Category Archives: Listing

College Search Birding in California

If you’ve been following FatherSonBirding for any length of time, you know two things about us: we love to travel and we love to bird. Sometimes we plan dedicated birding trips, but whenever possible, we like to go easy on our carbon footprints and fold birding into travel that we were going to do anyway. In the past year, for instance, I’ve been able to bird in Japan and Spain while taking family vacation trips I’d been planning for years. Often, I get to bird while taking business trips to, say, Texas or Missouri. Right now, Braden is birding his butt off while doing a semester of study abroad in Costa Rica. As the parent of two young people, another potential “double-dipping” birding opportunity arose when my children began thinking about college. After all, it’s a good idea to visit a college you might want to attend, right? Unfortunately, covid kai-boshed that possibility with Braden—though we did get to bird in New England when I took him back east to start his college career at the University of Maine. With my second child, Tessa, I’ve been more fortunate. Last week she and I took a lightning trip out to California to visit a couple of potential schools she is considering. Even better, we went to places I’d never gotten to bird.

Cal State Chico put on a show for us in its best spring colors. Not surprisingly, I saw some great birds there, too, including Red-shouldered Hawks, California Scrub-Jays, and Acorn Woodpeckers—right on campus!

After rising at 3:30 a.m., Tessa and I landed in Sacramento at the outrageously convenient hour of 9:00 a.m. It was a glorious, sunny California morning and we made a beeline to U.C. Davis, where I’d spent my own freshman year before transferring to U.C. Berkeley to finish out my college years. Davis had changed a lot, but I still managed to find my way around—though I did drive our rental car down a dedicated bike path, much to the consternation of dozens of student bicyclists trying to get to class! After a quick tour around campus, we found a parking spot downtown and decided to have lunch at Crepeville and while waiting in line, I finally had a chance to start looking around for birds. One of the huge regrets of my life is that I’d left California before I’d become a birder because, with the possible exceptions of Texas and Alaska, there is no better state in the union to bird. To wit, within yards of Crepeville, I spotted Yellow-rumped Warblers, a Black Phoebe, and a Western Bluebird—right in downtown Davis! But my college search birding had just begun!

**Just the name phoebe can’t help but melt a birder’s heart, but these Black Phoebes truly are handsome birds.**

After a quick tour of Davis we headed north to our primary college destination, Cal State Chico, which boasts a musical theatre program of particular interest to Tessa. We arrived in Chico pretty pooped from our already extensive exertions and checked into our hotel for a rest. The prospect of some deeper California birding, however, did not let me tarry long, and after twenty minutes I left Tessa to recharge while I headed to the dubiously named Hooker Oak Park.

Any trip to California is a chance to see some of California’s specialty birds—including Yellow-billed Magpies, which only live in selected areas of central California. On Braden’s instruction, one morning I got up early to drive to Durham High School, and sure enough, found me a pair!

To be honest, the park looked a little over-developed and ragged, and I wondered whether I should move to some healthier-looking oak groves just down the road. Then I reminded myself that this was California and birds were likely to be anywhere. Almost immediately, this was confirmed when I sighted one of the targets of my trip, an Oak Titmouse singing in a sycamore tree.

**What can I say? Oak Titmice are just plain adorable.**

I set out to explore further and birds popped out from left and right—including most of the birds I had hoped to see. I got super excited to see an Acorn Woodpecker—only to discover that they were everywhere in this park. Not long after, I encountered a Nuttall’s Woodpecker, the other woodpecker at the top of my list.

You can’t beat an Acorn Woodpecker on one of its acorn storage trees! With their black masks, these cooperative birds look like banditos, and the way they aggressively mob other species, they apparently can act that way, too.

Exploring further, I encountered California and Spotted Towhees, Golden and White-crowned Sparrows, and White-breasted Nuthatches.

With my lousy hearing and dearth of knowledge about California bird calls, Merlin’s Sound ID feature proved especially useful and helped me find several species, including California Quail. My biggest surprise of the outing were two Hermit Thrushes, which hadn’t been on my radar at all but do winter in the Central Valley.

One disappointment was that I didn’t hear or see any Red-shouldered Hawks, a particularly abundant species in California. As I was about to climb back into my rental car, however, I heard a familiar “Kee-a, kee-a, kee-a, kee-a!” and spotted a large reddish bird flying straight toward me. As it passed overhead and landed on a branch, I saw that it held a tasty mammalian morsel in its talons. Almost immediately, another Red-shouldered Hawk plowed in and displaced the first one, stealing its meal. I grinned. Not only did I get to see a RSHA, I got to see hawk behavior, too!

