The Hazards of iPods

Published on July 16, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , .

Stop! Is that a Pygmy Owl? No, it is someone playing their iPod AGAIN! iPods, iPhones, mp3 players of all kinds can be a wonderful tool for birders and they can also be a terrible hazard for birds and birders alike.

Any device that plays bird songs and calls is a tremendous tool for birders, if they are used appropriately. They can and should be used to learn the vast array of bird songs, calls and flight notes that are essential for bird identification. Their lightweight portability allows them to be used in the car, at home, at work (ok, maybe the boss would frown on this application) and while walking to do errands. But their use in the field must be considered carefully.

The majority of birds use songs to denote their territory and attract mates. The use of a playback recording device during the spring disrupts the male from his territory creating a situation where he is expending much-needed energy to respond to an unseen intruder with boundless power that he cannot compete against. Calling a bird out using an electronic device also exposes him to predation unnecessarily. In a word, it is extremely unethical to disturb a bird on its breeding grounds for the selfish pleasure of getting a better look, capturing a photograph, or for the power one feels by controlling birds’ actions.

Since the advent of such lightweight, easy-to-use devices such as iPods, we have all been tempted at one point in time to use them to elicit a response from a bird. I learned my lessons early on. As a long time birder and a new iPod owner, I was excited and intrigued to try it in the field. I knew better, but common sense was a very slow second to greed as I was leading a small birding trip in a heavily forested tract of land. Nearby the trail a Winter Wren was singing his beautiful long clear song. No one with me had ever seen a Winter Wren or could see this particular bird hidden in the deep undergrowth. Despite the fact that it was spring at the height of nesting season, I pulled out my iPod and played the Winter Wren’s song. For about 3 seconds, before the wren pummeled straight out of the underbrush right at my head. He was oblivious to any danger, predation, or people. Suddenly, he was only intent on attacking and driving away the “intruder” in his territory. Shock and the realization of my actions translated into a quick shut down of the recording and an apology and explanation to my group. Not sure I could fathom a way to apologize to the Winter Wren who’s upset chattering followed us down the trail.

Since then I have used recordings with great care to aid myself, the groups I am leading, and to minimize any adverse impact on birds. Often their best use in the field is to play them quietly for myself or a group gathered around so we know exactly what song to listen for. A quiet reminder of the tremendous music around us is a fantastic teaching tool. Blasting a Pygmy Owl recording at full volume, however, frightens birds away, blinds the ear to the surrounding music, and detracts from a natural experience. The choice is ours.

We should all honor, protect, and respect the many birds that have provided us with hours, weeks, and years of birdwatching pleasure. Limiting the use of recordings for teaching and learning will ensure allow this mutually beneficial relationship to continue. And by following the American Birding Association’s Birding Code of Ethics we can continue to do just that for many years to come.

Read the ABA’s complete Birding Code of Ethics here.

A Moment in Nature

Published on July 2, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , .

A great cacophony of sound filled the forest. Robins and crows were going mad with alarm and cries of distress. Following the chorus of sound along the North Loop Trail of Discovery Park, I watched in amazement as a Barred Owl flew into a maple, feet from the trail, with a robin grasped in its talons. Convinced that the owl would only be hunting during the day to feed its young I remained stationary, waiting and watching. Surely it would take the prey to its nest. I watched in amazement as it slowly plucked and fed upon this huge meal. Bit by bit it disappeared, till the last foot slid out of sight. Apparently today the meal was meant for the adult only. But still I waited until the owl cleaned its beak against a branch rousted its feathers and settled in for a mid-morning nap.

Meanwhile my attention was being pulled toward tiny begging sounds issuing from the forest on the south side of the trail. Who is so hungry? Following the cries, looking for movement I discovered a nest filled with Hairy Woodpecker young. The adults were working frantically, carrying insects back to the cavity in a snag to stuff the greedy young with essential protein.

All in all a fantastic moment of “wild” in Discovery Park – but the most remarkable thing about the whole experience was watching wave after wave of park visitors streaming by without any inkling of the life and death drama that surrounded them. Families taking a stroll, a hiking group socializing, joggers exercising, and dog walkers enjoying their canine company. All oblivious to the begging of young woodpeckers, waves of Wilson’s Warblers filling the canopy, the Barred Owl’s brunch, the fringecup blooming trailside and the wonder of the natural world surrounding them. It is much like choosing a fine dining establishment to enjoy the ambiance, drink in the fine aroma then not partaking of the excellent cuisine.

