Category Archives: Humor

Birding Japan: Kamakura by the Sea

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.

Welcome to the second installment of my birding reports from Japan. To read the first report, click here, and of course feel free to share these reports with others—and add your own experiences in the comments section. Thanks for reading!

As mentioned in my last post, one of my goals in birding Japan was to reach 1,000 bird species for my life list. I arrived in the country needing 31 species to hit that mark, but picked up only 13 new lifers during my daughter’s and my first three days in Tokyo. A day trip by bullet train, or shinkansen, to the northern town of Sendai added Japanese Pygmy Woodpecker and Varied Tit to my total, but I felt like the next stop on our itinerary, the seaside town of Kamakura, would have to perform better if I were to keep on pace.

Kamakura lies only about an hour by train from Tokyo and has earned a reputation as a weekend getaway and favorite place for surfing and other water sports. Anticipating that we might need a break after five days in the Big City, I had rented us a tiny apartment only two blocks from the beach, and as soon as we stepped off the train, the area enchanted us. The main train station sits adjacent to a vibrant street full of food and crafts shops, but to reach our lodging we had to hop on the cutest little train you can imagine, ride a few stops, and then roll our luggage a half a kilometer through a quirky little beach town that easily could have been on the Oregon Coast or in Southern California. While trying to find our accommodations, we crossed a little bridge over a canal when a scintillating blue flash caught my eye, followed by another. I didn’t get a great look, but knew immediately what they were—Common Kingfishers, one of my favorite birds and, as it turned out, the only time I got to see them on the trip.

The Island of Sodor? No, but the delightful Enoshima Electric Railway made us wonder!

We arrived at our apartment too early to check in so decided to sit in a children’s playground for a few minutes to rest and recover from our hectic travel morning. I felt eager to get out and find some birds, but there in the playground I didn’t have to. Instead, the birds came to me. First, a dove landed on a phone wire only a few yards away. My adrenaline surging, I whipped out my binoculars and sure enough, it was a lifer I had been hoping for: Oriental Turtle-Dove! Then, I espied a bluish bird flitting around on a nearby rooftop. Swallow or flycatcher? I thought to myself. Instead, I was surprised to identify another lifer I had desperately been wanting to see—a Blue Rock-Thrush. Right there in the playground, we were also joined by a Warbling White-eye and either Japanese or Varied Tits, though I didn’t get a great look at the latter.

**My lifer Oriental Turtle-Dove landed next to our lodging in Kamakura, and we were fortunate to also see them on Enoshima Island and other locations on our trip.**

Leaving our bags, Tessa and I walked down to the beach. Perhaps a hundred surfers crowded the two- to three-foot waves, and Tessa and I saw Carrion Crows and Black Kites for the first time on the trip, both species Braden and I had seen in Israel right before the pandemic.

I’m not sure what this Carrion Crow has in mind, but Tessa and I had great fun watching it and its colleagues on Kamakura’s beach.

Since the forecast called for a rainy weekend, we tore ourselves away from the beach and hiked a mile or so to Kamakura’s most famous attraction, the Great Buddha. This forty-foot-high bronze sculpture was completed around the year 1253, and truly impressed both of us. When we arrived, a rock pigeon perched comfortably atop the Buddha’s head, a fitting signal that the Buddha welcomed both of us! After taking the mandatory photos, we sat on a stone wall and chilled in the statue’s peaceful presence before grabbing an early dinner at a café and then checking into our residence.

**The Great Buddha, or Daibutsu, of Kamakura is apparently the second largest Buddha in Japan and harkens back to about 1252.**

We had plans to take a genuine forest hike in Kamakura, but unfortunately the weather forecast turned out to be all too true. Saturday, umbrellas in hand, we braved the Kamakura food street next to the station, but were forced back home by chilling wetness—though not without nabbing a box of fresh mini-donuts! Sunday, we took the cute little train down the coast to Enoshima, famous for its picturesque island just offshore. A short causeway connected the island to the mainland, and on the way across I spotted the trip’s first Eurasian Wigeons, a species Braden and I are lucky to see once a year in Montana. I was also surprised to find Herring Gulls sitting atop light posts.

A Herring Gull? In Japan? Apparently, the birds know a lot more about their distributions than I do.

