Category Archives: Loons

Wings Across the Big Sky 2026 (FSB Festival Recap)

It’s been a furious month for the Collard Clan. Last week, Braden wrapped up two solid weeks of escorting birding friends around western and central Montana. Before that, we did a Birdathon fundraiser with our good friends Susan and Eli to raise money for Five Valleys Audubon. Then, Friday, Braden and I took off to lead trips at Wings Across the Big Sky 2026.

One special thing about WABS is that it moves to different locations in Montana every year, and this year Kalispell played host. Our very first WABS actually was in Kalispell eight years ago, when we got our lifer Harlequin Ducks in Glacier National Park. Since then, I’ve keynoted the festival and, most recently, Braden and I both attended the event in Helena two years ago. This year, one of the festival’s organizers, Darcy Thomas, asked if we would lead field trips to Tally Lake and the CSKT Bison Range. We, of course, said yes and decided to use the drive up on Friday for a bit ‘o exploration.

We began Friday by hitting one of our favorite refuges, Ninepipe National Wildlife Refuge. We didn’t see as many birds as we expected, but did find the most photogenic Short-eared Owl in the history of the universe!

**Could a Short-eared Owl strike a better pose? Not likely!**

We followed that up by checking out a nearby road that supposedly had Bobolinks. Before finding them, however, we stopped at a delightful little forest spot with both Red-eyed and (Western) Warbling Vireos. It’s rare to get a really good look at the former, so we stood oohing and ahing when one came out onto a branch for a full minute of posing. Just down the road, we were treated to at least five Bobolinks and later found more near the town of Creston—along with the most adorable family of baby skunks ever!

**Like Short-eared Owls, Bobolinks require a mandatory stop for photos—and just to appreciate these beautiful, lively songbirds.**

Braden and I felt especially excited to lead the trip to Tally Lake on Saturday because it was a place we had never been. I couldn’t have done the place justice without Braden, because it was a heavy “ear birding” location, full of warblers, vireos, sparrows, and other secretive songbirds. Still, most of the species put in at least one appearance and our friendly birding group ate it up. Braden helped everyone “get on” the various songs and calls, too, so it was a real learning experience.

**We had plenty of time after birding Tally Lake, so our group decided to head out to Kalispell’s West Valley Ponds for some waterfowl fun.**

Top Tally Lake honors went to Rufous Hummingbirds, who struck exceptional poses out in the open with the sun glinting off of their stunning orange-brown feathers. I didn’t realize how fierce these guys look until I studied my photos later. Other crowd favorites included a Common Loon, Willow Flycatcher, and for me especially, a Fox Sparrow.

**Rufous Hummingbirds grabbed top honors at Tally Lake for best bird views. I didn’t realize how fierce these birds can look till I took this photo!**

Exhausted from two straight mornings of rising at 3:30 a.m., Braden and I skipped Saturday evening’s workshops to spend with our friends Erica and Larry Wirtala, who hosted us and are also members of Flathead Audubon—the hosts of this year’s festival. We needed the break since Sunday promised another marathon day!

Our trip to the CSKT Bison Range began with a two-hour drive south from Kalispell, during which our caravan enjoyed stunning scenery along Flathead Lake and in the Mission Valley—and I narrowly missed colliding with a deer. Braden and I really didn’t know what to expect bird-wise at the Bison Range because it had been years since we’d birded it, but we’re so glad we got to lead this trip!

We began our exploration by taking the group to the riparian area just below the visitor’s center. There, we were treated to our best Willow Flycatcher experience ever. These plain-looking “empids” seemed to vocalize from every perch with their quick FITZ-pew songs. The group also got a welcome look at Pileated Woodpeckers and raucous Yellow-headed Blackbirds, too—but it was up on the long, two-hour driving loop that we got our biggest surprises.

**At the CSKT Bison Range, Willow Flycatchers especially put on an audio showcase with their almost nonstop FITZ-pew songs!**

I remembered the loop as mostly very dry grasslands topped by conifer forests, so imagine our delight to discover an excellent riparian zone early on in the drive. Here, we got our group onto Bullock’s Orioles, Lazuli Buntings, and even a Lewis’s Woodpecker. At one point a Golden Eagle gave us an outstanding look while flying right over the car.