Birders as a general rule are very aware people, alert to the sounds and sights around them. Birdwatching lends itself to a heightened sense of awareness. Without this connection to the natural world, we would miss the next life bird, an interesting behavior or the simple beauty of a Western Tanager returning from its winter hiatus. As city dwellers and creatures of a modern lifestyle, our senses have become dulled in order to survive the continual onslaught of sights, sounds and smells of our harried lives. In order to get back in touch with our senses and truly experience the natural world a focused moment will help.

Choose a quiet place in a neighborhood park. Sit and relax on a bench and take a moment just to look. How many different birds will you see and hear? Suddenly realize how many shades of greens are in a forest habitat. Lean down squeeze a Bleeding Heart leaf, then smell the light scent of powdered donuts. Run your hand gently over the bark of a cedar, then contrast its texture with the gnarled rough thick bark of the Douglas fir. Expand your quest to reestablish a natural relationship by choosing a different habitat. The beach at low tide is filled with ample opportunities. Crouch quietly next to a tide pool and as if by magic a new world will appear. The tiny legs of the barnacles are kicking away bringing food into the protective shell. Tidepool sculpins completely camouflaged when still, will begin to swim and reveal their locations. Shells will suddenly become hermit crabs skittering among the rocks. Gently touch an anemone and marvel at their soft fragility. Pet a sea star and discover their rough outer layer.

By awakening your senses through focused effort you will soon discover an open door through which many discoveries will come to you naturally. Then and only then will you be as fortunate as a recent group of birding by ear class participants – together we were alerted to the presence of an Anna’s Hummingbird by her quiet ticking sounds and rapid movements.

Pausing our walk, we watched as she gathered a spider web. A moment later she took the silk back to her tiny camouflaged nest barely five feet over the trail. This natural magic and more awaits you once the senses have been awakened.

Breeding Bird Survey

Published on June 7, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , .

These are three of the most intense moments of your birding life. Three minutes to count all of species and individual birds in a 1/4 mile radius. This is the United States Geological Survey’s Breeding Bird Survey. Look, listen, scan, identify, count, and repeat 50 times at designated stops.

Scott and I had chosen to be volunteers for the Breeding Bird Survey four years ago. We selected the Nighthawk route in Okanogan County of north eastern Washington State. This area is rich in wetlands, riparian zone, sagebrush, Ponderosa Pine forests, lakes and rivers. Unbeknown to us at the time, it is the highest diversity of breeding birds in Washington. But after intensely surveying these many habitats for hours on end I can attest that it is indeed extremely diverse.

After four years, the route and routine are somewhat more manageable. Our roles are clearly defined. After arising at 3:30 a.m., we arrive at our first stop at 4:25a.m ready to go, coffee in one hand, binoculars in the other. Scott mans the computer assuring that each stop is accurate and on target according to our GPS. He dutifully records any ambient noise we may experience such as rushing stream, tractor or cattle drive. He also records and interprets the crazy chatter flying from my mouth as I attempt to call out each species as I see and hear them during the precious three minute time span.

I assume an intense stance, eyes and ears attune to all bird life surrounding us. I must appear somewhat insane staring fixedly ahead as I first holler out all of the songs and calls I hear. Black-headed Grosbeak! Western Tanager! Gray Catbird! Then the binoculars are attached to my eyes as I scan, high, low near far and don’t forget the other side of the road! Pick out the Lazuli Bunting, squeeze out three Wilson’s Warblers, and five Yellow Warblers in the riparian zone – then, oh joy, a MacGillivray’s warbler! Ok, i.d. the Flycatchers- NOW!

Despite its great intensity and exhausting eight hours of work, the route is a true joy. Not only the delight of revisiting old friends each year but the possibility of discovering new species as well. Stop 24 – guaranteed Rufous Hummingbird and he will be sitting on the wire above the road. Stop 12 – Say’s Phoebe sallying forth in search of insects for her young. Stop 5 at the corral, sure enough there is the House Wren in full song. Stop 42 – Lewis’s Woodpeckers are guarding territory in old cottonwoods next to the river. Stop 29 – yes the Bank Swallow colony is still there. We can be assured count that every transformer on the poles lining the highway will be populated by a pair of Western Kingbirds.

