Category Archives: Humor

Parker River NWR and the 3 Ps of Birding

If it’s one thing we at FatherSonBirding hammer over and over again, it is the 3 Ps: Planning, Persistence, and Preparation.

Okay, actually, we have never talked much about this, but it’s a catchy concept, isn’t it? The 3 Ps, in fact, came very much into play recently when, after our rather disappointing birding in Boston, Braden and I headed up the coast to a place Braden had carefully researched (P Number 1) ahead of time: the Parker River National Wildlife Refuge.

One of the gems of the New England coast, Parker River NWR turned out to be our favorite birding spot of our week-long sojourn.

I had actually never heard of Parker River before, but Braden learned about it from some online birding buddies and checked it out to see if it was “visit-worthy”. His verdict? Definitely. Not only might we collect a handful of Life Birds there, the refuge protected one of his top ABA target birds: Saltmarsh Sparrow.

Now, I have to say that when we visit a National Wildlife Refuge, I generally expect a pretty low-key, rarely visited location. Imagine my surprise when we encountered a mini traffic jam waiting to get in. In fact, it became evident that the refuge served not only to protect wildlife, but as a critical outdoor outlet for congested coastal Massachusetts. Our visit started auspiciously with a stop at Lot 1, where we got a quick fly-over of a Baltimore Oriole—the only one we would see on our trip. Crossing the highway, we encountered an even cooler surprise: the closest looks we’d ever had of Semipalmated and Least Sandpipers! This was especially useful after the ID struggles we’d had with birds in eastern Washington only weeks before, and it really helped us examine the unique properties of each.

Having both Semipalmated (left) and Least Sandpipers right in front of us really helped Braden and me visually imprint these hard-to-ID species in our brains. Note especially the darker, browner overall appearance of the Least. Its yellow legs are a giveaway, too—but only when they aren’t covered in mud!

As we moved on, though, Braden felt pessimistic about seeing Saltmarsh Sparrows. He had Planned. He had Prepared himself with knowledge. But Boston had put an “unlucky” vibe in his head. As we made our second stop along the refuge’s main road, however, he suddenly shouted, “I see them!” Indeed, not thirty feet from us, at least four or five fairly nondescript little birds bumbled about in some tall marsh grass, seemingly not knowing what they were doing. “They seem like juveniles,” Braden surmised, and having studied this species quite a bit, he would know.

Saltmarsh Sparrows used to be lumped with Nelson’s Sparrows as one species, the Sharp-tailed Sparrow. As its own species, however, the Saltmarsh Sparrow occupies a narrow range of saltmarsh habitat along the East Coast and, in fact, requires this habitat for nesting. Because of this, it is at extreme risk from higher sea levels caused by climate change, and its population has been steadily declining. This makes protecting places like Parker River NWR even more important—and made us feel especially privileged to have such a close experience with them.

Our amazing experience with Saltmarsh Sparrows proved once again that persistence just may be the most important attribute of a successful birder.

Leaving the Saltmarsh Sparrows, we continued to hit other places in the refuge and were rewarded with a host of Year Birds, and two more Life Birds: Purple Finch and Great Crested Flycatcher—our number one ABA need to that point. Which all demonstrates the third P of birding: Persistence. Sure, luck plays a role, but just getting out there again and again will eventually take luck out of the equation, something we learned for the thousandth time at Parker River.

Click for a link to our largest Parker River checklist. Crazy migrating swallows!

100-Bird Challenge Update: Shorebirds and Songbirds

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As you, our loyal readers, know, I (Sneed) have set a 100-species challenge for myself while undertaking my new temporary job driving truck for the Missoula Fire Cache (which vehemently regrets all association with me and will deny knowing me in any way if asked). As you’ll recall, 100 species may not sound like a lot, but in August—arguably one of the year’s worst birding months—and given the limitations of where I can go, it’s actually quite a lofty ambition pour moi. After all, my birding must be limited to what I can see while driving or during quick rest breaks just off my routes. As of two weeks ago (see Birding by 5-Ton Truck: a 100-Bird Quest), I had reached 59 species, but had picked off most of my easy targets and was desperately in need of large numbers of “watery” birds if I even dreamed of getting close to 100. It didn’t seem likely, but Lo! I have recently happened into some luck!

