Category Archives: Songbirds

Braden’s & Nick’s Epic Florida Adventure: Day One

From Sneed: Following our Accidental Big Year last year, Braden has set out to really smash his Big Year record of 335 birds in 2022, with a goal of at least 400 species. He and I got a great start in Montana on New Year’s Day, but that was nothing compared to the trip he just took with our recent guest blogger, Nick Ramsey. As soon as Spring Break began, he flew to New Orleans where Nick picked him up and they embarked on a break-neck marathon birding expedition the length of the state of Florida. Here is Braden’s first installment of this epic adventure.

I awoke at dawn, no more than five hours after I’d fallen asleep in the passenger seat of Nick Ramsey’s gray-gold Honda Pilot named Betsy, parked on a sandy road surrounded by Longleaf Pines in Apalachicola, Florida. Nick was already outside, overturning logs and branches in search of herps—reptiles and amphibians—and he greeted me as I climbed out of the car, as did his dog Dixie, a mutt the size of an obese squirrel, who marked my jeans with the first muddy smears of the trip.

“We’re not that far from the pin,” said Nick, his binoculars and camera slung across one shoulder. “If we just walk along this road and then bushwhack a little, it should be pretty easy to find.”

We set off along the sandy road, and birds I hadn’t seen or heard in years belted out melodies: Pine Warblers, Northern Parulas, Carolina Wrens and Tufted Titmice. While this trip’s main goal was to seek out birds, it doubled as a general nature expedition, and right now we were on the hunt for salamanders. Following directions Nick’s friend had sent him, we walked through oaks and pines until coming across a small seep in the forest. Nick immediately stepped into the water, his sneakers sinking up to his shins, and began overturning logs.

“I got one!” he soon shouted, shoving his hand into the muck and pulling out a small, dark gray amphibian. It was the threatened Apalachicola Dusky Salamander, a creature whose range was almost entirely confined to this small part of Florida and a nearby part of Georgia. This had been Nick’s main amphibian target of the day, meaning that we’d already achieved one of many goals we had talked about for the trip.

**Although our expedition was bird-focused, that didn’t mean we could ignore other great Florida flora and fauna—including endangered Dusky Salamanders!**

Birdwise, I’d compiled a list of about a dozen or so species that I wanted to see while I was down here. For this Pineywoods section of the state, my main targets were Red-cockaded Woodpecker, Bachman’s Sparrow and Brown-headed Nuthatch, a bird that had eluded me several times already. Unfortunately, while the area surrounding the salamanders’ habitat was indeed filled with Longleaf Pine—which all three of these species needed—there were neither mature-enough trees nor grassy-enough ground for any of them. Further south, though, we hoped to see the endemic Florida Scrub-Jay, as well as Snail Kites and Limpkins, two species well-known for their dependence on apple snails. White-crowned Pigeon was a goal in the Florida Keys, as was my number one target for the trip: the notoriously difficult Mangrove Cuckoo. I also wanted good looks at Burrowing Owls and Sandhill Cranes while, as a veteran Florida birder, Nick’s goals oriented more towards Miami exotic species, specifically White-winged Parakeet, Red-whiskered Bulbul and Spot-breasted Oriole. Besides this, we just hoped to see as many birds as possible—and we’d already made a good start.

After picking me up from the New Orleans airport the day before, Nick had driven us to the largest, ugliest lake in Louisiana in search of a Brown Booby someone had reported on Facebook just minutes earlier. Lake Pontchartrain had all of the color and none of the appeal of chocolate milk, stretching out of view so that it looked just like the Gulf of Mexico. The Brown Booby, a species that lived in the Gulf, had thought so too, and we’d found the bird surrounded with Brown Pelicans and Double-crested Cormorants perched on some sort of piping running into the water. After this early success, we had gone to a bar where I tried Cajun food for the first time. All I can say is that, if there were boudin balls in Maine, I would never eat another dining hall meal again.

This uncommon Brown Booby on Lake Ponchatrain kicked off our epic adventure in style.

After spending our first of many nights in Nick’s car in Apalachicola, we woke to the Dusky Salamanders, and also discovered a Southern Toad under a small log. Then we drove to our next pin, a pull-off on the side of the highway where we were rewarded with pitcher plants, sundews, and introduced Venus flytraps. The rest of the day we devoted to birding. As we cruised the entrance road to St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge, Nick called out the songs of White-eyed Vireos, which sounded like those of the Cassin’s I knew quite well mixed with random “chuck” calls, as they emanated from the forest. We pulled into the Visitor Center Parking Lot, finding ourselves in classic old-growth Longleaf forest. Here, large patches of palmetto and young pines stuck out from the scrubby understory, and Nick immediately began overturning dead fronds to look for Pygmy Rattlesnakes. The young Longleaf Pines looked just like tall, extra-green tufts of grass, a really strange feature unique to this conifer.

