Festival Report: Wings Across the Big Sky 2023

In my last post, I mentioned being on my way to Montana Audubon’s 2023 Wings Across the Big Sky festival in Great Falls. After birding Freezeout Lake and Choteau, I could feel my excitement grow. Not only would I get to meet a lot of other birders at the festival, I had been invited to lead two field trips to one of my favorite Montana places to bird: Benton Lake National Wildlife Refuge. Last year, I’d had one of my best birding days ever at Benton Lake, and a couple months later, Braden and I had followed that up with perhaps our best Montana shorebird day ever. What would this wonderful spot hold for us this time?

**The sharp eyes of our intrepid Saturday Benton Lake field crew let no bird escape our detection!**

Saturday, our trip got off to a good start when one of the participants told me about a Burrowing Owl right off the road leading up to the refuge. Driving my intrepid minivan, we turned right onto a muddy track—only to drive right under the owl without seeing it! Fortunately, the two cars behind us were more observant, and we all got great looks at this rarely seen animal before heading to the refuge. Turns out, we would glimpse another BUOW at the refuge itself—but it would be only one of many stars for the day.

I’d never seen a Burrowing Owl atop a telephone pole and as a result drove right under it. Fortunately, the folks following behind us spotted it.

Birding Benton Lake NWR entails two distinct phases: a grasslands phase and a wetlands phase, and today, neither one disappointed. Driving through grasslands on our way to the start of the main loop, we were rewarded with multiple looks at Willets, Marbled Godwits, Long-billed Curlews, and Upland Sandpipers. The Willets and curlews especially put on a show for us, circling around the visitor’s center parking lot, uttering their looping, haunting calls. Thanks to recent rains, the vegetation in the prairie sections seemed especially tall and that probably suppressed one of our main targets, the Chestnut-collared Longspurs, but other birds turned out in force, especially Horned Larks and Savannah Sparrows. When we’d almost reached the turn for the wetlands section, I spotted several large-bodied birds flying low across the horizon—Sharp-tailed Grouse!

No one I know gets tired of Long-billed Curlews, and they’ve become a reliable bird for Braden and me at Benton Lake NWR.

With more water in them, the wetlands ponds sported a different mix of birds than last year. We counted 13 species of ducks, more than twice what I saw last year, but none in huge numbers. Wilson’s Phalaropes were present, but in smaller numbers than last year. While I’d counted 220 American Avocets and 20 Black-necked Stilts last year, today we saw neither species. Fortunately, the Franklin’s Gull colony appeared healthy and intact with at least 1,000 birds, as did the smaller number of White-faced Ibises. I worried when we didn’t see our dependable Black-crowned Night Heron colony—until one of our intrepid crew spotted one when we walked out to the end of the boardwalk during our early lunch break.

**Franklin’s Gulls dominate a whole section of Benton Lake—including, at times, laying claim to the roadway.**

Undoubtedly, one of the stars of the day were the Eared Grebes, who had constructed hundreds of raised nests in the “upper” pond. In fact, our little caravan stopped to break out our spotting scopes and admire this incredible sight for at least ten or fifteen minutes. On our way out, we passed the tree where Braden and I had enjoyed nesting Swainson’s Hawks multiple times over the years. Sure enough, a SWHA parent sat dutifully on a branch watching us as we slowly lumbered by.

It was a great treat to again visit the refuge the following day and I wondered how these two visits would compare. The verdict? Pretty similar. On Sunday we missed the Sharp-tailed Grouse—but again saw the Burrowing Owl, placidly sitting in the middle of the road. We missed the pair of Black Terns we’d seen the day before—but saw far more Forster’s Terns, and finally spotted a lone Black-necked Stilt along with a single Sandhill Crane.

**From a distance, I assumed all of these dark spots out on the water were ducks. Our crew was delighted to discover that most of them were Eared Grebes sitting on nests!**

We wrapped up Sunday’s visit by pulling over at a section of the road with shorter grass, and sure enough, soon spotted a couple of Chestnut-collared Longspurs, doing flight displays above their territories. But my favorite sighting came a few moments later, when we all turned our binoculars on a buteo hawk circling high overhead. The bird had unusual coloring, and we debated what it could be. Swainson’s? Red-tailed? An uncommon Broad-winged Hawk? Finally, my co-pilot for the day, Kevin Cox, called the correct ID: Ferruginous Hawk! I was thrilled. I usually see a FEHA in Montana every year, but it’s not a guarantee—and to see it out in such a glorious spot, and on such a glorious day, and in the company of so many people who appreciated it, well, that perfectly crowned a very memorable festival.