Higher up we caught a glimpse of a mama black bear and cub on a ridge before stopping at the #5 marker. Surprises continued as we scooped up another Pileated, a juvie Hairy Woodpecker, Cassin’s Finches, and a Common Nighthawk that was calling while perched in a tree—something we’d never experienced.

**Is there anything more adorable than a juvenile Hairy Woodpecker? Maybe a baby bison? Keep reading to compare.**

We ate lunch at the summit overlooking the spectacular Mission Valley. Our group got excellent looks at Lewis’s Woodpeckers, Red Crossbills, and Pine Siskins, but traffic had begun to build, so we began making our way down the far side of the mountain. All this time, we asked ourselves, “Where are the bison?” Supposedly hundreds of the animals occupied the reserve, but we’d only seen three or four far down below us.

Finally, on the last stretch of road at the end of the road, we encountered a dozen or so adult bison with their bright tan calves. We, of course, pulled over to admire these remarkable critters—even if they were mammals.

**So what do you think? Woodpecker fledgling or bison? Don’t let your mammalian bias influence you!**

As before, Braden and I felt grateful we got to participate in Wings Across the Big Sky, and we highly recommend it to those of you who have always longed to bird in Montana. The trips are always fantastic, and are punctuated by informative workshops and keynotes. This year’s keynote was given Steve Hoffman, founder of HawkWatch International, who opened our eyes to the amazing raptor migrations and counting efforts taking place in the West. (We also felt honored to have Steve on our Tally Lake trip.) Next year’s festival will be in Billings and promises to be a good one. Not only does the Billings area offer outstanding grassland and sagebrush birding, but excellent riparian zones as well. I don’t know about you, but I am already trying to figure out how to attend!

Our Tally Lake eBird list: https://ebird.org/checklist/S356850809

Our Bison Range eBird list: https://ebird.org/checklist/S357543551

**Our Bison Range crew hopes you will be at next year’s Wings Across Big Sky fest in Billings!**

FSB’s Third Annual Short-Eared Owl Lousy Photo Shoot!

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You knew it was coming. You heard the rumours. You’ve waited patiently, and guess what? Today is the day! Right this second, Braden and I are proud to reveal FSB’s Third Annual Short-Eared Owl Lousy Photo Shoot!

Like many birders, Braden and I try to “bird in” the new year with one or more big days of birding somewhere near our home in Missoula. The past couple of years, we’ve headed to Ninepipe National Wildlife Refuge about an hour north of us, mainly because it’s a reliable place for a variety of birds and is especially good for hawks, falcons, and other raptors. This year, our day was shaped by a couple of fun additional circumstances. One is that our long-time friends Susan Snetsinger and her son (Braden’s pal) Eli Frederickson happily agreed to join us for our birding excursion. The other is that a putative sighting of an Arctic Loon on the north end of Flathead Lake sent all of us Montana birders into a tizzy. Why? Because an Arctic Loon has never been reported in the state!

**For the third year in a row, we decided to head north through the spectacular Mission Valley for our first major birding expedition of the year.**

(To view our past two “lousy owl” photo blogs, see our posts Lost in Owls and Plenty of Partridges.)

Unfortunately, on December 30^th, yours truly woke up with his first cold in two years and was in no shape to venture out on January 1st. No problem. Everyone agreed to push back our outing to January 3^rd and, more important, the Arctic Loon was still being reported! As we set out before dawn, fog and ice covered our route, making driving sketchy, especially with the pre-dawn danger of deer wandering out onto the highway. Braden, though, fearlessly drove us north and as we passed the National Bison Range, a bit of light began seeping in through the fog.

We decided to head to the loon first and that afforded Susan and Eli a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to join Braden and me at our favorite French breakfast spot, McDaniels, in Ronan. I even convinced the two of them to order my favorite morning birding beverage, a large iced tea, to help power us all through the day.