**This Red-shouldered Hawk drove another RSHA off its prey, which it now holds firmly in its grasp.**

The next two days, Tessa and I visited with some of my most cherished friends, who had happened to move to Chico decades before, and, oh yeah, we took a great tour of the Chico campus. The campus, I gotta say, mightily impressed both Tessa and me. Chico is part of the WUE college exchange program, meaning that if any of you Montana parents are also contemplating schools, you can get big discounts on out-of-state tuition. But back to the birds, I continued to see awesome birds everywhere we went. I did want to get in a visit to another bona fide natural area, though, so the day of our campus tours, I woke early and drove out to Bidwell-Sacramento River State Park, about fifteen minutes out of town.

**In the parking lot of Bidwell-Sacramento River State Park, I got my best looks ever at another California specialty, Nuttall’s Woodpecker.**

I arrived before dawn—actually a bit early for the birds—but a group of 55 Wild Turkeys greeted me, so I went ahead and set off on dew-soaked trails paralleling the river. I had set a goal of 50 bird species for this California trip and began the day at about 45—but quickly blew past that. Almost immediately, I saw Wood Ducks hanging out in the trees and spotted two pairs of kingfishers bickering over the river. As the day warmed, more species kept appearing: a Great Egret and Great Blue Herons, tons of flickers and Tree Swallows, Ruby-crowned Kinglets and White-breasted Nuthatches, a pair of Turkey Vultures trying to get their engines started.

**It’s easy to forget that Wood Ducks nest in trees—something I was quickly reminded of at Bidwell-Sacramento River State Park!**

After an hour, I began making my way back to the parking lot and spotted a group of Dark-eyed Juncos and White-crowned Sparrows ahead. Then, I saw something that really got me going: a small, brownish bird with short, vertical lines at the top of its breast and a yellowish wash. Lincoln’s Sparrow! And not one, but two of them! I managed only lousy photos, but was thrilled to see one of Braden’s and my favorite Montana birds hanging out in its winter habitat—and just before migration. Is it possible I will see these exact same birds in Montana in a few short weeks???

**Yay! Lincoln’s Sparrow—in its winter habitat. This, btw, was one of only two species I added to my California life list, which now stands at 226 species.** **The other was Common Merganser.**

That evening, after our tour and our drive back to Sacramento, I rallied myself for one more birding mission. After checking into our hotel in Woodland, I drove about five miles to where I-5 crosses the Sacramento River. I got off on some small side roads and began scouring fields and places with standing water. I found a few Northern Shovelers and a trio of Black-necked Stilts, but not what I was looking for. Then, I parked and began walking on a path that led back toward the interstate. Almost immediately, I saw a group of about 200 geese in a verdant field. I raised my binoculars and grinned. Yes! Greater White-fronted Geese! The last species I had really hoped to see on the trip. I stood and watched them for about ten minutes, as other geese flew over, circled around, and joined the throng. It was a perfect ending for what turned out to be a perfect college—and birding—trip.

California Trip Report: https://ebird.org/tripreport/214105

**My last target bird of the trip, Greater White-fronted Geese, captured just as the sun was setting on Sacramento.**

Birding Barcelona, Part 2: In Search of the Greater Flamingo

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Braden and I write FatherSonBirding in the hopes of sharing the wonders of birds and birding, and the urgency to protect them. We do not accept advertising or donations, but if you’d like to support our work, please consider buying *NEW* copies of some of Sneed’s books—First-Time Japan, for instance, or my recent Orbis Pictus Award winner, Border Crossings. We appreciate your interest and hope you will keep reading!

When birding big cities I’ve discovered that it often requires a bit of extra effort to reach even a highly modified natural area. That proved true last year when my daughter and I visited Japan (see “Birding Japan: Kanazawa”), and it once again proved to be the case when my wife and I recently visited Barcelona. After birding city parks and tourist sites all week, I had barely breached 30 bird species total—far short of my goal of 50 or 60 species (see “Birding Barcelona, Part 1: The Urban Core”). I had a plan to help rectify the situation—but it was going to take that extra bit of effort to realize it.

On the last full day of our trip, I rose early, wolfed down some yoghurt, and hailed a cab in front of our hotel. In my mediocre Spanish, I explained to Isabella, my driver, where I wanted to go and even showed her the place on Google Maps. She knew about the area and had even been there, so we set out toward the airport in a light drizzle.

