Category Archives: Urban Birding

Birding Japan: Tokyo, Part I

Since we published them, our birding posts about Japan have been read in more than a dozen countries. If you are planning your own trip to Japan, you’re in luck! Sneed’s new book, FIRST-TIME JAPAN: A STEP-BY-STEP GUIDE FOR THE INDEPENDENT TRAVELER, tells you everything you need to know about how to plan your trip to this remarkable, yet sometimes intimidating, country. Order now by clicking here.

Well, I warned you it would be a while before you heard from us again, but we hope you find the reasons acceptable. Braden has been chasing salamanders and frogs in Maine while I have spent the last three weeks with my daughter, Tessa, in Japan! We had dreamed of visiting the Land of the Rising Shopping Mall for many years, and the country and people delivered in every way. While birding was not the purpose of the trip, you might guess that I took advantage of every opportunity to get to know Japan’s avian wildlife—experiences I’d like to share in the next few posts, starting with the focal point of Japanese civilization, Tokyo.

While disguised as a train station, Tokyo Station is actually a small city in itself—and the transportation hub for Birding Central HQ during our stay.

While we planned to visit several Japanese locations, Tessa and I agreed that we wanted to spend the most time in Tokyo. Accordingly, we reserved five days there on the front end of the trip and four days to finish up our journey. Wrapping our heads around such an incredibly large and diverse city proved a challenge, but after much research I booked our first hotel near Tokyo Station. Mind you, this is no ordinary train station. Trains for hundreds of destinations come in and out of the place and the station itself is a vast, entertaining commercial complex featuring hundreds of shops and restaurants, many lined along extensive underground “streets”. The area also happened to make a pretty good headquarters to begin birding.

On our first day there, we worked in a visit to Hamarikyu Gardens in between Tsukiji Outer Market (former home of the famous tuna auctions) and Tokyo Tower. While Tessa enjoyed a park bench in the sun, I quickly snapped up six life birds including Eastern Spot-billed Duck, Common Pochard, Tufted Duck, Oriental Goldfinch, White-cheeked Starling, and Brown-eared Bulbul. I was especially taken with the bulbul—only to find that apparently it is the most commonly observed bird in Japan! Still, I didn’t let that dampen my enthusiasm for these noisy, beautiful birds.

My first day of Japan birding, I was so excited to see my first Brown-eared Bulbul, a bird that I’d been studying assiduously. Little did I know that it’s probably the most common bird in Japan!

Because of the 15-hour time difference with Montana, I woke at 3 a.m. the next day, and as soon as it got light I let Tessa sleep in and walked over to the Imperial Palace a few blocks away. The grounds were still closed, but I began exploring the moat around the walls and some potentially birdy parks across the street. Right away, I saw a Little Grebe, and then the discoveries grew even more exciting. I saw a small, greenish bird flitting around some bushes—another life bird, Warbling White-eye! Continuing my prowl, I discovered two more lifers—Falcated Duck and Dusky Thrush, two species I had studied intensively before the trip. They put me in a great mood before we went to watch the Yokohama BayStars defeat the Yomiuri Giants 1-0 in the Tokyo Dome that afternoon!

I should pause at this point and say that besides wanting to see Japan’s birds, I had another ulterior motive for birding. When we left Montana, my life list stood at 968 species—perilously close to 1,000. Maybe, just maybe, I thought, I can crack 1,000 while in Japan. In fact, looking over what I might see, I felt fairly confident about meeting that goal—something that spurred me to take advantage of every opportunity.

Falcated Ducks were a new species I studied before heading to Japan. After seeing them on Day 2, I had no idea this would be the only time I’d see them on the entire trip.

On the third full day of our adventure, Tessa and I planned to head over to Tokyo Disney to try to score tickets. We did get some and visited the Disney Sea park—but that’s another story. More important, we stopped at perhaps Tokyo’s best birding location, Kasai Rinkai Park. As we got off the train, the reason this park is birdier than others seemed evident: it is one of the few Tokyo locations with remotely natural habitat. Tessa got some of her now-favorite milk tea from a vending machine and settled in to draw on a bench while I hurried off to see what might be living there.