Sprinkled amongst the old friends such as Western Wood-Peewee and Western Meadowlarks are treasures of new discoveries. While dodging hummingbirds and peering at a Red-tailed Hawk, a distinct chibit repeatedly struck my ear. And there in the Ponderosa Pine singing away was a Least Flycatcher, our first in four years of surveys. Later on while counting the large groups of Bald Eagles feasting on carp at the lake shore, a group of shore birds flew past my bins. White, chestnut and black – could it be? YES! Wilson’s Phalaropes landing along the edge of a flooded field. Stop number 48 in the heat of the day promised to be barren except for the usual Black-billed Magpies and California Quail but today a lovely chuck, chuck, chuck call issued from the sage. Finally – Chukar on our route. While looking for “our” Clark’s Nutcrackers who had repeatedly surprised us by hanging out at the lake in most untypical Clark’s habitat we were delighted to discover instead two nesting Common Mergansers. This seemed a much more appropriate species for this stop.

After hours of wrestling with an accurate count of swallows, the intensity of birding by ear and elation of new discoveries we ended this year’s Breeding Bird Survey with a total of 50 stops, 25 miles driven, six distinct habitats and 77 species and the anticipation of next year’s survey on our minds.

Ramblin’ Rose’s First Adventure

Published on May 20, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , .

Yes! I’ve done it! Oh no what have I done!? Sitting on the side of I-90 stranded with a broken transmission, I realized my decision to launch a new birding business is not looking very good – in fact it is feeling pretty dismal.

For years I have shared my passion for birds and birding by teaching classes and leading tours as a naturalist at Discovery Park. Recently the City of Seattle Park’s Department reorganized the education staff into teams. The team I was assigned focuses on school students from kindergarten to grade 12. No longer will I be providing classes and tours to adults and members of the general public. Many wonderful Discovery Park constituents and members of the public with whom I had shared countless birding experiences had pushed, urged, literally kicked me into starting my own bird touring business. Thus Ramblin’ Rose Birding Adventures was born.

The emotional swings of creating a small business have been wild. But I had successfully filled the first adventure with clients, and now Scott and I were supposed to be winging our way to Eastern Washington for a fam trip. An opportunity to check routes, locate birds, ensure that my first adventure would go smoothly.

But the brand new transmission in my Nissan Pathfinder had other ideas. While winding up I-90 toward Snoqualimie Pass, a shudder and a plume of white smoke suggested an early end to our outing.

Frustrated, angry and impatient while waiting for a long-delayed tow truck, I paced the side of the highway. Scott calmly attempted to console me. But I was having none of it – until… Why, yes! That was a Red-winged Crossbill flying across six lanes of traffic. The unmistakable sound of its turn signal call note drifted down over the din of traffic. Readjusting my attitude and focus, I began fighting through the chaotic noise and rush of traffic to pick up any sounds and sights of life on this freeway.

High above, floating against the green backdrop of the Cascade Mountains was a lonely Raven. Its glossy black wings shimmering in the spring sun. Can it be? – yes, it is the distinct Ziiiiiiiiip of Pine Siskens flocking and feeding amongst the Red Alders. And there just beyond the shoulder near the edge of the evergreen forest were a pair of Robins feeding. They seemed unconcerned and oblivious to the rush of civilization pouring past their habitat.

Scott and I celebrated the joy of discovering life – bird life – in the midst of noise, chaos and car trouble. Perhaps we wouldn’t make the family trip today, but the birds would be there awaiting the arrival of the first Ramblin’ Rose Birding Adventure.

Birding Memories

Published on May 4, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , .

I have been birding A LOT lately – every free day has been filled with trips to remarkable and amazing places filled with spectacular species. But with so much birding activity the memories has become soft like the fading of an old favorite photograph. Looking back through an opaque glass of my memories certain moments stand out clearly as if they were still happening today. The magic of discovering a sleeping Merlin in Othello, the joy of witnessing Wilson Snipes in a competing aerial display, and the agony of watching a Killdeer lure us away from her nest with the broken wing display. These birding jewels punctuate the mind but unexpected moments stand out clearly.