Click here for Saturday’s eBird checklist.

**This Ferruginous Hawk was the perfect bird to cap off a wonderful festival weekend!**

Note: The 2024 Wings Across the Big Sky festival will be held in Helena, Montana, which I’ve always considered to be the best home base for birding in Montana. No matter where you live, I hope you’ll plan on attending, either the first or second weekend in June. You won’t regret it!

Bitterns Under the Big Sky

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You may have noticed a paucity of posts since my daughter and I returned from Japan. It’s not for a lack of birding action. In fact, the past couple of months have seen our busiest birding in a couple of years. Braden has been strenuously counting eastern songbirds while I have been crisscrossing the state on various writing and speaking assignments, some of which I hope to share with you when I get several deadlines out of the way. Meanwhile, big thanks to our recent guest poster Roger Kohn for stepping in during our delinquence! And now, for today’s story . . .

The second weekend in June, my work took me to Montana Audubon’s Wings Across the Big Sky Festival, to be held in Great Falls. I had received a surprise invitation to speak at the event as well as lead two birding outings to one of Braden’s and my favorite Montana hotspots, Benton Lake National Wildlife Refuge. The festival kicked off on a Friday afternoon, but I cunningly calculated that if I got up early, I could get in a couple of solid birding sessions beforehand on the east side of the divide. I was on the road by 5 a.m. and cautiously drove into the dawn on Hwy 200, headed toward Great Falls. Why cautiously? Because this was the time of greatest risk of striking deer and other animals on the highway. Near Lincoln, in fact, I passed a dead elk and a smashed up car flashing its hazards off to the side of the road. I drove by, but then thought, “Wait. What if someone is still inside of that car?” and quickly turned around. Fortunately, I discovered no bleeding bodies, but it reinforced my caution as I continued my journey.

**On my approach to Freezeout, I espied a Wilson’s Snipe and couldn’t resist pulling over for a photo. Can you see the raindrops?**

The first stop on my birding agenda was Freezeout Lake, a place readers will be familiar with from past posts. Since we began birding, Braden and I have visited Freezeout more than a dozen times—and not just when the lake receives its famous influx of tens of thousands of Snow Geese migrating north in March. Over the years, we had made great discoveries at all times of year, including Clark’s Grebes, Tundra Swans, awesome shorebirds, and our Lifer Short-eared Owl. One bird that had always eluded us? American Bittern.

**At first it’s not much to look at, but Freezeout Lake is a vital resting and breeding location for tens of thousands of Montana birds.**

“I don’t understand it,” Braden told me via telephone the night before I left. “Other people go to Freezeout and see bitterns right in front of them, but we’ve never seen one there.”

“I guess we just haven’t paid our dues,” I said. “But I’ll keep a close eye out for them.”

Despite this promise, I held little hope of seeing one of these secretive birds. For one, they were thinly scattered across the state. Braden and I had heard one in the Swan Valley two years ago, and I had heard another at Bowdoin in 2022, but we had never seen a bittern in Montana, and I didn’t expect to this morning. Nonetheless, I arrived at Freezeout before 8:00 a.m. and eagerly set out along the management area’s dirt roads. Northern Shovelers and Gadwalls sat in the middle of the road, only reluctantly moving out of my way as I approached. Savannah Sparrows and Killdeer called through my open windows. I spotted several Wilson’s Phalaropes and, out on the water, a complement of American White Pelicans and Western Grebes. I especially searched for Short-eared Owls, but not a one was to be seen. After spending half an hour tolerating the mosquitoes, I turned around and made my way back to the beginning of the main driving loop.

I’d never seen so many Western Grebes at Freezeout as I saw last weekend. Surprisingly, I found not a single Clark’s Grebe despite studying more than a dozen possibilities through the scope. Up close, Clark’s are easily distinguished by a more orange-colored bill and the black facial line that rises above the eye, not below it as in this fellow.

Turning left onto the loop, I sharpened my senses as I guided my minivan into an area of thick cattails and brimming canals. Yellow-headed Blackbirds emitted their harsh cacophony and I heard a Sora in the distance. Glancing out my right window, I hit the brakes.

“No way,” I said.

Like most birders, I had been victim to wishful thinking countless times while birding, but as soon as I saw the thing standing out among the cattails a hundred yards away, I knew what it was. American Bittern!

