Category Archives: Sparrows

In Search of the Green-tailed Towhee

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Confession: Despite the title of this blog, the the main purpose of last weekend was not to find Green-tailed Towhees; it was to learn about a wonderful study of Gray Flycatchers with biologists Jeff Marks and Nate Kohler. However, as I set out Saturday morning, defiant of the grim weather forecast for the next day, I did have a secondary mission in mind—to find and visit with some of the birds in the arid southwest corner of the state. Over the years, these sagebrush areas, from Bear Canyon (see Bear Canyon—Montana’s “Tropical Birding” Paradise) all the way west to Beaverhead County, had become some of my favorite parts of Montana. I credit that partly to my own childhood living in the dry chaparral country of southern California, but I also just love the ecosystems and birds in this part of Montana. I’d have trouble calling myself a real birder if I didn’t get down there at least once each year.

Since you’re pressing me on the issue, I also had a third objective for this trip—to move closer to breaking my all-time one-year species record. The record belonged to 2017, when our family traveled to Ecuador and Peru and I recorded a total of 527 species for the year. This year, thanks to last-minute invitations to Colombia (see THIS POST) and Texas (see THAT POST) I unexpectedly found myself at 498 species—perilously close to setting a new record. That task loomed more difficult than it might appear since once spring migration has passed and breeding season gets underway, it becomes much more difficult to find new species. Still, a trip to the southwest part of Montana promised to nudge me closer to this new goal, and my first target was one of the state’s coolest birds: Green-tailed Towhee.

**On Braden’s advice, my first real birding stops of the trip were along the Jefferson River before Lewis & Clark Caverns.**

Green-tailed Towhees winter in the American Southwest and Mexico, but generally breed in the the Great Basin region of the West, including southern Montana. Though the birds are not strictly rare, I could count the number of times I had ever seen one, and I felt eager for another GTTO encounter. To find this bizarre, poorly understood beauty, I hit I-90 at dawn and steered toward Lewis and Clark Caverns, two-and-a-half hours to the east. To entertain me along the way, I had checked out an audio version of Eat, Pray, Love, a book that invites all kinds of snarky comments but, I found, actually proved moderately amusing. On Braden’s advice, I pulled over alongside the road leading to the caverns and was rewarded with a wonderful assortment of river and cliff birds including Rock Wren, Lazuli Buntings, and White-throated Swifts. Once inside Lewis and Clark Caverns State Park itself, I focused on finding Green-tailed Towhees.

While Lewis & Clark Caverns did not give up its Green-tailed Towhees, I did get nice looks at a Rock Wren and Lark Sparrow.

I struck out. I spent a good hour and a half checking along the road, up around the main parking area, and in the campground. Merlin’s Sound ID picked up a putative GTTO song at one point, but I neither heard nor saw a trace of the bird.

I have to admit that this made me feel like a total failure. I mean, here was my first target bird of the trip, and one that shouldn’t be that hard to find, and I totally “whiffed” on it, as Braden might say. I didn’t plunge into despair exactly, but it definitely put a damper on my mood as I began questioning just what I thought I was doing out here pretending to be a birder! Well, I thought, maybe I’ll have better luck at my next destination.

Which happened to be Birch Creek Road north of Dillon in Beaverhead County. Several years before, Braden and I had found our lifer Thick-billed (formerly McCown’s) Longspur on this road, and once again, the road delivered. I’d driven only a mile before I saw a suspicious dark shape on a fence. I actually didn’t think it was a Thick-billed, but my binoculars revealed otherwise. “Yay!” I exclaimed, feeling the weight of my earlier “whiff” lifting slightly. A few minutes later, I was examining another TBLO when I noticed a large shape sitting in a field about one hundred yards away. “Clearly a hawk,” I thought, “but what kind?” The answer: the best kind, at least for my goals for the trip—a ferruginous hawk. This was another bird I needed for the year and one that isn’t always easy to find in the state.

A desperate flight photo of the Ferruginous Hawk as it flew away.

Digging out the peanut butter sandwich I’d made earlier, I tooled down I-15 for my next destination, Clark Canyon Reservoir. Braden and I had only ever birded here once before, and as near as I recall, we hadn’t found much, so I kept my expectations low. I stopped at one overlook and was surprised to see a Common Loon on the water below, along with a Double-crested Cormorant and a couple of Ring-billed Gulls. Violet-green swallows swirled around me and, as always, they brought a smile.

