Category Archives: Wading Birds

Birding Costa Rica—Beginning at the Airport

Some of our most popular posts have focused on exotic travel destinations, and today we kick off our latest series on one of North American birders’ most popular choices: Costa Rica. Braden and I just returned from an exhilarating, intense, nine-day birding adventure to the land of Pura Vida, and over the next couple of months I’ll be posting blogs on our most memorable birding experiences interspersed with our usual entertaining “paella” of reviews, domestic birding, and other fascinating topics. Again, we do not receive compensation for our blogging efforts, so if you wish to support our work, please purchase a few new copies of Birding for Boomers, Warblers & Woodpeckers, First-Time Japan, or any of Sneed’s other books. If you already have copies, why not pick up some for your friends? With that, let’s dive into Costa Rica at—where else—the airport!

Braden and I arrived at Juan Santamaría International Airport at 10 p.m.—just time enough to get to the rental car office before it closed. After collecting our vehicle, we drove to a nearby Airbnb so we could get a fresh start in the morning. Having spent a lot of time in Costa Rica the past couple of years, Braden had organized our entire birding itinerary and even picked this first place to stay—not only because it was convenient to the airport, but because it happened to have a terrific, little-known birding spot just down the street.

**Braden and I from the porch of our Airbnb in Alejuela—practically under the flight path for San Jose’s international airport, and loaded with birds!**

Braden and I are big fans of birding near airports, and have often found hidden avian treasures where you’d least expect them. Just last spring, on my final morning in Texas, I had a remarkable birding session in the vacant lot behind my hotel next to the airport in San Antonio, Texas. And during his spring Costa Rica trip last year, Braden had discovered a special little place only two blocks from our Airbnb. This year, as soon as dawn crept over Alejuela (where San Jose’s airport is actually located), he and I grabbed our binoculars and cameras and headed out.

Our destination was a large city park with the even larger name of Caminito Magico de la Tranquilidad. Being unfamiliar with the rather poor-looking neighborhood, I admit that I felt a bit nervous about our safety, but my concerns quickly vanished. At the park, people were jogging, biking, doing exercises, visiting over coffee, and walking around as in any park anywhere. The park covered several hectares, mostly devoted to playing fields, but a lot of trees threaded the fields and lined the park’s perimeter, and Braden led the way in guiding us on a full circuit.

Even at dawn, Caminito Magico de la Tranquilidad park was bustling with people—and birds! Note the giant mall rising in the background—a good place to escape the heat and grab a bite, though a much better little soda (cafe) sits only a block from the park entrance.

I had spent two months in Costa Rica in 1994, but tragically, that was before I took an interest in birds. Since Braden and I started birding a dozen years ago, I had been fortunate to bird in Latin America several times—most recently in Colombia con mi amigo, Roger—but it was fair to say that I was a novice at Costa Rican birds. I had been studying, however, and to my delight Caminito Magico park presented a perfect warm up for the week ahead.

Entering the park, a Squirrel Cuckoo immediately flew across a soccer field in front of us. Braden identified Orange-chinned and Crimson-fronted Parakeets loudly squawking overhead, and I was thrilled to see my first ever Hoffman’s Woodpecker land in a nearby tree.

**My very first Hoffman’s Woodpecker put me in an ebullient mood as we kicked off our first Costa Rican birding session!**

The park was filled with many of the more common birds any visiting birder will quickly get acquainted with. These included five kinds of pigeons and doves, Tropical Kingbirds, Great Kiskadees, Great-tailed Grackles, and Costa Rica’s national bird, Clay-colored Thrushes. Blue-gray Tanagers flew between trees while Blue-and-White Swallows darted for insects overhead.

**Baltimore Orioles are common throughout Costa Rica—and never fail to raise a smile for a visiting Norteamericano birder!**

As we reached the far perimeter, I was delighted to find that a creek skirted about half of the park’s boundary. Trees grew thickly here, and following the pleasant path, the birds got even more interesting. Braden began pointing out Chestnut-capped, Northern Yellow, and Tennessee Warblers while I focused in on a stunning male Baltimore Oriole in a flowering tree. Braden also detected several kinds of wrens: Southern House Wren, Rufous-and-White Wren, Cabanis’s Wren, and the beautiful bruisers of the bunch, Rufous-backed Wrens.

