Category Archives: Winter Birding

Big Day Mentality

This is the Big Day Mentality: Every species, no matter how rare, is worth one tally. During a 24-hour period, a team of birders try to collect as many tallies as possible; the end total is the sum of every single bird species seen or heard during the day by at least two members of the team. At the San Diego Birding Festival, my dad and I were invited to be “first lieutenants” on two Big Day field trips.

We co-led our first outing under the expert leadership of veteran birder Phil Pryde, a local San Diegoan who had an ambitious schedule planned out for the day, in order to maximize the amount of species we saw. From dawn to dusk we scoured San Diego county, which is larger than Delaware and Rhode Island combined; a bird only counted if one of the leaders and one of the participants identified it. By the end of the day we had arrived at a total of 113 species, and my dad and I at just over a hundred individually. The number wasn’t bad, and the day had given us a rough idea of how many birds to expect for the next Big Day. Overall, though, the day hadn’t been very “birdy”—we had missed quite a few common species.

At Lindo Lake we spotted several pairs of the most photogenic Wood Ducks we had ever encountered!

On our next Big Day, under the guidance of our good-natured chief, Eitan Altman, we were determined to break this record. Unfortunately, the conditions didn’t look good—a low, wet mist had rolled over the area. Thanks to the rain, we didn’t have to rush inland to get early-morning songbirds (they were probably huddled in their warm, dry nests with no intent on warbling at the weather), so we birded along the coast at a relaxed pace. While doing this, we saw an unexpectedly high number of species, including Common Loon, Surf Scoter and Brant, which had not been a guarantee, a huge flock of Black Skimmers, and rarities such as Glaucous-winged Gull and the well-known Reddish Egret which hung out in the San Diego River Estuary. The eccentric bird’s gait reminded me of Kramer from the TV show Seinfeld.

This Greater White-fronted Goose is a regular at Lindo Lake.

Finally, around nine in the morning, we headed inland to Lindo Lake, the place which had yielded the highest number of species to us on the previous Big Day. We tallied high numbers of waterfowl, woodpeckers and more, including some more rarities: the resident Greater White-fronted Goose hanging out with a flock of domestic geese, not one but two Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers, and a Bonaparte’s Gull that had somehow wound its way inland.

We continued hitting different habitats to nab species, and by three in the afternoon our total sat at 120 species, the most recent being an altitudinally-challenged Band-tailed Pigeon, a calling Canyon Wren and the ever-rare American Robin. As soon as I confirmed our total, Eitan began thinking of other species we could pick up, now determined to beat his personal record of 128. On our way back to the coast we stopped at places to grab specific birds, including White-tailed Kite and Greater Roadrunner. The tide was out now, and at the San Diego River Estuary we grabbed another six species, though unfortunately none of the rarities being reported there (Tricolored Heron, Mew Gull, Eurasian Wigeon) except the spunky Reddish Egret and a beautiful double rainbow.

We spotted a wintering flock of blackbirds at Lindo Lake, including many Tricolored Blackbirds, a California endemic.

As the day grew closer to our deadline of five o’clock, we opted to try and get a few last birds at a place called Fiesta Island, arguing over possible birds:

“Was that a Northern Harrier?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure?.”

And finally, right at the entrance to the island we hit 130 with a Spotted Sanspiper bobbing along the rocks of the coastline. A pair of American Kestrels on the actual island sealed the deal.

We finished the trip, said our goodbyes, then responded appropriately to our biggest day ever by collapsing into bed.

Birding the Mexican Border

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Listen to our interview with Sarah Aronson on Montana NPR’s “The Write Question” which aired Thursday, March 7!

Last week, Braden and I had the opportunity to attend the San Diego Bird Festival and do some of the most intense—and fun—birding of our lives. The festival will undoubtedly fill several posts, but before it began, we wanted to do something we’d been thinking about for at least a year—bird the California/Mexico border.

The border couldn’t have provided a greater contrast between the open wetlands and scrub on the U.S. side and the bustling city of Tijuana right across “la frontera.”

Because of a missed connection, we didn’t reach San Diego until 1 p.m., but we picked up our rental car and made a beeline down I-5 toward Tijuana. Our destination was the actual spot where the border meets the Pacific Ocean, and we weren’t sure how close we could drive. We ended up in a parking lot about a mile east and north of our destination and began trekking along a dirt road heading toward the ocean. It was a surreal experience as helicopters circled overhead—Navy fliers, evidently, training for duty—and the city of Tijuana pulsed just beyond the formidable border wall a mile to the south. Around us, though, stretched intertidal wetlands and fields, where we picked up Savannah Sparrows and meadowlarks and collected a number of duck species and a lone Eared Grebe.

