Category Archives: Warblers

Collards of Arabia

We hope you enjoy Braden’s new post about our visit to Jordan. Braden and I know first-hand what a difficult time this is for many of you, and we hope that you are all staying healthy and safe. We encourage you to share this post with all of the kids and educators in your lives to help education continue during these tough months. I have also posted a virtual author visit to the Galapagos as another resource for teachers, librarians, and kids. It can be found on my YouTube Channel. Please feel free to share this as well. Most of all, keep birding!

Frigid wind raced under our raincoats as we tore across the sand. My dad and I were perched on makeshift benches in the open top of a Toyota (the proud sponsor of deserts, apparently), squinting at our dramatic surroundings as grains of dust flew into our eyes. We turned a wide corner, and found ourselves at a makeshift settlement at the base of a mountain. The truck slowed to a halt, and our driver, Ahmed, helped us get out.

For a birder in Arabia, a camel is mandatory equipment!

“Welcome to Lawrence’s Spring,” he said, gesturing towards small pockets of vegetation that apparently indicated underground water. Above us, a huge canyon opened up, spilling boulders down the mountainside. To the left sat a large, black tent where locals and tourists warmed their hands by a smoking fire while eyeing trinkets. Young boys and dromedary camels lounged around, and Brown-Necked Ravens soared above us. After bouldering a little, my dad and I took a short camel ride, with two friendly boys leading our surprisingly tall camels in a large circle. The boys took special interest in our binoculars, just as the guards at the Jordanian Border Crossing had earlier that morning. Thankfully, our binos were returned to us both times.

The National Bird of Jordan, the Sinai Rosefinch became one our favorite birds of the Middle East. Braden got this great shot of both the male and female in their natural habitat.

We got off the camels, preparing to board the truck again, when a large flock of birds caught my eye. My dad and I had already grown accustomed to the striking white and black Wheatears, of which there were several species, but along with these, several other birds had gathered by the rocks behind the base of the tent. One was an unusual subspecies of the Black Redstart, one we hadn’t seen before, and several bland but new Desert Larks hopped around on the sand. Some of the birds were vividly pink and red-patterned, though! We hadn’t seen these before, and I guessed they were finches based on their thick beaks. I got fairly close, snapping several hundred shots, before our guide called us back to the truck. Upon later investigation, we discovered they were Sinai Rosefinches, the National Bird of Jordan! We’d now seen two National Birds on this trip, the other being Israel’s Hoopoe.

The sheer scale and color of Wadi Rum will steal the breath from even the most experienced traveler.

The next few hours, we continued across the desert to various small attractions, hiding from the wind behind mountains each time. We climbed a sand dune, summited an arch and explored two desert canyons. One canyon had ancient Nabatean glyphs carved into the walls, and fig trees sprang up wherever water was to be found. The coolest part of Wadi Rum, though, may have just been the ridiculously awesome scenery. Huge, limestone mountains jutted out of the red and white sands, giving off the impression of massive Rosetta Stones with their unique, melted-wax type look. Star Wars and The Martian, both of which had been partly filmed here, didn’t show off every part of the desert, though. Some areas had rocky ground rather than sand, and there were large patches of low brush in other locations. Unfortunately, this vegetation acted like nets for trash, and we saw more white plastic bags than White-Crowned Wheatears perched atop the shrubs. It seemed the tourists, of whom there were quite a few, did not respect the desert as much as they should’ve.

As my dad and I exited one canyon, we spotted two tiny birds racing from one bush to another. They reminded us of the brush-loving Graceful Prinias we’d seen the rest of the trip, but since every other bird we’d seen today was new, we decided to check them out. Sure enough, we finally flushed them, and took pictures as the pair of sharply-streaked birds ran up the canyon walls like Canyon Wrens. Later, as we sat in our hotel, we identified our photos as Scrub Warblers!

The birds of Wadi Rum tended toward the small, cryptic, secretive side, as this Scrub Warbler demonstrates.

We eventually were driven back across the desert to the town of Rum, the only permanent human settlement in the valley. Other people did live here, called the Bedouins: these people, who were traditionally nomadic sheepherders, now made money off of tourism, by running hotels (or at least as much as a tent can be a hotel). Ahmed told us, that if we ever came back, we should spend the night in the desert.

Bedouin hospitality definitely took the chill off of our spectacular winter Wadi Rum tour.

Back in Rum, as we marveled at the large congregations of Tristram’s Starlings (black birds with unexpected orange wing-patches), we said goodbye to Ahmed, and went on our way as the guide who’d brought us to Wadi Rum drove us onward towards one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, Petra. It was there where we were to spend the night, and take a tour of the area the next day.

