Category Archives: Humor

Birding with the President

One of the fun parts of being a birder and a writer is being invited to speak to other groups of birders. This often entails travel to fun new locations and the opportunity to meet many wonderful people. Earlier this week, I had one such exceptional experience when I was invited to go birding with the President . . . of the Flathead Audubon Society.

Oh, did the title of this blog lead you to believe I got to bird with President Joe Biden? If so, I had no intention of misleading you. But no offense to Joe, I probably had much more fun birding with Flathead Audubon’s president, Darcy Thomas, and her husband, Rob. Flathead Audubon is one of the most active Montana Audubon chapters, serving both as a focal point for birders and bird science and conservation in northwest Montana. It has been involved in a number of invaluable projects including the Jewel Basin Hawk Watch and vital conservation and education projects in and around Kalispell. As the chapter’s new president, Darcy is employing her great energy and enthusiasm to keeping the group flying forward. (Find out more by visiting https://flatheadaudubon.org/.)

**La Presidente, herself: Darcy Thomas of the Flathead Audubon Society.**

Darcy and I had planned for me to speak to her chapter members Monday night, so I rose early that day and headed toward Kalispell to sneak in a day of birding with Darcy before my talk. My expectations were rather low as many species had already migrated through Montana, and high water in lakes and ponds made shorebirds unlikely. Still, I welcomed the chance to bird with Darcy on her own turf, and maybe learn some great new places to visit in the Kalispell area.

**Although I arrived at Duck Road with low expectations, the Savannah Sparrows put on a sparrow show like I had never experienced.**

On my drive up, I decided to make a quick stop at Duck Road just above Ninepipe National Wildlife Refuge. Over the years, this rural gravel road has been one of Braden’s and my favorite places to bird. We’ve observed about 100 species there including Sandhill Cranes, the occasional shorebird, and tons of raptors including my personal favorite, Short-eared Owls (see our post “250 Montana Birds or Bust!”). Today, the first thing I noticed were sparrows flitting everywhere. We usually get a few here, but today I seemed to pass a mini-flock every couple hundred yards. I pulled over for a closer look and discovered that they were Savannah Sparrows, obviously in mega-migration numbers. Driving about five miles, I counted more than 200 of these delightful critters. I also was surprised to hear a pair of Sandhill Cranes in the distance along with a Western Meadowlark enjoying our late warm weather. Rounding out the list: a Lesser Yellowlegs, an American Pipit, and a pair of especially charismatic Northern Harriers.

Northern Harriers rarely perch for a snapshot, but this beauty gave me a few seconds to record just how gorgeous they are. Note the “dish” or “cup” around the eye. Like many owls, Northern Harriers often hunt by sound, and the dishes help focus the tiniest sounds to the birds’ ears as they patrol fields and marshes.

I rendezvoused with Darcy in Somers, famous for being where Braden and I saw both our Lifer Snowy Owl (see our post “A Quest for Snowy Owls”) and Lifer Gyrfalcon (see our post “Payin’ Raptor Dues, Reapin’ Raptor Rewards”). I had told Darcy I was especially keen on finding shorebirds, and we hit one spot only to find it completely dry. Next, however, Darcy took me to Split Pond, where I picked up my first Horned Grebe of the Year. After that, we took scenic backroads over to Creston Wetlands, where birders had recently seen an extremely rare Montana visitor, a Hudsonian Godwit. Alas, the godwit had moved on, but the best part of our day was yet to come . . .

**Once again, if only eBird had a place to record mammals, this rare pygmy hippo sighting would have helped make Darcy and me famous!**

After collecting my trusty minivan, I followed Darcy back to her house, where her husband Rob had made us the perfect snack—tuna sliders! That fortified the three of us as Rob drove us to a Kalispell hotspot I’d always wanted to visit, the West Valley Ponds. About half a dozen ponds actually fill the area, but the road passes three major ones, and the first thing I learned is that in fall, the place becomes Sandhill Crane Central! Darcy told me that up to 500 or more cranes gather here to feed up on grain dropped in the surrounding farmers’ fields before they migrate south. At first, we saw only a handful, but the more we focused, the more cranes we saw! It was a real treat, and by far the most Sandhill Cranes I’d ever seen in one place in Montana.