This group of 500 Surf Scoters delighted us—especially when Braden identified a Black Scoter among them! Note Mexico’s Coronado Islands in the background—an important nesting site for Scripps’s Murrelets.

After hitting the beach, we headed south, the border fence looming in the distance. Almost immediately, we got a great surprise—a group of 500 or so Surf Scoters floating just offshore. For we Montana boys, this was a true delight—made even more so when Braden discovered a Black Scoter in one of his photos! We were hoping to go all the way to the fence and talk to some folks on the Mexico side, but a stoic Border Patrol agent shooed us back.

The two Heermann’s Gulls on top of these dolphins were vaunted additions to our Mexico list!

Undaunted, Braden said, “Let’s start a Mexico list,” so we spent half an hour watching birds perching on the border fence and flying between nations—without passports! President Trump would have been furious. In all, we tallied seven Mexico species: Rock Pigeon, Willet, Heermann’s Gull, Western Gull, Ring-billed Gull, European Starling, and a lone Willet sitting on the fence. Oh yeah, and a group of twenty Surf Scoters who had drifted across the border without a care in the world!

Next Up: San Diego Big Day #1!

These Willets weren’t the only birds who totally ignored our artificial geopolitical boundary. Go Willets!

Nick the Owl Finder Strikes Again!

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When you’re a birder, nothing ever goes according to plan. For example, if you slog through a draw to find a Long-eared Owl, you’re more likely to see a flock of Bohemian Waxwings, or your state’s first record of a Red-flanked Bluetail, or a moose, or anything that is not a Long-eared Owl.

The plan on Sunday, February 10^th was to sleep in. Instead, my dad shook me awake at seven in the morning (which I guess is technically sleeping in, but still).

“Nick found a Great Gray and a Barred at Maclay Flats! We have to go!”

Only an owl can get me out of bed early on a weekend!

I groaned and rolled out of bed, and within minutes we rumbled down the road in my dad’s Forerunner, dodging the potholes who tried to swallow us. The plan was to go the speed limit, but as I said earlier, things never go according to plan.

We reached Maclay in record time, and I texted Nick, asking for details. He responded quickly, providing great photos of both owls, and we trekked through the snow-blanketed forest, accompanied only by the occasional chirps of Red Crossbills flying over. As we passed the fields where we had spotted the Northern Pygmy-Owls two years prior, we scanned the bare trees. Nothing.

Then we hit the huge field in the center of Maclay, where Nick had said the Great Gray was hunting. We followed a trail of footsteps around the edge of it, running into another man that my dad knew, and we asked him if he’d had any luck.

When owls prove hard to find, Red-breasted Nuthatches provide entertaining diversion.

“None yet—but I’ve seen owls here before.”

“You heard about the Great Gray and the Barred here, though, right?”

“What? No, I just came out here today.”

Soon, we spotted two other birders on the edge of the field ahead of us, pointing cameras at the top of a Ponderosa.

“That’s a good sign,” said my dad.

We quickened our pace towards them, and I suddenly glanced up to see something I hadn’t seen in four years: a Great Gray Owl. The magnificent predator of the night’s eyes glowed with yellow fire, staring down at all of the peasants who had dared enter its domain. It wasn’t quite as large as I remembered, but then again it perched high on a pine bough.

Politicians spend a lifetime trying to master a Great Gray Owl’s stare!

As we snapped hundreds of photos, Nick suddenly joined us, accompanied by his stepmom and his dad, Phil.

“Nick!” I said, “How do you manage to find all these owls!?”

“Well, we came out looking for the Great Gray and just walked past the tree that the Barred was in. Do you want to see it?”

“Sure!”

Re-locating the Barred proved easier said than done. Nick had discovered the Barred in a spruce, but we trudged through deep snow, unable to find it. After half an hour, Nick finally stopped and pointed into the shaded interior of a tree. The Barred was smaller than the Great Gray, and much less active, as if trying to merge with its dark surroundings. After spending more time watching both owls, we returned to the car, tired, cold and fulfilled. Things definitely hadn’t gone according to plan!

“Just let me sleep!” this Barred was probably thinking, but he didn’t budge from his cozy roost.

San Antonio Botanic Garden: Messier is Betterer

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As I recounted last week, I had the recent good fortune to speak at the TCTELA conference in San Antonio. Additional good fortune? My flight home didn’t leave until Monday evening, leaving an entire day to bird. My initial plan was to visit the Mitchell Lake Audubon Center, but naturally the center is closed on Mondays, so I instead opted for the San Antonio Botanical Garden.

Hard to get tired of Inca Doves, especially when they never come close to Montana!