Dawn at Lower Crab Creek the air is filled with the calls of multiples skeins of geese and flocks of Sandhill Cranes flying into a nearby field. The soft light of the morning catches a spring wonder, a slice into a spectacular centuries old tradition – the cranes are dancing! These enormous birds leap into the air, flapping their wings, and waggling their bustles, sealing the bonds that will keep them together through the nesting season.

Driving through the sun drenched Yakima Canyon on the way to Fort Simcoe a client calls from the back seat Big! White! Tall! Big and White! – stammering her way through a description that fails her. I quickly pull off the road only to discover a group of American White Pelicans standing in the low water of the Yakima River. They are stunning in purest white with brilliant orange and yellow on their faces – full breeding plumage. These enormous birds contrast sharply with the rugged basalt canyon walls – seemingly out of place yet comfortable in their stark beauty. I am momentarily distracted from the spectacle by a memory of a Golden Eagle nest. Using the spotting scope I scan the cliff faces to see if the eagles are still in residence and am startled and overjoyed to see several small family groups of Big Horn Sheep. We all delight in the antics of the tiny newborn sheep. Death defying wobbles on the sheer cliffs keep us holding our breaths.

Scanning a flooded field north of Toppenish National Wildlife Refuge with our spotting scope we are surprised to see a Greater Yellowlegs lying down on the edge of a small island. Such a tall shore bird in deep repose with its distinctive legs tucked underneath its body is somewhat unusual. But not for long, an oblivious drake Mallard wanders in the Yellowleg’s direction and practically steps on the resting bird. Both look extremely startled when the collision occurs. The Yellowlegs too, too, toos away, while the Mallard continues to waddle on its own merry way.

Gathered together with a group of neighbors and friends we birded the Ballard Locks on an early Sunday morning. The birds were much to be expected with gleaming Barrow’s Goldeneye, and Double-crested Cormorants sporting crests and emerald green eyes glowing in the orange/yellow faces, but once we arrived at the Great Blue Heron rookery things took a turn for the exciting. While admiring the stately plumed grace of a heron adding a limb to its nest someone cried Wren! Nesting! Sure enough a pair of Bewick’s Wrens were constructing a nest less than ten feet away from the trail. And what a nest, it was! Two feet deep, less than three feet above the ground with a vast amount of nesting material packed behind the loose bark of an alder tree.

At first glance it had the appearance of a Brown Creeper Nest on steroids. The male and female worked diligently and failed to take note of the large group of birders admiring their work, nor the raccoon who ambled past. Now we were torn between heron and wren watching till another cry went up in the group. Turning we were amazed to see a pair of Black-capped Chickadees excavating a nest hole less that a foot away from the trail. But it wasn’t just the closeness that was so remarkable but the tree they had chosen. This snag was less that four inches around – I could have easily encircled it with both hands overlapping. Surely they weren’t going to nest there!? But excavate they did, with all the seriousness this ludicrous site could afford them.

All together each and every bird trip was an engaging wonderful experience but the unexpected will stand out in memories for years to come.

Birding by Ear

Published on April 26, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , .

Why learn to bird by ear? Birding by ear is essential to all birders, opening an entirely new dimension of understanding and awareness. Learning to recognize birds by their calls and songs allows you to know birds just as you would a friend’s voice across a crowded room or a mother discerning her child’s cry of “MOM” amongst a chorus of “MOMs” on a playground. Birding by ear also opens up a whole new world of recognizing behaviors, keying in on sounds above the head, identifying lurking and hidden birds in the thick of spring growth and separating difficult species from one another.

The high chittering falling down from above reminds you to look up. The sun’s glare is barring any view of field marks. But immediately you recognize the sound of Violet-green Swallows. Spend enough time looking and sure enough they are no longer back lit and their white rump patches become obvious – confirmed!

The excited caw! caw! caw! of a murder of crows – what and why are they so upset? Focus in with your binoculars and a perfectly camouflaged Great Horned Owl pressed against the trunk of a tree comes into view. We would have walked right by without noticing this stunning predator but the crows raucous voices remind us to look.