**As we kept sharpening our focus, Sandhill Cranes seemed to appear everywhere in and around West Valley Ponds.**

Ducks are tough these days as they are in their generic “intermolt plumage”, but we managed to ID all three teals and American Wigeons, along with a quartet of Trumpeter Swans. As we were rounding a curve, though, I said, “Stop. Stop. Stop”, and as Rob pulled up, Darcy and I got our binoculars on a small bird wagging its tail and playing in a nearby puddle. “American Pipit!” I exclaimed. Though I’d seen one earlier in the day at Ninepipe, that had been at a distance, and I never get enough of these birds. They breed up in high alpine meadows and, in fact, Braden and I had seen my first high-altitude pipit at Logan Pass only a month ago. It was nice to see one down in the valley before it begins its fall migration to Arizona, Mexico, or even farther south.

I wondered if I would see an American Pipit today—and was not disappointed. The birds are gracing our lowlands as they migrate from their high-altitude breeding sites to their overwintering grounds farther south. **This was my first of two for the day, on Duck Road.**

Darcy and Rob saved the best for last. As we pulled up to the final pond, we climbed out to admire a mix of waterfowl and a flock of about 300 Red-winged and (at least) 4 Yellow-headed Blackbirds in a large bunch of cattails. Suddenly, a dark streak caught the corner of my eye. “Falcon!” I yelled and the three of us watched enthralled as the bird shot straight toward the cattails. All 300 of the blackbirds frantically took flight, some in the same direction the falcon was flying. We saw the falcon twist and turn trying to nab one, but at least this time, the blackbirds got the better of it.

**West Valley Ponds are one of the Kalispell area’s most productive and scenic places to bird—but today, they were also the site of a daring Peregrine Falcon attack!**

By this time you’re probably asking, But what kind of falcon was it? Often, I am unsure in these situations. Falcons appear and fly off so quickly that it’s sometimes difficult to get any kind of look. Darcy and I agreed, however, that this bird’s dark slate wings, large size, and powerful flight left no doubt that it was a Peregrine—my 237^th Montana bird for 2023. It was a great way to wrap my birding afternoon with the President, and provided a perfect prelude to my evening visit with the fun folks at Flathead Audubon.

Crane 1: “Hey, what’s Bernie doing over there in front of that hay bale?”
Crane 2: “Think we ought to go check it out?”
**Crane 3: “Heck yeah!”**

Bitterns Under the Big Sky

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You may have noticed a paucity of posts since my daughter and I returned from Japan. It’s not for a lack of birding action. In fact, the past couple of months have seen our busiest birding in a couple of years. Braden has been strenuously counting eastern songbirds while I have been crisscrossing the state on various writing and speaking assignments, some of which I hope to share with you when I get several deadlines out of the way. Meanwhile, big thanks to our recent guest poster Roger Kohn for stepping in during our delinquence! And now, for today’s story . . .

The second weekend in June, my work took me to Montana Audubon’s Wings Across the Big Sky Festival, to be held in Great Falls. I had received a surprise invitation to speak at the event as well as lead two birding outings to one of Braden’s and my favorite Montana hotspots, Benton Lake National Wildlife Refuge. The festival kicked off on a Friday afternoon, but I cunningly calculated that if I got up early, I could get in a couple of solid birding sessions beforehand on the east side of the divide. I was on the road by 5 a.m. and cautiously drove into the dawn on Hwy 200, headed toward Great Falls. Why cautiously? Because this was the time of greatest risk of striking deer and other animals on the highway. Near Lincoln, in fact, I passed a dead elk and a smashed up car flashing its hazards off to the side of the road. I drove by, but then thought, “Wait. What if someone is still inside of that car?” and quickly turned around. Fortunately, I discovered no bleeding bodies, but it reinforced my caution as I continued my journey.