Snaking around the reservoir, I approached a sign for Horse Prairie Campground and spontaneously swerved left onto a dirt access road. The reason? Tall, healthy-looking sagebrush! Hm, this just might have one of my other target birds for the day. Almost immediately, I saw a really cool bird that had not been on my target list—a Common Nighthawk peacefully chillin’ on the split-rail fence. The bird barely blinked as I fired away with my camera through the car window from only thirty feet away.

**The first of three Common Nighthawks I spotted chilling on the wooden fence leading down to Horse Prairie Campground.**

Creeping slowly forward, I heard a song I didn’t recognize—which was no great surprise in itself, but I did have a guess of what it was. Sound ID confirmed it: Brewer’s Sparrow! This bird loves healthy sagebrush and makes up for the world’s dullest plumage with a vigorous song that bewitches any birdwatcher who hears it. A few moments later, one even sat still long enough for a decent photo. Check. Another target bird—but not the one I expected to find here!

**One of Montana’s drabbest birds, the Brewer’s Sparrow has an enchanting song.**

I kept driving slowly toward the campground and spotted a medium-sized, slender bird up ahead. Wishfully, I thought it might be a Say’s Phoebe—another bird I happened to need for my year list—but it flew off before I got close. As I pulled into the campground, though, two brownish birds were chasing each other around. I assumed they were robins, but when one landed on a “Day Use Only” sign, I realized with a start that it was exactly the bird I had hoped to find here—a Sage Thrasher!

**Sage Thrashers are so flighty that seeing one on a sign was about the last thing I expected!**

Braden and I have never met a thrasher we didn’t like, but Sage Thrashers hold a special place in our birding hearts. For one, they’re the world’s smallest thrashers—which is why I mistook them for robins or phoebes. For another, they are charismatic songsters and often are the most common bird you see in sage country. As I sat in the car, in fact, I counted three more Sage Thrashers around me. Whoo-Hoo!

**One of our favorite Montana birds, Sage Thrashers seemed to be everywhere I looked this afternoon.**

Later, on the road where I was to meet up with Jeff Marks and Nate Kohler, I encountered seven more Sage Thrashers! It was a veritable thrasher party—by far the best experience I had ever had with these good-looking birds.

Unfortunately, the next morning, heavy rain and spitting snow kept me from seeing Gray Flycatchers with Jeff and Nate. More on that in another post. Almost as bad, I began the drive home without a Green-tailed Towhee under my belt and no expectations of seeing one. But bless Nate Kohler’s heart. He told me about a canyon I should check out on the way home. It was still raining when I got there, but I drove slowly and stopped frequently, listening and watching. Lazuli Buntings chattered everywhere and I saw a good variety of birds—but no towhee. Finally, I put on my raincoat, got out of the car and played a Green-tailed Towhee song. Almost immediately, a small shape darted up out of the sagebrush—the bird I was looking for! Not only that, it held still long enough for a photo—but the story hadn’t quite finished.

**I worked hard for this Green-tailed Towhee—only to find that it wasn’t a year bird after all!**

Once I got home and posted all of my checklists for the trip, I was surprised that eBird hadn’t added GTTO to my year list. What’s going on? I thought, and did a quick search to see if I had somehow seen one down in Texas and forgotten about it. Nope. What I did forget was the rare vagrant GTTO I had seen in Victoria, BC during Amy’s and my January trip (see Birding Victoria, BC)! So this one was not a year bird after all, but still a lot of fun to see. Meanwhile, my year list swelled to 503 species thanks to the Thick-billed Longspur, Ferruginous Hawk, Brewer’s Sparrow, Sage Thrasher, and a Prairie Falcon I had spotted the afternoon before. Not exactly the trip I expected, but one I already cherished.

Target Birds and a Shocking Surprise in the Texas Hill Country (Texas 2025 Part 3)

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After spending two glorious birding days along the east Texas & Louisiana coasts (see “Peveto Woods, Louisiana: Spring Migration Hotspot.”), I returned to San Antonio for my four minutes—yes, you read that right—four minutes of work to promote my book Birding for Boomers. While there, I reprised my now-sort-of-famous birding route along San Antonio’s Riverwalk (see our post “Birding San Antonio’s Riverwalk—Are You Nuts?”). Once again, I found birds—but not enough to write another blog about it. As soon as I finished my speaking gig, though, I headed west into the Texas hill country. Why? To try to find two birds Braden and I had talked about our entire birding careers.