**This would be the only location on our trip where we would see the “giant” Rufous-backed Wren—another reason to bird the San Jose area before heading into Costa Rica’s hinterland.**

This being in the heart of Costa Rica’s largest city, I gotta tell you that I had no expectations for the creek itself, especially because it was strewn with an assortment of trash. The birds apparently didn’t care and almost immediately, Braden pointed out one of the birds I had most wanted to see on the trip—Bare-throated Tiger-Heron! I was thrilled, but hardly had time to appreciate it as we spotted a quail-sized coot-like bird skulking the banks—a Gray-cowled Wood-Rail!

**For me, seeing a Bare-throated Tiger-Heron and Gray-cowled Wood-Rail (above) were stunning surprises in the heart of Costa Rica’s largest city!**

Soon after, Braden pointed out a Northern Waterthrush while I spotted a Green Heron along the opposite bank. This, of course, is one of the magical things about birding the neotropics: how in the midst of all of these amazing new tropical birds, we find many species that are totally familiar to us in North America. It begs the definition of just what a neotropical bird is since in reality, many species we Norteamericanos consider “our birds” are just visiting us for a short time, and can more rightly be considered tropical species. Maybe that’s how this park got the name “Magico”?

**Seeing “North American” warblers such as this Northern Waterthrush in the tropics makes you rethink what we consider “our” birds.**

Our delightful discoveries were far from over. At the far corner of the park, we met an amateur naturalist who visited this spot almost daily to monitor wildlife, and he generously shared that only minutes before, he had seen one of the San Jose Valley’s most intriguing endemics. We hurried down the trail and only fifty meters later saw them: Cabanis’s Ground-Sparrows.

Cabanis’s Ground-Sparrows are related to White-faced Ground-Sparrows, but live only in the San Jose area—an intriguing case of endemism that would make a great PhD research topic!

These are birds that Braden especially wanted to show me—but didn’t think he could. These handsome little guys live only in central Costa Rica, specifically in the valley occupied by San Jose. While not rare, they often tend to be pretty shy, making them challenging to see. They prefer scrubby, disturbed places like forest edges, coffee plantations, and apparently, city parks with lots of places to hide. Braden and I both began clicking off photos, but mostly we enjoyed watching them, one of dozens of unexpected surprises we would encounter over the next nine days.

As we were winding down our visit with the Cabanis’s Ground-Sparrows, I saw a larger bird swoop past us and land on a nearby branch. “Braden,” I hissed. “Look!” It was a final gift from this amazing city park: a Lesson’s Motmot! Not only that, it struck an incredible, leisurely pose. Motmots, of course, are some of Latin America’s most distinctive tropical birds and always high on a visitor’s to-see list. I was no exception, and felt enormously grateful to see one in our very first hour or two of Costa Rica birding.

**Seeing a Lesson’s Motmot in our first birding session left no doubt that we were birding somewhere far different from Montana!**

We finished our list with 47 species—almost as many birds as I’d seen in Montana in the first seven weeks of 2026! It was an awesome kick-start to our expedition, and we celebrated by grabbing our first Tico breakfast of rice, beans, eggs, and fruit at a little family diner only a few meters from the park entrance. We couldn’t predict how many highs and lows the next nine days would hold for us, but we were grateful and happy for such a promising start!

Caminito Magico de la Tranquilidad checklist: https://ebird.org/checklist/S302412338

**Braden has a passionate fondness for Costa Rican food, and after our first birding session we wasted no time in getting him a traditional Tico breakfast just a block from the park entrance!**

Protecting Texas’ Globally Important Bolivar Peninsula—We Can Do This Now!

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Instead of your regularly-scheduled blog, we today invite FSB readers to join in on an urgent appeal to help protect one of North America’s coolest and most vital bird habitats—the globally important Bolivar Peninsula. Learn more and donate by clicking here—or on the Piping Plover below.

