I see a Gyrfalcon in my own county…and I never even knew it.  I was caught off guard and completely unprepared for encountering such a rarity.  It just goes to show that one can never study enough in this hobby and that even the most boring, familiar back roads can hold the monumental.  So thanks, Bob, for chasing me down and pounding on my trunk.

I, Too, Was a Patch Birder Once

September 6th was World Shorebirds Day, and as any local library or video store can attest, I am not always known for my punctuality.  So, I bring forth my shorebird offerings to the blogosphere a day late (or two) and few shorebirds short. Like any birder thinking inside the box, when August rolled around I was zeroed in on shorebirds as they are making their epic, transhemispheric migrations and occasionally stop over for a meal and a rest on their way south.

One always hopes for a classic mudflat on a drawn-down lake or a flooded field when shorebirding.  Sometimes those just can’t be found.  Sometimes one must bird the bottom of the barrel…or the top of a poop pond.  I scoured many a wastewater treatment facilities at small municipalities in the area.  Occasionally I came up with some solids, like this trio of Red-necked Phalaropes.

Red-necked Phalarope

Red-necked Phalaropes at Blomkest WTP

Red-necked Phalarope

Or some Semipalmated Sandpipers, which I pleasantly discovered was a new county bird after-the-fact.

Semipalmated Sandpiper

Semipalmated Sandpipers at Lake Lillian WTP

Once I even got some good looks at a nice year bird, the Semipalmated Plover.

Semipalmated Plover at Bird Island WTP

Semipalmated Plover at Bird Island WTP

Bad dad moment confession: the kids were with me for this one but in the car, opting to watch their video instead of shorebirds; half-way home I remembered this bird is one Evan had never seen and I had killer-no-binos-needed looks.  You might say I flushed that opportunity away. Amiright?

Semipalmated Plover

I was as red-faced as this Stilt Sandpiper, which isn’t much but the appropriate amount since Evan is a take-it-or-leave-it birder these days.

Stilt Sandpiper

Stilt Sandpiper at Bird Island WTP

Growing tired of the Tour-de Ponds, I kinda gave up on birding for awhile as work responsibilities took up more of my time.  Then one day while I was sitting at home I had a recollection that instantly morphed into an epiphany.  Near the end of July I remembered driving home with the family late in the evening after having spent the weekend in Duluth, and I recalled seeing a small, flooded spot in a soybean field not far from home with some sandpipery-looking birds even.  We were too tired to stop, and so this patch was soon forgotten and never thought about for weeks. Until that moment.  Instantly I headed for the door as I realized I had left a habitat-island of prime shorebird mudflats unchecked for all that time.  When I got out there and saw how perfect the spot was in a landscape bereft of optimal habitat, I was kicking myself.

shorebird spotThe flooded drain tile intake that created this spot was only about two acres in size.  When there is no other habitat around, that is all you need.  At first, there was nothing but Killdeer and the odd Lesser Yellowlegs or two, harbingers of good things to come.

Lesser YellowlegsSo this is the story of my accidental patch.  Having it so close to home gave me the opportunity to check it multiple times a day, day after day.  Before I knew it, I was becoming a devoted patch birder whose persistence started to pay dividends in things like a pair of dapper Baird’s Sandpipers.

Baird's Sandpiper

Baird's Sandpiper

Having spent a great deal of time with these birds in good light, I think it’s fair to say that the Baird’s is near the top of my favorite shorebirds list.Baird's Sandpiper

Baird's SandpiperOne of the benefits of a having a patch is that, in addition to looking for new birds that have joined the party, you can also keep tabs on the regulars, like the two Stilt Sandpipers that were there day in and day out.

Stilt Sandpiper

Stilt Sandpiper

It was always exciting when there was someone new in the mix.  This lone Semipalmated Plover was one of my favorites.  Every day I looked for it among the myriad of Killdeer and was always relieved whenever I found it had decided to stick around for just one more day.  I also made good on my previous failing and got Evan this lifer.