Leaving San Antonio, I drove two hours to the hot, fairly flat town of Uvalde and booked myself into a Hampton Inn. That afternoon, I picked up a few nice birds in the town’s Memorial Park including another Yellow-throated Vireo and my first—and only—Green Jay of the trip. I also grabbed an excellent Tex-Mex meal at El Herradero de Jalisco restaurant. The next morning, I hit the road before dawn.

Ah, a good Tex-Mex meal with a “dressed” cerveza is one of many rewards birding offers—one that FSB contributor Roger Kohn will especially appreciate.

One bonus to birding is that we birders invariably get to see spectacular sunrises and sunsets. As I headed north, I witnessed an unforgettable sizzling orange sunrise on one side of the car while an equally spectacular orange full moon set in the west. It boded well for what would be arguably the most important—and most demanding—birding day of my trip: my quest to find Black-capped Vireos and Golden-cheeked Warblers.

Anyone who has been birding for more than a couple of years has probably heard of these two Texas specialties. Of the near-threatened Black-capped Vireo, Braden simply says, “It’s the best vireo.” Quite a statement considering how cool other vireos are! The bird winters in Mexico, and its primary breeding range lies in central Texas—though it technically extends from far northern Mexico to southern Kansas. The endangered Golden-cheeked Warbler winters in Central America and far southern Mexico, but breeds exclusively in central Texas.

**According to eBird lists, Lost Maples State Natural Area is one of the most reliable places to find both Black-capped Vireos and Golden-cheeked Warblers.**

As usual, I felt a bit skeptical of my ability to find these birds. Call it psychological protection against failure. Nonetheless, I did have a plan. After scouring eBird hotspots, bar charts, and birding lists before the trip, I settled on Lost Maples State Natural Area as the most reliable location to find both species. Indeed, when I pulled into the parking lot, I met a couple who had staked out a bush where they had seen a Black-capped Vireo the previous day. “We saw Golden-cheeked Warblers in that tree about fifteen minutes ago,” the woman added, motioning to a nearby oak tree. I briefly pondered waiting around for either species, but the canyon before me beckoned and I reasoned I could hang around the parking lot later if need be.

**I immediately loved Lost Maples, especially since its habitat reminded me of the chaparral and oak woodland I’d grown up with in Southern California.**

I headed up the park’s East Trail and immediately felt at home in the scenic canyon’s xeric landscape full of oaks, junipers, mesquite, and other classic Western vegetation. I also realized that I had tackled some tough birding! Birdsong rang out all around me, but I got few glimpses of actual birds. Thank god for Merlin’s Sound ID, which I ran multiple times to get an idea of what might be around me: an impressive list that included Canyon and Carolina Wrens, Olive Sparrows, Yellow-breasted Chats, and at least four (other) kinds of vireos. Finally, however, “Black-capped Vireo” popped up on Sound ID and I stopped to seriously scour the nearby vegetation. Over the next five minutes, I got a brief glimpse of a Blue-headed Vireo and good looks at a White-eyed Vireo.

**I had to work hard for actual bird sightings at Lost Maples, but managed a great look at a White-eyed Vireo—one of five vireos on my checklist for the day.**

Finally, I saw the distinctive black head and white spectacles of the bird I most hoped to see: a Black-capped Vireo! Soon, I saw another. The birds definitely did not want to strike a pose and I followed them as they flitted almost frantically from bush to tree and tree to bush. I finally managed a couple of ID photos, and then just tried to relax and observe them. It was a good moment, and I felt glad I hadn’t just waited around the parking lot hoping for one to appear.

**I was so glad that I hadn’t waited around the parking lot to find my Lifer Black-capped Vireos!**

That left the Golden-cheeked Warbler. Sound ID had picked it up a couple of times as I hiked the canyon, but it wasn’t until I was back in the park next to my car that I began to figure out the bird’s song. With my imperfect hearing, it sounded like a high-pitched buzzing trill—a lot like an insect, but distinct from any other bird calls around me. Soon, I found myself standing for five minutes directly in front of an oak tree as a Golden-cheeked sang repeatedly.

I never saw it.

This frustrating experience repeated itself several times. I eventually added the bird to my eBird list (“Heard only”), but I was not a happy camper and I thought I might remove it later. As shy as they were, the Black-capped Vireos had been publicity hogs compared to the Golden-cheekeds! Knowing when I was beaten, I headed off to some bird feeders set up in the park about a mile away. There, I tried to console myself with leisurely views of Woodhouse’s Scrub-Jays and Scott’s Orioles. I also told the bird hostess about my lack of success actually seeing a Golden-cheeked Warbler. “Any suggestions?” I asked.