**White-eyed Vireos would provide a new and pleasant serenade for me on many parts of our adventure.**

With few birds at the Visitor Center, we drove to Helipad Landing. Red-cockaded Woodpeckers had been reported here, and a large field of brambles served as a wintering site for Henslow’s Sparrows, LeConte’s Sparrows, and sometimes, Yellow Rails. In true Nick Ramsey fashion, Nick set off across the field in hopes of flushing one of these species while I stayed on the road with Dixie. Again, we didn’t find much.

“Don’t worry,” said Nick as we walked back to the car, “Wait until we reach the ponds. We’ll see so many birds that we won’t know what to do with them.”

Always-impressive Anhingas would keep us company for much of our trip to the Keys and back.

As we rounded a corner towards one of the ponds, however, we were met with an unexpected sight: save for a few Pied-billed Grebes, the water was almost completely deserted. We saw not a single duck, much less the huge wintering flocks St. Marks was known for. Apparently, this year was not the first year that winter waterfowl numbers had been low in Northern Florida. Climate change had rendered conditions more suitable for ducks to winter further north, and thus, the ducks had no need to continue their southward migration. We did spot a few more birds that I hadn’t seen for years at this spot, called the Stoney Bayou, including Anhingas, Little Blue Herons and a Boat-tailed Grackle, but felt a bit disappointed. Thankfully, as we continued to drive things began to pick up.

Nick abruptly stopped the car as we were driving around a pond. “I can’t tell if that’s the call of a Prairie Warbler or a Hooded Warbler. Do you wanna get out and look for it?”

I did, camera-ready, given that Prairie Warbler would be a lifer while Hooded would be flagged for the area. An Eastern Phoebe sat on a snag underneath an Anhinga sunning itself, and I scanned the bushes behind them for yellow birds that might be skulking there.

“Oh crap, it’s both!” shouted Nick from the car behind me.

I hadn’t seen a Hooded Warbler since my Dad and I did our Big Year in 2016.

Sure enough, a bright male Prairie Warbler hopped into view above the phoebe—my first lifer of the trip! And below it, a beautiful male Hooded Warbler hopped onto a log floating in the water, chasing insects around as it dodged and wove between overhanging branches.

The birds continued to multiply as the road reached the ocean at a place called Lighthouse Pond, and we walked around it, tallying waders and seabirds as they flew over our heads. St. Marks was well-known as the wintering site for a single American Flamingo, and we spotted it way out in the bay with its head tucked into its feathers, resembling a pink lollipop sticking out of the ocean. At Lighthouse Pond I also spotted our first American Alligator, floating suspiciously near a Tricolored Heron, and I decided that I would keep a running tally of these cool critters. Back at the Visitor Center, we ran into a mixed flock of warblers, gnatcatchers and vireos foraging in the pines above us. There I spotted my lifer Yellow-throated Warbler alongside parulas and Black-and-White Warblers, and Nick pointed out our first target bird of the trip, a Brown-headed Nuthatch squeaking as it climbed up a nearby tree.

Two for lunch? I hope these waders (Tricolored & Little Blue Heron) know what they’re doing.

At the Panacea Unit of the Wildlife Refuge, known for its old-growth pine forest and extensive saltmarsh, we struck out on Red-cockaded Woodpecker and Bachman’s Sparrow, arriving at the saltmarsh just as the sun began to set. We did spot three Wood Storks, and heard were the raucous calls of Clapper Rails, both species I’d never observed before! Soon enough, Nick waded out into the marsh, flushing up both Seaside and Nelson’s Sparrows for brief looks. An American Bittern lifted out of the marsh as the light grew gray, and we feasted on celebratory sandwiches as we drove through the night towards the Atlantic Coast of Florida, where we’d be crashing at Nick’s grandmother’s vacation home. Despite it not being a particularly lucky day, we’d observed almost 100 species at St. Marks alone, setting a great tone for the rest of the trip. However, we had no idea what was to come in the next five days as we planned to traverse the entire length of Florida and back.

Brown-headed Nuthatches were a lifer for me—and far from the last for this trip!