One happy circumstance is that I have been sent to several locations that take me by Warm Springs, one of Montana’s most famous birding locales. I can’t explore much of it during a quick break, but one nice pond sits just off the interstate offramp and I’ve been checking it out. The pond has yielded consistent Wilson’s Phalaropes, but also a few nice ducks such as Wood Ducks and Common Goldeneyes. On my last trip, though, I decided to forgo Warm Springs and instead try Racetrack Pond just up the road. The place often doesn’t yield a lot of birds, but at the far, northern end I pulled over and was delighted to find some suspicious wading birds—Greater Yellowlegs! Yeah! Then, a Black-necked Stilt flew in! Searching harder, I found more than twenty of this unreported species. Shorebird season has begun!

**I was totally delighted to find not only Greater Yellowlegs, but Black-necked Stilts at this seldom-birded pond near Warm Springs.**

This week, I ran a delivery to the Wenatchee (Washington) fire cache. Having scoured eBird ahead of time for possible quick bird stops, I pulled over at a place called Reardan Ponds north of Spokane. I quickly added Eared Grebes and American Coots to my 100-bird list, but was a bit underwhelmed by other birds. On a whim, I crossed the road to discover a little mudflat—and even better, some kind of shorebird in it! Unfortunately, it quickly scooted into the reeds before I could identify it. Argh!

**Patience can pay off, as this great look at a Solitary Sandpiper proved.**

I decided to give it five minutes, and to my delight a Solitary Sandpiper suddenly appeared in front of me—perhaps the best look ever I’ve had of these awesome birds. “But that’s not what I saw earlier, was it?” I asked myself. Then, I spotted not one, but two, small birds in the “peeps” category—small sandpipers of several different varieties. Peeps are very hard to ID, but these two gave me a nice long look, and even more important, some good photos. Later that night, I determined that they were Semipalmated Sandpipers! Not only a GREAT bird for my list, but a Year Bird to boot! However, still not sure of my ID, I posted a photo to the Montana Bird Discussioin Group and talked it over with Braden. Turns out, they weren’t Semis at all, but Least Sandpipers, with mud on their legs covering up their diagnostic yellow colors. I tell you, those peeps are tough, but I was still delighted with the discovery—and learned a lot to boot! UPDATE: So, this still isn’t 100% resolved. Another highly-respected MT birder makes some good points that the birds below are Semis after all! What do YOU think?

Peeps are notoriously difficult to ID, but thanks to some decent photos and help from other birders, I eventually determined that these were Least Sandpipers—or maybe not! Other experts are weighing in that my original ID of Semipalmated Sandpipers may be correct after all!

As a bonus, the next day, returning to Missoula, I added several new songbirds—a category I’d about given up on for my goal. At a little park in St. Regis, I not only got Cordilleran Flycatcher, but Red Crossbills, and a Red-eyed Vireo, a bird I hadn’t dared hope for. So where does that leave me? Well, as of today, I have reached exactly 80, count ‘em, EIGHTY species! Will I make it to 100? It’s still going to be tough. Not only am I running out of likely birds, I won’t be able to drive for the next couple of weeks, and the season may be over when I get back. Never fear, though, I will let you, our loyal readers, know of any further success! Keep on birding!

**Red-eyed Vireos have become one of our favorite songbirds, but seeing one takes some persistence and, it seems, the presence of cottonwood trees.**

Birding for Mammals

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“eBird really needs to add a checklist for mammals!” I tell Braden for the 58^th time. What has prompted my sudden outburst? A marmot scurrying off the road in front of us. The truth is that the past seven years of birding have led us to an amazing number of mammal sightings in Montana and beyond—mammals we wouldn’t otherwise have seen if not for birding. Sure, we’ve observed the usual pronghorn, elk, deer, and bison by the hundreds, but it’s those smaller, cooler mammals that I most remember.

**Actually, there are two moosii (plural for moose) here—the other behind that bush on the right.**

Let’s start with moose. Okay, they’re not smaller, but they are way cool—so cool that we remember every single moose location we’ve encountered, from the burn area around Lincoln to the meandering creek near Philipsburg. Coyotes rank similarly high in the mammal standings, whether they be trotting around one of our favorite birding hotspots, the Gravel Quarry, or galloping hell-bent-for-leather across the grasslands of Bowdoin National Wildlife Reserve like the one we saw last week.