Following a beautiful paved winding path up the island’s mountainous terrain, we encountered birds that were now becoming familiar to both of us including Brown-eared Bulbuls, White Wagtails, White-cheeked Starlings, Eurasian Tree Sparrows, and a trio of Oriental Turtle-Doves. The highlight of the day, however, turned out to be a small, gorgeous red shrine tucked away in the trees near the summit. It apparently is one of three shrines on the island collectively known as Enoshima Shrine, and it was built to worship the deities of fishing and sea transport. We weren’t sure what to do there, so I quickly texted Ryosuke, a Japanese foreign-exchange student who happens to be spending the year at Tessa’s high school and who had been tutoring me in Japanese. He quickly texted back instructions, and we paid our respects before heading back down the mountain. Thank you Ryosuke!

Don’t look into his eyes. Just move on slowly. Nothing to see here.

Lifer count for the weekend? A mere two species, making our next destination, Kyoto, essential for my evil plans to reach my life list millennium mark.

My Enoshima eBird Checklist.

Birding Japan: Tokyo, Part I

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Well, I warned you it would be a while before you heard from us again, but we hope you find the reasons acceptable. Braden has been chasing salamanders and frogs in Maine while I have spent the last three weeks with my daughter, Tessa, in Japan! We had dreamed of visiting the Land of the Rising Shopping Mall for many years, and the country and people delivered in every way. While birding was not the purpose of the trip, you might guess that I took advantage of every opportunity to get to know Japan’s avian wildlife—experiences I’d like to share in the next few posts, starting with the focal point of Japanese civilization, Tokyo.

**While disguised as a train station, Tokyo Station is actually a small city in itself—and the transportation hub for Birding Central HQ during our stay.**

While we planned to visit several Japanese locations, Tessa and I agreed that we wanted to spend the most time in Tokyo. Accordingly, we reserved five days there on the front end of the trip and four days to finish up our journey. Wrapping our heads around such an incredibly large and diverse city proved a challenge, but after much research I booked our first hotel near Tokyo Station. Mind you, this is no ordinary train station. Trains for hundreds of destinations come in and out of the place and the station itself is a vast, entertaining commercial complex featuring hundreds of shops and restaurants, many lined along extensive underground “streets”. The area also happened to make a pretty good headquarters to begin birding.

On our first day there, we worked in a visit to Hamarikyu Gardens in between Tsukiji Outer Market (former home of the famous tuna auctions) and Tokyo Tower. While Tessa enjoyed a park bench in the sun, I quickly snapped up six life birds including Eastern Spot-billed Duck, Common Pochard, Tufted Duck, Oriental Goldfinch, White-cheeked Starling, and Brown-eared Bulbul. I was especially taken with the bulbul—only to find that apparently it is the most commonly observed bird in Japan! Still, I didn’t let that dampen my enthusiasm for these noisy, beautiful birds.

**My first day of Japan birding, I was so excited to see my first Brown-eared Bulbul, a bird that I’d been studying assiduously. Little did I know that it’s probably the most common bird in Japan!**

Because of the 15-hour time difference with Montana, I woke at 3 a.m. the next day, and as soon as it got light I let Tessa sleep in and walked over to the Imperial Palace a few blocks away. The grounds were still closed, but I began exploring the moat around the walls and some potentially birdy parks across the street. Right away, I saw a Little Grebe, and then the discoveries grew even more exciting. I saw a small, greenish bird flitting around some bushes—another life bird, Warbling White-eye! Continuing my prowl, I discovered two more lifers—Falcated Duck and Dusky Thrush, two species I had studied intensively before the trip. They put me in a great mood before we went to watch the Yokohama BayStars defeat the Yomiuri Giants 1-0 in the Tokyo Dome that afternoon!

I began Day 2 of my Tokyo birding with a visit to the uber-dramatic Imperial Palace. The grounds were not yet open, but I found some great life birds nearby!

I should pause at this point and say that besides wanting to see Japan’s birds, I had another ulterior motive for birding. When we left Montana, my life list stood at 968 species—perilously close to 1,000. Maybe, just maybe, I thought, I can crack 1,000 while in Japan. In fact, looking over what I might see, I felt fairly confident about meeting that goal—something that spurred me to take advantage of every opportunity.

**Falcated Ducks were a new species I studied before heading to Japan. After seeing them on Day 2, I had no idea this would be the only time I’d see them on the entire trip.**

On the third full day of our adventure, Tessa and I planned to head over to Tokyo Disney to try to score tickets. We did get some and visited the Disney Sea park—but that’s another story. More important, we stopped at perhaps Tokyo’s best birding location, Kasai Rinkai Park. As we got off the train, the reason this park is birdier than others seemed evident: it is one of the few Tokyo locations with remotely natural habitat. Tessa got some of her now-favorite milk tea from a vending machine and settled in to draw on a bench while I hurried off to see what might be living there.