Many birders are intimidated by learning the many different songs and calls that fill the bird world. But you needn’t be. The language of the bird world can be mastered and translated. There are a vast array of tools to help. CDs, tapes, and iPods will allow you to listen and learn at your leisure. During a long commute, while cleaning house, any time that is convenient for listening to these tools can help. Taking a class from an experienced guide will aide in the mastery of birding by ear.

Developing your own tips, tricks and tools is essential. Personalize your learning. The bubbling song of a Ruby-crowned Kinglet is now the “teeter-totter” bird. The whiney chatter of the Pine Siskens are forever known as Pine Ziiiiipkens! An orange rolling off a table? Orange-crowned Warblers descending trill of course. By placing your own description to the music around us it becomes your own.

Some field guides have excellent descriptions of bird sounds but nothing compares to the original Peterson Guides. Roger Tory Peterson had an incredible knack for translating the language of birds into English. He neatly separates the impossible Flycatchers with simple catch phrases that everyone can learn. Willow Flycatcher says Fitzbew! and the Olive-sided Flycatcher – Quick Three Beers! How fun and easy!

But by far the best way to learn birding by ear is to get outside and go birding. Pick up your binoculars and scope, spend time looking at a bird while it sings. Focus on the gray and orange red bird – does it say Cheeriup Cherrioh as a American Robin – or a monosyllable, discordant whistle of the Varied Thrush. Scan the trees, is it really a robin’s cheery song or a Black-headed Grosbeak or Western Tanager? Auditory cues such as a slurry wolf whistle of the grosbeak or a chibit of the tanager will narrow the identification – the visual contact will confirm the id.

Soon your everyday life will become richer. Now as you are walking across the parking lot to the mall in anticipation of the big spring sale you may be stopped in your tracks by the sweet conceit of the White-crowned Sparrow – “See Me Pretty, Pretty Me!” When you hear someone insisting “Drink your TEA!” an Eastern Towhee is nearby or if you are in a neighborhood on the West Coast, it will be the Bewick’s Wren demanding that you “Drink your TEA”!

Just that quickly your world will become a three dimensional experience with the previously unseen, unnoticed, unidentified popping into auditory view. Time, practice and being outside birding will open an entirely new world.

Favorite Bird

Published on March 31, 2010 in Binocular Uses and Uncategorized. Closed Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , .

What was your favorite bird today? My friends Jim Flyn, Marissa Benaventa, partner Scott Hoskin and I were relaxing at dinner after a long fruitful day of birding in Eastern Washington. How does one decide after many hours, miles and 72 species on a particular bird that was more outstanding than any other? After a moments reflection Jim pipes up – the Great Horned Owl – definitely.

Jim’s highlight species was a female owl secreted in the crevices of a basaltic cliff along the Old Vantage Highway. Nocturnal birds are so difficult and rare to view. Her camouflaged beauty had been hard to detect in craggy cliffs, but once we located her nestled amongst the rocks it was difficult to tear away from her piercing yellow eyes.

Marissa barely hesitated – the Red-headed Duck for sure. Beauty again was a deciding factor for Marissa. We had stopped along the highway outside of Othello at the County Line ponds to scan for birds. Despite the fact that there were elegant Tundra Swans, Sandhill Cranes feeding, and multitudes of waterfowl, the singular Red-head had captured all of our attentions. It floated alone in the early evening light with a perfect reflection on the still waters, its burgundy head appearing to glow from within.

Scott? The Rock Wrens – absolutely the Rock Wrens. The stop at the Ginkgo State Park Overlook had truly been productive. We had driven to the base of the overlook on the shores of the Columbia River with towering cliffs on either side. Moments after stepping out of the car the lyrical song of the Rock Wren had floated down from the surrounding rocks. We had all thrilled with the song and lamented the fact that one rarely gets to see this lovely bird up close. The males will perch and sing on a high inaccessible rock far from our prying binoculars but well within auditory range. Frustrated with the tiny view, even with a spotting scope, we had meandered along a trail bordering the river, enjoying the activity of a Townsend’s Solitaire feeding on rose hips. On the way back to the car, much to our delight, the Rock Wren had descended from the cliffs. We focused on the wren a mere 200 yards away singing his heart out for a nearby feeding female. Gasps rippled through the group as the wren left his perch and flew straight at us! Binoculars FILLED with Rock Wren – no longer inaccessible but gorgeous in full detail.