When visiting Barcelona, the best chance for a birder to enjoy some natural habitat—and an abundance of birds—is to take a taxi out to the Espais Naturals del Delta del Llobregat near the Barcelona Airport.

My destination was the “Espais Naturals del Delta del Llobregat,” which I’ll just call “Llobregat” for simplicity. Llobregat was a wetland divided into two parts, one on either side of the Barcelona airport, and the reason it existed at all was no doubt due to the fact that you can’t build huge buildings where giant aircraft can run into them. I thank the travel gods for that because these wetlands were the only orange-colored (high species count) hotspots anywhere near the city of Barcelona.

I asked Isabella to drop me off at the area on the far (western) side of the airport, and twenty minutes later found myself standing utterly alone on a road that appeared to lead into the natural area. Turns out, Isabella could have driven me another mile closer to the main action, but that error turned out to be a good thing. As I walked down the road, I began hearing all kinds of bird vocalizations and soon Merlin’s Sound ID picked up a new lifer for me, Cetti’s Warbler, calling from the thick reeds on both sides of the road. Sound ID also picked up Green Sandpiper, which got me really excited because shorebirds were at the top of my list to see on this, my sole real birding outing, of the trip. As I walked, I also saw what would be my only raptors of the trip—three Western Marsh-Harriers—and some high-flying swallow-type birds that turned out to be Eurasian Crag-Martins. I got occasional glimpses at a canal to my left, but saw only Mallards, a pair of Gadwalls, and a Gray Heron in it.

Half an hour later, I arrived at Llobregat’s official entrance and was relieved to see a series of established trails that led to various bird blinds around the reserve. As I followed the first trail, Common Chiffchaffs, Black Redstarts, European Robins, European Serins, and White Wagtails hopped and fluttered around me, but my excitement didn’t spike until I entered the first birding blind.

**I had worried that I might miss Greater Flamingos in Spain, but a couple of dozen greeted me at Llobregat. Note how pale they are. Evidently, they are not getting enough crustaceans in their diets!**

It took me about five seconds to locate the birds I most wanted to see—Greater Flamingos. But they just formed the tasty appetizer to the huge variety of waterfowl before me. This included many familiar ducks familiar from back home: Northern Shovelers, Gadwalls, Mallards, and the Eurasian variety of Green-winged Teal (which may eventually get split into a new species).

I just love the unique looks of Eurasia’s Green-winged Teals, which have a distinctively different appearance than our North American versions. I hope the taxonomic splitters pounce on them and declare them a distinct species.

The ducks that really got me going, though, were new for my life list: Common Shelducks and a pair of Red-crested Pochards that was doing its best to avoid eye contact on a distant island! I had hoped to see both of these, but had tempered my expectations. No worries—there they were, and in company of a lone Eurasian Wigeon.

Ka-ching! **Life Bird #1007!** **Common Shelduck in the company of a pretty fetching Mallard!**

As I sat enjoying the duck show, I also noted Eurasian Coots and Moorhens, along with a delightful pair of Little Grebes, all of which I had seen in Japan almost a year earlier. As I scanned the pond, I also saw something quickly dive into the reeds at the edge of the pond. I strongly suspect that this was a Water Rail, but reacted just a moment too slow to get my binoculars on it.

If you look at this photo carefully, you will see a number of charismatic Spanish species: Graylag Goose, Eurasian Wigeon, and my lifer Red-crested Pochards. The latter two are reported infrequently this time of year.

After about thirty minutes, I continued onto another viewing area. On the way, I passed a plywood wall with a few viewing windows cut into it and happened to take a quick peek. A largish purplish bird stuck out and my first thought was “Eurasian Moorhen.” Then, I did a double-take. “Hold on. Moorhens aren’t that blue—nor do they have bright red bills and legs!” The bird before me was one I had been studying on eBird quizzes, but darned if I could remember the name of it. Scrolling through eBird, I quickly found it: Western Swamphen! Even better, it had two adorable fuzzy black chicks with it!

I had not expected to see such a bird in my wildest dreams and it didn’t stay visible for long—just long enough for me to take a couple of modest photos—before disappearing into the reeds. And that, apparently, is typical for this bird, a species that rarely makes an appearance even where it might be fairly common. It immediately leaped to the top of my Trip Bird list, where it would remain for the rest of our vacation and beyond.