**From left to right, Braden, Sneed, Eli, and Susan as we pursued our spirited quest to locate the “Arctic Loon.”**

After a fruitless stop to look for Long-eared Owls near Polson, we arrived at our destination of Somers on Flathead Lake just after 11 a.m. Dan Casey, who first reported the Arctic Loon, had kindly noted several viewing possibilities from the lakeshore, and we began visiting these. Right off the bat, we saw some interesting birds. These included Red-necked Grebes, a species we had never found in Montana at this time of year, and a couple of Blue Jays, a species Braden and I totally missed in our home state last year.

We saw no sign of a loon of any kind, so continued to explore the lakeshore. More fun birds popped up, including a variety of ducks, Trumpeter Swans, and one of our favorite winter birds, Northern Shrikes. We also toured the neighborhood where we’d seen our lifer Snowy Owl eight years ago (see our very first post, A Quest for Snowy Owls). None of the owls have been reported this winter, but we thought, “Might as well give it a try.” We eventually left the Kalispell area both owl-less and loon-less, but none of us really minded. We were still seeing birds and even better, enjoying each other’s company.

**Any day you find a Northern Shrike is a good birding day—and we saw three or four of them during our expedition**.

90 minutes later, we were turning down Duck Road at Ninepipe. It was only 3 p.m., but this time of year it felt a lot later. Much of the fog at cleared, but mist still hung off of the spectacular mountains in the distance, giving everything an other-worldly feel. We drove slowly and picked up some expected raptors: Rough-legged and Red-tailed Hawks, Northern Harrier, Bald Eagle, and American Kestrel.

“Should we go drive by the Short-eared Owl place?” I asked Braden.

“Sure,” he answered and began searching for the location on his phone.

We didn’t get that far.

Heading south on Ninepipe Road, he suddenly shouted, “There’s one!”

I am especially proud of this lousy Short-eared Owl Shot. See how I tilted the camera to make it appear that the owl is flying downhill? Well, guess what? It wasn’t! I just used my advanced photo skills to make you think that. This is a highly complex and dangerous technique, however, so don’t try it at home!

I immediately pulled over so we could all look and, sure enough, there was one of our favorite creatures flying low over a marsh area in the distance.

We had barely begun to look at it, however, when Eli shouted, “There’s another one!”

“Oh my god,” Braden added, scanning with his binos, “There’s three more way out beyond that!”

**If I’d been trying harder, I would have been able to capture up to five SEOWs in one shot–but that might have made the photo TOO good for this blog!**

We clambered out of our minivan, and the more we looked, the more Short-eared Owls we saw. These weren’t quick glances, either. Some of the owls appeared to be hunting, dropping quickly into the marsh for a go at a vole. Others looked to be courting, sparring and jousting “good-naturedly” and briefly locking talons before circling around again. A couple of owls spent a few minutes chasing away a Northern Harrier who apparently lacked the firepower to defend her space.

**This SEOW did not want its identity revealed, so as you can see I used sophisticated AI processing to blur out its face.**

While these weren’t the closest SEOWs we’d ever seen, this was far and away the best Short-eared Owl experience any of us had ever had. Not only were the owls engaging in all kinds of interesting behaviors, we had this winter spectacular all to ourselves.

**We encountered nary another birder during our half hour enjoying this “most owl” spectacle!**

Oh, and did I mention that I got to take more than a dozen lousy Short-eared Owl photos? That felt particularly gratifying since, after three years, I’ve got a reputation to uphold! We hope you enjoy the gallery and keep tuning in to FatherSonBirding. Even more, we hope you keep having your own magical birding moments.

Happy New Year!

P.S. Oh, it turns out that the Arctic Loon got “downgraded” to a Pacific Loon. C’est la loon!

**Even without the owls, a winter visit to the Mission Valley is a soulful, satisfying experience. Oh, and can you find Trumpeter Swans in this picture?**

Graduation Birding Bonanza in Maine

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News Flash!

Braden graduates from the University of Maine!

