At any time of year, but during the holidays especially, new birders are likely to become confused by some of the birds they see on cards, calendars—even in animations. Don’t beat yourself up. The reason for your confusion is simple: many creative types (including those who aren’t birders) often pay scant attention to what a bird is or where it actually comes from. Artists especially, when they decide to make a bird painting or land a contract for bird art, cruise the internet for photos of birds. “Hey, I like that one!” they may say, not realizing that the bird has no relation to their intended audiences.
Just recently, in fact, Amy and I were wandering around a wonderful art walk night in Billings and stopped in at one place to admire the work of a new artist. Amy noticed some bird cards, and we bought a few. What was on them? A European species! I asked the artist if she knew she had painted a European bird, and she said, “No. I just liked how it looked.”
Can you name this bird? It’s not a North American species—but you will find it on plenty of cards, calendars—even in some popular movies.
In my experience, the most common occurrence of this kind of thing happens with Old World and New World robins. Look at the bird above. What do you see? If you answer “robin”, you are correct—but it’s not the robin we see here in North America. The bird above is a European Robin—in other words, the original robin. The robin we have here is the American Robin. What’s more, the two are only distantly related. European Robins belong to the family Muscicapidae, a group consisting primarily of Old World Flycatchers. American Robins belong to the family—don’t laugh—Turdidae, or thrushes. So how did these birds come to share the name “robin”?
How else? Colonial imperialism.
According to a 2011 segment of BirdNote, early English birders once dubbed the Baltimore Oriole the Golden Robin, though it has little relation to either the European or American Robin.
I won’t try to prove this, but it seems that the English were the original birdwatchers, and they carried their passion with them to the vast territories that they subjugated, usually without their owners’ permissions. In fact, the English pretty much disregarded the original occupants of a place along with any native knowledge of animals these occupants might possess. As a result, Brits gleefully conferred new names on most of the strange and interesting animals they encountered. Often these new names were actually old names that the English were already familiar with—including the name Robin, aka Robin Redbreast.
According to the delightful BirdNote episode titled, “How the Robin Got Its Name,” the English went a little buck wild with the name Robin. They called towhees Ground Robins. They dubbed the Baltimore Oriole the Golden Robin. If you compare the photo of the European Robin at the top with the photo below, it’s not hard to figure out how the American Robin got its name, either. But while chances are good that most American birders have come to appreciate American Robins, I’m guessing many of us haven’t encountered its etymological ancestor.
We can thank early British twitchers for bestowing the name “robin” on perhaps our most colorful THRUSH, the American Robin.
Both Braden and I have had the good fortune to see European Robins several times in the past few years, and I must tell you, they are delightful—if somewhat shy—birds. The first time was in Amsterdam’s Vondelpark, which we birded during a long layover on our way to Israel. Sure enough, in Israel we also saw “EUROs” several times. Most recently, Amy and I enjoyed seeing European Robins in Barcelona (see our post “Birding Barcelona, Part 1: The Urban Core.”).
A European Robin scraping for invertebrates in Barcelona’s most central urban park, Parc Ciutadella.
I always take special delight in seeing this bird, perhaps because of its name, but also because it is every bit as beautiful as our American Robin. As mentioned above, the European Robin belongs to the Old World Flycatcher family, and I have seen them perched—presumably waiting to snag an insect out of the air. Like many other birds in its family, however, the European Robin seems more of a ground forager. Most recently, in Barcelona’s Ciutadella Park, I watched them scraping through dead leaves for invertebrates. Only a few days later, we watched one boldly perched above a pond in the botanical gardens.
Even though they aren’t closely related, AMROs and EUROs share a lot in common. Both live exclusively in the northern hemisphere, and are one of the most common land birds on their respective continents. And while they are year-round residents in large parts of their ranges, they also have distinctly migratory populations. They also both love to gorge themselves on insects, worms, and other hapless, creatures without backbones—but neither turns down fruit and seeds when the right opportunities arise.
American Robin perched in our burr oak tree.European Robin in Amsterdam’s Vondelpark.
Our defiantly anti-imperial bent may lead some American birders to proclaim that our robin is the superior bird. After all, it’s bigger and has a bolder red breast, but making such a claim is downright silly. Both birds are worthy of admiration and provide a terrific opportunity to further our birding educations. Best of all, as we travel North America, Europe, the Middle East, or north Africa, it is likely that we will always have one of these lovely creatures to greet us!
In case you missed our last post, Sneed’s new book, Like No Other: Earth’s Coolest One-of-a-Kind Creatures, is now out just in time to enhance summer science education. To order, click on the book jacket in the right column!