I had not yet met any Japanese birders, but a couple of hundred meters down the trail, a woman with binoculars and a camera saw me looking for birds and silently pointed into reeds next to a pond. “Arigato gozaimasu,” I whispered and crept toward where she was pointing. Sure enough, a half a dozen small brown birds were gleaning seeds and once again, my study paid off. They were Reed Buntings—birds I had hoped, but not expected, to see!

I left my good camera at home for this trip, opting for a lighter “travel camera” that unfortunately didn’t produce the sharp bird images I craved, but I was still delighted to get a photo of this male Reed Bunting who is obviously shouting something important at me.

Continuing down the trails I made more discoveries including Japanese Tits and Masked Buntings, both also lifers! Then, walking along the water, I spotted two suspicious shapes about one hundred meters offshore. As I grew closer, the shapes resolved into what has to be one of Earth’s most gorgeous, elegant water birds, Great Crested Grebes!

**Despite this lousy photo, you can probably get an idea of why I was so excited to see my first Great Crested Grebes!**

As I went back to meet Tessa, I was happy with what I had found, but I also knew I had missed some important species here that I would probably not get a second shot at. These included Azure-winged Magpie and any kinds of shorebirds. No matter. I felt grateful for this look at Japanese nature and optimistic for the days to come!

Sneed’s Kasai Rinkai Park eBird checklist.

An Owl a Day . . .

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Our recent post on Montana’s famous Northern Hawk Owl generated an astonishing two million views . . . or was that, er, two hundred? Either way, that’s pretty good for us, but it did put us in a quandary over how to follow up. Our answer? Look for more owls!

But first, I promised you some other winter birds. As revealed in past posts, Braden and I have discovered that one of the best way to make sure we see certain winter birds is to go to Discovery—ski area, that is. This year, on the way back from seeing the Northern Hawk Owl, we detoured through Anaconda to see what we could find. Fate seemed to shine on us as we spotted a Golden Eagle just outside of Anaconda, but when we pulled into the crowded Discovery parking lot, we didn’t see a single bird. “Hm, that’s strange,” Braden murmured. “And we forgot to bring bird seed with us,” I added.

**Though more common than some other winter birds, getting to see Steller’s Jays up close made us realize anew how spectacular these birds are.**

Prepared for disappointment, we climbed out of the minivan, cameras and binoculars slung around our shoulders, and began trekking around the parking lot. After fifty yards, Braden stopped and said, “Hear that? Clark’s Nutcracker.” We followed the harsh calls toward the back of Discovery’s first aid hut, and saw a promising red flash of something flying. Drawing closer, we hit a veritable bonanza of winter birds cashing in on a generous scattering of bird seed behind the hut. Mountain Chickadees flew out to greet us first, but we soon encountered almost every other bird we could imagine: Steller’s Jays, Clark’s Nutcrackers, Evening Grosbeaks, and our favorites, Pine Grosbeaks. Each had a different strategy for attacking the food supply and we stood mesmerized for twenty minutes watching them.

**This male Pine Grosbeak may be one of my favorite bird photos I’ve ever taken. Gotta love the pose, which shows off the bird’s “Ooh” and “Ah” factors to the max.** **Good thing I got it, too, as the bird signed with a major talent agency minutes afterward.**

“The only thing we haven’t seen,” I said, “are Canada Jays.” As we began walking back toward the car, however, Braden spotted a silhouette on top of a distant tree. He raised his binoculars for a moment, then turned to me. “Guess what it is,” he said. “Canada Jay?” I hazarded. “Yeah.” We laughed and moments later had a great photo shoot with two CAJAs that ventured closer. Leaving Discovery, we drove some side roads looking for Great Gray Owls, and the bird Braden most wanted to see before he returned to Maine for spring semester: Northern Pygmy-owl. Unfortunately, this winter the Owl Gods have decreed a limit of one owl per day for us and we saw no other Strigiformes (the bird order of owls) for the day.

Though not exactly rare, sightings of Canada Jays in Montana are unpredictable, so getting good looks at these “ski area” birds is especially appreciated. These birds apparently survive by stashing perishable food under the loose bark of trees for later retrieval. **Climate change may be eroding the conditions the birds need to survive along the southern parts of their range.**

Still, we both really wanted to see a NPOW before Braden left, so a couple days later we headed out to Maclay Flat, where we’d seen our very first NPOW in 2016. They weren’t reported too frequently, but they were being seen, and as soon as we got out of the car, we heard the distinctive periodic advertising call of a Northern Pygmy-owl. We followed the sound toward the river, and then crunched through snow down a side trail—only to discover a photographer set up with a very long camera lens. He silently pointed up into a tree and we worked around until we could see it—a small, fuzzy blob about thirty feet above us.