I had not yet met any Japanese birders, but a couple of hundred meters down the trail, a woman with binoculars and a camera saw me looking for birds and silently pointed into reeds next to a pond. “Arigato gozaimasu,” I whispered and crept toward where she was pointing. Sure enough, a half a dozen small brown birds were gleaning seeds and once again, my study paid off. They were Reed Buntings—birds I had hoped, but not expected, to see!

I left my good camera at home for this trip, opting for a lighter “travel camera” that unfortunately didn’t produce the sharp bird images I craved, but I was still delighted to get a photo of this male Reed Bunting who is obviously shouting something important at me.

Continuing down the trails I made more discoveries including Japanese Tits and Masked Buntings, both also lifers! Then, walking along the water, I spotted two suspicious shapes about one hundred meters offshore. As I grew closer, the shapes resolved into what has to be one of Earth’s most gorgeous, elegant water birds, Great Crested Grebes!

Despite this lousy photo, you can probably get an idea of why I was so excited to see my first Great Crested Grebes!

As I went back to meet Tessa, I was happy with what I had found, but I also knew I had missed some important species here that I would probably not get a second shot at. These included Azure-winged Magpie and any kinds of shorebirds. No matter. I felt grateful for this look at Japanese nature and optimistic for the days to come!

Sneed’s Kasai Rinkai Park eBird checklist.

All “Cooped” Up!

Today, we take a break from Braden’s High Sierra adventures to explore how we all bird through the summer doldrums. Here I share a surprising discovery right in my own neighborhood. If you subscribe to FSB, please share your own similar story, and if you don’t subscribe—what are you waiting for? We only sell your information to people who will give us a LOT of money (just kidding; we do not share any of this information). So please fill out the box down to the right—and make sure you receive every “episode”.

How are you spending the summer birding doldrums? When we first started, Braden and I pretty much stopped birding during July and August—until we learned that there are still many birds to be had during the Dog Days! Even though it’s still summer, some shorebirds are already making their way south from their Arctic breeding grounds and can show up almost anywhere. Last summer, Braden and Nick Ramsey joined a bunch of other stellar birders for an epic day at Glacier National Park—and, of course, this summer Braden is birding the heck out of California. As for me, I am simply enjoying the ordinary birds around Missoula, trying to sharpen my skills so I can distinguish the call of a Lazuli Bunting from that of a Yellow Warbler! Experienced birders know, however, that even “ordinary birding” can produce extraordinary results.

Even during the Summer Blahs, an occasional bird will fly out for a photo-op! Thank you, Mr. Lazuli Bunting!

A couple of weeks ago, I decided to take our dog Lola on an early walk around Greenough Park to beat the heat. For those of you familiar with Greenough, Lola and I parked in the lot midway up the east side of the park, and crossed the two pedestrian bridges so that we could begin walking clockwise around the park—and better spot any caffeine-crazed bicyclists barreling down on us. Sure enough, after only a hundred yards on the main path, a large, crazed shape came right at us. But it wasn’t a bicycle. It was a bird—and it zoomed a mere ten feet above my head! On instinct, I spun around and chased after it, hoping for a solid ID before it disappeared. To my surprise, the bird swooped up into a tree only fifty meters away.

Even while not actively hanging with the chicks, at least one Cooper’s Hawk parent never perched far away.

By this time, I had 99% concluded that this was a Cooper’s Hawk—a kind of accipiter especially adapted for catching birds and flying through trees. According to Birds of the World, 47 species of accipiters live on the planet, but here in the U.S. we have only three: the smaller Sharp-shinned Hawk or “Sharpie”; the larger Cooper’s Hawk or “Coop”; and the Northern Goshawk, our largest accipiter and the bird Braden is chasing around the Sierras this summer. Braden and I don’t often get good looks at Coops so I hoped that this one would stay in the tree long enough for me to observe it. It did—and the reason startled me. In a pine next to the busy path, the Cooper’s Hawk couple had built a nest! Even better, the nest had babies!