**On my approach to Freezeout, I espied a Wilson’s Snipe and couldn’t resist pulling over for a photo. Can you see the raindrops?**

The first stop on my birding agenda was Freezeout Lake, a place readers will be familiar with from past posts. Since we began birding, Braden and I have visited Freezeout more than a dozen times—and not just when the lake receives its famous influx of tens of thousands of Snow Geese migrating north in March. Over the years, we had made great discoveries at all times of year, including Clark’s Grebes, Tundra Swans, awesome shorebirds, and our Lifer Short-eared Owl. One bird that had always eluded us? American Bittern.

**At first it’s not much to look at, but Freezeout Lake is a vital resting and breeding location for tens of thousands of Montana birds.**

“I don’t understand it,” Braden told me via telephone the night before I left. “Other people go to Freezeout and see bitterns right in front of them, but we’ve never seen one there.”

“I guess we just haven’t paid our dues,” I said. “But I’ll keep a close eye out for them.”

Despite this promise, I held little hope of seeing one of these secretive birds. For one, they were thinly scattered across the state. Braden and I had heard one in the Swan Valley two years ago, and I had heard another at Bowdoin in 2022, but we had never seen a bittern in Montana, and I didn’t expect to this morning. Nonetheless, I arrived at Freezeout before 8:00 a.m. and eagerly set out along the management area’s dirt roads. Northern Shovelers and Gadwalls sat in the middle of the road, only reluctantly moving out of my way as I approached. Savannah Sparrows and Killdeer called through my open windows. I spotted several Wilson’s Phalaropes and, out on the water, a complement of American White Pelicans and Western Grebes. I especially searched for Short-eared Owls, but not a one was to be seen. After spending half an hour tolerating the mosquitoes, I turned around and made my way back to the beginning of the main driving loop.

I’d never seen so many Western Grebes at Freezeout as I saw last weekend. Surprisingly, I found not a single Clark’s Grebe despite studying more than a dozen possibilities through the scope. Up close, Clark’s are easily distinguished by a more orange-colored bill and the black facial line that rises above the eye, not below it as in this fellow.

Turning left onto the loop, I sharpened my senses as I guided my minivan into an area of thick cattails and brimming canals. Yellow-headed Blackbirds emitted their harsh cacophony and I heard a Sora in the distance. Glancing out my right window, I hit the brakes.

“No way,” I said.

Like most birders, I had been victim to wishful thinking countless times while birding, but as soon as I saw the thing standing out among the cattails a hundred yards away, I knew what it was. American Bittern!

**With the bird’s amazing camouflage,** **I may not have seen this American Bittern if that Red-winged Blackbird hadn’t shouted, “Hey, Dude in the minivan, check this guy out!”**

I turned off the engine, picked up my camera, and quietly climbed out of my minivan. I took several documentation photos and then silently studied this remarkable apparition through my binoculars. American Bitterns truly are bizarre-looking creatures. Grouped with shorebirds, bitterns display some of the most superior camouflage in the bird world. Brown overall, with brown and white stripes running down their long necks, they are famous for their “freeze pose” in which they extend their necks vertically, making them blend in almost perfectly with the cattails or rushes around them. In fact, as I watched, the bittern held this pose for several minutes before lowering its head and looking for food.

As famous as their freeze pose is, their call matches it for bizarreness. A deep guttural sound that some describe as pump-er-lunk, the bird sounds like nothing else in the natural world. The first time Braden and I heard it in the wild, I hardly believed it was real and accused Braden of playing it on his phone. It was real alright, and this morning, to my amazement, the bittern in front of me emitted this sub-woofer sound across the marsh.