**While pondering my next moves, I spent a pleasant half-hour watching Woodhouse’s Scrub-Jays and Scott’s Orioles at the Lost Maples bird feeders.**

“Well,” she said, “I’d head up the East-West Trail right here until you come to the ponds about a mile on. Just keep scanning the trees as you walk.”

By now, the heat had built into the low 80s. Another hike did not sit high on my priority list, but darn it, I hadn’t come all the way to the Texas hill country for nothing! Slinging my camera and new Vortex Viper 8X42s over my shoulders I resolutely started marching.

Fortunately, a number of beautiful oak trees provided shade to parts of the trail. I kept stopping frequently and soon enough began hearing more Golden-cheeked Warblers. Again, they absolutely refused to be seen, even when I seemed to be standing right in front of them! As I was scouring one oak tree, though, I detected movement and a flash of yellow. My excitement rose . . . but something didn’t look quite right. Finally, I got my binoculars on the bird and I realized what it was. This wasn’t a Golden-cheeked Warbler. For me, it was even better: my lifer Yellow-throated Warbler!

**My Bird of the Day wasn’t actually the Black-capped Vireos or Golden-cheeked Warblers I’d set out to find. It ended up being my Lifer Yellow-throated Warbler—a complete surprise!**

I couldn’t have been more thrilled. On other trips, I had hoped to see one of these birds multiple times without success, but today, it hadn’t even been on my radar! The bird was every bit as beautiful as a Golden-cheeked, and a quick look at the Merlin app confirmed that I was indeed within its breeding range—but just barely. According to Cornell’s Birds of the World, it has a relatively small, disjunct breeding range in central Texas separate from its more extensive breeding range across the Southeast. While fortunately not endangered or threatened, this bird had assumed an almost mythical status in my mind and to see it now . . . well, it felt exhilarating.

**I felt both grateful and relieved to finally see a single Golden-cheeked after multiple GCWAs had taunted me all day!**

Long story short: I finally spotted a single Golden-cheeked Warbler after spending almost an hour standing in front of trees where one or another GCWA sat singing and taunting me. While I had hoped to add just the Black-capped Vireo and Golden-cheeked Warbler to my life list during my entire Texas week, I had now seen an amazing seven lifers. Even better, having tracked down the BCVI and GCWA, I now had the entire next day to pursue one more. Check out the next post for details!

Shopping for a great new pair of binoculars that are reasonably priced? Be sure to check out our recent (unpaid!) review of Vortex Viper HDs by clicking here!

Owl’s Watch Ecolodge (Colombia Birding Part 2)

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As light spread across the sky, I slipped on my flip-flops and ventured out onto the porch of our cabin at Owl’s Watch Ecolodge in the department (county) of Caldas, Colombia. Misty clouds clung to the Andean peaks surrounding us. Far below rose the high-rise apartments and businesses of Manizales, a city of almost half a million. Unidentified bird calls rang across the vegetation surrounding us and a couple of flocks of Eared Doves flew by on a morning commute. Suddenly, I saw a shape that stirred familiarity. It landed in a distant tree, but thanks to my amazing new binoculars, I was able to focus in on it. Even though I knew very little about Colombian birds, the way it clung to the side of the tree made me think, “Woodpecker.” Then, I caught a reddish hue on its nape and back, and my excitement rose. When it turned its head, it revealed a large white face patch that clinched the ID. I couldn’t believe it. In my first moments of serious birding in Colombia, I had found one of the birds I most wanted to see: a Crimson-mantled Woodpecker!

It’s risky to post such a crummy photo of a Crimson-mantled Woodpecker as the post’s very first bird shot, but it highlights how difficult it often is to photograph birds in tropical forests—a topic I’ll discuss in a forthcoming post.

As mentioned in my last post, “Layover Birding in Bogota, Colombia”, I had traveled to South America at the last-minute invitation of my friend and FSB contributor, Roger Kohn. Now, only two weeks later, I felt in awe of the fact that we were actually here, about to launch into our first Colombian day of birding together.

**One of the two luxurious cabins at Owl’s Watch, with great views of the surrounding landscape. As popularity of the lodge blossoms, Dennis is considering adding additional cabins.**

Roger had planned our entire itinerary, which included booking our first four nights here at Owl’s Watch, a comfortable new lodge with two modern cabins perched at the edge of a large, protected watershed that ensured a dependable water supply for the city of Manizales below. The lodge had been built by American expat Dennis Bailey and his Colombian wife, Adriana. Interested in restoring land that had been cleared for agricultural activities, they had purchased a farm, or finca, that was an inholding of the nearby protected area. As they worked to revegetate the land and allow it to heal itself, they decided to build Owl’s Watch for nature lovers—especially birders.