If you’ve followed FatherSonBirding—or read my books Birding for Boomers or Warblers & Woodpeckers: A Father-Son Big Year of Birding—you know that High Island and the Bolivar Peninsula outside of Houston have played pivotal roles in Braden’s and my birding experiences. In these locations, the Houston Audubon Society (HAS) has worked tirelessly to obtain, restore, and protect vital habitat for both migrating and resident birds. On our first visit to High Island and the Bolivar Peninsula in 2016, Braden and I saw an astounding forty-five Life Birds in one day! These included everything from Scarlet Tanagers and Least Terns to Piping, Black-bellied, and Semipalmated Plovers.

**Braden and I saw our first-ever Piping Plovers on the Bolivar Peninsula, and I was lucky to see this endangered species again on a subsequent visit.**

Even though I live in Montana, I became an annual supporter of HAS shortly after that visit. Even better, I have been fortunate to visit the area three more times. Every trip has been a highlight of my birding career. Each time, I have seen gobs of amazing songbirds, shorebirds, and waders, and learned a ton about birds. Just check out some of my past posts about visiting the region:

Turkey Day Texas Adventures Part 1: Pursuing Plovers

Tangled!

Going Cuckoo for Fall Warblers in Texas

Anahuac Lifer Attack

Unfortunately, during my visits, I also have noticed an inescapable fact: the Bolivar Peninsula is being developed at an astounding rate and the reason is clear: beachfront property. During our first visit there, Braden and I noticed quite a few houses along the 25-mile or so stretch of the peninsula. On each subsequent visit, I was blown away by how many new houses had sprung up since my previous visit! On my most recent trip, this past April, I realized with dismay that the entire peninsula would soon be wall-to-wall housing developments.

**One of dozens of major housing developments that have sprung up on the Bolivar Peninsula since Braden and I first visited in 2016.**

I can’t even begin to explain how poorly-conceived this kind of rampant development is. Never mind that it has gobbled up some of the best remaining Gulf Coast wildlife habitat, it is virtually guaranteed that hurricanes will totally destroy these developments as they have in the past—and with increasing frequency thanks to climate change (see this Hurricane Ike story and this astonishing storm list). In fact, the ability of the peninsula in its natural state to block tidal surges, prevent erosion, and soak up storm water economically outweighs by far the short-term profits from this get-rich-quick development.

Rampant development in coastal areas not only destroys critical habitat, it greatly diminishes the ability of the coast to withstand hurricanes and other major storms. Though I’d love to enjoy a beachfront house like this myself, economically it is a lose-lose situation, both for homeowners and taxpayers, who often get stuck with paying the bills for disaster cleanup and rebuilding.

Still, the lure of fast profits is just too much here as it is in many other places. And that’s why I’m writing this post. Right now is one of our last best chances to protect what remains of this globally vital birding habitat. How? Currently, HAS owns and manages more than 3,000 acres of Bolivar Peninsula habitat—natural islands in an expanding sea of development. And yet, right at the entrance to their Bolivar Flats Shorebird Sanctuary, a new development recently cropped up. Ironically dubbed the Sanderling Development, it threatened to wipe out critical habitat and destroy a buffer to the core of the Bolivar refuge. The good news? Through heroic efforts, HAS managed to raise $3 million to buy 25 acres of the land this past July. Now, however, they need another $3 million to complete purchase of the remaining 27 acres of the property. This land is so vital that for the first time in decades, HAS has issued a public appeal for funds—And that’s where we come in!

Just one of many Bolivar housing developments, the proposed Sanderling Development directly threatened the ecological integrity of the Bolivar Flats refuge right across the road. However, HAS still needs to raise $3 million to complete the property’s acquisition. Click on this photo to donate!

No matter where we live, securing this last bit of property should be a major priority for birders. Not only does it help provide essential stop-over areas for millions of migrating birds that spread out across the continent, it helps protect critical breeding and wintering habitat. Endangered Piping Plovers, Black Rails, and Red Knots are just three endangered species among hundreds of other species that use this important area.

**A fall Long-billed Curlew at Bolivar Flats—perhaps just returned from breeding in Montana?**

So how about it? Do you have $25 to chip in? $100? $1000? If you do, I can say with confidence that your money will rarely be better spent. Along with donating, why not plan a spring or fall trip down to the area? If you are fortunate enough to be able to do this, I can almost guarantee it will be one of the highlights of your birding experiences. You also will not have the slightest doubt that your investment in this area is one of the best you will ever make. To donate, CLICK HERE NOW!