**When I first saw this guy, I was hopeful I’d found a Red Knot, which Nick Ramsey had told me were passing through the state. Still, I was not unhappy when my knot untied itself into a Willet!**

After a few minutes, the bird flew away, and I watched it go, still in shock that this bird had decided to grace me with an actual sighting. I knew it could be a long time before I saw another one. Once hunted widely, bitterns continued to decline through the twentieth century due to wetlands loss and degradation, and perhaps pesticides. According to Cornell Labs’ Birds of the World, “Remarkably little is known about the biology of this species.” As I continued driving, though, I hoped that this one-of-a-kind bird would continue to find safety and nesting areas in Montana—even if I never personally got to see one again.

Birding Japan: Return to Tokyo and Trip Wrap

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Since we published them, our birding posts about Japan have been read in more than a dozen countries. If you are planning your own trip to Japan, you’re in luck! Sneed’s new book, FIRST-TIME JAPAN: A STEP-BY-STEP GUIDE FOR THE INDEPENDENT TRAVELER, tells you everything you need to know about how to plan your trip to this remarkable, yet sometimes intimidating, country. Order now by clicking here.

This wraps up Sneed’s birding adventures in Japan. We hope you’ve enjoyed these posts, especially if you might be contemplating a birding or, more likely, semi-birding trip to this remarkable country. If this is your first time seeing these posts, please do start at the beginning so you can enjoy them all the way through. Thanks for tuning in!

After our tour around the southern part of Honshu, returning to Tokyo felt like coming home for Tessa and me, but our excitement for the world’s largest megalopolis remained undimmed. While we’d spent our first stint near Tokyo Station, I chose Shibuya for our second Tokyo visit of four nights. As expected, this part of town immediately seemed a lot more “swinging” than Tokyo Station, with gazillions of young people streaming between trains, malls, restaurants, and, well, you name it. Even better, Shibuya Station is home to the famous statue of Hachiko—the subject of a wonderful picture book by Pamela S. Turner and a pretty awful movie with Richard Gere. Having written my own heart-rending dog book, Shep—Our Most Loyal Dog, I naturally felt great affection for Hachiko.

Well, I tried birding Shibuya at night, but you can see there were a lot of distractions!

I felt less sure of my birding strategy from Shibuya, but several large parks beckoned. I also had left my beloved headlamp at the hotel near Tokyo Station, giving me an excuse to drag Tessa across town to what turned out to be one of our favorite Tokyo places, Ueno Park. The southern part of the park in particular has a large area of reed beds conducive to watching waterfowl, gulls, cormorants, and other birds.

I honestly hadn’t expected much from Ueno Park, but Tessa and I truly enjoyed it. Hint: as you’re traversing it, walk up (or down) the EAST side of the park to avoid getting lost in a neighborhood.

Rather than give a blow-by-blow of Tokyo, though, I’d like to use this last post to briefly reflect on my overall impressions of birding in Japan—keeping in mind that my experiences were somewhat limited by our decision to travel almost exclusively by public transport and that we didn’t go to any great lengths to reach any truly wild regions of the country. Then again, that is how most people visit Japan (unless they are shackled to tour buses), so my reflections may have some resonance for you.

A not-so-well kept secret is the observation deck in the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building in Shinjuku. From here we got a great view of Yoyogi Park and the Meiji Jingu Shrine area.

First, I didn’t find what I consider a great diversity of birds in Japan. The country has an impressive overall total, but my guess is that many of these require travel to the extreme northern and southern points of the country. Then again, as only a modestly skilled birder, I often find that less is more. Before our trip, I learned probably 70 or 80 birds—which, to be honest, was about my capacity. Also, while I thought we might hit migration season, that did not seem to be the case. Most of the birds I saw at the end of March and beginning of April appeared to be year-round residents. A month later . . . who knows?

My last birding excursion of the trip was to Gyoen National Garden, perhaps the loveliest Tokyo park I visited on the trip–and the site of my last Japan life bird, a Pale Thrush.