**Earning Bird of the Trip honors, this rare sighting of a Western Swamphen put a lasting grin on my face. That black “shadow” to its left is actually one of two chicks accompanying it.**

After more bird blind fun, I walked out to the beach in the hopes of seeing shorebirds. No dice. In fact, I didn’t see a single shorebird my entire morning, one of the trip’s big disappointments. I asked the interpreter about it and he confirmed that there hadn’t been many shorebirds around the entire year. Alas, I later discovered that the other section of the wetlands, on the east side of the airport, had been getting some. Nonetheless, I sat down on a jetty, breathed in the salt air of the Mediterranean, and enjoyed some bread and cheese while watching the giant jets taking off to almost every continent in the world. Then, I began making my way back down the long access road, happy with the day despite the shorebird miss.

My morning at Llobregat nabbed me 33 species—as many as I’d seen in the previous five days in Barcelona. It pushed my world life list to 1011 species. It also pushed my trip list to 49 species—one short of my goal of 50 species. “Shoot,” I thought, riding a taxi back downtown. “Where can I go near our hotel to pick up one more species?” I hadn’t a clue, and quietly resigned myself to this epic failure that would mar my reputation and confidence the rest of my life and cast shame upon my friends and family.

**More Flamingo fun. These birds sat atop my list of birds I wanted to see in Barcelona and at Llobregat, they did not disappoint.**

That evening, Amy—who had spent the day shopping and visiting the Picasso Museum—and I decided to take a walk before our last Barcelona supper. She hadn’t yet visited Parc de la Ciutadella (see my previous post “Birding Barcelona, Part 1: The Urban Core”), so we strolled over there. We reached the pond where they rented rowboats and decided to go for it. I handed over six Euros and we climbed in, joining a huge assortment of merry locals and tourists. Black-headed and Yellow-legged Gulls, Graylag Geese, Gray Herons, and Mallards surrounded us. Monk and Rose-ringed Parakeets squawked overhead. I smiled. This was a perfect way to wrap up the trip.

Then, I spotted a small bird sally out from the edge of the pond and return to land on a rock. From similar sightings in Taiwan, Israel, and Japan, I knew immediately what it was. “Gray Wagtail!” I exclaimed! Just as in Japan, it was the only GRWA I had seen, and it pushed my trip list to 50 species.

I swear, you can’t make this guano up.

**Ciutadella’s popular rowing pond—and site of the trip’s sole Gray Wagtail.**

Birding Barcelona, Part 1: The Urban Core

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Since Braden and I started FatherSonBirding in 2018, I’ve posted a lot about birding in the company of Braden (of course) and my daughter, Tessa. You parents, though, may recognize that with growing kids at home it can be difficult to get one-on-one time with your actual spouse. Last week, Amy and I began to rectify this situation with our first couples vacation in seven years. Our destination was a place we had dreamed of visiting for more than a decade—Barcelona, Spain.

**It’s no accident that I booked a hotel near what may be Barcelona’s largest urban parks.**

I admit that Barcelona did not draw me for its birding opportunities. The promise of stunning architecture, great tapas, and practicing my Spanish, though, outweighed any potential avian shortcomings. Nonetheless, it will come as no surprise that I felt determined to scour this remarkable European city for every bird possible. I set a goal of 50 or 60 species for the week. Even more intriguing, my life list stood at 999 species. “Which bird will put me over the top?” I wondered.

I booked us in the Park Hotel, an awesome little place in the historic El Born neighborhood near the Barceloneta Metro Station, the Estacio de Franca train station, the waterfront, and hundreds of uber cool restaurants and shops. I did not admit to Amy that I also booked the place because it sat only a block from one of the city’s largest urban parks, Parc de la Ciutadella. As soon as our plane landed, we bought 5-day Metro passes and rode the subway into town. Emerging from Barceloneta Station, I immediately saw both Rose-ringed and Monk Parakeets noisily flying overhead—and then I spotted a black bird atop a light post. I recognized it right away as my bird #1,000—a Spotless Starling!

Bird 1000! A Spotless Starling! Under FatherSonBirding Rules of Full Disclosure, I am still waiting for someone to tell me that this is actually a European Starling. Apparently, they sometimes also take on this “all black” appearance. If that does turn out to be the case, Yellow-legged Gull will assume Bird #1000 honors!

It wasn’t until the next morning, though, that I seriously plunged into Barcelona birding by rising early and heading over to Ciutadella. It was a glorious, crisp morning and even before I reached the park gates, I noted a procession of parakeets, gulls, magpies, and Western Cattle Egrets flying toward the park. Like many urban parks, Ciutadella has a rather down-trodden, worked-over feel to it. Leaves have been obsessively raked, precluding the development of healthy soil layers (and the insect prey they could produce), and very little mid-sized vegetation exists. Still, I set out optimistically and almost immediately encountered Great Tits, a Eurasian Blue Tit, a European Robin, and my lifer European Serin.