**With the bird’s amazing camouflage,** **I may not have seen this American Bittern if that Red-winged Blackbird hadn’t shouted, “Hey, Dude in the minivan, check this guy out!”**

I turned off the engine, picked up my camera, and quietly climbed out of my minivan. I took several documentation photos and then silently studied this remarkable apparition through my binoculars. American Bitterns truly are bizarre-looking creatures. Grouped with shorebirds, bitterns display some of the most superior camouflage in the bird world. Brown overall, with brown and white stripes running down their long necks, they are famous for their “freeze pose” in which they extend their necks vertically, making them blend in almost perfectly with the cattails or rushes around them. In fact, as I watched, the bittern held this pose for several minutes before lowering its head and looking for food.

As famous as their freeze pose is, their call matches it for bizarreness. A deep guttural sound that some describe as pump-er-lunk, the bird sounds like nothing else in the natural world. The first time Braden and I heard it in the wild, I hardly believed it was real and accused Braden of playing it on his phone. It was real alright, and this morning, to my amazement, the bittern in front of me emitted this sub-woofer sound across the marsh.

**When I first saw this guy, I was hopeful I’d found a Red Knot, which Nick Ramsey had told me were passing through the state. Still, I was not unhappy when my knot untied itself into a Willet!**

After a few minutes, the bird flew away, and I watched it go, still in shock that this bird had decided to grace me with an actual sighting. I knew it could be a long time before I saw another one. Once hunted widely, bitterns continued to decline through the twentieth century due to wetlands loss and degradation, and perhaps pesticides. According to Cornell Labs’ Birds of the World, “Remarkably little is known about the biology of this species.” As I continued driving, though, I hoped that this one-of-a-kind bird would continue to find safety and nesting areas in Montana—even if I never personally got to see one again.

Savoring Sedona: Guest Post by Roger Kohn

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We are delighted this week to present only our second ever guest post, by long-time reader of FatherSonBirding, Roger Kohn. Roger and I met at UC Berkeley and roomed together for a time at Cloyne Court Co-op. Since retiring from a distinguished career with the EPA, he and his wife Claudia have settled in Bend and have pursued birding with a passion. Recently, they embarked on their first Arizona birding adventure, kicking it off with a place Braden and I have never birded, Sedona. I asked if he would give FatherSonBirding readers a taste of what it’s like to bird one of the world’s most beautiful places!

Inspired by Sneed and Braden’s adventures in southeastern Arizona last year, and eager to see more bird species and beautiful southwestern landscapes, my wife Claudia and I hopped a flight to Phoenix this past April to start a two-week birding vacation. Our plan was to focus on southeast Arizona. Before heading south, however, we visited Sedona to revel in its awe-inspiring landscapes. Although not known as a birding destination, I was confident we would see some good birds. After all, it was spring in Arizona.

Rising early on our first day, I stepped out onto our deck, which faced a large yard with bird feeders and had more green space beyond. I quickly spotted nine species, including two Lifers: an Inca Dove and a Northern Cardinal (a male, in all its bright red glory), a species I had wanted to see for a long time. Welcome to Arizona! The trip was off to a fine start.

After breakfast we drove a short distance to the location we selected for Day 1 birding: Red Rock State Park, known for its stunning vistas. At the Visitor Center viewing platform, we saw a Turkey Vulture, followed by two dark raptors with white bands on their tails circling above us. “Hawks!,” I exclaimed. I wasn’t sure what species they were, but I knew it was one we hadn’t seen before. The answer came quickly from a park ranger who was standing nearby: Common Black Hawk. Lifer! And who doesn’t love raptors? What a great way to begin our park visit.

**A Lifer Common Black Hawk soars above Red Rock State Park.**

After getting looks at another Northern Cardinal, as well as Lesser Goldfinches, House Finches, Red-wing Blackbirds, and White-crowned Sparrows, we followed the Bunkhouse Trail a short distance downhill to Kingfisher Bridge, which spans Oak Creek. The creek was wide and gushed with fast-moving water. This would prove to be a surprising theme of the trip: plenty of water and lush landscapes–not what one thinks of in a state known for its desert landscapes! Tall, bare trees grew right out of the creek, giving a bizarre, otherworldly quality to this striking scene.