Okay, we all felt confident that he would, but holy cow, where did the last four years go? After all, when we started FatherSonBirding (see our first post, “A Quest for Snowy Owls,”) Braden had just turned fifteen years old and was a mere freshman in high school. What he has accomplished in college has truly done him proud. He would no doubt say that his greatest achievement was to start the UMaine Birding Club and turn it into a powerhouse campus conservation, education, and social organization. As proud parents, however, Amy and I would point out that he also graduated with highest honors, made incredible friendships, spent a semester in Costa Rica (see post “A Glimpse of a Ghost”), got two articles published in top birding magazines, and amassed a Maine Life List of 231 bird species. Along the way, he has transformed himself into a compassionate, kind leader with a passion for meaningful connections and making the world a better place. Congratulations, Son! We couldn’t be prouder.

Amy, Tessa, and I were incredibly fortunate to be able to travel to Maine to partake in the celebration last week, accompanied by Braden’s wonderful uncle, Dennis. We got to meet Braden’s friends, get a tour of his favorite UMaine hangouts, attend the Honors College celebration—and, of course, we went out birding!

**Braden and I heard “Teacher! Teacher! Teacher!” almost constantly while I was back in Maine, but this is the only Ovenbird I got a good look at.**

Shaking off my eighteen-hour travel day, I awoke bright and early Saturday morning so that Braden could pick me up for an excursion with some of his friends and birding converts to one of their favorite local hotspots: Taylor Bait Farm. Braden and I had birded here three-and-a-half years earlier (see post “A Tornado of Warblers”) when I originally dropped him off for college, but this was my first time back since. A cold drizzle greeted us (see Equipment Notes at end of this blog), but that did nothing to dampen the bird activity. My top priority? Seeing migrating warblers—and they delivered! Almost immediately, Braden and his friends began calling out Chestnut-sided Warblers, Northern Parulas, Black-and-White Warblers, Ovenbirds, Palm Warblers, and a spectacular male Magnolia Warbler.

**Northern Parulas were probably the most common warblers we encountered this past week, and it was especially fun to see them after Roger and I saw Tropical Parulas in Colombia this winter.**

Braden’s friend Emmit confided to me that the UMaine Birding Club generally considered Black-throat Green Warblers to be the “worst” warbler, but we both strongly disagreed, and I said that anyone who had a problem with that should come see me. Shortly afterward, in fact, I got to see my first “BT Green” since Braden and I visited High Island, Texas more than eight years ago!

**Braden poses with friends and fellow Birding Club members Nathaniel, Emmit, and (far right), Drew. I loved meeting them after hearing so much about them the past year.**

That night, after Braden’s Honors College celebration, he took our entire family out to a place he called “the bike path” for what turned out to be one of the coolest things we have ever witnessed. As the sun set over a large field, a strange, short buzzy song interjected itself into the chorus of spring peepers, Red-winged Blackbirds, and other calls. “That’s it!” Braden excitedly told us. “American Woodcock!”

Braden had told me that we might see one, but as is my nature, I didn’t really believe him. As we all waited in the dimming light, however, a shape suddenly rose up into the sky. “There it is!” Braden exclaimed. The bird’s silhouette looked very similar to a Wilson’s Snipe, and it flew around high in the air—in fact, right over us—before diving back down to its spot in some nearby bushes. Dennis and I felt especially moved by this majestic, little-known performance. “I didn’t even know they did that,” I told Braden.

**While we waited for an American Woodcock to take flight, we all enjoyed a stunning sunset over this field near the UMaine campus.**

From there, Braden led us out onto the bike path itself in the hopes that Tessa would get to see amphibians. The path is where Braden has participated in “Big Nights”: rainy evenings when locals go out to look for—and help—frogs and salamanders that are migrating from their wintering grounds to spring breeding sites. We were a bit late in the year and the rain had stopped, but we lucked out by finding a lone spring peeper on the path. Braden showed Tessa how to wet her hands before picking it up so as not to damage the animal’s delicate skin. Then she moved it off to safety. It was the first frog Tessa ever got to hold and it pretty much made the trip for her!