While owls aren’t guaranteed, Maclay Flat is definitely one the best places in Montana to see owls. We were glad this Northern Pygmy-owl came through for us on Braden’s last birding expedition before returning to college.

Braden and I grinned and gave each other a quiet Hi-Five. After taking some photos, we settled in to watch it. The photographer said he’d heard at least three NPOWs calling back and forth—which seemed odd in broad daylight, and seemingly well before breeding season. Biologists I’ve talked to, though, emphasize how territorial these birds are, so perhaps the vocalizations help maintain their territories all year long. Whatever was going on, we—like most people—can’t get enough of owls and once again felt privileged to enjoy them as part of our world. It helped soften the blow of missing Braden when I took him to the airport a couple mornings later. Just not enough.

Return of the Northern Hawk Owl

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Last week, Wise River resident Rory Macdonald reported a bird that got every Montana birder—and quite a few from other states—giddy with excitement: a Northern Hawk Owl. NHOWs are a decidedly boreal species, but venture south from Canada in a handful of places, mostly in winter. Cornell Lab dubs this owl one of the least studied birds in North America, but we do know that it preys on rodents as well as larger ground birds and hares. Many birders travel to Minnesota’s Sax-Zim Bog to see one, and every once in a while an irruption year brings more of the owls down into the U.S., but even so, NHOWs are considered one of the most difficult birds to see in the Lower 48. Here in Montana, breeding has been documented in Glacier National Park (mostly in burn areas), but breeding there has dried up in recent years and reports elsewhere are few and far between. It’s no surprise, then, that when the NHOW popped up last week, dozens of birders immediately leaped into their cars and headed to Wise River. Braden and I joined the fray.

**Our first Northern Hawk Owl, seen on Braden’s birthday in 2020. Read tha t story here.**

Wise River sits about two hours from Missoula, and after I got up early to take my daughter to driver’s ed class and walk our dog Lola, I returned home, grabbed Braden, and pointed our trusty minivan east on I-90 in the pre-dawn darkness. Fortunately, the roads were dry and we made good time, stopping at the Deer Lodge McDonald’s for our customary egg sandwich breakfasts before heading on. We arrived at Wise River just before 9:00 a.m. “Do you know exactly where the owl’s been spotted?” I asked Braden. “In two different places,” he replied. “The first is at the USFS ranger station up here on the left.”

I turned left as instructed. No owl. Braden then directed me to another location maybe a half mile to the west. We crept slowly down a snow-covered side road, carefully studying every fence post, roof, and telephone pole. I started to get the feeling that we wouldn’t find it, and Braden did, too. In our experience, it seemed that whenever we chased something really rare, we either saw it immediately—or missed it altogether.

The road turned left and we saw a pickup truck parked where the road made another left at the base of a mountain. “I hope that’s a birder,” Braden said. I did, too, but I also looked at the trees beyond. “There it is!” I exclaimed. “Oh—yes!” Braden said.

**If you’re out hunting or skiing in winter, keep an eye out for something that looks like this. You just may be looking at one of Montana’s rarest residents!**

After parking, I quickly set up our spotting scope, and we carefully walked forward. The pickup ahead of us belonged to veteran Montana birder and photographer Dan Ellison, and we enjoyed a nice, fun conversation before focusing in on the owl, which fortunately didn’t appear to be going anywhere. “He doesn’t seem to be spooky at all,” Dan told us, and sure enough, the owl posed beautifully as I took photos and Braden trained the scope on it. As other birders joined us, however, the owl suddenly flew and torpedoed toward something in the sagebrush. Watching the bird fly was a real treat. Though definitely on the chunky side, the owl “handled” more like a falcon; fast and with surprising agility. After grabbing—or missing its prey—it disappeared around a rocky outcrop.

**With a stare like that I, for one, am not inclined to get this bird upset.**

Fortunately, it soon reappeared in another tree, perhaps hungry for more “Oohs” and “Ahs” from admiring birders. Braden and I find ourselves chasing rarities less often these days, but we were definitely glad we chased this one. This was only the second Northern Hawk Owl we’d ever seen (for the story on the first, see our 2020 post “Incredible Birthday Birding”), and frankly, I never expected to see another. Not only did this one give us great, leisurely views, it was a wonderful ambassador for birds and bird conservation.

