We continue our spring birding blog blitz by picking up on our New York City trip last week and the nail-biting account of our Central Park birding adventure. If you’re afraid you will get TOO excited while reading this, I suggest you ask someone to hold your hand. And don’t forget to tune in tomorrow for our next post “Birding Brooklyn”!
On Monday, Tessa and I left Amy to continue recovering and rode the Hudson Line up to see our good friends, fellow author Larry Pringle and his delightful wife Susan. After taking a great walk at Nyack Beach State Park and eating a nice lunch, we returned to Manhattan in time to meet Braden at Penn Station after his first year as a college student! Bright and early the next morning, though, he and I jumped on the C train to do something we’d dreamed about since we began birding eight years ago: bird Central Park during spring migration! (Well, after a stop at Liberty Bagels on 35th St., that is.)
People often ask us the key to successful birding. Our trip to New York provided the definitive answer: bagels.
Just as Tessa and I had done two days earlier, we jumped off at 81st St. and immediately crossed over into Central Park, entering a particularly birdy area known as The Ramble. As mentioned in our last post, I worried that the birds might have left NYC already. Most migrating passerines only appear in the park during brief windows ranging from a few days to 2-4 weeks. They also come in waves that one can easily miss. Within a few minutes, however, the birds put my fears to rest when Braden called out a Black-throated Blue Warbler, a Life Bird for me and one of the most stunning of all warblers. Over the next hour and a half, a veritable songbird hit parade followed with sightings of Worm-eating Warbler, Nashville Warblers, Northern Parulas, Northern Waterthrushes, American Redstarts, Swainson’s and Hermit Thrushes, Magnolia Warbler and much more, including a male Rose-breasted Grosbeak high in the trees.
Black-throated Blue Warbler landed at Number 502 on my ABA (American Birding Association) Area Life List—and what an entry it was!
Not the best view, but this was our first male Rose-breasted Grosbeak since we’d hit High Island, Texas during our 2016 Big Year—so we took it!
Among birders, it’s a well-known fact that seeing a lot of birds can generate an enormous appetite, so Braden and I were forced to sit down and attack our bagels. Mmmm . . . lox shmear . . . Partly satiated and with cream cheese smearing our faces, we again rose and made our way to our second birdy destination—an area of Central Park called North Woods. Along the way, we passed multiple landmarks familiar to anyone who has ever watched movies or Seinfeld including Belvedere Castle, the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir (where Dustin Hoffman jogged just before getting his teeth ripped out without anesthetic by a sadistic dentist), and the Central Park Tennis Center. We also made more bird discoveries such as a large group of White-crowned Sparrows.
Surprisingly, large numbers of White-crowned Sparrows are rare in Central Park. We were lucky to run across a group of five on our walk up to the North Woods section of the park.
To be honest, however, we didn’t think the North Woods could possibly match The Ramble for birds, but we soon learned that . . . it CAN! Two targets, a Yellow-breasted Chat and a Red-headed Woodpecker had created a buzz in that section of the park, and we (ahem) chatted with several birders about them, but it was the other birds that grabbed our attention. These included incredibly cooperative Black-and-White Warblers, glorious Chestnut-sided Warblers, a Veery and Blue-headed Vireo. We struck out on the chat, but making our way east, we followed the creek through an area called The Loch and continued to rack up amazing sightings. These included a quick glimpse at the now-famous Red-headed Woodpecker, several Red-bellied Woodpeckers, a Yellow-throated Vireo, a Great Egret flying overhead, and a bird I especially wanted to see, Swamp Sparrow.
You wouldn’t think an animal that is just black and white could be so stunning, but Braden and I savor each encounter with Black-and-White Warblers.
By now we had birded for five straight hours and our energy was starting to flag, so we reluctantly dragged ourselves to the 103rd St. subway station and caught a ride back downtown. We learned later that we might have picked up Cape May and Blackburnian Warblers if we had hit a part of the Ramble called the Point, but did we mind? Only a little. In fact, our day had exceeded all of our expectations for birding Central Park. During our long morning, we had logged a remarkable 57 species including an amazing 13 kinds of warblers—as many as we could hope to find during a whole year in Montana!
Though I’d seen Chestnut-sided Warblers when taking Braden back to college in Maine last fall, this was my first technicolor, breeding male!