Have you ever contemplated attending a birding festival? Braden and I have attended festivals in Monterey Bay, San Diego, and Rockport-Fulton near Corpus Cristi. All were terrific. I have to say, though, that our favorite is right here in Montana. After last year’s Wings Across the Big Sky birding festival in Great Falls, I was skeptical that this year’s fest in Helena could match it. How wrong I was! This year’s festival would not only prove wonderful in itself, but provide the perfect launch pad for Braden’s and my 13-day birding safari to eastern Montana. In fact, even before we reached Helena, Braden made what may be his greatest Montana bird discovery yet.
We left Missoula early on Friday, May 31st. Our first destination? Browns Lake, site of many past wonderful birding experiences—but nothing like we would have today. After the turnoff to Browns Lake, we always stop at a little riparian area and, as usual, got out to listen and look. Right away, we heard Dusky Flycatchers, Warbling Vireos, and Yellow and Yellow-rumped Warblers. Then, Braden heard an American Redstart and began “pishing” it in so that we could catch a look. I had my camera focused on a Yellow Warbler when Braden urgently hissed, “Daddy! Get over here now!” I rushed over to find him training his binoculars on a mind-blowing find: a Bay-breasted Warbler!
Perhaps Braden’s best Montana bird find ever, this glorious male Bay-breasted Warbler gave us great looks despite my horrible photos. This bird made the Montana Rare Bird Alert.
For those of you who don’t know it, Bay-breasted Warblers breed mainly in spruce forests of northern Canada across to the far northeast of the U.S. During migration, they almost never pass through eastern Montana, not to mention western Montana. True, I had seen a female in Missoula several years ago, but the gorgeous male in front of us shouldn’t have been anywhere within 500 miles of where we were standing—and, accordingly, made Montana’s Rare Bird Alert.
With that auspicious beginning, we happily proceeded to Carroll College in Helena for the Wings Across the Big Sky opening banquet. That featured an excellent talk by Tiffany Kersten, who set the Lower 48 Big Year record in 2021, and spoke eloquently about the challenges of birding as a solo female. Tiffany now is the proud owner of NatureNinja Birding Tours, and I can only guess that her guiding and tour experiences are not to be missed.
Usually uncooperative, Yellow Warblers gave us great looks at Vigilante Camprground near Helena.
Saturday morning, Braden and I convened at the festival breakfast for our first field trip, led by the highly-skilled veteran Montana birder, Sharon Dewart-Hansen. We were excited about the field trips we had signed up for because they would take us to places we had never before birded, and Sharon led us to Vigilante Campground northeast of Helena. After driving up a spectacular canyon, about 15 of us piled out to bird. Immediately, a Broad-tailed Hummingbird loudly buzzed us—a Montana Lifer for both Braden and me. Walking the campground, we were regaled with the songs of Ovenbirds, MacGillivray’s Warblers, Hammond’s Flycatchers, Veerys, and always my personal favorites, Lincoln’s Sparrows. A Ruffed Grouse drummed cooperatively several times.
Have I posted more Lincoln’s Sparrows than any other bird on FatherSonBirding? Perhaps, but who can blame me? I just love these guys!
After scouring the campground, we headed up canyon on foot and were treated to Violet-green Swallows and White-throated Swifts. On the way to the Vesta Cerra Ranch, whose owners generously allowed us to stop to eat lunch and admire their hummingbird feeders, we stopped for better looks at Broad-tailed Hummingbirds!
This Broad-tailed Hummingbird was a Montana Lifer for both Braden and me. These birds are quite rare and localized in the state, with the heart of their breeding range south of Montana.
After packing up our car early Sunday morning, we headed out for our second field trip, guided by expert Montana birders Hilary Turner and Andrew Guttenberg. Once again, we were treated to fabulous birding through brand new territory that featured awesome grassland, riparian, and canyon birding. The highlight was a visit to the private Phantom Springs Ranch, where we recorded 45 species, including wonderful looks at displaying Bobolinks. Here, two Sandhill Cranes tried to join our group, but we had to politely inform them that our field trip was full.
These two Sandhill Cranes tried to join our group at Phantom Springs Ranch, but we had to politely turn them away.
After birding several other wonderful spots northwest of Helena, Braden and I sadly said goodbye to our intrepid birding companions. That sadness quickly turned to excitement, however, as we steered north on the next stage of what would become a 2,500-mile birding extravaganza . . .