**We had to really watch our step on the bike path because the spring peepers and salamanders can blend right into the pavement.**

Because of the rain and dim light, I had yet to take any bird photos, so the next morning I woke early before graduation and birded around our Airbnb at Pushaw Lake, nabbing a couple of year birds, Eastern Bluebird and Pine Warbler. Then, we all headed into Bangor to watch Braden “move his tassel.”

**After Braden and I were fortunate to see an Eastern Bluebird during last summer’s eastern Montana expedition, I loved seeing one in it’s “proper” habitat next to our Airbnb!**

Before we knew it, though, we awoke to our final morning in Maine, and Braden picked me up for another early round of birding. He had originally intended to find me my lifer Winter Wren, but I told him that I’d rather spend more time with warblers—and try to photograph them—so we headed back to Taylor Bait Farm. We are so glad that we did!

The hotspot proved even birdier today than it had two mornings earlier. The day started out great, with excellent looks at Solitary Sandpiper, Rose-breasted Grosbeak, Blue-headed Vireos, and Veery. Common Loons flew overhead and a Ruffed Grouse thumped in the distance.

Despite being present in Montana, Veerys are birds that I don’t have a lot of experience with, so I was happy to see and hear them in Maine.

The warblers had not gone anywhere, either. We saw or heard thirteen species. I captured my best-ever Chestnut-sided Warbler photos, but the highlight was finding a Bay-breasted Warbler, a bird Braden especially wanted to see before leaving Maine. It was ironic that this bird captivated us so much here after blowing us away in Montana last spring (see post “A Rare Warbler in Western Montana”). Believe it or not, it did not even end up being our bird of the day.

**Best-looking Warbler ever? The breeding Chestnut-sided Warbler makes a good claim to it. Braden called this one in close so I could get this wonderful shot!**

As we made our way back to the car so that we could meet up for a final family breakfast, Braden suggested we take a slightly different path that wound its way along one of the ponds. As we started down it, a bird flew across the sky. “Get your eyes on that!” Braden said.

I did and for a moment, felt disoriented by what I was seeing. Then my brain began to put it together. “It looks like a cuckoo!” I said.

“It’s a Black-billed Cuckoo!” Braden exulted right before the bird disappeared.

We just stared at each other, open-jawed.

“Have you seen them here before?” I asked.

“I’ve never seen one in Maine!” he emphasized. “They’re really hard to see—and you never hear of one just flying over like that! That’s a lifer for you!”

(See also our post “Going Cuckoo for Fall Warblers in Texas.”)

**Sneed and Braden on their final, terrific outing at Taylor Bait Farm.**

Indeed, but even more, it was a total shock. Like the Yellow-throated Warbler I saw in Texas only three weeks ago (see post “Target Birds and a Shocking Surprise in the Texas Hill Country”), the cuckoo hadn’t even registered as a possibility. It was a great way to cap what turned out to be Braden’s best outing at Taylor Bait Farm in three-and-a-half years birding it. I couldn’t help thinking it made a perfect graduation gift—and boded well both for birds and Braden’s future birding career.

Sneed’s Trip Report: https://ebird.org/tripreport/370034

Equipment Notes: On this trip, I took along a pair of Vortex Viper HD 8X42 binoculars, which I reviewed in this post. This, however, was my first chance to use them in rainy conditions and I have to say, they performed incredibly well. While my companions’ bins were fogging up, the Viper HDs stayed clear as a bell during our two-hour drizzly session. I also had a chance to use the Vipers in “almost night” conditions to view the American Woodcock mentioned above. Again, I was impressed with the amount of light they transmitted, allowing me to easily follow the bird’s silhouette in flight. Back at our Airbnb, I let Braden look at a distant loon on the lake and he said, “Wow, those are good binoculars!” I suspect I’ll be using these a lot more!