The following day, we would be heading out with a guide, but today Roger had wisely allocated time for us to bird and explore on our own—a day to get familiar with some of the local birds and rest up from our two-day journeys from the States. I’m more of an early riser than Roger, but to my surprise, he soon joined me on the porch, eager to get started.

**One of the amazing things about Owl’s Watch is that you are able to gaze down on Manizales, a city of almost half a million people, while being surrounded by nature.**

We decided to begin by climbing the long steep “driveway” that headed up from the lodge to the road above. Almost immediately we saw large turkey-like birds that, from taking eBird quizzes, I recognized as Sickle-winged Guans. Moments later, I glimpsed a furtive shape fly across an opening and dive into a bush—a White-naped Brushfinch.

At the top of the drive, we reached a small parking area bristling with even more activity. In the trees surrounding the area, we quickly identified the orange head of a Blackburnian Warbler, and then got super excited to see a pair of equally small birds with bold, sunburst golden throats and breasts—Golden-fronted Redstarts!

**Golden-fronted Redstarts, a New World warbler, were one of our exciting finds from our first day of birding at Owl’s Watch.**

As I chased these around, Roger used Sound ID to get onto a bird I never thought we would see, Azara’s Spinetail. Its call sounded like “bis-QUICK! bis-Quick!” and while we never got great looks at it, we were thrilled to get a glimpse of this handsome, skulky species.

Collared Inca (named after me and Braden)

From the parking area, we headed down a pleasant trail that would wind its way back to the to the main lodge building, dubbed “the Social.” Soon, a covered viewing platform came into sight and we paused to check out hummingbirds at the feeders and flowering bushes surrounding the spot. Someday, I’ll write about my ambivalence about hummingbirds, but I gotta say, they were spectacular to watch. What got me most excited was seeing a White-sided Flowerpiercer. I’d seen my very first flowerpiercer only the day before in Bogota, and here I was, looking at a second species the very next day!

Though not as colorful as many other tropical birds, I was especially excited to discover this White-sided Flowerpiercer. Notice the hook at the end of the bill? That’s a key to picking out flowerpiercers from other small tropical birds.

We continued hiking down the trail, past the Secret Garden, another great birdwatching spot Dennis had set up. Along the way, I spotted a rather plain brown bird that I quickly recognized as a Swainson’s Thrush. As I indicated in my last post, it’s a special thrill to see a bird from “back home” in its alternative, wintering environment. I also took a photo of a nondescript bird that turned out to be a Mountain Elaenia, a kind of tyrant flycatcher.

**Don’t get me wrong. I am NOT an expert at identifying flycatchers, but a guide and the Merlin app helped me figure out this Mountain Elaenia.**

Soon, we found ourselves back at the Social. David, the fabulous Owl’s Watch cook, fixed us a scrumptious breakfast and we dined while enjoying yet more hummingbirds—at least nine species—along with more flowerpiercers, Rufous-collared Sparrows, and Great Thrushes.

Along with the hummingbird feeders, Dennis’s crew had set up a fruit feeder off to the side, and there we beheld one of the most spectacular of the area’s birds, Blue-winged Mountain Tanagers.

**Blue-winged Mountain Tanagers were definitely one of the “best-dressed” birds of our first day birding at Owl’s Watch.**

After we got our fill of hummingbirds (if that’s even possible), we took another path that wound around to our cabin. Before our trip, Braden had encouraged me to listen for weird noises, and now I did indeed hear a very bizarre, almost plaintive, series of falling notes. As we rounded a corner, we met the source of these calls—a Masked Trogon! Trogons are some of those birds you always hope to see in the tropics, but when you finally do, you’re left wondering if the bird is really perched there in front of you, or if you’re just imagining it! Fortunately, this was no mirage, and even better, it sat cooperatively while Roger and I did our best to capture decent photos of it against the backlit sky. How did we do? You will have to judge for yourself:

**Even this so-so photo reveals what stunning birds Masked Trogons are. While this was our best look at this species of the trip, other trogons would soon follow!**

Note: This blog post—and all others on FatherSonBirding—are written by REAL PEOPLE! No compensation or gratuities were provided to us in connection with this post. If you’d like to support FSB, please consider buying one—or ten—of Sneed’s books and contributing to a bird conservation organization of your choice. Thank you!

Layover Birding in Bogota, Colombia

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“Call me asap,” Roger’s text read. A few minutes later, I dialed his number. “What’s up?”