Listening to Birds

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Last week, to celebrate the final days of summer, Braden and I did something we’ve always wanted to do: bird banding. This, however, wasn’t just any bird-banding session. We were lucky enough to accompany the team of biologist Debbie Leick, whom we first met during last year’s Christmas Bird Count.

When Braden and I got to hang with them, Debbie Leick and her bird banding and recording partners had a productive morning, capturing thirty birds of fourteen different species.

Debbie works for MPG Ranch, a wonderful operation that supports a host of restoration and academic science. Debbie’s project? To see if she and her crew can count migrating birds by listening to their flight calls with a large array of microphones spread throughout the Bitterroot Valley. Before she and her team can start counting birds, however, they have to be able to distinguish their calls.

Birds in Bags! Birds extracted from mist nets are kept warm in bags while awaiting banding, measuring, and for a lucky few, recording.

Braden, Debbie, and I joined the University of Montana Bird Ecology banding crew at a trapping station up Miller Creek. The team had set up mist nets to capture birds, and when we arrived, the action was in full swing. A Swainson’s Thrush, Yellow-rumped Warbler, MacGillivray’s Warbler, and a surprise (to us) Northern Waterthrush kicked off the bird parade. Some of these were recaptures, as evidenced by the bands around their legs. New or recaptured, each bird was carefully removed from its net, weighed and measured, and released. Some birds, however, got special treatment.

This MacGillivray’s Warbler submits to a thorough health inspection by expert warbler wrangler Sasha Robinson before being banded, measured, and released back into the wild.

When we caught a Townsend’s Warbler, Debbie’s colleague Boo Curry (and yes, no typo there) led me and the bird to a PRS or Portable Recording Studio. The warbler was gently placed in its own soundproofed recording booth and then Boo piped in some warbler calls (a bird’s version of elevator music) to see if she could get the Townsend’s to respond.

A Townsend’s Warbler prepares to audition for Debbie’s flight call library. It passed with, ahem, flying colors.

It did! In fact, it was the team’s first successful flight call recording of the season. Which just goes to show how painstaking field biology can be. The work of Debbie’s team, though, has great promise to improve not only our counting of migrating birds, but our understanding of them. Stay tuned for more when Braden and I follow up on their progress at a later date!

Debbie’s colleague Kaitlyn shows Braden how to release a thoroughly-processed, somewhat bedraggled Ruby-crowned Kinglet.

Our 50th Post—Philmont Scout Ranch, New Mexico!

Braden celebrates our “Half-Century” post with a lively recount of our two-week backpacking adventure in New Mexico. Why not celebrate with us by subscribing using the box on the right below? As always, feel free to share this with other birders, bloggers, Scouts—anyone you wish!

My dad and I recently got back from a two-week backpacking adventure on the Philmont Scout Ranch, a 220-square-mile swath of wilderness in northern New Mexico. The ranch is the largest of the Boy Scouts of America’s High Adventure Bases, and is jam-packed full of wildlife, history, culture and breathtaking experiences. Our trek, which we did with twelve other scouts and adults from our troop in Missoula, covered 74 miles. During this time, we hiked through canyons, and summited mountains, including the Ranch’s highest peak, Mount Baldy, at 12,441 ft. We also were exposed to and learned a wide variety of new skills at staffed camps we visited, including how to pack and unpack a burro, how to build a railroad, how to blacksmith, how to lasso, how to shoot Old West-style guns and black powder rifles and more.

Braden with our trusty Burro, “Nigel”—named because, when necessary, he could turn it up to “11”! We were lucky to have Nigel’s company for two days of our trek.

The trek also exposed us to a wide variety of diverse habitats. We travelled through Ponderosa Pine savannah and forest, valley riparian, desert scrub, spruce-fir forest, alpine meadow, aspen forest, subalpine forest and alpine tundra. We saw many different species of animals throughout our journey, including Monarch and other kinds of butterflies, pronghorn, mule deer, a rattlesnake, bats, and a praying mantis, not to mention evidence of elk. And then, of course, were the birds.

Because we didn’t haul our five-pound cameras with us, this was by far our best bird photo from the trip. Flamingoes in New Mexico? Who knew?

My dad and I together tallied a total of 84 species throughout the trip, including the birds we spotted in the desert on the drive from Albuquerque to the Ranch. The most common species we saw were Spotted Towhee, Cordilleran Flycatcher, Western Wood-Pewee and Common Nighthawk, which we saw almost every day. These four birds had adapted to almost every habitat on the ranch, especially the Cordilleran Flycatcher, which we tallied everywhere, from lowland riparian to subalpine forest, missing it only in the Ranch’s Base Camp. Other common birds included Pine Siskin, Red Crossbill, Rufous and Broad-tailed Hummingbird, Western Bluebird, American Robin, Pygmy and White-breasted Nuthatch, Mountain Chickadee, Chipping Sparrow, Black-headed Grosbeak and Western Tanager. What was especially interesting was the abundance of Black-headed Grosbeaks in most of the habitats we visited; while they seem to be much more riparian-based in Montana, we saw them in scrub, second-growth, aspen and spruce-fir forest.