Led by trip leaders, field biologist Hilary Turner (far left) and Andrew Guttenberg (third from left), our group enjoyed superlative birding in places Braden (second from left) and I had never before explored.
Following Memorial Day, it is fitting that FSB presents a wonderful guest birding post about Hawai’i by Roger Kohn. For many Americans, World War II began in Hawai’i and left few families untouched by the experience. Roger’s dad served in the Navy during the war, and both of my grandfathers (Braden’s great-grandfathers) served in the Pacific. Meanwhile at home, my grandmother and great aunt worked in the huge Pratt & Whitney aircraft engine plant in Kansas City. As we honor all who served, I can’t help wonder how astonished our veterans would be to see peacetime Hawai’i today—a peace won by their commitment, intelligence, and sacrifice.
“I’m just going out there to hang out with my brothers, sip a few local beers, and eat good seafood”, I told Sneed in a February phone call. “Of course I’ll bird some, but it’s not really a birding trip.” I had made plans for what I called The Brother Summit. My California brother and I would go to Honolulu in April and visit our other brother, a Hawai’i resident. “Every trip is a birding trip,” Sneed quipped. I immediately knew he was right.
Our Special Hawai’i Correspondent, Roger Kohn, celebrates a big birding score at a viewpoint on the descent from the Koʻolau mountains.
Although I wanted to see as many birds as possible, I faced some built-in barriers. My brothers are not birders and I would not have a car, so I would have to find creative ways to get to some good birding hotspots. One way was to book a tour with a bird guide. I knew this was my only chance to see two Oahu endemic species (found nowhere else in the world, including other Hawaiian Islands): the Oahu Amakihi and the Oahu Elepaio.
On the first morning of the trip, my guide and I ascended the Koʻolau mountains that tower above Honolulu. Our first stop? A roadside spot for seeing the Oahu Amakihi, a bright yellow honeycreeper and our first Oahu endemic target. As we searched for the Amakihi, we picked up two dove species (Spotted and Zebra, both very common), Red-vented Bulbuls, the omnipresent Red-crested Cardinals and Rose-ringed Parakeets (an invasive species considered a pest in Hawaii due to its impacts on agriculture, but I must confess, fun to see). I also saw my first Warbling White-eye of the trip, a Lifer for me. (For some fun perspective on this and other widely-introduced species, also Sneed’s Japan posts such as “Birding Japan: Tokyo, Part I” and Braden’s and Sneed’s post, “Layover Birding in Amsterdam.”)
I saw this Warbling White-eye near the pool at my brother’s condo tower.
After a while, the guide spotted our target bird feeding in a ginger plant at the edge of the road, and we enjoyed good looks. The Oahu Amikihi is a beautiful bird, and the first honeycreeper species I’ve ever seen. The species is designated “near threatened” in eBird, so I felt very fortunate to see it. With this success under our belts, we headed down from the mountains, pausing at a viewpoint to take in epic views of Honolulu, with its skyscrapers and Diamond Head (the volcanic feature that looms over the city), backed by the deep blue waters of the Pacific.
I loved seeing an Oahu Amakihi, a honeycreeper found on Oahu and nowhere else.
Our second stop was a forest trail with the goal of locating the Oahu Elepaio. This proved difficult, and at one point we had been trying for at least an hour and half without success. Finally, as we made our way back to the trailhead, the guide spotted two or three individuals in bushes near the trail! We did not have good looks at the birds, which moved rapidly and offered us only brief, very filtered views as they flitted among the bushes. This flycatcher species is not much to look at, brown on top and white-ish underneath. But this Oahu endemic is listed as “vulnerable” in eBird, and once again I was grateful for the chance to see a rare Hawai’ian species.
A gorgeous Red-billed Leiothrix allowed me a few good looks in the Makiki Forest Recreation Area.Even though introduced species such as this have had direct and indirect impacts on native Hawai’ian animals and ecosystems, they do offer an unusual opportunity to observe and learn birds from other parts of the world.
The next day, I got my first good looks at a Pacific Golden Plover on somebody’s front lawn. In breeding plumage, this plover species is quite striking, with a black belly and face, a thick, clean white stripe down the side of the neck, and brown, white, and shiny gold patches on the back. I would subsequently see this species all over town in any available stretch of green space, from small lawns to big city parks. Their migration to Alaska loomed, so my April visit proved ideal.
Resplendent Pacific Golden Plovers were a common sight in any available green space in Honolulu as they prepared to migrate to Alaska.