The answer: a chance of a lifetime.

As faithful FSB readers know, Roger is a longtime friend of mine from UC Berkeley, and a guest contributor to FatherSonBirding. More than six months ago Roger and his wife, Claudia, began planning a dream birding trip to the world’s epicenter of awesome birding—the country of Colombia. How awesome is Colombia? Well, during the Global Big Day of birding each year, Colombia regularly kicks butt on all challengers. In 2024, its birders recorded an astounding 1558 species in a single 24-hour period—more than twice the number of the US despite submitting only about 15% of the number of checklists. It is widely considered to have the highest biodiversity per square meter of any country on earth.

Sadly, Colombia has a long history of violence that has made it mostly off-limits to birders for decades. That began to change in 2016, when a peace agreement was signed between the government and FARC, the military wing of the Colombian Communist Party. Violence still racks some parts of the country, but that has not prevented a growing number of birders from seizing the chance to visit one of the world’s most spectacular ecological regions. About six months ago, Roger decided to join those growing ranks. He and Claudia mapped out a two-week trip that would include a feast of birding opportunities. However, as the great oracle of our time, Neil Young, sang, “The devil fools with the best-laid plans.” Two weeks before their trip, Claudia was forced to cancel, and Roger asked if I wanted to fill her slot. With a quick nod from Amy and the urging of Tessa, it took me about two minutes to decide.

The plan was to meet up in the Andean city of Pereira to begin our birding adventure (of which I’ll write much more later). Roger planned to fly from his home in Bend, Oregon to Miami and spend the night; then fly to Pereira via Panama City the following day. Being a Delta Airlines loyalist, I left a day earlier, spent the night in Atlanta and then flew to Bogota for a night. This excited me greatly because it would give me a morning to myself before catching a flight to Pereira to meet Roger. Gee, what oh what might I do with that morning?

Not by accident, I booked a room in the Hotel Capital, strategically located a short taxi ride to two major birding possibilities. Rising early, I wolfed down a granola bar for breakfast and then caught a cab to Parque Metropolitano Simón Bolívar, one of the world’s largest urban parks. In my atrocious Spanish, I told the cab driver of my interest in birds and he dropped me off at the SW corner of the park near a large central lake. I had worried a bit about carrying my camera and binoculars in this unfamiliar city, but my hotel concierge had assured me the park would be safe. Sure enough, I was relieved to see a steady stream of joggers, dog walkers, and cyclists taking advantage of a beautiful sunny morning. But what of the birds?

As I walked toward the lake, I saw plenty of Great Thrushes and Eared Doves, and Sound ID picked up the songs of Rufous-collared Sparrows, a bird Braden and I had become friends with on our family trip to Ecuador and Peru in 2017.

Like a birder magnet, however, the lake drew me forward. When approaching a large body of water like this, I always look for legions of water birds to be gracing the water, and in Japan and last year’s trip to Barcelona, that had indeed been the case. Not today. Evidently, ducks just aren’t as big a deal in the tropics as in temperate zones. I did spot what looked like a domestic hybrid duck of some sort, accompanied by a much smaller bird, and I focused in on the latter for the day’s first surprise—a Pied-billed Grebe! “I didn’t know they lived this far south,” I thought. Indeed, I later learned that in the Americas, Pied-billed Grebes have the largest distribution of any grebe, stretching from mid-Canada almost to the tip of South America.

**Pied-billed Grebes have the widest distribution of any American grebes.**

A hundred meters farther, I caught movement in bushes and discovered one of the real prizes of my outing—a mixed flock of warblers! And not just any warblers, but three species that breed in the eastern US. One revealed a brilliant splash of orange on its face. Can you guess which one it was? That’s right—Blackburnian Warbler! It was accompanied by several Tennessee Warblers and my first look at an actual Rufous-collared Sparrow.

As I followed the flock around, I got an even bigger surprise—a bonafide American Redstart. “Wow!” I said out loud, trying to get a photo of one of everyone’s favorite warblers.

From the main “parky park,” I crossed a pedestrian bridge over jammed up morning traffic and entered a sprawling sports complex.

**You’ll be relieved to learn that Colombia has the same kinds of traffic problems as we do!**

Soccer players were warming up, track and field athletes ran around a track, and tennis players smacked balls back and forth. Next to the walking path, a pair of familiar-looking black-and-white birds hopped up onto a sign. It didn’t take me long to figure out they were Tropical Mockingbirds—the only ones I would see on the trip! Then, a familiar, largish bird flew noisily by and disappeared over the wall into a stadium. Here, Braden’s and my travels to Israel paid off. Southern Lapwing! my mind immediately shouted. My real destination, though, lay just ahead.