Semipalmated Plover

Semipalmated Plover

Semipalmated PloverThis patch I found turned out to be a great workshop on shorebird identification for myself.  I had these birds close (30 feet or less) and in great light when I visited in the morning.  I could clearly see subtle differences in coloration, differences in movements and behaviors, and relative size comparisons to other shorebirds.  Even the ubiquitous Killdeer would sometimes do something interesting.

Killdeer

Often I would put my binoculars and camera down just to see if I could notice these things with the naked eye. Something happened that I never expected to happen–my confidence in identifying shorebirds went way up.  And now I can concur with Nate the Machine that shorebirds really aren’t that hard after all.  I would add that they are actually pretty fun too.  In all, I tallied 11 shorebird species as an accidental patch birder.  The numbers of each species were small and consistent, which made counting the birds a fun, manageable task.

As time and hot weather went on, the water kept receding in the ephemeral patch until there was nothing but some wet mud which was enough to sustain the persistent Killdeer and my Semipalmated Plover buddy but nothing else. Presently the ground is dry, and my patch birding days are over for now.  But not my hopes.  After all, it could still rain cats and dogs and big Plovers this fall, and I’ll be back in business. Stay tuned!

Kip-Kip-Hooray!

Birds are a constant distraction.  Even as I was packing up the car at my parents’ house on June 28th after a weekend Up North, I saw some blackbirds that I suspected were Brewer’s, a bird I just discovered to be in the area, but I wanted to be sure.  I heard a vocalization and went to fetch my iPod from the car to listen.  Before I could even look it up, though, I heard “Kip-kip-kip-kip” coming from the small stand of Red Pines in my parents’ yard.  I knew that sound–I had been studying it in the hopes of finding a life bird some day–Red Crossbills!! I was just about to walk in that direction to find them when the nomadic flock flew in and landed in the Spruce right next to my car!

Many of the birds were juveniles.  Still, this was my first time looking at a crossed beak on anything, so it was pretty cool. I grabbed my camera out of the car and started shooting immediately.

Red Crossbills

Red Crossbill

Red Crossbill

They were such a swarm and so hard to see as it was cloudy and the dozen or so birds moved in and out of Spruce boughs at the top of the tree.  I started scanning the birds with binoculars while hollering to Dad and Evan who were inside the house to come see these birds.  Finally, I found a bird I would focus my camera on, a nice brick-red male.  It was the only one in the flock I observed.Red Crossbill Check out this sequence. Looks tasty…Red CrosbillA little snip and…Red CrosbillVoilà!

Red CrosbillDad and Evan did get out to see the birds. Evan saw the flock and said, “Yep, I see them,” and then went back into the house.  As usual, I wanted good looks and good photographs.  I was planning to keep working until I got some I was happy with, but poof! The nomads took off for their next stop on their life’s journey never to be seen by us again.   Red CrosbillWhat a thrill it was to get this life bird. Each new life bird now is especially fun because they are such good birds at this point proven by the fact that we still haven’t seen some of them after several years of birding.  Red Crossbills in particular are tough birds to get in Minnesota  even though they are year-round residents here. Not only was it a treat to finally see a Red Crossbill, but a three-generation lifer in the YARD is completely unheard of at this stage in the game.  I still can’t believe the serendipity of this encounter. Absolutely awesome, absolutely hands-down the best bird of this trip North. A Red Crossbill lifer and a Black-backed Woodpecker lifer seen within the same week at this time of year–unbelievable.  I thought I was going to have to wait for next winter to take another crack at those two.

The lifer train hasn’t stopped either. Two days later we’d be seeing a bird that is scarce even in its tiny, normal ranges in Arizona and Texas. What a week!

The County’s Tern for a Lifer

As I’ve mentioned in the previous post or two, it has not been my intention to push hard with the birding after the big trip West.  I’ve been meaning to slow down to be able to take care of responsibilities and enjoy other aspects of life.  Case in point was two weekends ago when Melissa and I decided to take the kids fishing.  I even left my camera at home so I wouldn’t be distracted with the birds.  Maybe, though, this was actually a selfish move because not having my camera pretty much guaranteed something would go down.  And that something wasn’t the bobber.  Fishing was lousy.  I could have just as well been birding or fishing–I had left my own pole at home thinking I’d be swamped with baiting three hooks, taking fish off three lines, etc (Grow up and help me out, Evan!!).