Battling the February Birding Blahs

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In a recent Redpolling poll, voters overwhelmingly chose February as the worst month for birding (except for a few cheeky Floridians who lorded it over the rest of us). But is February really that bad? In Montana, after all, you can go find some wonderful winter residents such as Rough-legged Hawks, Northern Shrikes, and Snow Buntings. On the other hand, by February you’ve usually seen those already so where does that leave you?

**February is a great month to catch up on bird-related reading. For my review on this and other excellent titles, Follow @sneedcollard on Instagram.**

For me personally, February is a time to get a lot of actual WORK done such as writing birding articles, banging out new children’s books, writing letters to the editor and my senators about bird conservation, and reading bird books. That doesn’t mean, however, that I’m not curious about which birds are around—while remaining optimistic that I’ll find some surprises if I go out. On a morning dog walk recently, for example, a Northern Goshawk flew right over me and Lola! This last Sunday morning, Lola and I again headed out wondering if we might see any other surprises.

**Just to prove that in birding you never know—even in February—a Northern Goshawk flew right over me and my dog Lola only a couple of weeks ago! It was the first I’d ever seen on my own.**

We decided to do a loop I only rarely traverse anymore, through a private neighborhood that COULD be great bird habitat but has instead been landscaped with acres of lawn and over-pruned trees. Still, even before we got to that neighborhood, I noticed that our resident birds have shifted into courtship mode. On Valentine’s Day I heard the first two-note song of a chickadee for the year and also the first throaty warble of an advertising Northern Flicker. This morning, I heard both of those—plus an amazing number of Song Sparrows also advertising. I haven’t kept track of “first spring calls” before, but I wondered if they are on a trend toward “springing out” earlier and earlier every year?

**After not hearing a Song Sparrow call for many weeks, I was gratified to hear four of them singing in different locations on our recent Sunday morning walk!**

In the private neighborhood itself, we heard some distant wild turkeys, a Red Crossbill, and an unknown high-pitched cacophony. My hearing is so sucky anymore I couldn’t tell who was making this chattering, but whipped out Merlin’s Sound ID, which ID’ed them as Pine Siskins. But where were they? I walked forward a bit, turned around and there they were—more than forty of them in a tree! Okay, so it wasn’t a Northern Pygmy-Owl, but I was still happy. Lola and I had headed out expecting maybe 6 or 8 species and ended up with sixteen! Just goes to show you that, even in the February Blahs, birds are around and ready to teach us new things.

**A flock of 40 Pine Siskins proved a delightful highlight of our unlikely February neighborhood walk.**

Our Accidental Big Year: Final Tally, Part 2

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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!

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

FatherSonBirding’s 100th Post Video Spectacular: Counting Down Our Top 5 Most Popular Posts!

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If you’d like to see us continue our posts, PLEASE SUBSCRIBE by filling out the box down and to the right. We promise we will not share or give away your information to ANYONE—though you can always feel free to share our posts with others who might enjoy them!

Do you remember listening to American Top 40 as a kid? Sure you do! To celebrate our 100th post, we decided to count down FSB’s All-Time Most Popular Posts—with a video!

Yes, believe it or not, this is FatherSonBirding’s 100th post! Since we seem to be evolving toward a video world, Braden and I agreed that a video post would be a fun way to celebrate our last four years of birding and blogging. Just don’t get used to it! Videos take a lot more effort than regular blogging and, frankly, making videos eats into our birding time!

A few notes about the Top 5. They may not be technically correct since for some of our early posts, we may not have been gathering statistics on views. Also, we had not yet switched to a Payola scheme by which people pay us to make sure that certain posts are more popular. Just kidding! About the Payola, that is. I’ll always be curious just how many views our first post, A Quest for Snowy Owls (published March 13, 2018) has really received!

Also, below are some quick links to the posts mentioned in this blog. They are NOT IN ORDER of popularity so there’s no opportunity for cheating here! You’ll just have to watch the video to find out WHAT IS NUMBER ONE! Also, I have misspelled “Maclay Flat” as “McClay Flats” and other permutations. You’ll just have to forgive me!

Thank you for following our birding adventures. We appreciate you and hope this winter brings you plenty of birding adventures of your own!

Links to Blogs mentioned in the video (not in order of popularity):

Lucky Day at Maclay

Birding San Antonio’s River Walk? Are You Nuts?

Incredible Birthday Birding

For Birders, Every Year is a Big Year

Are You Ready for . . . the QUACH?

To view this video post on YouTube, CLICK HERE!

Rare Bird Hat Trick!