During my second visit to the Coop nest, the babies generally kept their heads down—save for this guy. Want to bet s/he is first out of the nest?

I, of course, hadn’t brought my camera with me, but in a way that was better because it allowed me to observe the action without worrying about getting a good photo. Speaking of action, I forgot to mention that when the adult flew by me it had been carrying prey—something large and furry, maybe a rabbit. As I watched, the adult started butchering this critter and feeding it to the ravenous chicks. And speaking of chicks, I was amazed to see four of them—and all quite large. Later, I learned that this is not unusual, and a pair will sometimes raise even more, a testament to the hard-working parents. In fact, even though first-year mortality runs fairly high, Cooper’s Hawks seem to have an excellent survival rate as adults and have been known to breed up through twelve years of age.

Incoming! On my third visit, I just loved watching the young Coops testing out their flying abilities—even if they did occasionally land on each other!

Since discovering the nest, I’ve returned two more times, and each time the babies had made marked progress. My last visit, I watched them hopping in and out of the nest, testing their wings for a departure that couldn’t have been more than a couple of weeks away. They also were quickly filling out their juvenile coloration, transforming from white fuzz balls to serious-looking predators before my eyes. At least one parent, though, was never far away.

Ready for launch? Pretty darned close. Observing the Coop nest made me realize that the young have blue eyes! How’s that for a blue-eyed baby?

It all just goes to show that even when we think birding is dead, there’s a lot going on. We just have to keep getting out there and paying attention. Who knows? You may have a Cooper’s nest in your backyard right now! Coops are famously adaptable and found in every region of the Lower 48, often in urban environments and often all year-round. In fact, their numbers have increased dramatically in the past half-century—a nice success story in a time when so many birds are in trouble.

Golf and Birding

Welcome to our new subscribers! We appreciate your interest in our adventures and experiences, and hope you feel free to share this post with others. If you’d like to support FatherSonBirding, feel free to order some of Sneed’s books from online stores or, better yet, by through your local independent bookstore. Thanks, and have a great weekend! Next week: more of Braden’s High Sierra adventures!

Did you ever stop to think that the words “golf” and “bird” both have the same number of letters in them? No? Good. It’s a stupid lead to a blog. Plus, golf is a sensitive subject for me. In my mid-thirties, I began playing with friends and found I quite enjoyed it. Sort of. In between the tears and swearing and bouts of hopelessness and low self-esteem. After my golf swing betrayed me once and for all, in fact, I tossed my clubs into the basement to collect dust for the better part of a decade. Foolishness springs eternal, however, and a few years ago I began a ritual of golfing once a year with a buddy—only to discover an aspect of golf I had never before recognized: Birds.

Many golf courses’ locations adjacent to wetlands and other natural habitats give them a wide range of opportunity for the golfing birder!

When I golfed in earlier years, Braden and I hadn’t yet become birders. Imagine my surprise, then, when I got back onto the links to discover that birds abounded—at least at Linda Vista Golf Course, my favorite course in the area (and one that happens to have a great cafe). I realized, in fact, that this course could actually be one of the best birding spots in Missoula. The problem? It is challenging to golf and record birds at the same time, and I have to thread a fine line so that my buddy doesn’t brain me with a 4-iron while I’m trying to figure out which kinds of swallows are circling around us. This dilemma, however, gave me an idea—one that I finally carried out last week: to get permission to bird the course sans clubs one morning before the golfers showed up.

Even with the distractions of actually playing a round of golf, I had managed to record 25 species of birds a couple of days earlier. These had included surprises such as Cinnamon Teal and Red-naped Sapsucker. I wonder what I’ll find with more time to study my surroundings? I asked myself as I again headed out two days later.