**Look familiar? It didn’t take me long to figure out that this handsome fellow was a Tropical Mockingbird.**

I paid two bucks to enter the Jardin Botanico de Bogota—which, like the sporting complex, was technically part of the Simón Bolívar Park—and asked a greeter where I might find birds. Then, I set off to explore. My first find? Gorgeous Purple Gallinules. Hummingbirds also flew by, but knowing just how many hummers fill South America, I wasn’t psychologically ready to tackle those just yet.

**It’s hard not to be impressed with the technicolor plumage of Purple Gallinules.**

Continuing on alongside a wooded area, I spotted a bright red shape about twenty feet high on a branch—my first South American Summer Tanager! I saw another traveler staring up into the trees and walked over to introduce myself. “My name is Edwin,” he told me, along with the fact that he was from the Netherlands. “Are you seeing anything?” I asked him. “Yes, but I don’t know what they are,” he confided. I got my eyes on fast-moving, small shapes and recognized another Blackburnian Warbler, along with what I think were more Tennessee Warblers. I told Edwin what I was seeing.

“Hey, did you see the Summer Tanager?” I asked, and his eyes widened. “No!” So I led him back to where I’d spotted it, relieved to finding it still perched, evidently being well-paid by the botanical gardens staff to stay in place.

**I had hoped to see some of our northern birds in their southern wintering grounds, but didn’t expect to see a Summer Tanager in downtown Bogota!**

By this time, I was only up to about twenty species, which seemed like a rather poor showing for a morning in a brand new tropical country, even if I was in a major city. Only one of those species, Shiny Cowbird, was a lifer. Even worse, it was about time for me to flag down a cab and make my way back to the hotel so that I could shower, pack, and get to the airport for my flight to Pereira. Before leaving the gardens, however, I decided to make one last stop where I had seen the gallinules. Suddenly, I detected a small bird flitting among some flowers, and my pulse picked up. I didn’t know what it was, but got some decent ID shots of it. As I zoomed in on one of my photos, a smile spread across my face. It was a flowerpiercer—the first I had ever knowingly seen! Later, I consulted with Braden and we agreed that it was a beautiful little species called a Rusty Flowerpiercer.

**I was thrilled to find this Rusty Flowerpiercer, the first flowerpiercer I’d ever identified on my own.**

It was a great way to finish off a fun morning of layover birding in a new country. It also laid the groundwork for what would promise to be an adventurous—sometimes too adventurous—next couple of weeks.

**Oh, wait, did I forget to mention the giant Harpy Eagle I saw in Bogota’s Botanical Gardens?**

Birding in Oaxaca, Mexico (report by Braden Collard)

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As our final post for February, we feature a glimpse of Braden’s amazing winter break trip to Oaxaca (pronounced “wah-HA-kah”), Mexico with our friend, and now birding guide, Nick Ramsey. If you like tropical birds, we’ve got more treats coming your way—but we won’t spill the bird seed just yet. Meanwhile, if you’d like to support FatherSonBirding, please consider buying some of Sneed’s books—or supporting a bird conservation group of your choice (see our post “Saving Birds. It’s Time.”).

No words can capture the feelings of shock and disbelief that Nick Ramsey, Garrett Rhyne, Eugene Huryn and I felt when an adult male Red Warbler materialized in a bush in front of us. We’d originally pulled over to admire the view of Oaxaca City from several thousand feet up and, no surprise, had begun to notice birds the instant we got out of our rental car. Nick, who had been birding and traveling around northern Central America and Mexico for the last few weeks, pointed out the distinct high-pitched call of a Mexican Violetear, hidden somewhere in the foliage below us. Downslope, a large mixed flock of warblers was passing through, and we started to pick out species as they foraged on the ends of conifer branches—Hermit Warblers, Townsend’s Warblers, Olive Warblers, a Mexican Chickadee—species that birders could find in the western United States. Then the Red Warbler appeared, and we all lost our minds as we scrambled to take pictures of it against its light green backdrop.