And with that, I will sign off so I can make a contribution myself!

**Houston Audubon’s Bolivar Peninsula’s sanctuaries are not only vital for Texas birds, but for breeding birds throughout North America.**

Chasing Morelet’s Seedeaters—or Why You Shouldn’t Depend on Map Apps Near the Mexican Border (Texas 2025, Final Installment)

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My success finding Black-capped Vireos and Golden-cheeked Warblers (see our last post) left me a welcome gift: an extra day to pursue another bird that keenly interested me. It was a bird Braden and I had unsuccessfully tried for on our 2018 trip to the Lower Rio Grande Valley: Morelet’s Seedeater. Though not rare in its core year-round range of Central America and eastern Mexico, this adorable “finchy” songbird just barely creeps over into the US along the Rio Grande Valley.

**Catching sights such as this setting moon is one of the benefits of being an “early birder.”**

Sunday morning, I rose at four a.m. and headed south from Uvalde. As they had on the previous morning, both a spectacular sunrise and unforgettable setting full moon rewarded me. As light crept over this flat country, caracaras flew along the road and Scissor-tailed Flycatchers perched on telephone wires. I even got a glimpse of a flock of quail leaping over a fence. Scaled Quail? I could only guess! After ninety minutes, my little highway joined Interstate 35.

And that’s where the trouble began.

I-35 is a main artery for trade between Mexico, the US, and Canada. As I sped south, I kept seeing signs for Mexico, but my map app directions assured me that I should keep going and turn off at an exit called Riverbank Drive. As I kept driving, however, I saw no signs for that—or any other—exit, and I realized that the only other traffic around me consisted of huge 18-wheelers. Finally, a thought occurred to me: Uh-oh.

Soon I found myself at a dead stop, surrounded by big rigs, with no way to turn around. There are moments in life where you know you are in a fix, and there’s not a thing you can do about it. This was one of those. Still, hope springs eternal and I climbed out of the car and walked to a big rig next to me. The kind Mexican driver, undoubtedly flummoxed by what I was doing there, rolled down his window, and we had the following conversation:

Me: Uh, I think I made a mistake. I’m trying to go to Laredo.

Driver: Laredo, Mexico?

Me: Uh, no. Laredo, Texas.

Driver (looking worried for me): You’ll have to turn around.

Me: Where?
Driver (after conferring with his partner): I don’t know.

**These Big Rigs kept me company as I contemplated life as a Mexican citizen.**

It was then that I began pondering the frightening ramifications of entering Mexico without a passport. I mean, could I have picked a worse time in history for this to happen??? The only good thing was that a Scissor-tailed Flycatcher perched nearby, blissfully unconcerned by my human drama. A few minutes later, the border opened and I eased in front of my new trucker friend. For ten minutes I and the big rigs inched forward until we reached a wide No Man’s Land of pavement and there I spotted an actual border worker. I pulled up next to him and explained my mistake. Looking vaguely amused and overly patient, he said, “See my buddy back there? Turn around and he’ll keep the trucks stopped while you exit at that road on the side.” I proceeded as instructed, gratefully waving to the “buddy.” I could have burst into tears at this point, but instead, I laughed all the way to the next exit—the real exit—which led to my original destination, Father McNaboe Park.

**The Rio Grande River, aka the Mexican Border, complete with Border Patrol agents and lots of Carrizo cane, where Morelet’s Seedeaters like to hang out.**

By the time I reached the park, I had experienced a week’s worth of drama, but remember, I still had some serious birding on the agenda. In 2018, Braden and I had visited the Lower Rio Grande Valley (LRGV) and even spent a night in Laredo, but had somehow failed to find McNaboe Park. I don’t know how, as the park consisted of a wide, long swath of trails, playing fields, and other amenities right on the Rio Grande River. Today, the park was jammed with people and I felt at ease as I walked toward the river. Before I even got there, I spotted my first great birds of the day—a pair of Hooded Orioles, a species I hadn’t seen since visiting Southern California seven years before. Not long afterward, I saw another oriole, a Bullock’s Oriole—perhaps on its way to Montana?