We didn’t see any kingfishers at their namesake bridge, but we did see a couple of Black Phoebes (a flycatcher species) perched on branches above the creek between breakfast-gathering forays. Crossing the bridge, we headed west on the Kisva Trail into riparian habitat next to the creek. It was very birdy here, although not always easy to see the birds. Violet-green Swallows zipped back and forth, and a couple even were cooperative enough to perch and allow me to photograph them. We could hear the harsh calls of Gila Woodpeckers reverberating all around us. The Audubon app describes their calls as “a rolling churrr.” To me, the calls had a bizarre, almost electronic, quality. We were not able to see the woodpeckers, but they are very common in Arizona and we would see them many times in a variety of different habitats on the rest of the trip. A little further on, we could see a lot of bird activity in the treetops. Benefitting from Merlin Sound ID, we knew we were looking at Lucy’s Warblers, another Lifer!

**A Lifer Lucy’s Warbler in the treetops along Oak Creek in Red Rock State Park.**

The Kisva Trail took us to the Eagle’s Nest Trail, which gradually ascends to a summit with a commanding 180-degree view of the surrounding red-rock country. The scenery in and around Sedona is absolutely jaw-dropping, with layers of colorful rock rising into towering formations that lend an epic, cinematic quality to the landscape. This is why we came to Sedona!

We didn’t see many birds on our way up, or as we descended on a loop trail that took us back to Oak Creek. Walking along the creek, we got good looks at a Townsend’s Solitaire and a House Wren, perched and singing a sweet and enchanting aria for all to enjoy. Later I saw a black and white bird darting back and forth among the trees. I wondered if it could be a species that I was really looking forward to seeing based on my pre-trip bird study. Could it be… yes it was… a Bridled Titmouse! Lifer! With what eBird calls a “crested head with striking black-and-white pattern unlike any other bird,” the Bridled Titmouse makes up for its lack of color with a combination of elegant form and bold contrast that give the species a big WOW factor. We loved these guys and saw them on several other occasions in the next two weeks.

A House Wren sings its heart out next to Oak Creek in Red Rock State Park.

Relaxing back at our rental with a fine locally produced beverage made with barley and hops (and love), we snagged two more Lifers: Woodhouse’s Scrub-Jay and Canyon Towhee. As the sun sunk toward the horizon, we reflected on the excellent first day of our Arizona birding adventure.

**A Lifer Canyon Towhee says hi at our rental.**

We awoke to another gorgeous early spring morning on Day 2 of the trip. Our plan was to bird the West Fork Trail, which follows Oak Creek in the Coconino National Forest. After a pretty 30-minute drive through rugged country north of Sedona, we arrived. A pair of bright blue Steller’s Jays and a group of cackling Acorn Woodpeckers greeted us in the parking lot. As we gathered our gear to get ready to walk, a few black and red birds flew over us and landed in the trees above us. This had to be something good. Focusing our binoculars in high branches where the birds landed, we were delighted to discover that they were Painted Redstarts, a Lifer for both of us! We got great looks and absolutely loved this warbler species, with its gorgeous black, red, and white plumage. Although we would get glimpses of this species again later in the trip, this was by far our best sighting.

**A show-stopping Lifer Painted Redstart in the West Fork Trail parking lot.**

Starting our walk, we enjoyed views of three other warbler species near a footbridge that spanned the creek. Lucy’s Warblers were present, although hard to see as they flitted around in the treetops. We got good looks at Yellow-rumped Warblers, and a beautiful Yellow Warbler foraging in the trees.

Continuing, we passed the ruins of an old cabin and were delighted by the beauty of this place, with cliffs in hues of pink, white, and gray rising to dizzying heights above the canyon floor. We saw Ruby-crowned Kinglets, House Wrens, American Robins, and many Acorn Woodpeckers (which live in family groups), with their colorful and clownish face patterns. Soon we reached a waist-high creek crossing that we didn’t want to attempt, so we turned around. On the way back, we enjoyed views of a pair of Common Black Hawks harassing a Peregrine Falcon. The raptors flew gracefully and at high speeds, making sharp turns as the hawks pursued the falcon, all set against a dramatic background of colorful canyon walls.

We loved the beauty of the landscapes in Sedona and would love to return. As our two-day stay wrapped up, we had seen 38 species, including eight Lifers. Now southeast Arizona, which Tucson Audubon calls “one of the most fascinating areas for birding in the United States,” with over 400 bird species seen annually and approximately 500 recorded, beckoned. Early the next morning, we eagerly pointed our car south toward Tucson.