**A slightly ruffled-looking Black-and-White Warbler, a favorite among UMaine Birding Club members!**

Birding Race Point: Cape Cod’s Pelagic Playground

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The week before Thanksgiving, my family had the opportunity to visit a place that featured prominently in my childhood—Cape Cod, Massachusetts. We headed to Boston so that I could accept a big award for my picture book, Border Crossings, but the trip provided many piggybacking opportunities. These included a chance to look at colleges for Braden’s sister, Tessa, and to meet up with Braden for Thanksgiving. After Amy, Tessa, and I spent a few days in Boston, in fact, Braden drove down from the University of Maine and whisked us off to the Cape.

I spent parts of many summers in Woods Hole on the Cape. My father did his post-doc at WHOI—the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution. My step-father spent dozens of summers in Woods Hole doing research and teaching classes at the MBL—the Marine Biological Laboratories. I have many fond (and some not-so-fond) memories of those summers, but had not been back for (gasp) 45 years! I looked forward to revisiting old haunts and showing my family some of the places that had shaped my childhood. Naturally, Braden and I also considered the birding possibilities.

When Braden first mentioned going to Race Point near Provincetown, I hesitated. I recalled driving up there as a ten-year-old and didn’t relish spending an extra four hours of our vacation in a car. When Braden started telling me what we might find there, however, I quickly changed my mind.

Race Point, it turns out, is one of the nation’s premiere places for spotting seabirds from land. A map reveals an obvious reason: Cape Cod juts miles out into the Atlantic Ocean, and the tip—Race Point itself—is surrounded on three sides by the sea. This means that birders have an opportunity to see both regular beach-type birds and many species that only rarely show up near land. Braden and I especially hoped to see jaegers, “tube noses” such as shearwaters, and any interesting gulls or ducks that happened to be around.

After a delicious breakfast at Liz’s Café in Provincetown, Braden and I left Amy and Tessa to explore while we headed off to the parking lot near Race Point lighthouse. As soon as we approached the beach, we spotted Northern Gannets soaring above wild, wind-raked seas. I’d only ever gotten a brief look at a NOGA before, when Braden and I had visited Acadia National Park three years before, so right away the drive up to Provincetown redeemed itself!

However, the excitement was just beginning.

**One of perhaps 150 Northern Gannets we saw at Race Point. Like Blue-footed Boobies, these birds torpedo straight down into schools of fish.**

As wind and sand pelted us, groups of White-winged and Black Scoters, Common Eiders, and Long-tailed Ducks skimmed the waves just offshore. Some occasionally landed, but most seemed hell-bent for destinations only they knew about. All were birds I had scant experience with, so I soaked up every sighting.

**This was only my second time seeing Common Eiders, and I was uber impressed by the coloration of both females and males.**

“There’s a Red-throated Loon!” Braden said, pointing to a bird with an exceedingly pale, long neck reaching up from the surface. It wouldn’t be long before we saw several Common Loons, differentiated by blockier heads, chunkier bills, and more black on their faces.

**Only my second Red-throated Loon ever. Note the smooth, rounded head and white “winter” face.**

At the top of our To Find list were Great Shearwaters, a potential Lifer for both of us. These birds belong to the “tube noses,” the same group of birds that includes albatrosses, fulmars, and storm-petrels. These birds are truly seafarers, rarely approaching shore. Only a few weeks ago, I had caught a glimpse of Sooty Shearwaters while visiting California’s Point Reyes National Park with my friend Scott. Great Shearwaters had been sighted regularly at Race Point for the past couple of weeks, but alas, we arrived too late to see them today.

**Braden fruitlessly searching the seas for Great Shearwaters and jaegers.**

We still had plenty of thrilling birds to look at, however. As we trudged the mile and a half through the soft sand toward the very tip of the Cape, flocks of Dunlin and Sanderlings in their winter plumages worked the drifts of foam left on the beach by each encroaching wave. We even saw a group of six Horned Larks, birds we were used to seeing on the backroads of Montana—not here at the end of the world.

**It had been years since I’d gotten to hang with Dunlins, and it was a real treat.**

Not to be outdone, gulls also put on a show. This was the first time I’d ever gotten to see Great Black-backed Gulls in a natural setting. They are the world’s largest gulls, and I gotta say they looked like they belonged in this rugged, challenging environment.