Almost immediately, it became evident that there were greater numbers of birds than I had noticed before. The Yellow Warblers were particularly insane with a new one spouting off every twenty or thirty yards—about the distance of a short pitching wedge. This made sense because part of what made this course such a great birding spot is that it was shoe-horned between river and wetlands on two sides and farm/pasture on another. Along with the Yellow Warblers I noted an abundance of Red-winged Blackbirds and Gray Catbirds—but was also surprised by an absence of Common Yellowthroats and dearth of Song Sparrows. Hm . . . maybe they were just quieting down for the season?

Spotted Sandpipers are always a welcome sight—though I’m not sure the plastic sheeting around this pond made it a great choice for this bird.

Continuing around to the third hole, I came across several open ponds where I was pleased to see at least seven Wood Ducks, Killdeer, a Spotted Sandpiper, and a pair of Ring-necked Ducks, an unlikely find for the time of year. One of the delights of birding a place that doesn’t get much attention is the frequency of red “unreported” dots that appear on the eBird checklist. The Killdeer were unreported and while I was logging species on eBird, another unreported species, Double-crested Cormorant, flew by. I devoted a good ten minutes to figuring out swallows and quickly noted Tree and Northern Rough-winged. As my binoculars pin-balled back and forth, however, I made another great discovery: Bank Swallows! Braden and I love finding these because they always seem to pop up when we least expect it, and this morning they followed tradition!

Double-crested Cormorants were one of several species that earned me a coveted red “Unreported” dot on eBird!

The rest of my birding round yielded nothing that will upend the scientific community, but proved mightily enjoyable nonetheless. While talking to the lone golfer out this early in the day, I spotted a gorgeous male Western Tanager. A Bullock’s Oriole also flew by. Over on the pasture side of the course, Eastern Kingbirds abounded and Cliff Swallows replaced the Bank Swallows zooming around me. I finished the day with 33 species—not dramatically more than I had found while actually golfing, but I had savored every tee, fairway, and green.

One of the fun things about my round of birding was the number of juveniles about—including this young Eastern Kingbird waiting to be fed by a nearby parent.

Speaking of golfing, I did notice an odd phenomenon while doing the round with my buddy two days earlier. I actually played better than I had in recent memory. It may have been that I had forgotten my bad habits, but I think that the birds actually helped. One of my problems with golf is that I overthink everything. Instead of just hitting the ball, I am telling myself Remember to tuck in your hip as you draw back or Keep that left foot planted and your elbow straight. With half of my mind on birds, I didn’t have time to do that—and hit some of my best shots in years. The lesson? There isn’t one. Just get out there and keep birding, wherever you happen to be.

Note: if you would like to bird your local course, be sure to ask permission—and it obviously wouldn’t hurt if you already golf that course yourself. With the manager, discuss the best time to go out and stay polite even if she/he/they says no. After all, golf courses generally are money-making ventures and they have real customers to take care of. But speaking of that, I can’t help wondering if any particularly birdy courses have considered charging a modest fee to people who would like to bird them? Especially for courses that adopt green practices such as using less water, pesticides, and fertilizers, it might be a great way to earn a bit of extra income while promoting sustainability. Just a thought.

Arizona 2022, Part 1: Braden’s Big Year or Bust

It’s been a while since we posted, and that’s no accident. When Braden landed a field job monitoring Northern Goshawks in California’s Sierras for the summer, I impulsively offered to drive him there—via Arizona and Southern California. We had wanted to return to Arizona since falling in love with the state during our Big Year in 2016. The fact that Braden was out to smash his own Big Year record with a goal of 400 species made the argument even stronger, especially after he and Nick Ramsey had ransacked the state of Florida only weeks before, followed by our amazing time birding New York City. So on May 22, rashly ignoring the price of gasoline, Braden and I made a beeline down Interstate 15, pulling over to pick up Thick-billed Longspurs near Dillon, Sage Thrashers and Rock Wrens in southern Idaho, and Burrowing Owls and phalaropes at Antelope Island near Salt Lake City. After a short, peaceful night in Kanab and a stop to ogle the rapidly disappearing Lake Powell, we rolled into Phoenix for our first major Arizona stop of the trip: Prospector Park, east of Phoenix.