**The author in his natural habitat, a brewery in Tucson!**

eBird Checklist – 12 Apr 2023 – Red Rock SP – 18 species (+1 other taxa)

eBird Checklist – 12 Apr 2023 – Coconino National Forest, Sedona US-AZ 34.83181, -111.80798 – 4 species

eBird Checklist – 13 Apr 2023 – Oak Creek Canyon–West Fork – 12 species

Bear Canyon—Montana’s “Tropical Birding” Paradise

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With this post, I am officially back from Japan—and loving the spring birding around Montana. In this episode, I revisit one of our favorite Montana places to bird, Bear Canyon. As is often the case, I was hot on the heels of one of my nemesis birds, Sagebrush Sparrow. Thanks for following along—and Happy Mother’s Day and Global Big Day!

When I shared my most recent Montana birding list with my friend, Roger, he joked, “Does Montana have secret tropical zones I’m not aware of?” I answered, “It does. It’s called Bear Canyon.”

In all honesty, to call Bear Canyon tropical is a stretch, but it may be the state’s best example of the Big Basin habitat that dominates much of the interior West—and it’s probably the best place to pick up “southern leaning” species that are truly elusive elsewhere in the state. These include Blue-gray Gnatcatcher, Gray Flycatcher, Sage Thrasher, Pinyon Jay, and my nemesis bird, Sagebrush Sparrow. When I was invited for some speaking events in the Billings area in early May, in fact, Bear Canyon immediately popped to mind. Studying the eBird bar charts it looked I might be a tad early for some of the species there—but that didn’t stop me from going for it. I was on the road from Billings by 6:30 and pulled up to a rocky parking spot at the mouth of the canyon just before 8:30. Two gorgeous Lark Sparrows greeted me as I parked. A good omen.

View looking down toward the mouth of Bear Canyon—truly one of Montana’s magical places.

As I hiked up and over a small hump into the canyon, the birds wasted no time revealing themselves. A Rock Wren—my first of the year—belted out its scratchy, repetitive song from the top of a juniper tree, and almost immediately, another song caught my attention. I punched in Sound ID and pumped my fist. “Yeah! Gray Flycatcher!” Moments later, I observed the bird a hundred yards away—the first of half a dozen Gray Flycatchers I would see that morning. Sound ID also recorded Brewer’s Sparrows and Green-tailed Towhees, but since I don’t know their calls and didn’t see either one, I didn’t record them. It also picked up my nemesis, Sagebrush Sparrow—but I think that was an error since to my knowledge they are rarely reported in the canyon itself.

**Seeing Gray Flycatchers was a treat, but to have one pose a reasonably short distance away added greatly to the experience.**

A host of other birds also showed including Chipping Sparrows, Mountain Bluebirds, Mountain Chickadees, and Vesper Sparrows—but that still left some big misses including Blue-gray Gnatcatchers (too early) and Pinyon Jays (probably off in another canyon). Still, it was a spectacular morning, and Bear Canyon was about as pretty a place I could ever hope to have all to myself.

A pair of Mountain Bluebirds definitely added a splash of color to the sagebrush country.

After two hours, I returned to the car and moved onto the next phase of my day—searching for Sage Thrashers and Sagebrush Sparrows. Driving south down a dirt road from the canyon, I remembered Braden’s advice to get out and actually walk through the sagebrush if I really wanted to find the sparrow. I dutifully did this three times. The first time, a jackrabbit about scared the sagebrush out of me! However, I also was rewarded with actual looks at the Brewer’s Sparrows I had been hearing in Bear Canyon proper, which was great. In fact it was the first time I actually got to study these handsome, but subtle, birds and watch them sing.

As drab as they are, Brewer’s Sparrows truly are gorgeous when you give them a close look. They are closely related to Clay-colored Sparrows, a species I have yet to see in 2023. Hey, that rhymes!

My second walk revealed more Brewer’s Sparrows, along with numerous Vesper Sparrows, Horned Larks, and Western Meadowlarks that inundated the area.

Which brings me to my third walk—and you’re going to guess that’s when I finally found a Sagebrush Sparrow, right? Alas, no. As I was walking back toward the car, however, a large bird suddenly burst into the air right in front of me. Its wings sounded like a helicopter. I immediately knew it was some kind of grouse, and guessed it was a Greater Sage-Grouse. Watching it fly away through binoculars, though, I just couldn’t be sure. Darn, I thought. That would have been super cool. Only a few footsteps later, though, SIX of the big birds leaped out of the sage and thundered away—and this time there was no doubt. I caught bold black and white head markings on a couple of the grouse, and even more revealing, black bellies on most of them. I was elated! This was the first time I’d seen Greater Sage-Grouse since birding with Nick and Braden six years before and to find them on my own, well, it felt like an accomplishment.