Fast-forward a couple of days, and I was thrilled to get a chance to score some seabird Lifers. I had a big gap in my life list, with no shearwater, tropicbird, noddy, or booby species. However, during my pre-trip study, I came across a hotspot where many of these species could potentially be seen: the Japanese Fishing Shrine, on the southeastern coast of Oahu. This hotspot is literally just a shrine on a hunk of lava rock that juts out into the sea. There is nowhere to walk, so whatever birds I would see would have to come to me. One species that I particularly wanted to find was the Red-tailed Tropicbird, an elegant white seabird with a red bill and long red tail streamers. Not long after I arrived, I got my target, as four or five Red-tailed Tropicbirds traced large circles in the sky. At first, they were pretty far away, but as time went on their flight paths kept coming closer and closer to me and I was able to see them up close and capture great photos. A Lifer, and a spectacular one at that! In between tropicbird sightings, I scanned for other species and managed to pick up a pair of Sooty Terns, another Lifer, flying low over the ocean in the distance. Rendezvousing with my brothers, we headed to Kona Brewing, where they helped me celebrate my seabird treasure with a couple of rounds of delicious seasonal beers at the bar, with sea breezes whooshing around us in a pretty marina setting.
An elegant Red-tailed Tropicbird patrols the southeastern coast of Oahu.
One area that piqued my interest was the wetlands near Kailua, on the southeastern coast. After a pretty, 25-minute drive on the Pali highway and a superb lunch of a grilled mahi mahi sandwich and guilt-free fries (highly recommended!), my brothers dropped me off at Kaha Park. This is the starting point for exploring the Kawainui Marsh Wildlife Sanctuary, a delightful spot graced with abundant water and velvety green mountain views. Right away, I was rewarded with up-close views of Common Gallinules, including a super cute youngster that would melt the heart of even the most jaded observer.
A Common Gallinule chick at the Kawainui Marsh Wildlife Sanctuary. Whoose da cutest bird in the marsh?!
As I continued walking, I got good looks at both bulbul species (Red-whiskered and Red-vented), Common Waxbills, and Northern Cardinals. In the grasses, I saw another Lifer: a Scaly-breasted Munia, a songbird with rich chestnut hues above and an attractive and well-defined scaly pattern on the belly. Another introduced species (native to India and southeast Asia), this was another Lifer for me.
A handsome Scaly-breasted Munia in the grasses on my wetlands exploration.
As I returned to the trailhead, someone pointed out a Black-crowned Night Heron, which I had missed as it stood as still as a statue in the water a mere 50 feet away from me. While I waited to be picked up, I scored yet another Lifer, Java Sparrows (which are actually finches, so I wonder what genius named them Sparrows?), which were foraging in a grassy field nearby. In an hour and a half, I had picked up three Lifers, which I celebrated with my brothers at Lanikai Brewing. The parking lot for the brewery faces a pretty stretch of Hamakua Marsh, where I was delighted to pick up another Lifer, Hawaiian Coot, and see Black-necked Stilts for the only time on the trip. Bonus brewery birding, woohoo!
Finding Black-necked Stilts in Hamakua Marsh right behind Lanikai Brewing was a serendipitous event.
Another trip highlight was finding a small flock of Yellow-fronted Canaries, a boldly patterned bright yellow finch native to Africa, in a waterfront park. I had assumed I’d have to head up into the mountains or to some specific hotspot to find this species. Yet here they were, busily calling and feeding in a park amidst the hubbub of Waikiki. I also got brief but spectacular views of a Red-billed Leiothrix in all its multicolored glory, which I had barely seen on the guided tour, in the Makiki Forest Recreation Area. Bird of the Trip honors is a tough call, but I’d say it’s a toss-up between this species and the Red-tailed Tropicbird.
A Yellow-fronted Canary poses for me at Fort Derussy park in Waikiki.
As of mid-May, according to eBird, 108 species have been reported in Honolulu County (encompassing the entire island of Oahu) so far this year. In a nine-day trip in which birding was only one of several priorities, I managed to see 31 species. Seventeen of those were Lifers, which far exceeded my expectations. With determination and a little help from my brothers, I had an excellent birding trip to Honolulu. Indeed, in the words of a wise blogger I know, every trip is a birding trip.
Our Bend, Oregon-based correspondent, Roger Kohn traces his birding obsession to a November 2016 Sneed visit to the Bay Area and considers Sneed his birding mentor. Though grateful for that, he sure wishes Sneed would increase his consumption and appreciation of craft beer.(Editor’s Note: I’m not sure what Roger is complaining about. I have been known to drink up to two beers a month!)
