Tag Archive for 'binoculars'

Always stop to look at Mallards

Published on October 24, 2011 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , .

Always stop to look at Mallards. While leading a recent birding field trip, I stopped at a brackish wetlands area to look at a few ducks. They, of course, were all Mallards in eclipse plumage, just about as dull, mundane and common as you can get in the birding world. I could sense the slight disgust, disappointment, and general malaise of the group of experienced birders as I set up my scope and continued to view the ducks. Why on earth would you even bother?!
Why bother indeed? As a naturalist, I know to look at habitat rather than the individual birds that may be in evidence. This brackish wetlands is bordered by a deciduous riparian zone, a towering forested hill and saltwater to the north. A varied edge habitat like this surely would have much more than the paltry three Mallard puddling around in the pond scum.

Sure enough, after a few moments of disbelief from the group, the Mallards were joined by a small flock of Least Sandpipers daintily picking their way along floating logs, their little yellow legs flashing in the sunlight. Further scanning of the wetland turned up a singular Hooded Merganser. Soon a flock of Cedar Waxwings graced the barren boughs of the alders as they ferociously flew into a nearby serviceberry tree and greedily ripped the ripe berries from the stems. Their elegant plumage was accented by yellow and red. Beneath them in the underbrush, a family of Song Sparrows began to fuss, call, and then warble into a fall song.

A mixed flock of Chestnut-backed and Black-capped Chickadees fluttered, called and generally raised a gentle racket amongst the conifers at the forest edge. A flash of white drew all the binoculars as a Black-throated Gray Warbler made a brief appearance on the edge of the trees.

And what’s that?! Oh yes – a flock of Red-crossbills warned of their presence with a high clip, clip, call as they flew over to the tallest Douglas fir. At least a dozen with varying shades of red, green, and greenish yellow clung upside down on the cones, feasting on seeds ripening this fall season. As we watched the crossbills, a flock of Red-winged Blackbirds hot in the pursuit of migration flew overhead. While our eyes were still trained on the sky, a small group of Vaux’s Swift appeared, heading south as well. Well beyond the swifts, the silhouette of a soaring Bald Eagle appeared over the nearby hill.

Suddenly all activity ceased as a Peregrine Falcon burst on the scene – cutting the sky at tremendous speeds with her sharp wings. Her speed was unsuccessful this time so she settled in on the upper most bare branch of a Grand fir on the nearby hillside. Scopes trained on her to admire the fierce beauty of her dark helmeted head and steely gray body.
The smiling satisfied looks of the group were lesson enough for all – while out birding always stop to look at Mallards.

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.

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 I

Published on February 5, 2010 in Uncategorized. Closed Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , .

Birders Scott and Penny set out for a two-part birding adventure. Check out what they saw in colorful detail…

Bored with the normal weekend pursuit of new yard birds, Scott and I went looking for a novel local area in which to bird.  After all it was Scott’s birthday weekend and we needed something completely different in order to celebrate.  After much head scratching, hemming and hawing, we lit upon an idea.  How about Olympia?  Washington’s state capital lies at the southern end of Puget Sound, ideally placed for winter birding along saltwater shores.  Tragically, neither of us had ever visited our state capital, but now we had a perfect reason to go.

We headed out into the dark gray rainy January morning, our mood reflecting the weather.  By the time we reached Nisqually Wildlife Refuge, a perfect rest stop on the trip, the sun had broken through and the clouds had lifted, taking our spirits upward with them.  It was just a few moments later down I-5 that we easily located Priest Point Park on the northern border of Olympia.  An old park in Western city terms, it was founded in 1905 on land formerly controlled by a missionary, hence the name of Priest Point. The park’s forested hills and slopes border Budd Inlet, a southern arm of Puget Sound.  Ellis Creek flows into Ellis Cove and Budd Inlet.  Many of the parks’ lengthy trails explore the ravines around the creek, cove, and inlet.