Second, Japan does have very cool birds. I loved getting to know the common birds such as Black Kite, Brown-eared Bulbul, White-cheeked Starling, Japanese Tit, Dusky Thrush, and Eastern Spot-billed Duck. Added to these were some truly adrenaline-producing species such as Japanese Wagtail, Daurian Redstart, Little Ringed Plover, Japanese Pygmy Woodpecker, and Bull-headed Shrike. Bottom line: even in tourist areas, birders can reap big rewards by birding Japan.

One of the real surprises of birding Japan was seeing a Northern Goshawk—a bird I’ve seen only three or four times in Montana. This is a sensitive species in Japan, so I can’t share where I saw it, but it was a trip highlight for sure.

Third, if I am fortunate enough to return to Japan, I definitely want to explore some of the more way-out places. Tessa and I invariably loved the places we visited that were more off the beaten path such as Sendai and Kanazawa, and I can only imagine what it might be like to visit tropical southern Japan and the oft-frozen isle of Hokkaido.

Even the airports in Japan are way cool. Once we got our bags checked at Haneda, we found this delightful little restaurant for one last good Japanese meal.

Fourth . . . well there is no fourth. It was an amazing trip, and birding played a significant role in my enjoyment of this unique, friendly, accessible country. With that, here are some stats for the curious . . .

Number of eBird Checklists: 27

Number of Species Observed: 56

Number of New Life Birds: 37

Species I’ve also seen in the US: 13

Most Common Bird by Number of Individuals: Brown Eared Bulbul (194 birds, just beating out Large-billed Crow with 193)

Most Surprising Bird: Northern Goshawk!!!

Favorite Bird: (tie) Japanese Wagtail & Bull-headed Shrike

Major Lesson: Keep Birding!

Favorite Trip Bird honors are split between the Bull-headed Shrike and . . .

Birding Japan: Quick Stop in Nagano

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Welcome to Sneed’s fifth—and penultimate—post on his and Tessa’s recent trip to Japan. Once again, some of the least expected places lead to some marvelous birding surprises—this time in the site of the 1998 Olympics, Nagano. Please feel free to share this post and catch up on the other Japan installments.

After a wonderful two-night visit to Kanazawa, Tessa and I definitely felt like we’d passed the halfway mark of our trip as we boarded the shinkansen back toward Tokyo. First, however, I’d scheduled a brief stop in the home of the 1998 Winter Olympics—Nagano. To be honest, I didn’t know if we’d have much to do there. Japan’s famous “hot springs monkeys” lived outside of town, but a little research had shown it probably wouldn’t be worth the hassle to try to find them. Nagano also was home to the very famous Zenko-ji Temple, but it turns out that the train ride alone was worth making the entire loop back to Tokyo. Leaving Kanazawa, the bullet train quickly began hugging a section of the wildest ocean I’d yet seen in Japan. Meanwhile, on the other side of the train, enormous snow-covered peaks rose suddenly and majestically. Passing through the town of Itoigawa, population 40,000, I even imagined living there—that is, until I learned it receives more than 100 inches of rain per year!

Itoiogawa—the perfect place to retire? Well, except for the 100+ inches of rain per year. Glad we caught it on a nice day.

We arrived in Nagano about 11:00 and left our bags at our economy hotel, a perfectly clean, comfortable place that cost less than $90 a night. Then we took a leisurely stroll about a mile up to Zenko-ji Temple, which truly was impressive and a bit mysterious. The map showed the temple surrounded by parks and I thought I might find some cool birds there, but I didn’t espy anything particularly interesting. I soothed my disappointment by trying this kind of apple custard tart thing just outside of the temple and thought, “Ah, well, can’t find birds everwhere.”

Zenko-ji Temple—or at least a small part of it. Impressive? Heck ya!

The next morning, however, I woke at 6:00 a.m. wide awake. Tessa was still snoozing so I’m sure you can guess what I did. On a map, I had noticed a small tributary of the Sai River about half a mile from the hotel. Plenty of time to sneak in a bit ‘o birding before breakfast. Nagano was so built up I had few expectations—and actually wasn’t even sure I could access the river itself. Even before I neared it, though, I was surprised by a large flock of Asian House-Martins flying over a large street. It didn’t take long to discover they were nesting under a pedestrian bridge and I paused for ten minutes to study and enjoy them.