A Bullock’s Oriole, perhaps on his way to Montana!

Over the phone the night before, Braden had told me to look for the Morelet’s Seedeaters in the “cane grass,” a tall invasive species known in Texas as Carrizo cane. Apparently, this plant can be found all along the 1,255-mile reach of the Rio Grande, and it didn’t take me long to find thick stands of it. I began walking along them looking for little black and brown birds. I covered a couple of hundred yards without seeing any and then walked down to a little sandbar right at river level. No seedeaters.

Then, I happened to glance up a side channel at another thick stand of cane. There, perched on one of the stalks was an erect little bird with a finchy bill. I didn’t get my binoculars up in time to get a good look, but I immediately knew: I had found my bird!

**I was just about to get a great photo of this Morelet’s Seedeater when a loud car rumbled up next to me. I accidentally managed this flight shot, though, which is kind of fun.**

Of course, that didn’t keep me from wanting better looks, and for the next hour or so, I walked various paths and channels. I got to know the bird’s song and it wasn’t long before I was hearing and seeing more of these cute little guys. They were pretty shy, but I managed good looks—and saw some other great birds as well. These included a pair of Black-necked Stilts, a Spotted Sandpiper, a Green Heron, and even a lone Mexican Duck in the middle of the river. Not including the seedeaters, the show stoppers, as usual, were a pair of Vermillion Flycatchers.

**Do Vermillion Flycatchers get way more attention than they deserve? Probably. Does anyone ever get tired of looking at them? I doubt it!**

After a late breakfast at the French restaurant McDaniels, I decided to hit one more park in Laredo—North Central Park. Remarkably, I had failed to find a Golden-fronted Woodpecker so far on the trip, and though the heat was comin’ on fast, the park had abundant sightings of them. It took only five minutes to hear and then see one of these handsome birds and, walking a couple of miles or so, I also added Great Kiskadees and Bell’s Vireo to my trip list. Then, before I inadvertently wandered toward Mexico again, I turned tail and headed back up I-35 for San Antonio.

Link to my Texas Trip Report: https://ebird.org/tripreport/351263

Total Number of Species for the Trip: 144

My Top 6 Trip Birds:

Least Bittern (see post “Anahuac Lifer Attack”)

Yellow-throated Warbler (see Texas Hill Country post)

Black-capped Vireo (see Texas Hill Country post)

Golden-cheeked Warbler (see Texas Hill Country post)

Morelet’s Seedeater (this post)

Yellow-throated Vireo (see Peveto Woods post)

**A pair of Black-necked Stilts flying downstream over the Rio Grande.**

Anahuac Lifer Attack (Texas 2025 Part 2)

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After my morning exploring Peveto Woods (see last post), I had intended to visit another favorite coastal Texas location, Sabine Woods (see “Going Cuckoo for Fall Warblers in Texas”). Alas, my long previous travel day caught up with me so I decided to grab a siesta back at my hotel in Winnie. Besides, it didn’t look like the warblers and other migrants were showing up in large numbers, and I reasoned that I wasn’t likely to see much more at Sabine Woods than I’d seen at Peveto that morning. Instead, that afternoon I decided to visit another Texas favorite of Braden’s and mine: Anahuac National Wildlife Refuge.

**Braden during our first visit to Anahuac NWR in 2016.**

The refuge lies about halfway between Winnie and High Island, and Braden and I had many fond memories of it. During our Big Year in 2016, we’d seen our first Scissor-tailed Flycatcher here, along with our first Common Yellowthroat. I especially liked driving a route called the Shoveler Pond Loop. This afternoon, I didn’t expect any major surprises, but it was a pleasant way to watch Roseate Spoonbills, Common Gallinules, and a variety of other water birds. As I approached the refuge entrance, however, I got my first major surprise: the refuge had a new name! Only in the past few weeks, Anahuac had been renamed the Jocelyn Nungaray NWR. I later looked up how the name change had come about. I like to keep this blog politics-free, but I will just say that the new name resulted from both a tragic story and crass political shenanigans that apparently caught everyone off-guard. Feel free to look it up yourself and draw your own conclusions.