Is this hawk owl facing toward you or away?

After an hour admiring the bird, Braden and I headed back out toward I-90, detouring up to Discovery Ski Area to find a few more winter birds—but maybe we’ll write about that later!

Starting 2023 in the Dumps

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If you’ve been following our posts the past five years, you’ve probably learned that Braden and I like to kick off a new year with a big day of birding. Last year on January 1, we enjoyed an exceptional day, chalking up almost 50 species including Snowy, Short-eared, and Great Horned Owls. This year, we didn’t get out until January 3—and following a much colder snap of weather—and weren’t sure what we might find. I predicted we’d see 45 species while Braden opted for a more conservative 40. We both agreed, though, that we might be a bit optimistic.

We backed out of our driveway in total darkness and an hour later, as dawn spread over the horizon, were greeted by the sheer majesty of the snow-covered Mission Mountains, surely one of the most stunning mountain ranges in the Lower 48. Our first destination? Duck Road at Ninepipe, perhaps our most reliable spot for Short-eared Owls. Alas, these owls are not to be trusted. They had obviously received advanced intel about our arrival and skedaddled to some other part of the refuge. As we crept along in the early light, though, we spotted a flock of about sixty small birds suddenly rising up from the snow-covered grass. “Waxwings?” I asked as Braden quickly got his binoculars on them. I parked the car as he answered, “No. Guess again.” “Snow Buntings?” I asked excitedly. “Yes!”

Can you find the buntings? Even with the spotting scope, the rascals proved challenging to observe.

We watched the birds whirl around before landing again, and quickly broke out the spotting scope. Often, Snow Buntings travel with Lapland Longspurs, but as we scanned the birds feeding hungrily about a hundred yards away, we saw that this flock was pure buntings. Remarkably, these were the first Snow Buntings we’d ever seen on the west side of the mountains and it kicked off the day in fine fashion.

We left Ninepipe with only about ten species, but felt optimistic heading north, and sure enough, found a pair of gorgeous Long-eared Owls at a well-known spot near Polson, Montana. At a nearby bakery, we also happened to snag two donuts and a cinnamon roll for our Year List. Yum!

**Bird of the Day: Even concealed in this thicket, this Long-eared Owl and its companion gave us our best-ever look at these animals in the wild.**

We weren’t sure what we were going to do next, but decided to retrace last year’s route and continue on to Kalispell in hopes of finding a Snowy Owl. Last year, we had happened into an amazing group of waterfowl at the north end of the lake, but this year we ran into a much smaller group about halfway up the west side of Flathead at Dayton Bay. Here we found Trumpeter Swans and six kinds of ducks, and it was a good thing as we discovered that the north end of the lake was almost completely frozen.

After an unsuccessful search for Snowy Owls, we stopped at Panera’s for lunch and contemplated our next move. “We could go to the Kalispell dump,” Braden suggested. I cringed at the idea since we’d been yelled at a couple of years before when trying to go there to find gulls and Gray-crowned Rosy-finches. The trick was to arrive with some trash to throw away, but we’d forgotten to bring any. As we munched away on our Kitchen Sink cookies, however, we formulated a plan. After leaving Panera’s I drove behind some of the big box stores nearby and, sure enough, found some wasted cardboard sitting there. I tossed it into our trusty minivan and we were all set!

Alas, we found nothing truly extraordinary at the landfill. We did pick up Herring Gulls, which can be a bit tricky to locate in Montana, but the real surprise was a group of about ten turkeys feeding on garbage. Hm. “I didn’t know they could do that,” Braden said, but it made sense. After all, the amount of food Americans throw away could easily feed several other countries. Though we failed to find anything really rare, we had completed our covert mission and headed south again feeling like we’d done our best. Click here for our dump checklist!

Who knew that Wild Turkeys liked to forage in landfills? We didn’t get any photos of this happening since we had to get in and out of the dump quickly, but thought you’d enjoy this “non-landfill” turkey—a different subspecies than the Landfill Turkey.

As the day again drifted toward darkness, we again hit Ninepipe on our way back to Missoula, picking up American Kestrels, a Northern Harrier, and a couple of large groups of pheasants, but no Short-eared Owls. As a consolation prize, though, as soon as we got home, Braden heard Great Horned Owls hooting from our front porch and called me out to listen. We ended the day with 35 species, undershooting even Braden’s smaller target, but felt good about the day. It was still a respectable number to start the new year, and with Braden heading back to college soon, we both cherished another day getting to bird together. How can you do better than that?

FatherSonBirding

Sharing the Passion of Birds and Birding