Though I never got a great photo of one, Merlin’s Sound ID picked up European Serins in multiple places I birded. I worried I wouldn’t be able to recognize these as a number of yellowish, stripy, finchy birds live in Catalonia.

Wandering haphazardly, I quickly discovered that the park was the Monk Parakeet capital of Barcelona. Not only did this introduced South American species seem to love roosting and nesting in the palms, many people actually enjoyed feeding them, even early in the morning. This included several people who had pitched their tents in the park and evidently lived there (the tents had been cleared out by the end of the week—perhaps in preparation for a giant convention that was about to descend on the city).

**Aaaaaaw! Monk Parakeets in love. Or at least sharing food. Or perhaps trying to peck each other’s eyes out.**

I kept picking up birds, though, including Common Chiffchaffs, Eurasian Blackbirds, Eurasian Magpies, Rose-ringed Parakeets and then, an especially exciting discovery—my lifer Sardinian Warblers!

Before the trip, I spent a lot of time learning the differences between Sardinian Warblers (shown here) and Eurasian Blackcaps. Once in the field, it was easy to tell them apart—as long as I managed to get a decent look!

What I hadn’t seen so far were any water features, but crossing under a giant gold-plated monument (the Monòlit a la festa de l’arbre de 1899), I encountered a couple of reflecting ponds. In them, I saw a “must-see” species I had somehow never observed in all of my travels—Graylag Goose! Along with the geese, I got good looks at both Black-headed and much beefier Yellow-legged Gulls. I kept an eye out for Lesser Black-backed Gulls, but could never confirm one the entire week.

https://ebird.org/checklist/S161951923

**I scored my lifer Graylag Geese right down the block from our hotel, in Ciutadella park. Note the Black-headed Gulls frolicking in the background.**

I ended my session with a surprisingly robust 23 species, but my week of birding Barcelona had just begun. During the next few days, I kept my travel binoculars slung around my neck, birding tourist-jammed city streets as well as any greenery I could find. I spotted my only Eurasian Jackdaw in a tree on the well-known avenue, Passeig de Gracia. I was delighted to discover a flock of 20 adorable introduced (and lifer) Common Waxbills in the Placa de Gaudi, right across the street from the modern wonder, Sagrada Familia. (This cathedral, designed by the brilliant Catalan architect Antoni Gaudí, is reason enough to visit Barcelona!) I finally saw the trip’s first European Greenfinches and Long-tailed Tits in the marvellous Parc Güell—one of the city’s better urban birding places and another great place to see Gaudí’s handiwork. My best urban birding opportunity, though, still lay ahead.

**Though Common Waxbills are species introduced from Africa, I was thoroughly enchanted by these little “red bandits” when I encountered them across from Sagrada Familia (phone photo).**

On our fourth day in Barcelona, we caught the H14 bus to the Parel-lel Metro station, but instead of boarding the Metro, we rode the funicular up the hill to Montjuïc, a prominent mini-mountain overlooking the city’s southern area. Only a couple of hundred meters away from the exit stood one of our top cultural destinations, Fundació Juan Miró, aka the Miró museum. A bit less famous than Picasso, Miró was Picasso’s contemporary, and even better, we caught a joint exhibit featuring the work of both men. After a thoroughly enjoyable hour or two there—and excellent quiche in their café—we walked up the hill heading for an even more exciting destination. Along the way—and with the help of Merlin’s Sound ID—I located my lifer Eurasian Blackcap.

One of the most common birds I encountered in Spain, the Common Chiffchaff always brought a smile to my face, both for its name and its lively behavior. That said, I also always doubted my ID of this bird since they come in several shades of yellow and brown.

We emerged onto a road running along the top of Montjuïc and were making our way gradually downhill toward the Olympic stadium, when I spotted what looked like a prairie dog in a small field below and to our right. I had other suspicions, however, and raised my binoculars to find those suspicions confirmed: a Eurasian Hoopoe! I hadn’t seen one since Israel, but they are apparently a lot less common in Spain, and I was delighted to see its Picasso-esque crest, long curved bill, and graphic brown, white, and black color pattern. I was glad to show it to Amy, too, since we had first seen one together in Ethiopia almost 20 years before!

**The first Black Redstart I saw in Spain was working over balcony planters in a densely packed neighborhood of apartment buildings in Barceloneta—a clue to how adaptable this handsome species is.**

Another couple of hundred meters brought us to Jardí Bòtanic de Barcelona, and my pulse accelerated as we paid our 3-Euro entry fees and entered. Finally, I would get to bird a somewhat natural area! The only question was, what I would find?