**One look at a Red Warbler and you know why we lost our minds seeing it!**

Camino la Cumbre, the road we’d turned onto ten minutes earlier, is one of Oaxaca’s more famous birding locations, and for good reason. As we continued driving up the road, which featured tall pine trees growing alongside ten-foot tall century plants, we stopped any time we heard or saw birds, which was often. Collared Towhees, White-eared Hummingbirds, Brown-backed Solitaires and more species we had on our target lists made appearances alongside the road, in habitat not all that different from what you might see in the middle elevations of California’s Sierra Nevada. Besides the Red Warblers, though, our biggest targets were a pair of species known for traveling together—one of the world’s largest wrens and one of the world’s smallest jays. The Gray-barred Wrens didn’t take long to find, and we bumped into several flocks of them, not skulking close to the ground like many US wrens do, but fifteen feet up in oak trees, picking through epiphytes in search of insects.

**One of our biggest first-day targets, Gray-barred Wrens, proved easy to find. One of the world’s largest wrens, they are surprisingly visible at mid-tree level.**

As we wound higher and higher up the road, the birds improved—as did the view of Oaxaca City below us. We’d flown in the previous day, and spent that evening and the following morning stalking through the scrubby, lowland habitat in search of other specialty birds, endemic only to dry valleys in south-central Mexico: Dwarf Vireo, Ocellated Thrasher, Bridled Sparrow. We’d been planning the six-day trip, which fell perfectly into my winter break, for several months, but only at the Dallas Fort-Worth Airport had I met Garrett and Eugene for the first time. Nick knew them from his time at LSU, and had brought us all together to see a small portion of the birds Mexico had to offer. And boy, did Mexico have a lot of birds to offer.

**Bridled Sparrows remind one of the Five-striped and Black-throated Sparrows many US birders eagerly chase through Arizona.**

The Mexican state of Oaxaca is positioned so that it includes both the dry tropical forest of the Pacific and the rainforests of the Caribbean. More importantly, it is home to a variety of mountain ranges and dry valleys, each far enough apart so that different bird species can be found in each area. This diverse array of habitats means that Oaxaca is one of the most diverse areas in Mexico, and we planned to see the full extent of this diversity on our intense six-day itinerary.

**We at FatherSonBirding always feel gratified that so many birds are named after us, including this Collard, I mean, Collared Towhee.**

Camino la Cumbre was a major target area, and after an hour or so, we rounded a particularly foggy bend in the road, got out of the car, and laid eyes on our other major target: Dwarf Jays. Dwarf Jays are only known from the pine-oak woodland in the mountains north of Oaxaca, and thus the species was quite high on our target list. These tiny blue corvids were in the company of several Gray-barred Wrens as well as a Chestnut-sided Shrike-Vireo, a vireo that has evolved incredibly similar plumage to a Chestnut-sided Warbler, and we watched the mixed flock forage for a while, in awe of these birds we’d only seen in books before. We snagged a few more pine-oak species, including a beautiful male Bumblebee Hummingbird and a pair of particularly skulky Golden-browed Warblers, then continued north to our next birding location. In the following days, we would be driving down and then up the side of another mountain range into the cloud forest, then down into the rainforests of the Caribbean slope.

**I unfortunately did not get a photo of a Dwarf Jay, so this Unicolor Jay will have to do!**

Almost as exciting as the number of life birds all four of us were getting were the huge quantities of North American birds we saw at every stop! When I’d been in Costa Rica (see Braden’s post on El Copal and his other Costa Rica posts), the common neotropical migrants were eastern birds like Chestnut-sided Warbler and Wood Thrush, species that I’d gotten to know the summer before in Pennsylvania. But in southern and western Oaxaca? Half the birds were Montana species! In several locations we came across triple-digit numbers of Violet-green Swallows, as well as roving mixed flocks of orioles and Western Tanagers. Our first morning of birding yielded a group of more than a hundred Cassin’s Kingbirds, and we found MacGillivray’s, Wilson’s, and Orange-crowned Warblers foraging low in bushes while Townsend’s and Hermit Warblers hunted higher up, near the tops of pine trees.

These species reminded us that Mexico is, after all, a part of North America, even though American birders and citizens seem to forget that frequently. The birds and habitats in parts of Oaxaca mirror what you might encounter on a warm February day in southeastern Arizona. Plus, ABA birders spend hundreds and thousands of dollars driving and flying across the country to see rarities like Slate-throated Redstart or southern Texas specialties like Altamira Oriole . . . and yet, for a similar amount of money, they can fly just a little bit farther to where these birds are not only common but joined by hundreds of other spectacular tropical species. If there’s one thing I was sure of, even on Day One of our Oaxaca trip, it’s that I would be coming back to Mexico.

**Our Oaxacan Birding Crew (left to right: Eugene, Garrett, Nick, and Braden) on Camino la Cumbre.**

This post is written, photographed, and edited by human beings!