We found Rock Wrens at a delightful I-15 rest area of lava called Hell’s Half Acre in southern Idaho. Don’t pass it up!

As usual, Braden ferreted out our hotspots for the trip and Prospector Park blew away all expectations. An unlikely-looking suburban park with playing fields and lots of lawn, we tumbled out of the car and began racking up Life Birds before we could utter “Holy Bird, Batman!” As soon as he raised his binoculars to his eyes, Braden called out “Abert’s Towhee!” Five minutes later, “Gilded Flicker”—the last ABA woodpecker I needed for my Life List. This was not to mention the gobs of Year Birds Braden needed to advance toward his magic 400 number. In fact, one of the great things about Arizona is that for Montanans, almost every bird we see is likely to be a Year Bird. Verdin, Ladder-backed and Gila Woodpeckers, Vermillion Flycatcher, Lucy’s Warbler, Gambel’s Quail, Curved-billed Thrasher—and another Lifer, Bendire’s Thrasher. For a birder, Arizona truly is a pot ‘o gold.

Gilded Flicker was a species I had needed for several years to complete my ABA woodpecker list. Okay, I admit it—not the most exciting critter, but we both enjoyed seeing it nonetheless.

Not for the first time, one of our most fun finds turned out not to be a native species, but an exotic. We were completing our circuit around the park when we noticed a group of (I think) Mennonite birders staring at something in the grass. We couldn’t tell what they were until green shapes flew over to another patch of grass. “Rosy-faced Lovebirds!” Braden called with delight. It was a species he had especially hoped to see—and another Lifer for both of us. We spent a satisfying fifteen minutes just watching these little guys as they gathered grass seed heads—presumably to eat, but perhaps also for nesting material.

Introduced parrots such as these Rosy-faced Lovebirds always stir conflicting emotions in Braden and me. I mean, they definitely don’t belong here, but dang it, why do they have to be so darned cute?

But we had miles to go before we slept, so we reluctantly climbed back in the car for that night’s destination, Safford, where we checked into a cheap motel—only to find bed bugs hiding under the mattress. After quickly getting a refund, we headed to a pricier, bed-bug free place down the street (and yes, we checked the mattresses there, too!) for a welcome, but short night’s sleep. Our two-day, 1270-mile drive had already netted us five Life Birds and raised Braden’s Big Year total from 322 to 345 species—and we hadn’t even reached our first real destination. Would we be able to get Braden to 400? Things were looking good, but in birding as in life, nothing is certain . . .

Our Prospector Park List

Birding Brooklyn!

We wrap up our (choose one: Bonanza, Beneficial, Barbaric) Bonus Birding Blog run with our visit to Brooklyn’s Prospect Park. Brooklyn seems to often get second consideration to Manhattan, but as you’ll see, the birds were just as good. “So what is next?” you might ask. Well, Braden and I are about to leave for a birding excursion to Arizona and California en route to his job working in the Sierras monitoring Northern Goshawks. You can bet we’ll have some posts from that. And if you are wondering how Braden is doing on his Big Year goal of 400 species, we are proud to announce that yesterday’s addition of Williamson’s Sapsucker brings his year count to 319 species! Hm . . . maybe 400 is too low of a goal? Stay tuned to find out!

After our sublime day birding Central Park, Braden and I hopped the F train the next morning to meet my editor and friend Harold Underdown, creator of the amazing website Writing, Illustrating, and Publishing Children’s Books: The Purple Crayon. I had enjoyed working with Harold on my book Beaks! at Charlesbridge Publishing back in the day and now am happy to be working on another picture book with him in his position as Executive Editor of Kane Press. When I invited Harold to bird with Braden and me, he just could not suppress his scientific curiosity and, on his suggestion, we agreed to meet at Brooklyn’s Prospect Park.