And for me a favorite bird? Sigh…..I just can’t decide…..my favorites were moments and memories punctuated throughout the day rather than singular birds. The first outstanding memory was early morning along the banks of the Cle Elum River with a tri-fecta of Nuthatches. White-breasted Nuthatch was the first discovery, with a nasal too-too it was moving around a Ponderosa Pine. A delight by itself but soon we could hear the distinct yanking of the Red-breasted Nuthatch working over a Douglas fir. But the icing on the cake was the piping kit-kit of a pair of Pygmy’s arguing over a snag. The final Nuthatch sighting was greeted by the four of us doing the sprinkler dance in the middle of the road – a touchdown indeed.

But this choice was pushed aside when I recalled the sage land discovery of mid-afternoon. We were soaking in the beauty of early spring amongst the sage – admiring the burst of yellow from the Sage Buttercup and brilliant purple of the Sage Pansy when our attention was grabbed by a lovely melody floating amongst the color and light. Sage Sparrow! He would make brief appearances atop a low shrub and burst forth with song then quickly disappear among the grasses and early spring blooms. Nothing compares to the sound and brilliant visuals of spring in the sage, except…

Yes, we all agreed the end of the day had truly been spectacular. Early evening as the light was fading we positioned ourselves under the roosting flyway of thousands of waterfowl and Sandhill Cranes. The darkening skies were filled with skeins of geese, ducks and cranes, their sounds filling the air around us. Quietly we drank in the marvel of migration and the wonder of spring. Delighting in the joy that all birds we had experienced together were special and the day would always reign as a favorite memory in our friendship.

Ballard Locks- When Winter Meets Spring

Published on March 19, 2010 in Uncategorized. Closed Tags: , , , , , , , , , .

When winter meets spring – what a marvelous time of year in the Pacific Northwest and what better place to experience this junction than the Ballard Locks in Seattle? Here saltwater meets freshwater and forest meets the garden, joining multiple habitats where residents and migrants mingle in this dawn of the year. I have chosen this unique time and place to lead a Seattle Audubon Bird Tour to share the magic of the melding of seasons and habitats.

Arriving early, I am greeted with the long melodious vibrato of the resident Winter Wren clearing the air with its 300-note song. This tiny songster is joined by the migrant Varied Thrush, whose discordant monosyllabic song rings through the garden. As the Audubon group arrives, a male Anna’s Hummingbird shows off his squeaky metallic song from the top of a Wax Myrtle, attempting to impress the females who are nesting nearby.

A quick “Whit!” draws our attention to a winter resident, the Yellow-rumped Warbler, who is getting her fill of insects taking flight in the warm morning air. The warbler is powering up for the long migration back north.

Tearing ourselves away from all of this activity we continue to explore the rest of the Carl S. English Gardens. The gardens provide a lovely place of refuge for locals and
tourists alike, all of whom can enjoy the spectacular landscape all year round. Our attention is drawn away from the Starry Magnolia in full bloom to an ancient Blue Atlas Cedar. It is not the tremendous height of this tree that is alluring, but the decoration of dozens of Great Blue Herons posed in a stately manner throughout its branches. As we gaze through our binoculars and spotting scopes, the stillness of the scene is awe inspiring.

Closer examination shows all the herons are sporting lovely white breeding plumes on their necks and chest. They are gathering for their pre-nesting social. Their rookery is located in the forest just south of the Locks, and they gather here in the garden prior to starting the long, arduous nesting season.

The rattling call of a Belted Kingfisher pulls us toward the water. A chase is on between the resident male and any other kingfisher who dares enter his territory. The kingfisher’s feeding area at the locks is rich with young salmon, who are leaving the relative safety of freshwater and entering the first stages of their lives in saltwater.

Belted Kingfisher. Photo by Greg Thompson.

Other fish-feeding birds are in evidence with Doublecrested Cormorants perched high on light posts, spreading their wings to dry in the morning sun. A closer examination in my spotting scope shows some of the cormorants beginning to grow their double crests in anticipation of nesting season. Soon they will depart the locks and return to offshore islands to raise their young.

Scanning the water reveals a multitude of migrant waterfowl in full breeding plumage, feeding for the last few days before spring departure. Greater and Lesser Scaup, Bufflehead, Common Mergansers, Barrow’s and Common Goldeneye. Soon we’ll only be left with Gadwall and Mallards, tough urban species who will nest in marginal blackberry brambles.