After trying Elkhorn Lake, we ventured up to the outflow at the northeast corner of Green Lake where people were fishing from shore.  While we were once again waiting for bobbers to go down, I had noticed some large, white birds flying in the distance.  Those are odd-looking Gulls, I thought.  They seemed really big, but their heads and bills were too small to be Pelicans. Hmmph, no long-range optics. Oh well.

Later on we were driving by the area where these “Gulls” had been, and I noticed some larger white birds resting in the backwaters off the Green Lake outflow.  Now I didn’t have my camera with the zoom capabilities, but I did have a pair of binoculars in the car–I always have pairs of them floating around both vehicles. I pulled the car over and took a look. I had to chuckle when I realized I was seeing a life bird when I never even intended to go birding.  Life birds are hard to come by these days in the state, let alone the county.  Getting a new one at home is a now a very rare treat.  Moreover, the bird I was looking at was one I’ve been waiting to see for quite some time.  It is one that is so exotic in name and looks that I was amazed when I first learned it could be seen in Minnesota–the Caspian Tern.  There were four of these large beauties (bigger than Mallards).  And I didn’t have my camera…

I asked Evan if he wanted to look through the binoculars to get a better look at the Caspians to which he responded, “What, are they those white things over there?  No, I’m good.”  Evan has always been fine with just a check mark for his life list.  Not me.  After I brought the family home, I made the 20 min. trip back so I could document this lifer.

Caspian Terns

The Caspian Terns are so cool that when they’re in town, everyone has to get their photo taken with them.

Caspian Terns American White Pelican

Even the COLO is not too coolo to become a bit of a xenophile around these visiting birds, posing for pictures with them and checking out the competition for best-looking water bird.

Caspian Tern

Keep on swimming, Chuck. You’re just a ‘common’, domestically-named bird; I, on the other hand, am exquisite.

Caspian Tern Common Loon

Wait, did you see it? I know my birder friends saw it.  I didn’t see it until I looked at my pictures.  Just to the right of the Caspian Tern’s head there is a second Common Loon sitting on a nest in the reeds!  How cool is that?! The northern half of Kandiyohi County is right at the southern edge of where our beloved state bird nests.  This was a sweet find on top of an already sweet find.

Caspian Tern

Shifting angles a bit shows just how easily that Common Loon’s nest can hide.

Caspian Tern

I also got to watch the Caspians take flight.  It was a good learning experience to see what they looked like in the air and hear their guttural calls.

Caspian Tern

Can you see why I thought they were Gulls from a distance?

Caspian Tern

Every birder knows the law of lifers–once you finally get it, you never have trouble seeing it again.  Terns out that I’d be putting this study of Caspians in flight to use several days later on the next adventure when I spied two flying over while I was filling up the car at a gas station.

Caspian Tern

This was a most satisfying lifer.  It was a much-wanted bird on our soil…er, water.  Believe it or not, but there’s been a lot more lifering since the Caspian Tern, even another one here at home. With some hot night-birding, a giant shorebird grab, a Colorado trip, AND Scarlet Tanagers TEN minutes from home, the stories are stacking up and quickly becoming more prolific than Stephen King novels. Much, much, much more reading ahead–so much for a quiet period in my birding and blogging.  Oh well, I’ll try to make the most of it.

Arizona 2015: Evan’s Big Discovery at Green Valley

The birding on March 31st was like drinking water from a fire hose.  Not to belabor a point, but I was also super sick and just wanted to rest after lifering 23 times earlier in the day with Tommy DeBardeleben and Gordon Karre.  As I was resting in the hotel room, Evan jolted me back into birding mode when he hollered, “Dad, I see a Barn Owl!”  I was skeptical but his voice was rising, “Yeah, yeah, I do!”  I went over to the window he was looking through and saw the distant silhouette on another roof of the hotel complex a couple hundred yards away.  Zooming in with the camera I saw that Evan indeed saw an owl, but it was the Great Horned variety.