Even better, when we returned to our hotel, Amy was feeling much better and had spent the day with Tessa at Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty, so we all went out to a nice meal at Kung Fu Kitchen. Can you spell pork soup dumplings???? Then, while Braden and Tessa strolled Times Square, Amy and I set off to see The Book of Mormon, a musical we were supposed to see in Seattle when covid struck. But lest you think Braden’s and my Big Apple birding adventures had concluded, stay tuned for our next post . . .
Welcome to Blog 4 of Braden’s series about his and Nick Ramsey’s remarkable birding excursion through Florida. Nowhere in the U.S. do things get more biologically bizarre than in South Florida, and especially in the Keys. Enjoy and, as always, please feel free to share this post.
A Great Horned Owl, the second owl species of our trip so far, greeted us as a silhouette on a power pole as we raced south from the Everglades at dawn. After waking to the sound of more Chuck-wills-widows, we’d packed up the car, and now were on our way towards the southernmost point in Florida. We crossed a small bridge overlooking the slowly-brightening shallow waters of south Florida, and suddenly, we were there: the Florida Keys.
If you need convincing about how invasive species are impacting the planet, go no further than Florida!
Our first stop, like many of our stops today, had one major target: Mangrove Cuckoo. This species, one of North America’s most elusive, had consistent records only from the very southernmost part of the state, barring a few reliable spots farther up the Gulf side. The habitat looked right—the part of Key Largo we’d just entered was absolutely coated in Red and Black Mangroves, and as we pulled into a dirt parking lot, we were greeted with the songs of White-eyed Vireos, a species I had not expected to breed in the mangroves. This area, especially later in the season, could be stellar for vireos, with Red-eyed, White-eyed, Blue-headed, Yellow-throated, Black-whiskered, Thick-billed, Yellow-green and even Mangrove all possible. Unfortunately, we were still a bit early for many of these birds, and we saw and heard only White-eyed throughout the day.
The first stop was not particularly productive, and we realized that we were in the wrong habitat for the cuckoo. Despite having driven through mangroves to get here, the road wound its way through almost-subtropical deciduous forest rather than the water-submerged trees we needed to find a cuckoo. Dagny Johnson Key Largo Hammock Botanical State Park(say that three times), just down the road, proved considerably better, and as we got out of the car Nick got on a warbler almost immediately.
“Black-throated Blue!”
I was thrilled to add this Black-throated Blue warbler to my Life List—one of the last wood warblers I had yet to see.
“Really?” I said, jogging up to where he was standing. Sure enough, a darker, blue and black warbler hopped into view a few feet above us in a tree, and began responding as we played Blue-headed Vireo calls. It was one of my last Eastern wood-warbler needs, and one of the best of them at that. Soon, several parulas and vireos came to the playback as well, and we found ourselves in a miniature mixed winter flock, something we had been hoping to encounter. Continuing down the path, another lifer appeared.
Two dark pigeons flew over, landing in a snag barely lit by the morning sun, and I raised my binoculars, confirming what I’d suspected. While I could make out few other features aside from the dark gray color, the one feature I saw nailed the identification.
“White-crowned Pigeons!”
White-crowned Pigeons, another Lifer for me, was but one of six members of the pigeon/dove family to greet us in South Florida.
This species, a Caribbean mangrove specialist like the cuckoo, also had a very restricted U.S. range, but where it did occur—specifically here—they were supposedly quite abundant, something we confirmed as we drove farther south. They weren’t the only member of Columbidae present, though. We tallied an astounding six species including Eurasian Collared, Mourning, Common Ground and White-winged Doves plus Rock and White-crowned Pigeons. Who knew that the Keys would be so good for this seemingly random family!
Every key differed, if only slightly, from the last. Resorts and restaurants covered the larger Keys, like Key Largo, and I was surprised to see how much land existed on them. I’d assumed many of these islands would be completely mangrove, but I had assumed wrong, as everywhere we looked we saw dirt, whether put there by humans or not. The smaller keys were the really neat ones though—sometimes only a couple of hundreds of meters wide, the Overseas Highway divided what little land each had. We stopped on many of these small keys to play for Mangrove Cuckoos, with no success, but we did make other cool discoveries. Shorebirds coated the beaches and lagoons, and Magnificent Frigatebirds circled above as commonly as Red-tailed Hawks in Montana. The two most abundant passerines were Prairie Warblers and White-eyed Vireos, both of which appeared to have distinct breeding populations found in the mangroves. The water itself was a stunning blue-green, and I could see why hotels and resorts were so popular here.
After adding Prairie Warbler to my Life List early in the trip, I was astonished to find that they and White-eyed Vireos practically dripped from every bush in the Keys.