Soon we notice the herons have left the “dance floor” of the Blue Atlas Cedar and are now gathering in the young alders lining the south side of the saltwater arena. A great deal of slow-motion posturing begins to take place. Thin branches from the alders are stalked and removed by the strong, fish-killing beaks. Rather than fly back to the rookery with the sticks (as they will in a week or so) instead they pose, manipulate, and generally show off their stick-gathering prowess.

While we are watching this ancient dance the herons are joined by a mixed feeding flock of Black-capped and Chestnutbacked Chickadees, Bushtits, and Pine Siskens- a reminder that it’s still winter for many small birds who have yet to break into pairs.

We end our rich morning in the Kiwanis Ravine, a forested area just above the Locks, to admire the Great Blue Heron rookery. Large stick nests laden the alders and maples in the ravine, quietly waiting for the spring frenzy that is soon to come.

On the Hunt with Falcon Research Group

Published on March 8, 2010 in Uncategorized. Closed Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , .

Whoosh, she got it!  Suddenly the quiet gray morning was filled with delighted and dangerous sounds as the young Peregrine cut through the tightly bunched, swerving, twisting flock of Dunlins.  This indeed was our reward for rising at 4:00am for a pre-dawn trip to the Samish Flats.

Adult Female Peregrine, Dunlin in the background.
Photo by Greg Thompson

Scott and I had joined the Falcon Research Group’s Hawk Watching class field trip at the request of our longtime friend Bud Anderson, founder and lead raptor genius behind FRG.  Along with several classmates we had met at the Padilla Bay Visitor Center where we were greeted enthusiastically by Bud.  He could barely contain his excitement as he explained what we would be doing for the morning portion of the trip on the Samish Flats.  A pair of Peregrines had set up a territory over a large flock of Dunlins who consistently fed in a muddy field next to a very accessible road.  This would afford us ample opportunity to watch falcons and their prey in action.  We quickly saddled up and drove down the road in excited anticipation.

Arriving at the Dunlin-filled field, we noticed quickly that the small shorebirds had attracted not only a pair of Peregrines but noted photographers and plenty of ornithologists.  After all, if you want to find birders, just go to where the birds are.  Greg Thompson, an up-and-coming photographer was in position; we were joined by Martin Stewart, renowned bird sound recorder; Paul Bannick, noted photographer and author of Owls and Woodpeckers was in place with two cameras with enormous lenses.

For the next hour we milled about, sharing stories, comparing lens, admiring different spotting scopes, and catching up with old friends, all the while keeping an eye on the Dunlin and their attendant raptors.  Scanning the flat flooded fields, we could see several Bald Eagles perched on pilings near the dike.  Another closer look revealed a Prairie Falcon on a fence post on the outer edge of the field.  Just to the south, Scott picked up an immature Peregrine biding her time.  The adult female Peregrine was poised on the crossbar of a power pole just north of our position.  Further yet but still within view (and reach) of the Dunlins was an adult male Peregrine quietly waiting.  In the middle of this predator wall were approximately 5,000 Dunlin.

The Dunlin were feeding quietly, their peeps, twitters, and soft short whistles reassuring the flock that all was well.  Suddenly they took flight and all binoculars and cameras were shifted to the action.  But it was a short, loose flight in response to a cruising Northern Harrier assessing the flock for any injured or easy prey.  The healthy members of the flock settled back down and continued to feed.  Just as quickly as the Dunlin had leaped into the air to avoid the Harrier, the entire flock fell asleep as though a switch had been flipped- a magical and remarkable feat considering they were surrounded by a circle of death.  And where can one experience the noise and twittering of 5,000 living creatures all falling silent with sleep?

With sleep upon the flock and a long day of the raptor field trip ahead of us, Bud suggested that we load up and move on.  But despite the fact that we had been standing in the damp cold grey morning for over an hour, no one was ready to leave; everyone wanted to see a falcon hunt.