Taking my very first Uber ride (worked like a charm), I arrived almost at opening time and proceeded to feel my way through the garden’s 38 acres. The birds were active and I immediately found Northern Mockingbirds, American Goldfinches, Northern Cardinals, and the especially raucous Blue Jays among other common species. My main targets of the day were Ladder-backed and Golden-fronted Woodpeckers, as they’d both shown up on recent eBird checklists, but neither those nor other extraordinary species showed themselves. . . that is, until I wandered into a small, unkempt part of the grounds near the back.

I was delighted to find this guy trying to stay undercover in the Garden’s “messier” reaches!

With my hearing aids in, I detected the regular contact chip of what I guessed was some kind of warbler and, sure enough, I soon spotted a Yellow-rumped. I also saw another tiny bird dive into a bush, but failed to get a good look. “Just stand for a minute and be patient,” I told myself. Sure enough, the mystery bird flew into a closer bush and, even better, I got my binocs focused on it. I didn’t recognize the markings at first, except that I knew it was not a warbler. Then, I saw the distinct pale eye of a White-eyed Vireo. Whoo-hoo! And if that wasn’t enough, moments later, I spotted the furtive brown figure of a Long-billed Thrasher! Now, we were gettin’ somewhere!

Exploring more, I discovered Inca Doves, Red-shouldered Hawks, and Black Vultures, but after a lunch break, bird activity took a nosedive along with my birding enthusiasm. Before summoning another Uber, however, I decided to return to the same unkempt spot as before. Jackpot! There, I picked up more Yellow-rumpeds, an Orange-crowned Warbler, and a Blue-gray Gnatcatcher. But who was making those annoying cheeps, sometimes punctuated by a loud rising and falling call”? I followed the sounds for more than ten minutes. Finally, I spotted a gray bird with brownish wings and a vivid mustard breast on a branch.

The distinctive call of “Beer!” finally led me to this stunning Couch’s Kingbird.

Right away, I knew it was a king bird, but which kind? A quick look at the eBird checklist pointed to Couch’s Kingbird, which I confirmed by listening to its “Beer!” call on my phone.

I left the garden without my coveted woodpeckers, but feeling pretty good about the birds I’d been able to find. The day also reinforced a lesson for botanical gardens and yards alike: for birds, messier is betterer!

Winter Birding in Atlanta’s Surprising Piedmont Park

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When we were invited to my brother’s wedding in Atlanta, Braden and I immediately began wondering which birds we might encounter in the “Dogwood City” in mid-January. Our first morning there, we determined to find out by taking a loop around Piedmont Park in the company of our good friend—and famous “Hidden Figures” movie extra—Erica Brown. Almost immediately, the birds came out to meet us!

Sneed and Braden trying to track down a Carolina Wren in some brush at Piedmont Park. (Photo by Erica Brown)

Making a loop to the north from the parking lot, we soon found common hoped-for Northern Cardinals, Blue Jays, and Carolina Chickadees, but then surprised a gorgeous Red-shouldered Hawk lurking along the stream bed. The birds only got better from there.

This Red-shouldered was a real delight—and proof that a thriving bird community can exist in the heart of an urban environment. (Photo by Braden Collard)

Continuing north, we picked up Tufted Titmouse, Ruby-crowned Kinglets, Carolina Wrens, Eastern Phoebes, and to my delight, a Golden-crowned Kinglet, which I was especially glad to see because my crummy hearing doesn’t allow me to find these by sound. Looping back on the far side of the park, I began wondering where the woodpeckers might be when I spotted a small candidate in a tree. “There’s a Downy,” I pointed to Braden. “I see it,” he said, “but that’s not a Downy. It’s a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker!” “Huh?” Turns out, we’d been looking at different birds!

We never get tired of watching phoebes—especially one that we rarely get to see, the Eastern Phoebe. (Photo by Braden Collard)

Our real jackpot turned out to be a large, muddy puddle next to some dead grasses. There, we picked up Swamp, Chipping, Song, and White-throated Sparrows, Eastern Towhees, and my favorite, a pair of Brown Thrashers. All told, we bagged 28 species, far exceeding our wintry expectations. Better yet, Braden scored three Lifers: Eastern Towhee, Swamp Sparrow, and Yellow-bellied Sapsucker!

This Eastern Towhee proved a Lifer for both of us! (Photo by Braden Collard)

As a bonus, that night, we got to visit with the wonderful folks of Atlanta Audubon at my book signing with A Cappella Books, held at Brickworks Gallery. What a fun group! The welcoming people—and welcoming birds—left only one burning question: what could “Hot’lanta” possibly be like during spring migration? One day, we hope to find out!

Next Post: another urban birding report from my upcoming trip to San Antonio for the TCTELA Conference.