**Though I had glimpsed Asian House-Martins in Kanazawa, it was a real pleasure to visit them up-close and personal!**

Several blocks later, I was delighted to reach the river and discover that nice footpaths ran along both sides of it. I saw only the usual suspects until I crossed a bridge to the other side. Suddenly, I glimpsed an unusual brown shape taking flight and landing on another nearby branch. “Oh my god!” I muttered out loud, rapidly quickening my pace while simultaneously turning on my camera. I took a quick photo and then confirmed it through my binoculars. It was a species I had badly wanted to see—but figured I’d exhausted my last opportunity: Bull-headed Shrike!

I was SO HAPPY to finally see a Bull-headed Shrike that I was grinning and talking to myself. I’m surprised the citizens of Nagano didn’t call the police with reports of a crazy foreigner wandering around.

The shrike behaved like our shrikes back home, but with even less fear. I followed it as it worked its way upstream and am glad I did. I immediately spotted another Meadow Bunting in a bush up ahead, and several Eurasian Greenfinches feeding in someone’s front yard. Then, as the shrike approached one riverside clump of bushes, two Daurian Redstarts popped up to challenge it!

**And I present . . . yet another lousy photo of a Eurasian Greenfinch!**

I was grinning broadly by this time, not believing my luck, but the session was far from over. As I made my way back downstream and across the river, I also saw White-cheeked Starlings, a Great Cormorant, Oriental Turtle-dove, a Dusky Thrush, and more.

**Despite seeing them almost everywhere, I never tired of seeing White-cheeked Starlings. If only I could say the same for our European Starlings back home!**

As I approached my exit point, I noticed movement in a thick patch of bushes. I quickly identified several Masked Buntings, but that wasn’t all. I’m pretty sure I saw a Japanese Bush Warbler. Then, to cap it off, a female Daurian Redstart gave me a terrific photo session (even if I didn’t have a terrific photo device), posing for many moments on various branches as the morning sun beautifully illuminated it. The whole experience once again proved that when in doubt, you should always take a look and that, really, you just never know.

I just loved this female Daurian Redstart. Definitely one of the most cooperative birds of the trip.

Sneed’s eBird checklist of Nagano.

Birding Japan: Kyoto

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Welcome to Part 3 of Sneed’s recent Japan adventure. If you missed the first couple of Japan posts, start here. As always, we appreciate your interest, and please share these with anyone you think will enjoy them.

Our journey to Kyoto gave us one last chance to ride the Enoshima Electric Railway, the adorable little train Tessa and I both fell in love with during our long, rainy weekend in Kamakura. In fact, Japan’s train system is so well thought-out that we simply rode the EER to the end of the line in Fujisowa to catch the Tokaido train to Odawara. There, we boarded the shinkansen (bullet train) for the two-hour ride to Kyoto. Easy peasy. I have to say, however, that Kyoto Station was quite a bit more confusing than Tokyo or any of the other stations we’d visited, but fortunately I knew which subway to catch to our accommodation, a rather modern version of a traditional Japanese inn, or ryokan. As far as I can tell, there’s no perfect location to stay in Kyoto, but our place was only an 8-10 minute walk to two different subway stations. Even better, it was close to what turned out to be a wonderful birding spot, the Kamo River—a place that Tessa and I would return to several times.

Our first look at Kyoto’s Kamo River convinced us to return as often as possible. Kyoto’s birds felt the same way!

Our first full day in Kyoto, I planned for us to visit Fushimi Inari Taisha, a shrine famous for its hundreds (thousands?) of red “torii” gates straddling the paths leading up the mountain. Conveniently, to catch the train to the shrine, we got to walk along the Kamo River. It was a glorious day and many others were out enjoying the sunshine and blooming sakura trees. For my part, I also couldn’t help noticing a lot of birds enjoying the relatively unkempt river bed—including a real surprise, Common Merganser, a duck that we often see in our rivers in Montana!