The visit got off to a great start with sightings of Black Redstarts, European Robins, and another blackcap. Making our way around to a little pond, the excitement accelerated with half a dozen flycatching Common Chiffchaffs, another Black Redstart, and a pair of White-Wagtails—the fourth country I’ve now seen this bird in.

**Though I’d seen European Robins in Amsterdam, Israel, and Japan, this is the first one that ever fully cooperated with my camera. Love it!**

As we headed up to the higher parts of the gardens, a series of unfamiliar high notes pierced the air. I looked around and detected movement on a nearby tree trunk. It belonged to none other than a pair of Short-toed Treecreepers, a bird stunningly analogous to our Brown Creepers, and a species I never thought I’d see in Spain. Awesome!!!!

**A series of high sharp notes alerted me to the presence of several Short-toed Treecreepers, a species I had only dared hope to see in Spain.**

The treecreepers weren’t the last birds we saw in the gardens, but they were probably the coolest. Our 80-minute visit plus the Miró museum marked this as our most fun day so far—but I had one more major Barcelona birding adventure scheduled for the last day of the trip. Find out what it was by reading my next post. Same bird time. Same bird channel.

https://ebird.org/checklist/S162445992

Lost in Owls

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As 2023 winds down, we hope you enjoy our penultimate post on one of everyone’s favorite subjects. Before that, we have some great news to share. Sneed’s picture book Border Crossings has received NCTE’s prestigious Orbis Pictus Award for nonfiction! This is one of the literary world’s top children’s book awards and was inspired by, you guessed it, Braden’s and Sneed’s birding adventures along the US Mexico border. Learn more and order by clicking here!

**Border Crossings—winner of the 2024 Orbis Pictus Award!**

Owls consistently rank among the favorite bird groups of birders, and Braden and I are no exceptions. We’ve had a pretty good year for owls in 2023. It got off to a roaring start with wonderful encounters with Long-eared Owls, Northern Pygmy-Owls, and Saw-whet Owls the first days of the year, and continued with the now-famous Northern Hawk-Owl in Wise River. Unfortunately, after that, our owl experiences stalled. We failed to see both Great Gray Owls and Snowy Owls last winter, nor even a Barred Owl. We also missed both Western and Eastern Screech Owls, though did pick up Burrowing Owls near Great Falls. When Braden got home from college a few days ago, however, we decided we would make one last effort to see perhaps our biggest miss of the year: Short-eared Owl.

**Short-eared Owls are one of our favorite Montana birds—but so far in 2023, they had totally skunked us!**

We had looked for Short-eareds multiple times in 2023, both at Ninepipe National Wildlife Refuge, and on our forays into eastern Montana. In fact, I had never gone to eastern Montana without seeing one of these spectacular creatures, but this year? Zip. Ditto at Ninepipe, where we can almost always count on at least one SEOW during the year. What was going on? Joni Mitchell’s prophetic lines haunted me:

“I’ve looked at owls from both sides now

From up and down, and still somehow

It’s owl illusions I recall

I guess I don’t know owls at all.”

Why does Joni always have to be so darned depressing? Nonetheless, when our neighbor Tim told me he’d been encountering gobs of Short-eared Owls while out hunting in the Mission Valley, Braden and I were determined to give SEOWs one last try. We parked at Tim’s spot amidst a winter wonderland of frosted fields created by low fog and freezing temperatures that have been blanketing the area for the past couple of weeks. A sign invited pedestrians into the property so unlike our other searches for SEOWs, which relied on driving rural roads for miles and miles, we zipped up our jackets, slung our optics over our shoulders, and followed a frozen dirt path out into a field.

Almost immediately, rodents (voles?) scurried in front of us while Northern Harriers circled the perimeter.

“There have got to be owls here,” I said. “Look at all this prey!”

Well, not so fast. We kept walking, expecting an owl to fly up at any moment, but no dice. We heard Canada Geese, saw magpies and a hawk or two, but no owl. As the road curved left, I decided to crunch my way over to a big group of cattails. As I paused to study it, I suddenly heard Braden shout, and spun around to see a Short-eared Owl quickly flying away!