Within moments of deciding to stay, the young Peregrine Scott had scoped out earlier took flight with a determination driven by hunger.  Every spotting scope, cameras, and pair of binoculars was trained on the hurtling dark form of the falcon, but most optics were lowered within seconds as the action got too close.  The Dunlin lifted into the air as one living organism, bunching, swooping, trying desperately to evade.  The falcon cut through the flock with precision.  Once, twice, three times she turned and twisted.  We lost sight of her within the mass of shorebirds when suddenly, two Dunlin dropped out of the flock to the muddy field below.  One more pass and the Peregrine had breakfast dangling from her talons.  No sooner had the young falcon made the kill then the adult female Peregrine was off her perch in hot pursuit.  Driven by hunger and success, the immature bird quickly sped off south over the flats to enjoy her meal in peace.

Smiles and congratulations came from all around as the group of photographers, birders, and friends bonded over an incredible birding moment.  Satiated with the falcon hunt but appetites whetted for more, we loaded up to explore other raptorial treasures hidden within the Samish River flats.

Olympia – Part II

Published on February 23, 2010 in Uncategorized. Closed Tags: , , , , , , , , .

Birders Scott and Penny are back at it in Olympia, Washington. Here’s how their long day of birding in Washington’s capital turned out:

We had enough time after lunch to walk to the capitol building along the shores of Capital Lake, a dammed body of water adjacent to Budd Inlet, resting below the capitol itself.  The lake is a perfectly circular reflecting pool bordered by extensively manicured lawns and a few individual ornamental trees.  But do not underestimate the power of water.  The lake was littered with Ring-billed, California, and Glaucous-winged Gulls; Lesser Scaup; Bufflehead; American Widgeon; Gadwall; and at least two lovely male Wood Ducks.  As we made our way around the lake, I spied a Peregrine flying around the dome of the capitol high on hill above.  Excitedly, I binned the bird, grabbed my compact binoculars and began reporting (loudly) to Scott its every move.

“He’s diving, left, right, up, now to the left THERE’S the FEMALE!  He’s DISPLAYING! They are FLYING TOGETHER!”

I felt a gentle tap on my arm and looked at Scott’s chagrined face.  Oh right, we are in a very public park with hundreds of people walking, jogging, and otherwise not bird watching.  Never mind. My enthusiasm doesn’t dampen easily.  I’m just sorry all these folks are missing this amazing display of wildlife right above their heads.

Finally we arrived at the capitol under the watchful eye of a male Anna’s guarding his territory and were properly shushed and awed by the magnificence of the architecture.  We gazed with respect at the marble columns and gold chandeliers, checked the House and Senate seating arrangement, and drank in the significance of it all.  But not for long – soon the inner child begins to squirm and we are off on a true exploration.

Feeling more like 5th graders escaping from a required field trip than Washington State citizens getting in touch with the seat of government, we explored every stairwell and hallway available to our enquiring feet and eyes.  We soon found ourselves in the bowels of the capitol where lengthy marble hallways led us past congressional offices to a remote outer doorway.  Sneaking out (for no apparent reason since it is open to the public), we discovered the courtyard between the capitol building and the governor’s mansion.  We rewarded ourselves with a wave to the state patrol officer guarding the mansion, then stood about, a bit lost with our “nerve.”

Suddenly, the same back door we had just exited swung open – I was swept with guilt, expecting a teacher to emerge at any moment and discipline us back to the tour.  Better yet, it was Governor Gregoire herself, leaving work on a Saturday afternoon and heading home to the mansion.  We giggled sillily for a few moments while we speculated on whether the governor was aware of the Song Sparrow singing in her garden or the Peregrines nesting on the capitol.  Before we could decide if she truly had time to keep a yard list (after all, she was working on a Saturday), she suddenly reemerged from the mansion with her family and dog Trooper in tow for an early evening walk around Capital Lake.  We took this as our cue to return to Capitol Lake as well.

The fruitful and lovely day was topped off with a complete circuit of the lake with the distant clouds turning pink on the horizon.  We stopped often to enjoy the view and scan the lake for any additional new birds.  Our scanning was rewarded with an adult Bald Eagle careening after a first year Glaucous-winged gull, obviously carrying a prize coveted by the Bald Eagle.  The gull easily out maneuvered the eagle but the chase was exciting nonetheless.  A last memory for our Olympia adventure.  The day was an excellent birthday outing with 44 species, one peregrine nest, and a double sighting of Washington State’s governor.