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In my last blog, My Accidental Big Year, I recounted my fun birding adventures with some of Houston’s top birders in my quest to “accidentally” break my Big Year record of 336 ABA species. Even as I posted that blog, I harbored serious doubts if I could do it. However, after this week’s—dare I call them shocking?—events, I am more optimistic. It all started when I got a great email from Will Sebern, who had read my last blog and asked if I had gotten an Anna’s Hummingbird for the year and, if not, would I like to come over and see the one visiting his feeder. The answer: No and a resounding Yes! Less than 24 hours later, I was pleasantly chatting with Will on his porch admiring a gorgeous beauty sipping at his feeder. Ka-ching! My year count rose to 328—only nine short of my goal! Thank you, Will! (Note, I picked up number 327—Woodhouse’s Scrub-Jay— during a daddy-daughter trip to Salt Lake City last week!)

**Anna’s Hummingbirds sweep through western Montana every year, but Braden nor I had ever seen one—until my surprise invitation from Will Sebern!**

That said, nine new Year Birds in Montana—in winter—was not a small number. For one thing, I was not willing to race everywhere across the state to chase birds. Burning up gasoline to see birds, birds that are directly harmed by carbon dioxide emissions, has become more and more of a concern for me and other birders. I was willing, though, to travel an hour or two, especially if I could carpool with others. “Maybe,” I thought, “I might be able to run into two or three rarities fairly close to Missoula,” and began eyeing eBird rare bird alerts. During my trip to Texas, I missed quite a few opportunities, but then, a few days ago, Montana eBirder Sharon Dewart-Hansen posted a picture of a Long-tailed Duck at Brown’s Lake only an hour from Missoula! I couldn’t go that day or the next, but called Braden and asked, “Do you think it will still be there tomorrow?” He answered, “Well, ducks often stick around for a while. I’ll bet it will.”

**One of the delights of our day was the first sightings of so many of Montana’s western winter birds—including this immature Northern Shrike!**

I fired off a text to several local birders to see if they wanted to join me—and no one could make it. “That’s okay,” I thought. “I’ll take the dog and we’ll have a good time whether or not we see anything.” The next morning, though, Steve Flood texted that he could make it after all. We rendezvoused at the truck stop in Bonner and merrily headed up Highway 200.

Arriving at Brown’s Lake, a surprise flock of Common Redpolls greeted us, but though we saw some cool grebes and ducks, THE duck was nowhere in sight at our first stop. We kept circling the lake, though, and spotted a suspicious critter near the campground. I hit the brakes. “Is that it?” Steve answered, “I think it is!” Sure enough, the Long-tailed Duck paddled only fifty feet offshore. The duck, however, was just the beginning. At the campground, Steve found three distant Pacific Loons while I spotted two gulls that turned out to be Bonaparte’s Gulls. A pair of American Tree Swallows—the first of winter—put an accent on our finds.

**Seeing only my second Long-tailed Duck ever will long lodge itself in my memory banks. Never did I suspect it would be the first of three Big Year birds Steve Flood and I would see that day!**

Elated with our finds, we headed out along the backroads behind Brown’s Lake, which I had never birded, but Steve knew well. More surprises greeted us including a bevy of other new winter arrivals including my first Rough-legged Hawks, Bohemian Waxwings, and Northern Shrikes of the season! Since we were on a roll, I asked, “Hey Steve, you want to take a quick run up to Seeley Lake on our way home?” Steve was game. We turned right at Clearwater Junction and twenty minutes later pulled into the River Point picnic area on the lake’s west side. I had few expectations, but we saw Common Loons, Western Grebes, Hooded Mergansers, and another surprise flock of Common Redpolls. Then, looking through his scope, Steve said, “I have a present for you.” I peered into the eyepiece and saw . . . A beautiful Pacific Loon! Er, check that . . .

**Birding with top-notch birder Steve Flood proved not only a way to learn a lot and help reduce our carbon footprints, it was a great way to make a new friend!**

It was the same Red-throated Loon Steve had discovered a couple of weeks before! Neither of us had any idea it would still be around, and it capped a remarkable day, one that not only netted me three new Big Year birds, but almost every winter bird that Braden and I work hard to find every year. Well, okay, except for Snowy Owls, Great Gray Owls, Lapland Longspurs, and Snow Buntings. You’ve got to save something for later, right? Even better, I felt like I’d made a new friend in Steve, who is not only an excellent birder, but a pretty darned good guy! Once again, it brings up the adage, “In birding, you just never know—but you won’t unless you keep getting out there!”