Great Horned Owl

Any owl is a fun find, even a GHOW in SE AZ.  No, it wasn’t our Barn Owl lifer, but it was still a great sighting.  At least Evan was cognizant that we were in the right country for Barn Owl as it’s not a bird we are likely to ever get back home. We saw the owl fly a short distance into a third-story alcove, so Evan and I raced out the door to see if we could get closer looks at the owl.  We realized that we could actually ride an elevator to the third floor and look out a window right by where the owl landed.  Excitement stirred as we crept up to the window, expecting to look down at the owl just a couple feet away on the roof below.  Somehow the owl gave us the slip, but look what we found!  The figure in the background is a very fresh owlet–you can see its tiny gray beak by the stucco wall.  The other white blob may be an owlet or part of the food cache.

GHOW nest

We finally located the adult perched on a light pole in the middle of the parking lot in the middle of the day, giving us our best ever views of a Great Horned Owl.

Great Horned OwlWhenever owls are involved, one should always give credit where credit is due.  Here is the discoverer admiring his prize.

Evan Great Horned Owl

What a gorgeous creature this was and a cherry on top of one heck of a day of birding in SE AZ.

Great Horned Owl

It surprised me to see a Great Horned Owl in the day like this and so unafraid.  Putting up with tourists is just one of the prices you pay for choosing such a posh and scenic home.

Great Horned Owl hotel

Having a resident owl at our accommodations always made going out to the parking lot enjoyable as you could play ‘Where’s Waldo?’ each time.  One time we found it in a palm tree.  Look at those talons!

Great Horned Owl

It was really windy that night. Can you tell?

Great Horned OwlThe Great Horned Owl wasn’t the only great bird at the hotel.  I managed to find a Black-throated Sparrow, Cactus Wren, and even a lifer Hooded Oriole or three for Evan!

Hooded Oriole

Hooded Oriole female

The Hooded Orioles were that much sweeter as we enjoyed them poolside while enjoying  other sweet views.

Green Valley

After our grand Elegant Trogon adventure on the morning of April 1st, Tommy and Gordon dropped us off at the hotel but took some time to look for Evan’s owls.  Unfortunately, Tommy and Gordon just could not get on the owl.

Tommy Gordon Great Horned Owl

They had been so obsessed with the fact that my bird photo-list on the blog is missing a Rock Pigeon picture, that they could focus on nothing but finding me Pigeons and failed to see the owl.  I was told that in this photo, Tommy had sighted a tidy group of four Pigeons.

The truth is, Tommy and Gordon just weren’t used to owling VIP-style. We brought them to the elevator that took us up three flights.  Then the doors opened, giving them this immediate and direct view:

Great Horned Owl

 

Great Horned OwlTommy and Gordon actually contributed to the owl discovery as they found the male tucked up into a palm tree!  We now had two adults in view!

Great Horned Owl

It was fun to watch these Arizona birders, who by all rights should be jaded to all common birds, enjoy this pair of nationally common GHOWs along with us.  Perhaps, after now having seen such birds as the Painted Redstart and Elegant Trogon, Evan is the one who’s jaded…

Josh Evan Great Horned Owl

The only cure for such a hardened-heart toward the owls would be an infusion of multiple owl lifers on one of the most thrilling owl-prowls we’ve ever had.  Coming up next is some exciting NIGHT owling we had that very night back in the Phoenix area along the Salt River.  Stay tuned.

The 2015 Arizona series has eight chapters: 1) Maricopa Birds, 2) Mt. Lemmon, 3) Florida Canyon, 4) Madera Canyon Part 1, 5) Madera Canyon Part 2, 6) Evan’s Big Discovery, 7) Owling at Coon Bluff on the Salt River, and 8) Evan’s Nemesis.