As a naturalist with the City of Seattle it was a bit like taking a busman’s holiday.  I cast a sad, disapproving eye on the tremendous amounts of English Ivy quickly engulfing the understory.  Everywhere it seemed trees were snugly wrapped in the death grip of this invasive.  But despite the threat of non-natives, large tracks of very old conifers tower over a relatively healthy understory.  Due to the park’s age and the steepness of the slopes, many very large and old conifers dominated the forest and skyscape.  Grand firs of immense height were circled by Bald Eagles- an unforgettable sight when viewed through binoculars or a spotting scope. The view was complemented by their sharp cries, which rang throughout the forest.  Could they be defending territories?  A good possibility, as the firs were the perfect shape, size and location for Bald Eagle nests.

We meandered for miles, enjoying the sun and joy of bumping into mixed feeding flocks of Golden-crowned and Ruby-crowned Kinglets, Chestnut-backed Chickadees, and yanking Red-breasted Nuthatches.  A quiet tapping alerted us to the presence of a Red-breasted Sapsucker.  Surely he was not alone as countless Western Red-cedar showed the neat lines of sapsucker wells from base to heavenly heights.  Every ancient, uprooted tree had a winter wren scolding and defending the new territory that winter winds had created.  Glimpses of the inlet and beach access were all used as opportunities to scan the water.  By far the most common bird on the water were Buffleheads, the males’ bright white and black heads glowing in the sunshine.  Lesser Scaup abounded and Common Goldeneye were peppered amongst the Buffleheads.

Eventually hunger drove us out of the woods. We took our picnic lunch to Percival Landing. Resting on boardwalk benches over the saltwater, we delighted in the birds of the inlet feasting on their lunch as well.  A Belted Kingfisher perched nearby making a catch of small fry every third try.  Double-crested Cormorants joined the feast in droves.  First, one was diving, then five then ten more traded places under the water.  Most beautiful of all were the Red-breasted Merganser males in spectacular breeding plumage joined by less showy females for a lunch of fish.

Follow Scott and Penny in the next installment of their Olympia birding adventure. If you thought their morning was filled with a variety of species, just wait to see what the afternoon had in store…

Gems of the North

Published on January 15, 2010 in Binocular Uses and Uncategorized. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , .

Bundle up. Bird bloggers Scott and Penny take us on a winter birding adventure, north of the border.


“^(!@&$%(! Hawk Owl!”

I braked sharply, sliding the car to a stop, narrowly avoiding the snow bank.  Following Scott’s shaky directions, I spied the lovely Northern Hawk Owl perched serenely on the top of a stunted pine.  Turning to look in amazement at Scott after his uncharacteristically explicative outburst, I see he is still shaking with excitement, barely able to hold his binoculars.  And rightly so… we had been exploring the Hat Creek drainage in southeastern British Columbia for hours.  Through deep 4-wheel drive snow searching high and low for birds – any birds.  And here, not only do we have a spectacular owl but a life bird for Scott as well.

Birding during the winter in eastern British Columbia gives one a whole new perspective on migration.  Birders often congregate and chase birds during migration, flocking to fallout areas of warblers, sparrows and raptors.  But on the reverse end of migration is the emptiness left behind by departing species.  The frozen north is an area for birds to leave, not to congregate.  But the species that do make their winter home in this frozen landscape are spectacular finds – giving proof to quality over quantity.

During our long winter birding expeditions in British Columbia we have been rewarded with Prairie Falcons perched on the cross bars of power poles along the highway, Short-eared Owls silently sailing over frozen ranch land, Trumpeter Swans floating serenely over the last remaining open water.  Where else could the most commonly-seen bird, Townsend’s Solitaire, be?  Each Solitaire staking out a territory of juniper bushes loaded with bitter, sweet berries; calling back in forth incessantly to each other; proclaiming their rights to this coveted winter food source.  Where, too, are birders rewarded with glimpses of Common Redpoll flocks flitting from pine to pine?  Desperate searching can turn up gold nuggets such as a Pygmy Owl, decorating the top of an evergreen, mimicking the star on top of a perfect Christmas tree.