While we drove, I kept an eye on the sky. While we’d gotten our trip Swallow-tailed Kite a few days before (and also happened to get one in the Keys), we were still missing another Florida specialty: Short-tailed Hawk. This raptor had a very small population in the United States, and could be told from other Buteos by its often-dark wings, barred tail and small size. On our drive down, however, we didn’t spot any, growing a bit concerned that we might miss them for the trip.
After driving over water for a while, we soon arrived at Big Pine Key, one of the largest islands, not to mention being one of the farthest south. This island was unique, hosting a rare habitat known as Caribbean Pine Rockland, and this new habitat brought a new endemic subspecies: Key Deer. This deer, a miniature version of a White-tailed Deer, only lived on this cluster of islands, and did not occur on Key West, farther south, or on any of the keys farther north. Several other strange species lived here, including Indian Peacock, which had been introduced and established itself on this island. Indian Peacock, despite being found all over the United States as escapees, was only actually countable in this one place in the entire country!
We spent the day so far in mangroves, but at the Blue Hole nature walk we felt transported back to the Pineywoods section of the state. This habitat, like the Pineywoods, was actually fire-dependent, although I had a hard time imagining how, given the tiny geographic area it occupied in the middle of the ocean. We soon arrived at a small wooden platform overlooking a large, mostly clear pond: the Blue Hole. A slightly obnoxious woman welcomed us, pointing out an alligator lying right below the platform, its entire, scaled body visible in the water below us. Further out in the pond, a large silver fish floated aimlessly.
“Tarpon,” said the woman, “Usually a fish only found in saltwater. These guys got deposited by the last hurricane. You see that?” She pointed at a mark on the platform at about the height of my knees. “That’s how high the water was, all over this damn island.”
Nick and I continued, finding ourselves on a large dirt road. “If we walk down this, we should see some deer,” said Nick, who’d been here before. Sure enough, after a few dozen meters, we came across a few feeding in the yard of a vacation home. While they weren’t mind-bogglingly small, they were smaller than any of the White-taileds I’d seen in Montana or Maine, or even northern Florida for that matter. We kept Dixie on a leash as she stared intently at the Key Deer, which were fairly unimpressed by our presence. Before leaving, we also managed to hear an Indian Peacock from somewhere in the pines—another lifer for me.
Wait for it . . . finally, a photo of Nick and Dixie! Oh yeah, and a Florida Key Deer on Big Pine Key.
After finding an early Gray Kingbird (see my post “When Montana Birders Collide“), we continued down to Key West, pulling into the parking lot for the Key West Botanical Gardens. It was only forty minutes before closing time and we cursed ourselves, having hoped to get more time at what was surely one of the best spots to bird in the keys. We split up, heading off into the forest of foreign plants to try to tally as many species as possible. After twenty minutes with almost nothing besides a cooperative Black-and-white Warbler, Nick called me. “I’ve got a mixed flock! Get over here!”
It was odd to see a Gray Kingbird in its natural habitat after seeing a vagrant GRKI in Maine just a couple of months ago.
I was on the other side of the gardens, and took back off the way I’d come, eventually finding him on the other side of a manmade lake. He played his mixed flock playback, and the birds poured in: Prairie, Yellow-throated and Palm Warblers, accompanied by a squadron of catbirds. Two splotchy Summer Tanagers joined the fray, and Nick pointed out a Ruby-throated Hummingbird as it zipped by. I was disappointed in my inability to find anything like this on my own, but was happy that we’d finally found one of the mixed flocks the Keys were known for.
Our last major stop of the day was Fort Zachary Taylor Historic State Park, a manicured tourist destination that had been hosting a Black-faced Grassquit for several months now. Birders were unsure as to whether this grassquit was wild or not, given that they were a popular cage bird, but a wild population did exist on the Bahamas, not all that far from here. Regardless, it was one of the less exciting rarity chases we’d ever done. We pulled up to the spot it had been reported in, following coordinates others had posted, and located the bird deep in a bush, its ashy head poking out every once in a while, and that’s where it stayed. After getting another birder on it, we continued walking around the park, scanning trees for more warbler flocks and brush piles for rarities. A Merlin flew over, spooking the established Red Junglefowl as they strutted around the lawns, but we found nothing spectacular, and were soon back on the road north. The Keys had been some of what we’d hoped them to be. I’d gotten several lifers, and we’d found a rare—
No, this is not the Short-tailed Hawk we saw, but the Magnificent Frigatebirds that frequently flew over us should convince anyone that the Chicxulub meteor did not wipe out all the dinosaurs at the end of the Cretaceous!