Birding Brooklyn’s Prospect Park was a great way to renew my friendship with editor Harold Underdown, here wearing a mask to avoid attention from his thousands of adoring fans!

Fresh off our amazing day before, Braden and I of course woke early and arrived in Brooklyn a full hour and a half early. Braden had researched recent bird sightings so we headed toward the part of Prospect Park known as Lookout Hill. At first we did not see much, but as we continued, the birds began to show themselves, including Northern Parulas, Least Flycatchers, Baltimore Orioles, and Black-throated Blue Warblers. We also saw a feral cat, obviously stalking birds and other wildlife—an unwelcome reminder of the enormous toll outdoor cats take on birds across the country.

While it’s politically and emotionally challenging to talk about meaningful control of these voracious invasive predators, outdoor and feral cats across the country continue to take a brutal, unsustainable toll on wild birds. According to the American Bird Conservancy, cats are the Number One human-caused source of bird mortality in the U.S. and Canada, killing between 1.3 and 4 billion birds per year.

After climbing Lookout Hill, we dropped back down and made our way through some woods to a place called the Upper Pool where an unlikely Red-throated Loon had been hanging out. We didn’t see it immediately, but did spot several handsome Wood Ducks. Rounding a bend, though, we suddenly beheld a large gray bird paddling prominently in the middle of the Lower Pool. We dutifully shot a dozen or so photos and then hurried to meet Harold.

The presence of a rare Red-throated Loon in Prospect Park had made birders worry about its health, but we observed the loon take two perfectly normal flights so fingers crossed it is healthy and will move on when it’s good and ready!

Unfortunately, as so happens with we birders, an unavoidable delay smacked us in the face—two warblers we had not yet seen in New York! Braden detected the first by ear, a Black-throated Green Warbler. As we were watching that, however, he suddenly grabbed my shoulder and said, “Daddy, look!” It took me a moment to spot it, but thanks to Braden’s recent Florida posts, I recognized that it was a bird near the top of my New York target list: Prairie Warbler!

Not the best photo, but I was thrilled to see my first Prairie Warbler–species number 503 on my American Birding Association Life List of birds.

It was great to see Harold again and with him in tow, we more or less retraced our earlier route—but with different results. We showed him the loon, and as the sun emerged from gray clouds, we began seeing a wonderful assortment of passerines that included a House Wren, more orioles, Warbling Vireos, and first-of-year Yellow Warblers. The stars of the day? Two warblers, a Black-and-White and a Northern Parula, that put on the best-ever displays for us. The parula spent a solid five minutes in a bush not 15 feet from us, allowing us some of our best warbler photos ever.

After bidding adieu to Harold, Braden and I strolled down 9th Street and grabbed a pretty good meal at “New” Yummy Tacos, and then caught the F train back to Manhattan, glimpsing the Statue of Liberty along the way. That night, we all went to see the wonderful, poignant musical Come From Away. BUT, our birding adventures had not quite ended.

It was great to see the Statue of Liberty again, but something about her just seemed off.

The next day we walked the High Line, an inspirational elevated train trestle-turned-city park. Along the way, we stopped to eat “Liberty Bagels” in Chelsea Park. While we did see some birds including an oriole and an Ovenbird, bird numbers in both locations seemed significantly lower than we expected and, after talking to other birders, we realized that a migrant wave had probably finished passing through. That, in turn, made us feel how fortunate we’d been birding the last two days. As stated in our last post, the window for migrant songbirds through New York is pretty narrow and if I have any advice to those wishing to check birding NYC off your bucket list, it is this: give yourself at least a week to make sure you have the best chance of seeing a great group of birds. As we prepared to fly back to Montana, we felt grateful that at least this time, we had bit the Big Apple just right.

Our Prospect Park Checklist!

One of the joys of visiting New York is meeting friendly people from all walks of life, including photographer Ayinde Listhrop, who introduced himself while we were walking the High Line. Check out his inspired photos at https://www.unlimitedphotography.nyc/