**More often than not, we observe the rear end of a SEOW, and this one was no exception!**

For those who haven’t seen these creatures, they truly are marvels of engineering. While perched, they appear only medium-sized. Once they take off, they unfurl impossibly long, flexible wings that leave an observer breathless. Like Northern Harriers, which also hunt low over fields and marshes, listening for prey, Short-eared Owls hunt by both sight and sound, moving low and slow, their long wings giving them plenty of lift with minimal flapping. We watched, elated as this one flew in a lazy arc away from us—but it was so much fun to be out alone in the middle of this giant field that we decided to keep walking.

When a fence blocked our way, we turned right and followed an embankment along an irrigation ditch. Braden heard Marsh Wrens, and then we encountered another fence. I pride myself on having good directional sense, so I said, “Let’s head this way back toward the road.”

One advantage to the frozen ground is we could walk across normally wet places without plunging into cold water. We walked in parallel, forty or fifty feet apart, and at one point I saw Braden pause to study another group of cattails. He motioned me over, and I was stunned to see a white face with beady eyes pop out to look at me. A weasel! The mammal was in full winter “plumage,” and it was only the second one we’d ever seen in Montana, so it quickly grabbed “Bird of the Day” honors!

**This Short-tailed Weasel (we think) grabbed Bird of the Day honors as we searched for Short-eared Owls.**

But our owling, it turns out, had just begun. As we headed back toward our car, Short-eared Owls started popping up like jack-in-the-boxes! We tried to spot them on the ground so we could steer around them, but they were so well hidden in the grass and cattails that we never saw one until it took flight. Then we just stood in awe, watching it navigate on their incredible wings until they settled a couple of hundred meters away. One owl even had a little tête-à-tête with a Northern Harrier, exchanging some words neither Braden nor I could make out.

**I had the ISO of my camera cranked too high, so my owl shots are all grainy, but this photo still captures the magnificence of SEOWs.**

One thing we wondered was why the birds weren’t actively hunting. Prey scurried everywhere, and the cold air shouldn’t have been a problem for such masterful fliers. In fact, Braden and I have seen them active in all seasons and at all times of day, though they do tend to be crepuscular—most active at dawn and dusk—especially in winter. Beyond this, I am guessing that the birds were so stuffed with voles that they could afford to chill out—literally. (But see my earlier comments on my understanding of owls re: Joni Mitchell.)

After observing at least half a dozen of these glorious creatures, we finally made it back to the road. Alarmingly, our minivan had disappeared!

“Geez, where is it?” I asked. “Did someone tow it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “This road is paved. Didn’t we park on a dirt road?”

“Oh, yeah,” Braden confirmed.

So much for my infallible sense of direction! As we wandered across fields, we had veered at least 90-degrees off course and ended up in a totally different place than we’d intended. Fortunately, Braden was able to use our eBird track to quickly figure out where our car was actually located. After a short hike down the paved road, and a turn right, we reunited with our faithful birding-mobile.

Seeing one of our favorite birds was a great way to wrap up our Montana birding adventures for the year and made us feel good knowing that great habitat and plenty of food still abounded for this wonderful species. The weasel (probably a Short-tailed Weasel) was also a great bonus. The Short-eared Owl pushed my Montana Year Bird list to 252 species, my second highest total ever. That number would tick over to 253 species an hour later when Braden and I saw a Northern Shrike up near Polson. Braden’s 2023 Montana total reached 198—pretty darned good considering he spent only five or six weeks in the state. None of us can predict the future, but if we all keep getting out there, we can guarantee that 2024 will bring plenty more birding adventures. What are we all waiting for?

**Braden and I hope that 2024 brings you owls—and lots of other cool birds!**

“Zoning Out” on Zonotrichia Sparrows

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You may have noticed that many of my recent posts have centered on a) sparrows and b) nemesis birds. This post will combine those topics in a way that I hope will elicit six-figure offers for film rights along with invitations to various network morning shows. Strap in, because it promises to be a thrilling ride. Or mildly entertaining. Or at least more interesting than scrubbing the bathroom sink. Here goes.

**Do you see the Golden-crowned Sparrow in this roadside pullout? I didn’t either.**

In my recent pursuits of nemesis birds (see From One Nemesis Bird to Another and Gambling on a Grouse-fecta), one bird that I have sorely neglected is the Golden-crowned Sparrow. In fact, it may have been the most common species still missing from my Montana life list. Braden and I first beheld one of these gorgeous birds at the Moonglow Dairy outside of Monterey, California while we were pursuing our first Big Year back in 2016. Since then, we’ve seen them several times in California and Oregon—which is probably why they never became a top priority for us in Montana. Nonetheless, stray GCSPs show up in Montana often enough that they should have been beeping more loudly on our radars. Last week, when Braydon Luikart (see Gambling on a Grouse-fecta) notified me that a Golden-crowned had been spotted in Missoula, well, I guess I was finally alert enough to seize the opportunity. I threw Lola into our trusty minivan and headed out to LaValle Creek Road near the airport.