“Look!” Braden suddenly shouted. “Iceland Gull!” Two of them, in fact. These gulls had until recently been split into Iceland and Thayer’s Gull, and Braden and I had seen the latter at the Helena landfill in Montana. This look was much more memorable as both a juvenile and adult landed near us. Both were gorgeous birds with subtle markings, and they quickly jumped into contention for Bird of the Day honors. Not long after seeing the Iceland Gulls, Braden also spotted a Black-legged Kittiwake. I was grateful he’d gained experience with all of these birds while on the East Coast, because I certainly would have missed a lot of them.

**I don’t even want to know what this Great Black-backed Gull is eating, as our two Iceland Gulls look on.**

I picked up two Lifers for the day. One was Razorbill, a kind of black-and-white alcid I had dreamed about seeing for years (see our post “All About Alcids”). During our hike to the lighthouse and back, we saw about eighty of these birds in groups, flying low or bobbing up and down in the jagged waves. My second Lifer was a pair of Purple Sandpipers that landed in front of us and shouldn’t have been anywhere near a wide sandy beach. Like its closely-related West Coast cousin the Rock Sandpiper, these are rocky shore birds.

**I was especially thrilled to see my Lifer Razorbills, but it’s a tossup whether these or the Iceland Gulls grabbed Bird of the Day honors.**

“They must be migrating,” I said, and Braden agreed, though we were well within their wintering latitudes.

As we trudged back toward the car, Braden spotted a fin jutting out of the water. At first we thought it might be the dorsal fin of a shark or orca, but after watching it for a few minutes, we concluded that we were looking at the tail flukes of a larger whale. I’d seen quite a few humpback whales before, and these didn’t look anything like it. “I think it’s a Right Whale,” I said. Later, we learned that Right Whales had been regularly spotted in the area. It was one more unforgettable discovery for a memorable day.

Race Point eBird Checklist: https://ebird.org/checklist/S203601766

Abbotts Lagoon, Point Reyes National Seashore (or Chasing Migrants, Part II)

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After our amazing encounter with Vaux’s Swifts and shorebirds (see our last post), Scott and I had another productive session the next morning at the Ellis Creek water recycling facility and Tubbs Island, both in Sonoma County. As an added bonus, we got to bird with two of Scott’s pals, Steve and Sean. Steve and Scott began birding about the same time and were still in the beginning phases of their birding careers, but Sean grew up birding and taught us all some cool ID features. Most important, he confirmed that the peeps Scott and I saw the day before were indeed Least Sandpipers. With his help, we were also able to identify a couple of sneaky Western Sandpipers that were comingling with the approximately 400 Least Sandpipers in front of us. As much as we enjoyed these sessions, what Scott, Steve, and I looked forward to the next day even more. That’s when we planned to bird legendary Abbotts Lagoon.

**(L to R) Sean, Steve, and Scott investigating the wilds of the Ellis Water recyling plant!**

Abbotts Lagoon sits within Point Reyes National Seashore, and none of us had ever before birded it. However, Braden and our occasional guest contributor, Roger Kohn, had both been there and given it high marks. As we crested the mountains at Point Reyes and drove down toward the coast, I didn’t know what we would find, but held my hopes high.

Reaching the beginning of the lagoon requires a mile or so hike through remarkable dwarf-like vegetation that reminded me of steppe or tundra, probably because fog enshrouded the lands around us. I hadn’t realized we would have to hoof it so far, but I was grateful because we got great looks at many California residents: California Quail, California Scrub-Jays, White-crowned Sparrows, and most exciting, Wrentits. One of these, in fact, popped up no more than fifteen feet from us—unusual for a generally secretive bird. Nontheless, it was the lagoon and beach beyond that propelled us forward and when we reached the lagoon we found . . .

**Though a bit of a hike, the mile-long walk to the lagoon offered a nice variety of songbirds and raptors, including this banded White-crowned Sparrow.**

Nothing.