But now all the swans and Solitaires are forgotten – we have a life owl!  Gently easing out of the car so as not to bump the Hawk Owl, we quietly set up the spotting scope.  Breathlessly we take turns gazing at this remarkable bird; its gold eyes ablaze and piercing within its black bordered white facial disc.  The Northern Hawk Owl, also known as the Canadian Owl, is one of the few diurnal owls in North America.  Their penchant for hunting during the day is a treat for us, allowing an unobstructed look into the otherwise obscured life of owls.  This owl’s style of swooping low and reemerging at the top of fence post, tree or other handy perch during active hunting is very reminiscent of Accipiters.  The pointed wings and long rounded tail add to this impression.  But the distinctly rounded head does not allow this impression to remain long.

We watched the Hawk Owl for precious moments as it hunted its way down the snowy farm lane.  Eventually it was out of sight and we were left with a life bird and a lifelong memory of the rare wonders of the Canadian winter.

What Began as a Birding Adventure …

Published on October 21, 2009 in Binocular Uses and Uncategorized. Closed Tags: , , , , , .

It’s time for the next birding adventure with birding experts Penny Rose and Scott Hoskin:

“Skunk!…………….Swimming!” Scott exclaimed. “What?”

My partner Scott and I had just completed a six hour arduous but gorgeous journey from Seattle to the heart of Okanogan County. I was sure that the stress of driving the open top Land Rover over the severe North Cascades, combined with the fear of not getting “our” campsite was taking a toll on Scott’s sensibilities. Granted we had discovered “our” campsite waiting and available with no other birders, fisher folk or outdoor enthusiast for miles around. The tent was set up, the kitchen in order and the scope was in place scanning the lake for our feathered friends of previous visits. But skunks, swimming?! Sure enough as I stepped up and looked through the eyepiece a magnificent Striped Skunk was paddling across the lake in the most serene manner. Its long black and white tail floating behind just as if this was an ordinary short cut for any self respecting skunk. It eventually reached shore and waded through the cattails in search of more skunkly pursuits.

Thus began another intriguing weekend in the Okanogan- an area we have visited and camped in regularly over the last four years, always in search of good bird sightings.
Each spring we conduct a breeding bird survey over a 25-mile route, counting innumerable Western Meadowlarks, thrilling at the Bobolink and Bank Swallow colonies, and marveling at the occasional Golden Eagle. This September we were setting up another survey route through the Wildlife Refuge in hopes of adding species of interest in the confines of the refuge.

At least that was our goal. But there are so many other wonders of nature to discover when one goes birding. The concrete outhouse near the campsite surprised us last spring with a very large Western Rattlesnake guarding the front door. Not a shock one wants to discover prior to entering any bathroom. This fall I checked immediately to see if it was still on duty. Alas, the snake had moved on but the quarter sized female Black Widow was doing a superb job of guarding the interior from any unsuspecting flies that may have wandered in.

While marking the stops of our new bird route on the GPS I caught sight of yet another “cool critter”. Quickly insisting Scott stop the Land Rover, I jumped out and caught the biggest Rubber Boa I have ever seen. A fascinating snake, gentle in manner, unless you are a vole, small bird or smaller snake; they defend themselves by curling up and placing their head shaped tail up through the coils, while hiding their real head safely at the bottom of the pile. We enjoyed its cool, rubbery muscular body gliding gently over our hands then quietly placed it back in a safe area away from the road.

The new route marked carefully on to the lap top, we returned to the campsite for some real birding. This consists of carefully placing oneself in a camp chair facing the lake and waiting for the world to fly and float by. We were rewarded with no less than 38 Wood Ducks dabbling about in the water weeds. Many of the group was adults in full breeding plumage – the males could not have been more stunning reflected against the quiet windless lake. It was good to see the large number of young they had successfully raised during the long hot summer months. The Pied-billed Grebes were still raising their stripy headed youngsters – trying desperately to fill the months of these peeping beggars. Their cries were heard across the lake from dawn till dusk.

Each evening as we watched the sky fill with a carpet of stars from horizon to horizon, listening for Western Screech Owls and Great Horned Owls calling from the pines we promised we would go to sleep right after the next shooting star. But it was hard as the days and nights were filled with so many sights and sounds of nature at her best in the Okanogan. And really isn’t that what birding is all about – getting outside, discovering new and vivid memories. So go outside – go birding – you never know, you might see a skunk swimming!