As I turned onto the muddy track, it was clear that word had gotten out when I began passing a veritable Who’s Who of Missoula birding. These included avian biologist William Blake (formerly of MPG Ranch, now with the American Bird Conservancy), and veteran birders Adam Mitchell, Thomas Kallmeyer, and Di Litz. William and Adam gave me directions to the sparrow spot, and a mile or so later, I pulled over onto a muck-filled turnout.

“It should be right there,” William had told me, but when I climbed out of the car with my binoculars and camera, I didn’t see a thing. Figures, I thought. I’m going to be the only birder in Missoula who doesn’t see this bird.

I studied the surrounding bushes and road without spotting anything, then took a couple of steps forward. Suddenly, I saw movement at my feet. The Golden-crowned! It was so perfectly camouflaged with the muddy ground that my eyes scanned over it two or three times without detecting it! Talk about your easy nemesis birds! I had a nice long visit with this fellow, admiring its subtle yellow lores and crown, boldly striped back, and finely striped breast. Its gray bill indicated it was a “1^st winter bird,” fledged this past summer. Whoo-Hoo! Montana Lifer #303!

**Golden-crowned Sparrows breed in western Canada and Alaska, but a few clip Montana every year on their way to their wintering grounds along the West Coast.**

William and Adam had told me they’d seen Pine Grosbeaks and Gray-crowned Rosy-finches further up the road, so I continued on to a place locally known as “the corral.” There, I found UM grad student Tim Forrester also looking for the birds. Tim’s been all over the U.S. and many places abroad studying birds, and we had a nice conversation while waiting for other birds to show up. Alas, I guess I’d hit my limit for great birds for the day—though I did see a nice pair of American Tree Sparrows on the drive out.

As I always do after a great find, I called Braden to share the news. After congratulating me, he asked, “You know what this means, don’t you?” “Uh, no.”

“It means,” he said, “that you’ve seen all four of Montana’s Zonotrichia sparrow species!” He recounted the four species for me, and I realized that they were four of my favorite sparrows: White-crowned, White-throated, Harris’s, and now Golden-crowned. What’s more, I’d seen all but Harris’s Sparrow this year.

**Braden and I find White-throated Sparrows almost every fall in Missoula—but we have to work hard for them.**

“But what exactly are Zonotrichia sparrows?” you may be asking. Good question!

Birds in the genus Zonotrichia are among our largest sparrows. They all have heavily-streaked backs and are ground-feeders, snagging seeds, grain, insects, and spiders. At first, their bold head markings look quite different from each other, but if you compare the four species side-by-side, you will see that they bear strong similarities. White-crowned Sparrows (see Welcoming White-crowned Sparrows—with Observer Bias) and White-throated Sparrows (see March Madness Birding in Missouri) have the widest distributions and are probably the “Zones” that people are most familiar with. In Montana, Harris’s probably have the greatest cool factor. Braden and I have seen them only once together (see A Quest for Snowy Owls), and I saw them once more a couple of years ago. No two ways about it, though, adding Golden-crowned to my Montana list made my day.

**Only the second Harris’s Sparrow I’d ever found—while looking for loons with Amy at Seeley Lake. And no, we didn’t find the loons!**

I’m not quite finished zoning out, however. So far, I’ve mentioned four species of Zonotrichia, but there’s a fifth, and it’s one almost anyone visiting Latin America will recognize: the Rufous-collared Sparrow. Braden and I first encountered these handsome critters during our 2017 family trip to Ecuador and Peru, though I’m sure I saw them in Costa Rica before I became a birder. In fact, this is probably the most common bird we saw in urban and suburban settings—so common, that we soon began taking them for granted. I hereby pledge not to ever do that again. Meanwhile, wherever you are, I invite you to zone out for yourself. Especially if you live in the southern half of the U.S., the West Coast, and much of the Atlantic seaboard, I guarantee there’s some Zonotrichia near you. Braden and I will be waiting for your reports!

White-crowned Update: In writing my recent post “Welcoming White-Crowneds,” published October 1st, I felt pretty sure that I had seen my last White-crowned for the season. However, just yesterday, October 31st, I saw yet another one out at the Fort Missoula Gravel Quarry, reinforcing my feeling that these “Zoned-Out” birds are having a very good year!