Well, almost. Instead of vast rafts of shorebirds ripping up the mud, only a couple of wading birds and American White Pelicans could be made out as far as the eye could see. Darn, I thought to myself. But if there’s an, ahem, cardinal rule to birding it is this: You Never Know. So we plowed ahead, following the harder beach sand, and soon came to a little bend where we got great close-ups of three Red-necked Phalaropes and a Pectoral Sandpiper—a bird I recognized only from my hours studying them in Montana. This bird, in fact, was quite interesting because PESAs show up only in small numbers on the West Coast, and generally only in fall. A lifer for Scott and Steve!

These Red-necked Phalaropes and a lone Pectoral Sandpiper were the highlights of our walk around the lagoon to the beach.

Continuing toward the ocean, we spotted two Black-bellied Plovers and a flight of shorebirds in the distance, but it wasn’t until we reached the ocean that we got some real action.

I was just as excited by pelagic bird possibilities as I was by shorebirds, and once on the beach I immediately set up the spotting scope we’d lugged the two miles out there. Like shorbs, I rarely have a chance to observe pelagic birds, and I felt determined to make the most of this rare opportunity. Right away, I saw a number of dark shapes out on the water—shapes that appeared and disappeared on the four-foot swell. Oh man, I thought to myself, I’m never going to be able to figure out what those are. In such situations, I have learned to relax and just hang in there, and that’s what I did now.

From studying before the trip, I came up with several likely possibilities of species that could be out there. These included Common Murres, Pigeon Guillemots, various storm-petrels, and Sooty Shearwaters. In fact, as we arrived, I noticed at least eight medium-sized dark birds swooping low over the water. When they turned, I spotted light patches under the wings. First victory: Sooty Shearwaters.

Then, I saw a larger bird floating a couple of hundred yards offshore. The shape shouted “Loon” and I thought, “Hm, that looks like it has a silvery sheen on its head.” Victory #2: Pacific Loon!

Identifying pelagic birds at great distance can take great patience and not a little skill, but in time, many species reveal themselves. The keys to this Pacific Loon? A silvery sheen on its head, a thinner bill than found on Common Loons, and a thin black “chin strap” or collar around the neck.

After that, it got harder, but I did manage to ID some distant Common Murres by the white around the face and neck, thinner “up-pointed” bills, and longer body lengths. A seabird expert undoubtedly would have found additional species, but as a seabird novice, I felt satisfied. Humorously, as I was looking through the scope, I suddenly saw a whale’s tail emerge behind several of the birds. Did I look up? Of course not! Who has time for pesky mammals when there are ocean birds to be seen!

But let us not ignore the beach itself. As Scott, Steve, and I enjoyed the waves and emerging sun, the shorebirds decided to put on a show. On one side of us, a flock of at least 150 Least Sandpipers landed only a hundred yards away. On the other side, a couple of hundred Western Sandpipers settled down. Talk about your perfect conditions for comparison! In fact, this was my first chance ever to get good, leisurely looks at Westerns and I took full advantage of it.

The beach at Abbotts Lagoon offered by far my best opportunity ever to study Western Sandpipers. Note (if you can) the overall pale appearance and the reddish “shoulder blades” typical of juveniles this time of year. **WESAs also tend to have longer, more curved bills than other peeps.**

You remember that Sesame Street song “One of these things is not like the other?” Studying the Least Sandpipers, I spotted a much paler bird with a thick black bill and black legs. Another peep: Sanderling!

Meanwhile, among the Western Sandpipers, I espied smaller birds with shorter bills and dark collars around their necks—Semipalmated Plovers!

**I was especially tickled to find half a dozen Semipalmated Plovers among the Western Sandpipers. Go plovers!**

To add to the show, a Peregrine Falcon landed on the sand behind us, and on the way back we saw several other raptors including a White-tailed Kite. After Abbotts, we got a delicious lunch at Inverness Park Market, and then headed to Limantour Beach for great looks at Surf Scoters. All in all, it was an awesome day chasing migrants, featuring good birds, good food, and best of all, great company.

Trip Report: https://ebird.org/tripreport/276917