“Wait!” I yelled as we headed north from Key West. “Hawk!”
Nick and I peered through the windshield. Above us, at the very top of a flock of vultures, soared a small, dark-winged buteo with a striped tail and pointed wings.
“Is it Short-tailed?” I asked, trying to think what else it could be.
“There aren’t Red-taileds here,” said Nick, “And dark morph Broad-winged are incredibly rare in the east, if not unreported. That’s a Short-tailed!” “Woohoo!” I yelled, rolling down the window to get better looks as our car zoomed a hundred meters underneath my last, and best lifer of the day. Okay, so maybe the Keys hadn’t been that bad! We’d missed Mangrove Cuckoo, of course, but Nick and I had a plan for that. A place by the name of Ding Darling National Wildlife Refuge . . .
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News Flash: As if to underscore how difficult it is to keep a magazine going these days—and how much bird-related magazines need our help—as soon as I posted this I learned that Bird Watcher’s Digest was sadly forced to close its doors. But see the next paragraph . . .
Summer 2022 Update: I am happy to announce that Bird Watcher’s Digest is back in business! Its passionate staff found new backers for this venerable bird publishing icon. To subscribe, click here—and you might even find an article by yours truly!
Birds aren’t the only things that need our help these days. So do bird and birding magazines! You all probably know about Audubon, and yes, it is first rate. But are you aware of the many other great birding magazines out there? Braden and I have devoured quite a few and thought it might be useful to share our recommendations. At least a couple of these magazines/organizations have seen a big drop in advertising revenue because of covid and the limitations on bird-related travel, so we encourage you to take the plunge and subscribe or join. Not only will you receive great content, you will help support the larger birding community that is so essential to protecting the birds that we love. And no, we are not being compensated by any of these journals—though we would dearly love a free trip to South Georgia and the South Sandwich Islands. Hello? Is anyone listening? O’well. Here goes:
BirdWatching may be my favorite birding magazine—and not just because I write for it. It offers a wonderful variety of news, ID Tips, and science, but also entertaining features on conservation, travel, and photography. It regularly features columns by Laura Erickson, Pete Dunne, Kenn Kaufman, David Allen Sibley and other top birding experts. Subscribe here.
BirdLife is Braden’s favorite magazine because of its focus on bird conservation. This quarterly—which comes with membership to BirdLife International—offers an engaging mix of conservation news, alerts, science, and stories about the group’s many successes. It’s impossible to read this without feeling more engaged and hopeful about what humanity is doing to protect birds. Join here.
Birding caters to members of the American Birding Association, offering a wonderful mix of articles on birds, birding, travel, science, and conservation. It appeals especially to “listers” but also will interest anyone else with a love of birds. Plus, you will receive other ABA benefits when you join. Join the ABA here.
(See note at top of blog!) Bird Watcher’s Digest may be a more familiar name for many of you, and gives off a more informal “Mom and Pop” vibe, but don’t let that fool you. Despite its smaller, “hand-held” trim size, it is loaded with interesting articles, species accounts, ID tips, and other resources that I always find useful. My article “Messier is Betterer” appears in their Jan/Feb electronic version of the magazine. Learn More.
To round out our review, I want to mention Birds & Blooms, a magazine that focuses more on backyard birding and creating gardens that provide birds with the resources they need. It’s definitely given me a greater appreciation of the many plants that benefit birds and butterflies. If only I had more time for yard work! Subscribe here.
Happy New Year Everyone! Thanks for reading, and may the birds be with all of us in 2022!
After zooming past my former Big Year record, as highlighted in our last post, Braden and I woke the next morning with the promise of a mostly rainless day—and therefore a chance to bird some exciting new places we’d never birded before. Armed with recommendations Braden had gleaned from Oregon native Miles Scheuering (see “When Montana Birders Collide”), we first hit a place just north of Cannon Beach called Seaside Cove, hoping to see Braden’s Number One Target Bird for the entire trip: Rock Sandpiper.