A pair of Common Mergansers greatly surprised me in Kyoto.

We finished Fushimi Inari Taisha early enough that we decided to go ahead and visit Kyoto’s Imperial Palace and the surrounding Kyoto Gyoen National Garden. The palace was impressively, well, palatial and I was hoping for some excellent birding in the gardens. The over-manicured park, however, once again limited its attractiveness to only the hardiest of species. I did run into a nice little mixed flock that contained a Warbling White-eye, Long-tailed Tit, and my lifer Japanese Bush Warbler, but have to say that I was disappointed overall. Nothing that a big bowl of steaming hot ramen at Ichiran Ramen didn’t cure!

As Kyoto’s Imperial Palace demonstrates, Japanese architects knew what they were doing. If only the places hadn’t burned down every 20 or 30 years!

The next morning, after hitting Kyoto Station to reserve shinkansen tickets for the upcoming legs of our trip, we rode a JR local train out to Arashiyama. Tessa had especially been wanting to visit a bamboo grove, and a large, famous one grew here. We also visited Kameyama Park, located at the mouth of the Katsura River gorge. The sakura were especially wonderful here and, well, the birds turned out to be pretty great, too! As we strolled the gorgeous grounds, I saw a Warbling White-eye and the complete triumvirate of tits: Japanese, Varied, and Long-tailed. Just saying the word “tit” provokes giggles but these birds are essentially the Old World version of chickadees. They look like chickadees. They behave like chickadees. Just as in the States, if you see a tit, chances are other interesting birds are lurking nearby, so I am always happy to spot one.

Kameyama Park is the only place I managed to convince Tessa to give the peace sign for a photo—something almost mandatory for the Japanese!

Following the trails down to the river, we encountered a nice collection of ducks and my first-ever Japanese Wagtail and House Swift! By this time, large crowds had gathered to enjoy the sunshine and sights, so after a quick bite at a local food stand, we high-tailed it back to our ryokan. Our birding in Kyoto was not quite finished, however. I managed two more sessions at Kamo River, the final one the evening before our departure. Tessa was chilling in our room after a busy day of seeing Nijo Castle and the Manga Museum, and doing some gift shopping in Teramachi-dori, one of the expansive covered street malls that seem to be popular in Japan. I had some extra energy so decided on taking one last visit to the river.

My lifer Japanese Wagtail at Kameyama Park. I actually had probably seen one at the Kamo River earlier, but it took me a while to tease out the differences in markings with White Wagtails.

It was a lovely afternoon, and hundreds of Kyoto residents were out taking advantage of it. I walked downstream, enjoying the Black Kites flying overhead and Gray Herons, Great and Little Egrets, Great Cormorants, ducks, and Japanese and White Wagtails along the river. One thing I’d sorely missed on the trip were any kind of shorebirds, but suddenly I saw a suspicious bird standing on a rock across the river. From eBird quizzes I’d taken, I immediately guessed that my shorebird drought might be at an end and that this could be a Common Sandpiper. I was too far away to get a good look at the bill, though, and it seemed too short. That was good because it forced me to call up the Merlin app and dive deeper into the Common Sandpiper’s ID features. Two things stuck out: COSAs had a prominent white “spur” at the shoulder and they often bobbed their tails like wagtails. I again focused my binoculars. “Yep,” I said out loud. “That’s a Common Sandpiper!” Just a few minutes later I saw yet another bird sitting on a rock in the river—this one a Gray Wagtail, completing the “Wagtail Trilogy” for the trip. Neither the Common Sandpiper nor Gray Wagtail were lifers for me, but they brought my Japan bird list up to 47 species. More important, they were an awesome way to finish up our time in Kyoto.

Throughout Japan, I enjoyed Black Kites, but they put on a special show along the Kamo River.

More, much more, lay in store.

Sneed’s Kameyama Park eBird checklist.

Sneed’s final Kamo River eBird checklist.

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