**Is there a roadrunner somewhere around here???**

Some mammals, though, deserve special honors. For years, I’d been griping about never seeing a live porcupine—a fact that astounded me given how many dead ones I’d spotted over the decades. Shortly after covid hit, however, Braden and I were driving into the Lee Metcalf NWR when I noticed a suspicious shape balled up on a bare branch right above the road. “No, it isn’t. It couldn’t be . . . “ I gasped. It was. A live porcupine. Finally!

A few weeks later, I was hiking up a trail about a mile from our house looking for a Three-toed Woodpecker that Braden had found. Suddenly, a long white shape climbed up onto a rock not twenty feet from me. I stared and it stared back—though not with its mouth open like mine. It was a short-tailed weasel, by far the best look I’d ever seen! And as a bonus (and disadvantage for the weasel), it wore its mismatched winter coat against the snowless ground, demonstrating up-close-and-personal the threats animals face from global warming.

Our mammal list also includes numerous red foxes, bighorn sheep, beavers, hares, otters, mountain goats, bats, muskrats, whales, dolphins, monkeys, raccoons, black and grizzly bears, seals, prairie dogs—even a bobcat in Aransas NWR and our first-ever javelinas down in Texas. And that’s not even mentioning the beluga whales, polar bears, and walrus Braden has seen on nature trips with his grandparents. I admit that we still have never glimpsed a wolf, lynx, wolverine, or thylacine—but we hope to.

Which goes back to my original point: Can’t eBird add a basic mammal checklist, at least for the ABA area? In no time, they’d be collecting millions of invaluable data points for scientists and conservationists. Plus, it would be a lot of fun. I know. I know. Some of you are saying, “Use iNaturalist!” I hear you—but I’m never going to. One app is plenty for my curmudgeonly brain. So what say you Cornell? Are you game—and not just Big Game? I and millions of other birders are waiting!

Heavy Metal Suckers: Birding Therapy Day Five

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After my inspiring outing with Paul Queneau on Thursday, believe it or not I had another “man date” the next day with our awesome former Scoutmaster, Tony Higuera. Tony and I would be meeting for coffee, not birds, so to continue my week of birding therapy I decided leave early and hit another great Missoula birding location close to Starbucks—Tower Street.

Honestly, I am still getting to know Tower Street. It consists of meadow, pine, and riparian habitats, and Braden and I have birded it four or five times, but heading in there Friday morning I really didn’t know what to expect. From the parking lot, I could hear flickers, House Finches, Pine Siskins, and Red-breasted Nuthatches. As I walked along the path paralleling the giant metallic power poles, I spotted and heard more of the usual suspects. Then, an incredibly loud metallic drumming sound startled me. “Holy cow!” I gasped. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

**The source of the drum solo that startled me: a rocking Red-naped Sapsucker!**

The drumming’s staggered, uncertain pattern told me which species had made it, but where was it coming from? More important, how could it be so loud? I looked up at the immense metal power pole a few yards away. I mean, this was not one of the street lamps you see. It was HUGE—an amplifier at least twenty meters high and a meter or two in diameter. I searched all around it but couldn’t find a bird. Then, I spotted an inconspicuous, hunched down figure on a climbing stud high above me. It was a Red-naped Sapsucker—and it had just found the best drum set in woodpecker history!

I watched as the bird again drummed against the power pole, and it immediately got a response from another Red-naped that flew in to investigate. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud and wondered if the bird would permanently stake out this amplified windfall.

**Assuming this is the female, I wonder if she’s hear to consider the male’s mating proposition or just join his band—maybe on lead guitar?**

During the next hour, I saw or heard another three or four sapsuckers and nothing else matched them, but when I reached the river, I heard a strange bubbly sound. At first I didn’t know what it was, but then recalled a song that Braden has been trying to teach me the last couple of years—the “giggle call” of a White-breasted Nuthatch. I didn’t see the bird at first, but then spotted it with its partner. Even more fun, I got to see the two of them mate. While WBNUs are by no means rare, we see them on only about 20% of our forest visits, so this was a real treat—and the only ones I would see during my Birding Therapy Week. That doesn’t mean my good birding was at an end. The next morning, in fact, I would experience my best birding—and therapy—of the week . . .

**White-breasted Nuthatches are quite a bit less common than their Red-breasted brethren, but learning the “giggle call” certainly helps alert one to their presence.**

Winter Birding in Israel, Part II: Valley of the Cranes

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This week, enjoy Braden’s Part II of an Undetermined Series of Posts about our recent birding adventures in Israel and Jordan!