I didn’t know much about Rock Sandpipers except that they breed in far north Alaska and the Aleutians, with a similar coastal distribution in eastern Asia. They can be found in small numbers along the West Coast to Northern California on rocky shores, and are basically the West Coast equivalent of Purple Sandpiper. Unfortunately, they are decidedly uncommon, and when we pulled up to Seaside Cove we saw nothing but a few surfers braving the roaring, messy waves. We walked along the beach anyway, though, and began scanning the rocks, and soon movement caught our eyes: a couple of dozen Surfbirds scattered along the shore, together with a Black Turnstone here and there. As we were walking back toward the car, though, Braden suddenly shouted, “I’ve got him!” Sure enough, next to a Black Turnstone, a bird that looked a lot like a Surfbird—but with a longer, curved bill similar to that of a Dunlin—picked barnacles off the rocks!
This Rock Sandpiper proved to be the “Bird of the Trip” for Braden and me—and just happened to be my 500th All-time ABA Life Bird, a milestone Braden passed earlier in the year. Note the larger, darker—and equally handsome—Black Turnstone behind the sandpiper.Watch the video here!
Thrilled, we watched the ROSA for a good fifteen minutes, just enjoying this rare bird that we were unlikely to see again anytime soon. After finding this Lifer for both of us, we climbed back into the trusty minivan feeling like the rest of the day would be gravy. And what gravy it turned out to be!
NOTE:To watch a live-action video of our Rock Sandpiper discovery, check out our YouTube video here: https://youtu.be/oFaNC3aR8CQ
After a couple of stops at Necanicum River Estuary to look at distant Dunlins and Sanderlings, and less distant Surf Scoters, we drove Del Rey Beach in an unsuccessful bid for endangered Snowy Plovers, though we may have run over six or ten while speeding along the sand. Oh well.
Though our beach drive in search of Snowy Plovers proved a bust—our only miss of the day—nearby Necanicum River Estuary gave us the trip’s closest look at Surf Scoters.
Then, we moved on to Sunset Beach Recreation Area. Starting down the trail, I didn’t expect much, but soon, WHOA! Songbirds started popping up everywhere: Fox Sparrows (hard to observe in Montana), Yellow-rumped Warblers, Spotted Towhees, Black-capped and Chestnut-backed Chickadees—even a Bewick’s Wren made an appearance. Two species were stars of the show: at least ten spectacularly-plumed Varied Thrushes that flew and perched around us, and a pair of Wrentits, birds that had been high on my target list, but seemed like an uncertain possibility. Both species are some of our favorite birds, and this was by far our best, most intimate look at the thrushes, and one of the best of the Wrentits, which were noticeably darker than those we’d observed in California. Incredibly, our day was far from finished!
Varied Thrushes are not only some of our favorite ABA birds, they are without a doubt some of the most stunning visually!
We also love Wrentits–and noticed that those in Oregon are significantly darker than the ones we’d seen in California.
As the morning zoomed on, we continued to pick up species, grabbing Braden’s FOY (First Of Year) Cackling Geese, and breaking another of his trip goals, exceeding 100 species on his Oregon Life List. BOO-YA! Minutes later, at another spot Miles had recommended, Wireless Rd. near Astoria, we found more than 60 Short-billed (formerly Mew) Gulls in a cow pasture, along with yet ANOTHER ABA LIFER, Lesser Black-backed Gull. Then, looking the other direction, Braden watched a large flock of American Wigeon take off and shouted, “I think I see orange!” We spun the scope around, and sure enough, located a Eurasian Wigeon and an American-Eurasian Wigeon hybrid.
Not until we posted this uncommon West Coast visitor, a Lesser Black-backed Gull, did Braden and I realize that we had also seen them in Israel right before the pandemic.Note the dainty Short-billed Gulls (formerly Mew Gulls) and, perhaps, a large juvenile Western Gull surrounding it in this cow pasture.
The rest of our trip, we added County, State, and Year Birds, reaching almost every goal that we had set for ourselves. For Braden that included seeing the Rock Sandpiper, breaking 100 in Oregon, and yes, ALSO breaking his Big Year Record, coming in at 335 species! For myself, I shattered every expectation, reaching 352 Accidental Big Year Birds, nudging Oregon past Idaho into the fifth spot of states with my highest totals, and scoring two unlikely Lifers, Black-legged Kittiwake and Rock Sandpiper. In fact, Rock Sandpiper, proved special for another reason. It became my 500th ABA Life Bird, a milestone long in the making.
