Tag Archive for 'spotting scopes'

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.

The Big Sit – A Birder’s Ultimate Tailgate Party

Published on October 21, 2009 in Binocular Uses and Uncategorized. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , .

Administrator’s note: This is the first blog post slated for the new BirderBlog, scheduled to launch soon. If you’ve ever been birding, you’ll appreciate authors Penny Rose and Scott Hoskins’s expertise. Even if you’re new to birding, Penny and Scott are known for getting first-timers hooked on this rewarding pastime.

The Big Sit- October, 2009

The Big Sit is a very simple yet intriguing event sponsored each October by Birder’s Digest. Your team chooses a 17 foot circle to count species for any length of time during a 24 hour period. Simple right!?

List of absolute necessities for a successful Big Sit:

  • The 17 ft circle – the PERFECT circle
  • Chairs – very comfortable chairs
  • Snacks – lots and lots of snacks
  • Warm clothes – lots and lots of warm clothes
  • Tide Chart – read it accurately- your return home depends on it
  • Binoculars – clean
  • Spotting scope – one for EVERY member of the team
  • Patience – lots and lots of patience

Our team consisted of Scott Hoskin and myself; the site, Discovery Park. As I work in this park our circle had to be out of the public arena. Scott recognized I would have wasted precious birding time providing compliance and interpretive moments for every passerby. The solution – a tucked away pocket beach accessible at low tide in the wee hours of the morning with no escape (or entrance) at high tide during the public hours.

We slogged a mile and half through the seaweed during the pre-dawn hours, toting chairs, scopes, thermoses, and all the essentials for a good day. Settled into to the circle we awaited the first birds. The early morning was maddening with tremendous birding activity: migrating flocks of Band-tailed Pigeons, Song Sparrows galore, several species of gulls to sort through. The stress of missing even one species was exhausting. How could birding be so tiring!?

Yet the rewards were countless. A Hermit Thrush graced us with her presence, feeding along the edge of the forested cliff at our backs and occasionally bobbing amongst the driftwood, close enough to touch. We captured views of Red-throated Loons flying over Puget Sound, their heads seemingly too heavy to hold up. Mid-morning the Belted Kingfisher who had been rattling at us repeatedly, flew to a nearby cliff and began excavating a nest hole. We were fascinated with its woodpecker tail balancing act for over ½ an hour till we realized – Arghh we need more species!

The Law of Diminishing Returns. The more species you see the less you will see. So scan and scope, scan and scope. Soon we picked out a Black Scoter to add to our White-winged and Surf Scoters, Horned Grebes to add to the Red-necked Grebes. A Red-tailed Hawk floated past, oblivious to the angry Kingfisher’s calls. Later a Cooper’s Hawk and Bald Eagle bumped up the raptor list.

And so the day went. The late afternoon lull was spent snacking and focusing on the tide line. Would it really get low enough for us to hike back around the bluff from our little pocket beach? You can’t change the tide, so back to scanning Puget Sound. Low and behold is that a blow from a whale!? The next hour was spent in high excitement watching a super pod of Orca frolic together. Huge dorsal fins identified the adult whales and tiny, tiny dorsal fins spread the good word that young Orca are in the Sound. Spy hopping, tail lobbing, fin splashing. Joyous greetings of three separate Orca pods coming together. We could feel their welcome from our perfect birding circle.

The tide out and our way clear, it was time to call it a day. Just one more scan before leaving rewarded us with a single Western Grebe and the first Bufflehead of the fall, bringing our count to 42 species. As we slipped and slogged back through the seaweed in the gathering dusk, reminiscing about our favorite birds and potential treats to pack next year, I nearly stepped on a Pectoral Sandpiper. Truly a marvelous reward for a very Big Sit.