The good news? Shoveler Pond Loop looked better than I’d ever seen it! The loop consists of a 2.5-mile road that circumnavigates a 300-acre wetlands, and the last time I’d visited, in 2021, the latter seemed clogged with vegetation. Not so today. A large area at the loop’s beginning had been cleared out to create wonderful habitat for wading and dabbling birds and as I proceeded, I noticed many other revived sections as well. In preparation to write this post, I called the refuge to make sure that I wasn’t imagining things, and Park Ranger Chris Campbell confirmed that a couple of years ago, they had drained the wetlands and taken steps to remove large areas of cane grass.

**Shoveler Pond Loop is definitely one of my Top 5 “car birding” routes in the United States.**

The results looked terrific. As I began making my way around the loop, I immediately noticed large numbers of Black-necked Stilts and dowitchers—probably Long-billed, according to Campbell. Both Greater and Lesser Yellowlegs made a good show of it, too, and it wasn’t long before I began obsessing over some smaller shorbs. I eventually IDed two of these as Dunlins, and was especially pleased to find a Least Sandpiper as well. Alligators also seemed to relish the new-and-improved loop, and I watched with amusement as Black-necked Stilts nonchalantly probed the shallows only a few feet from the six- or eight-foot crocodilians.

**Uh, Mr. Black-necked Stilt, have you looked over your shoulder lately?**

I soon found a great collection of waders including Roseate Spoonbills, Tricolored Herons, Snowy Egrets, and both White and White-faced Ibises. It was when I turned the first corner, however, that the real excitement began.

**“Uh, just where do you think you’re landing, Mr. Tricolored Heron? Us Neotropic Cormorants and the herps over there were here first.”**

First up? A kind of duck neither Braden nor I had ever seen before: Fulvous Whistling Ducks! “Wow! Lifer!” I exclaimed out loud. For some reason, it never occurred to me that I would see these ducks, but there they were—sitting only fifty feet from their compadres, Black-bellied Whistling Ducks! And the hits were just getting started.

My first lifer of the day, Fulvous Whistling Ducks.

As I rounded the second corner, a narrow canal paralleled the road to my left, and suddenly, a medium-sized, reddish-brown bird flew out from beneath the road to some reeds across the canal. Astonishingly, it was another lifer, one that I recognized immediately: a Least Bittern! One of the smallest members of the heron family, Least Bitterns apparently are not all that rare. Ranger Campbell told me that they are very common year-round at the refuge, but the thing is, they are incredibly shy. I will just tell you that I never really expected to see one, and yet here one was! Not only that, it struck a pleasing pose while I kept my camera shutter clicking.

**Seeing my lifer Least Bittern not only justified the entire trip, it captured Bird of the Trip honors!**

I had barely started again when I noticed a couple of terns flying around. Generally while I am birding, I ignore terns and gulls until I’ve identified everything else. As one of the terns zoomed by my car, however, I noticed that it had an oddly blunt thick black bill. “No way,” I said, rushing to take some ID photos. My hunch was correct. These were Gull-billed Terns—lifer Gull-billed Terns!

**Terns favor the prepared mind. If I hadn’t been birding for more than a decade, the black bill on this guy may never have caught my attention.**

Really, I could hardly believe it. I arrived at Anahuac expecting to see birds that I had seen many times before. Now, within the space of ten minutes, I added three new species to my life list! It seemed so preposterous that I laughed out loud. What’s more, this was still only my first day of birding on my Texas trip. One thing was for sure: I never would have had such success if it weren’t for the hard-working government employees we all depend on. It just shows the wisdom of investing in protecting our natural resources for the common good.

Our 2024 Recap: Spain, Costa Rica, Japan (again!) and More

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2024 has been a record-breaking year for FatherSonBirding—and in more ways than one. Let’s start with the stats. Number of views to our site increased by almost 50% over last year to almost 14,000, while the number of visitors increased 65% to about 10,000. Much of what is driving these increases is interest in our posts about foreign birding destinations including Japan, Costa Rica, and Spain. In fact, viewers from 104 different countries visited our site this past year. Top views from countries other than the US were:

Japan: 445

United Kingdom: 384

Canada: 352

Australia: 244

Singapore: 208

Despite being published in 2023, our birding posts from Japan dominated views this year, especially with FSB visitors from foreign countries! Here, Tessa and I visit The Great Buddha, or Daibutsu, of Kamakura—apparently the second largest Buddha in Japan, one that harkens back to about 1252.