Of course, you all know the best part of the whole deal: getting to bird with Braden again after a three-month absence. As 2022 kicks in, we look forward to a lot more birding together and apart, and wish you all wonderful, satisfying birding in the company of those you love. Sneed and Braden
Dear Gentle Birders, Braden and I would like to wish you a Very Birdy 2022, with hopes that in the coming year you enjoy birding and helping birds more than ever. To wrap up the year, we have some very (choose one) a) exciting b) surprising c) alarming birding tales to share with you. Many of you read our post My Accidental Big Year, which highlighted how, quite by accident, I (Sneed) was closing in on my all-time Big Year record of 336 species. Thanks to unanticipated trips to New England, Texas, Washington—even Utah—I found myself creeping tantalizingly close to breaking the record thanks, in great part, to many of you helping me track down birds that I needed! Alas, with six species to go, my momentum ground to a halt in Montana as I unsuccessfully searched for Surf Scoter, Rusty Blackbird, and other rarities that might nudge me closer. Fortunately, I had one more “accidental” ace up my sleeve: our family Christmas trip to Oregon.
This rather blasé Western Gull on the roof of “Mo’s Chowdah” kicked off our final pushes to break both of our Big Year records!
After wrapping up his semester at UMaine, Braden flew home to Missoula early on December 16th, and the next day—thanks to Andy Boyce—we got him his 300th Montana Lifer: Anna’s Hummingbird! I mean, WOW! A couple days later, we headed West on I-90, encountering harrowing conditions that included snow, ice, rain, and a jack-knifed truck on the ascent to Idaho. Even worse, it looked like we would be hitting solid rain and snow in Oregon—potentially kyboshing my aspirations not only to reach 337 species, but push beyond it to 350, something I optimistically thought might be possible if I hit every Oregon target in the vicinity. We arrived at Cannon Beach at about noon on Monday and, since it was raining, and too early to check into our AirBnB, decided to stop at Mo’s for clam chowdah and then tool on down to Tillamook to gorge on cheese curds.
As we pulled into the Mo’s parking lot, Braden pointed to the roof and said, “Well, there’s the first of your six birds!” I laughed, spotting a Western Gull sitting in the rain. Half hour later, as we masticated mediocre chowdah, a Surf Scoter flew by the window. 2 down. 4 to go! Still, as we continued driving down the coast, I wondered if we’d see any other Year Birds in this weather. At Nehalem Bay, however, we pulled over to scout a flotilla of 50 Surf Scoters, and spotted a Red-breasted Merganser for Year Bird number 334. Then, before Tillamook, Braden instructed me to pull over at a place called Barview Jetty where we might find a number of birds high on my needs list. I should have known we were in for a treat when even before the car stopped, Braden exclaimed, “There’s a pair of Harlequin Ducks!” I eagerly jumped out to see my favorite ducks, ducks I had missed in Montana this past summer.
After missing breeding Harlequin Ducks in Montana last summer, I was thrilled to see a pair wintering on the Oregon coast—the only pair we would see during two intensive days of birding!
Within moments, though, other birds sent my head spinning. Five Black Oystercatchers were sitting out on the jetty. Then, through our new Vortex scope, we ID’ed my RECORD BREAKER: Brandt’s Cormorant! The thing? I hardly had time to appreciate it because, driving to another part of the jetty, we saw even MORE great birds. In the parking lot, we got Glaucous-winged Gull, and only a few yards from the car, Black Turnstones. Walking out onto the jetty, we saw Pelagic Cormorants, Dunlins and more turnstones—only to realize that they were another of our favorite birds, Surfbirds!
Braden and I ‘oohed’ and ‘ahed’ over these adorable Barview Jetty Surfbirds, birds that have long placed high on our Favorite Birds list. I especially love the rain bouncing off of their feathers in this photo!
As if that wasn’t enough, as we were walking back to the car, a group of gulls lifted off nearby and Braden studied them for possible Glaucous-winged Gulls. As he did so, I saw a bird that looked a lot like a winter Bonaparte’s Gull. “Oh, there! There! There!” I shouted, not sure what I was seeing. Braden, quickly spotted the bird and said, “Oh my god! That’s a Black Kittiwake!” Neither of us could believe it. It was a bird I never even imagined I’d see on this trip, and it pushed my Accidental Big Year total to a shocking 343 birds, smashing my previous record.
Braden had fallen in love with Black-legged Kittiwakes in Svalbard (Norway) and Iceland, but I never dreamed I’d see my first one right here in the U.S. of A.!
Would I tick off even more birds? Could I tempt that almost magical total of 350? Was it possible Braden would break his own Big Year record??? I’d tell you, but I am craving a chocolate chip cookie. Come back next time to find out!