We were surprised to commonly encounter White-breasted and Pygmy Nuthatches—but rarely Red-breasted—on our twelve-day trek.

Lesser Goldfinches were also quite common, though were much more exclusive to riparian areas. The subspecies here was different from the west coast—they had more solidly black backs, though still kept the same green necks. The main subspecies of Dark-eyed Junco at Philmont was also interesting, it being the Gray-headed rather than the Oregon we were used to. These juncos were slate gray with red backs and dark spectacles. More common Montana birds like Red-breasted Nuthatch, and both kinglets only occurred at very high altitudes.

Braden’s keen eyes and ears allowed us to pick up Clark’s Nutcrackers and most of Philmont’s other resident corvid species, though good looks were hard to come by!

While at Philmont we spotted six of the seven reported corvids (Steller’s Jay, Common Raven, Clark’s Nutcracker, Pinyon Jay, Gray Jay, Woodhouse’s Scrub-Jay), missing only the rare desert-specific Chihuahuan Raven. We also managed to get three lifers during the trip, those being the beautiful pine-loving Grace’s Warbler, the by-ear-only Common Poorwill and the previously mentioned Woodhouse’s Scrub-Jay. Other highlights include a family of Dusky Grouse, a small flock of Band-tailed Pigeons, a nesting pair of Williamson’s Sapsuckers and the hordes of migrating hummingbirds attacking the feeders at Base Camp, where we saw four species including with Black-chinned and Calliope. Overall, it was a great trip!

The (non-birding) highlight of the trip was our group’s ascent of 12,400-foot Mount Baldy on our second-to-last day of hiking. Braden and Sneed are third and fourth from the left. We thought we might catch some Andean Condors up there, but no such luck!

Chasing Rarities

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On Wednesday, July 10, both my dad and my Montana year lists stood at 203, mere inches from our previous all-time records. Two days before, we’d had an awesome all-day birding session, nabbing five year birds (Bobolink, Dusky Grouse, White-throated Swift, California Quail for my dad and Black-chinned Hummingbird for me). Now, a couple of days later, I had gone to swim practice and was surfing the recent Montana eBird reports when suddenly, I spotted something. A Virginia’s Warbler had been seen in Lewis and Clark Caverns State Park! Upon further investigation, I discovered that not one but two Black-throated Gray Warblers had been seen in the same spot. Up a nearby canyon an Indigo Bunting was hanging out! I talked to my dad, and we couldn’t take it anymore. The rarities coupled with other year bird possibilities pushed us to the brink.

Bolstered by this Dusky Grouse and four other year birds we’d seen on Monday, July 8, we decided to make an all-out push to break our Montana Big Year records.

The next evening—Thursday—we hit the road for a Super 8 in Butte and the next morning were up at dawn, heading for the caverns. I had a pretty good idea of where the rare birds were (or so I thought), so we started off on a mildly steep trail from the campsite, encouraged by neon Bullock’s Orioles swooping around us. In our haste, however, we had forgotten our bug spray, and about two miles in, the mosquitoes attacked, forcing us back to the campsite.

Slightly disheartened, we moved on to our next stop: Milligan Canyon Road. A male Indigo Bunting had taken up residence here among the usual Lazuli Buntings, and we expected him to stick out like an indigo wildebeest in a pack of green lions. As we continued up the road, though, seeing all lions and no wildebeest, we began to grow disappointed. At the actual entrance to the canyon, though, my dad pulled off the road and whipped out his binos.

“I’ve got him!”

While common in the middle and eastern U.S., this Indigo Bunting was probably the rarest Montana bird we’d ever seen.

We leapt out of the mini-van like it was about to explode and ran across the road, and sure enough, there he was. The wildebeest was singing his tiny heart out, as if nothing was weird about the fact that he was in Montana rather than North Carolina. My dad and I celebrated our first successful rarity chase in Montana with a high-five.

After a quick search up the canyon for Yellow-breasted Chats and Green-tailed Towhees (we found a Golden Eagle instead), we made our way towards Three Forks. We pulled onto the dusty Bench Road and spotted harriers and Swainson’s Hawks, bringing back memories of our first-ever eastern Montana trip two years before when we’d found curlews and Burrowing Owls with Nick Ramsey on this road. Soon, we saw our main quarry: a tiny owl picturesquely perched on a fence post ahead of us. We pulled up alongside it, and flushed another!

We love it when birds pose only a few feet from us. This Burrowing Owl was really trying to score a permanent modeling contract, or at least a spot on “Project Owlway.”