Over the next few days, our host family showed us around Northern Israel. We explored Akko, a seaside town with a great market full of delicious Arab and Jewish food and tall, Crusader-era walls. In Haifa, we took a drive around Mount Carmel and dined on amazing pizza and fantastic pistachio ice cream. My dad and I even spotted a Eurasian Griffon soaring over a residential area, a rare species of vulture that nested in the Carmel range.

**A lone Eurasian Spoonbill enjoys refuge in the Hula Valley Nature Reserve, once part of a vast wetlands that covered much of north-central Israel.**

After sightseeing, though, we were ready to do some serious birding. One day, my dad, one of our friends named Noam and I hopped on the train to Haifa (spotting flamingos feeding in salt ponds on the way), where we were picked up by our host’s brother Barak and father Avi. We headed north, stopping only to grab a snack at a roadside falafel & humus stand overlooking the vast Sea of Galilee and its nearby canyons and mosques. Soon, though, we left the mountains, driving past agricultural fields filled with Common Cranes. Eventually we arrived at the Hula Valley Nature Reserve, and were greeted by a large, modern visitor center. The best way to sightsee the refuge was to rent a golf cart, and that we did, setting off around a lake at Formula 1 speeds—about 10 miles per hour. We were soon greeted by hundreds of cranes, as well as various tactics that farmers used to prevent the birds from eating their crops. Every few minutes a gunshot, firework or horn would echo across the landscape (the birds were protected, don’t worry), and we even glimpsed a few people chasing the huge flocks.

**In the Hula, we got our first great look of the trip at what would prove to be one of our Top Five favorite Israeli birds—the White-throated Kingfisher.**

Before reaching the main lake, we stopped at a forested spot and were immediately astonished to see not one, but two birds that we’d been hoping to see: a White-throated Kingfisher and a Eurasian Hoopoe! The large kingfisher showed off its azure wings as it scanned the ground for rodents, while the hoopoe foraged quietly like a flicker, probably looking for ants. Spur-winged Lapwings, birds with sharp patterns of black and white on their wings, stood right by the path, unafraid, and almost every bird in the area allowed us to snap sharp, close-up photos. Before leaving we spotted a pair of European Goldfinches, chirping cheerfully despite their “sunburnt” faces.

At the lake itself bird activity increased substantially. Raptors were abundant, including Black and Black-winged Kites, Eurasian Marsh-Harriers, Common Buzzards and Eurasian Kestrels, all flying over the marshes. One kestrel even posed for us on a sign, devouring a mouse right in front of us! The species diversity of ducks was low, but those that were here, primarily shovelers, mallards and teal, foraged in the fields in huge numbers, and Eurasian Coots, Eurasian Moorhens and Little Grebes floated on the water. Shorebirds and waders also were present, and we spotted a few Glossy Ibises, Black-winged Stilts, Ruff and a single Eurasian Spoonbill by the shoreline. Gray Herons, Great, Cattle and Little Egrets and Great and Pygmy Cormorants topped every bare branch and island in the area.

**As this Eurasian Kestrel can attest to, there’s nothing like a good stretch after tearing the head off a mouse!**

At a lookout a helpful naturalist pointed out several harder-to-see species to us, including Black-tailed Godwits and Northern Lapwings hiding in the distance among the huge numbers of cranes. I snapped photos of several raptors that flew by, later identifying them as eagles! The two we spotted were Booted and Greater Spotted, just a small percentage of the eagle species the Old World supported. Pied Avocets floated on the waves of the pond like ducks.

Sing along with us: “One of these things is not like the other. One of these things is not the same. One of these things—” Oh, you get the idea. It’s hard to blend in with 30,000 Common Cranes!

We completed our loop, tracking down cranes for better photos and spotting a Common Kingfisher skulking in the brush back at the visitor center, the only one we’d see for the rest of the trip! This little refuge, surrounded by farmland, was all that remained of the huge wetlands that had once covered much of this area and supported hippos, ostriches and cheetahs. While much of the diversity of the past had disappeared, Hula still provides habitat for thousands of birds during all seasons and efficiently allows the public to experience them. The day had not disappointed.

All photos and text on FatherSonBirding.com are strictly protected under U.S. copyright law. To request permission to use, contact Sneed at sbcollardiii+2@gmail.com.