So which of our posts received the most views? Here is our Top 10 for 2024 (plus/minus 10 views each, given the quirks of the statistics-accumulating program):

1. Birding Japan, Kyoto: 811

2. Birding Japan, Tokyo Part I: 573

3. Birding San Antonio’s Riverwalk, Are You Nuts?: 568

4. Birding Barcelona Part I, The Urban Core: 463

5. Birding Japan, Kanazawa: 332

6. Birding Glacier National Park in the “Hot Dry Winter” of 2024: 289

7. Getting Serious About State Birds: 284

8. Braden’s Costa Rica Report #3, El Copal: 249

9. Turning Useless Lawn into Vital Habitat: 196

10. Monotypic Birds, Evolution’s Survivors: 195

A couple of things become evident from this list. One is that many birders are travelers. Even though they are from 2023, our Kyoto and Tokyo posts (links above) continue to get hits every day, often from people outside the United States. Despite this stiff competition, our post about San Antonio’s Riverwalk still wears the crown of our all-time most viewed site. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that all of this is because of how many birders are out traveling the world!

If you remember this Red-shouldered Hawk, you’ve been reading FSB almost from the beginning! Our post on birding San Antonio’s River Walk still holds the title of our most viewed post ever, with almost 2,000 views.

Our top posts, though, also reveal that readers of FSB have a major interest in environmental issues, as is revealed by our Glacier National Park post and our post “Turning Useless Lawn into Vital Habitat.” We take great satisfaction in that because one of the main reasons we write FSB is to help increase awareness of the environmental plight of our planet—and birds in particular—and what we can all do to improve the situation. Planting native plants in our yards is an especially simple, effective approach to increasing vital habitat that birds and their prey depend on. We’re happy that so many people took time to read our post on this topic.

**Enthusiasm for our post on the dry hot winter of 2024 revealed a strong interest in the environment among FSB readers. Good job, readers!**

But the year is only a little about statistics. Braden and I both had wonderful birding adventures in 2024. Thanks to his semester abroad in Costa Rica, Braden saw a remarkable 736 species of birds in 2024. More important, he got dozens of other young people into birding by starting the wildly successful UMaine Birding Club. The club did all kinds of fun activities, from leading dozens of birding outings to hosting movie nights and launching a project to reduce bird strikes on the UMaine campus building windows. Braden and I also finally got to take the eastern Montana birding safari of our dreams, spending two weeks exploring corners of the state we’d never before visited.

**Braden’s adventure-packed semester in Costa Rica led him to see a remarkable 736 species of birds for 2024.**

I had my own birding adventures including my wife’s and my trip to Barcelona last February, where I picked up a dozen species for my life list and had a whole lot of fun with Amy. I had two great trips to California: one to show my youngest, Tessa, a couple of potential colleges for next year; the second a great Bay Area trip to visit family and friends, including four fab days of birding with my childhood buddy, Scott. Work travel gave me additional opportunities to bird in Oregon, Washington, and throughout Montana. The highlight of the end of my year was getting to bird Cape Cod with Braden during Thanksgiving Week. I am also elated that my newest book, Birding for Boomers, is off to such a great start, reaching #8 the Pacific Northwest Booksellers Association bestseller’s list for nonfiction paperback books!

**Thanks to the year’s second trip to California, I got to spend more time than usual with friends—and coastal birds such as this Black Turnstone.**

As usual, Braden and I have only vague ideas where 2025 will take us and what we will be moved to write about. A few destinations in the mix: Indonesia, Vancouver Island, Texas. Whatever adventures we have and end up writing about, we deeply appreciate all of you for checking in and taking an interest in the coolest group of critters on earth. We also appreciate you supporting our work by buying our books and sharing FSB with your friends, family, and colleagues.

Until next year, Happy New Year, and may 2025 bring you joy, satisfaction, closer connections and, of course, a whole lotta birds!

Sneed & Braden