The owls gave us great pics, and after a half hour we turned tail and headed back to Lewis and Clark Caverns. Why? It turned out I had picked the wrong trail for the rarities! We gave it another shot, this time driving to the top of the state park. Sprawled in front of us were beautiful juniper and pine-covered hills, and we started off on another short trail after being interrogated by the park officials (“We aren’t going to sneak into the caverns, we’re looking for birds!”). A few hundred yards up the path, a new sound rattled across the landscape, different from the regular sounds of the Spotted Towhees. I peered down the slope, and saw a bird with the strangest color combination—green, gray and orange. Green-tailed Towhee! We pished it up the slope and got awesome looks. This wasn’t just a year bird; we’d never seen it before!

We tried one more trail before giving up all hope on the two warblers, then steered towards Helena. After a brief rest at yet another Super 8—this one far more depressing than the first—we visited a Helena cemetery, where my dad had gotten Pinyon Jays earlier in the year. I was skeptical, but sure enough, eight blue-and-gray corvids crossed the road in front of us, hopping onto a few tombstones and then loudly flying off. Another lifer for me!

Chipping Sparrow? No! Green-tailed Towhee, a long sought-after Lifer for Team Collard!

We had dinner at MacKenzie River Pizza, then hung out there reading and watching the men’s Wimbledon semifinal since our next and final stop wouldn’t produce what we were looking for until later. Flammulated Owls, one of the most secretive in North America, had been regularly reported in a nearby location known as Grizzly Gulch (ironically, there were no grizzlies there), and we arrived at the coordinates at about 9:00 p.m. Almost immediately we heard a low, single hoot in the trees. No way! Who knew owls could be this easy? We tried to make our way towards the sound, but gave up and opted to let the owls come to us. Making our way farther down the road, we picked up winnowing snipes and Willow Flycatchers, and tried in vain to find a Common Poorwill flycatching in the road. We never did see the owl, but were fine with that! My dad had surpassed his all-time Montana record, and now we have 210 and 211 species respectively in Montana this year. Can I break my old record of 213? Stay tuned to find out!

Stumbling After Sparrows

Sparrows. A simple word that can elicit groans from the most experienced birder. Even after six years of dedicated birding, I feel like I am just beginning to grasp most sparrow identification, let alone sparrow behavior and song. With Braden’s help, I can now figure out most of Western Montana’s species, but put me in any new environment and I’m like a birding babe with a binkie.

It’s always great to see Chipping Sparrows back in Montana—even if they add to the sparrow confusion this time of year!

Earlier this week, I had the pleasure of speaking at the Helena public library, followed by a lively Last Chance Audubon meeting nearby. The next morning, I decided to sneak in some birding before heading back to Missoula. I first chose a local site affectionately called the “K-mart Wetlands.” This was my first time at the ponds during spring migration, and my pulse raced as I heard the haunting call of a Sora from the cattails. That was followed by my FOY (First of Year) Common Yellowthroat and a flock of more than twenty Yellow-rumped Warblers.

I was fortunate to run into a Helena birder name Jeffrey Olsson who said, “I heard a Clay-colored Sparrow down at the end there.” Though Braden had done his best to educate me about this bird, I drew a mental blank. “What does it sound like?” I asked Jeff. He repeated a buzzy sound for me. “Great. Thanks,” I said and headed off down a fenceline in pursuit. Amazingly, I heard the distinctive call, but didn’t catch sight of the bird.

No question, Lark Sparrows are some of the most stunning sparrows of all. This was only my third sighting in Montana.

I did run into a large number of Chipping Sparrows along with a single White-crowned. After completing a loop of the end pond, I looked out into a gravel patch and spotted a lone bird foraging for seeds. “Clay-colored?” I asked myself, quickly raising my camera. It wasn’t. Instead, it was something just as exciting—a lone Lark Sparrow. After seeing one with Braden and Nick Ramsey only a couple of weeks earlier, the Lark got my pulse racing, especially after I managed some good photos. Alas, I still didn’t glimpse a Clay-colored—or so I thought.

While taking photos of the Chipping Sparrows, I noticed some with duller brown head stripes instead of the usual bright red. I assumed these duller sparrows were females, but they also seemed suspicious. Later, back at home, Braden confirmed something I’d been pondering. The “female” Chipping Sparrows were actually Clay-coloreds! Once again, it was the struggle over identifications that inched my knowledge forward. While it’s a certainty I’ll misidentify many other sparrows in the future, each time I run into these interesting little birds, my brain connections grow. Which, of course, is what makes birding an endless adventure.

Sparrow On!

No, not a female Chipping Sparrow after all. One of several Clay-coloreds I watched at the K-mart ponds—without realizing it!