**I haven’t talked much about it much, but this was some of the best country ever for Western Meadowlarks and Vesper Sparrows—and pretty decent for Horned Larks, too.**

Disappointingly, I saw not a trace of Sage Thrasher, a bird Braden and I had seen here in numbers only three years before. According to the eBird bar charts, they should have been here, too. And the Sagebrush Sparrow? Well, to be honest, I didn’t expect to find one of those on my own. After all, it was a nemesis bird, right? Still, I clung to the memories of the Greater Sage-Grouse as I continued driving down the dirt road, and just tried to appreciate the magnificent sagebrush and snow-covered mountains around me.

Eventually, the road connected with a larger dirt road, and I turned right. I could see the highway up ahead, but coming around a corner I spotted a small bird landing on a bush fifty yards away. Better look, I told myself. I parked the car and whipped my binoculars to my eyes.

Then, I started to get excited.

The bird definitely looked like a sparrow, but with a darker head. It was partly obscured by a branch, so I took a few steps to the left, praying it wouldn’t fly away. It didn’t. And that was enough to confirm it—my first and only Sagebrush Sparrow!

**AT LAST! Right when I’d about given up hope, a gorgeous adult Sagebrush Sparrow decided I’d worked hard enough to find him! Thank you!**

The bird flew across the road to another bush and I pulled the car up a bit closer before again getting out. Now, I had a fairly distant, but wonderful view of the bird as it sang its melodious song. Nemesis no more! I thought and watched it for several minutes before it flew off. I thanked the bird and this remarkable ecosystem, and then headed back to Billings.

Birding Japan: Return to Tokyo and Trip Wrap

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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.

This wraps up Sneed’s birding adventures in Japan. We hope you’ve enjoyed these posts, especially if you might be contemplating a birding or, more likely, semi-birding trip to this remarkable country. If this is your first time seeing these posts, please do start at the beginning so you can enjoy them all the way through. Thanks for tuning in!

After our tour around the southern part of Honshu, returning to Tokyo felt like coming home for Tessa and me, but our excitement for the world’s largest megalopolis remained undimmed. While we’d spent our first stint near Tokyo Station, I chose Shibuya for our second Tokyo visit of four nights. As expected, this part of town immediately seemed a lot more “swinging” than Tokyo Station, with gazillions of young people streaming between trains, malls, restaurants, and, well, you name it. Even better, Shibuya Station is home to the famous statue of Hachiko—the subject of a wonderful picture book by Pamela S. Turner and a pretty awful movie with Richard Gere. Having written my own heart-rending dog book, Shep—Our Most Loyal Dog, I naturally felt great affection for Hachiko.

Well, I tried birding Shibuya at night, but you can see there were a lot of distractions!

I felt less sure of my birding strategy from Shibuya, but several large parks beckoned. I also had left my beloved headlamp at the hotel near Tokyo Station, giving me an excuse to drag Tessa across town to what turned out to be one of our favorite Tokyo places, Ueno Park. The southern part of the park in particular has a large area of reed beds conducive to watching waterfowl, gulls, cormorants, and other birds.

I honestly hadn’t expected much from Ueno Park, but Tessa and I truly enjoyed it. Hint: as you’re traversing it, walk up (or down) the EAST side of the park to avoid getting lost in a neighborhood.

Rather than give a blow-by-blow of Tokyo, though, I’d like to use this last post to briefly reflect on my overall impressions of birding in Japan—keeping in mind that my experiences were somewhat limited by our decision to travel almost exclusively by public transport and that we didn’t go to any great lengths to reach any truly wild regions of the country. Then again, that is how most people visit Japan (unless they are shackled to tour buses), so my reflections may have some resonance for you.

A not-so-well kept secret is the observation deck in the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building in Shinjuku. From here we got a great view of Yoyogi Park and the Meiji Jingu Shrine area.

First, I didn’t find what I consider a great diversity of birds in Japan. The country has an impressive overall total, but my guess is that many of these require travel to the extreme northern and southern points of the country. Then again, as only a modestly skilled birder, I often find that less is more. Before our trip, I learned probably 70 or 80 birds—which, to be honest, was about my capacity. Also, while I thought we might hit migration season, that did not seem to be the case. Most of the birds I saw at the end of March and beginning of April appeared to be year-round residents. A month later . . . who knows?

My last birding excursion of the trip was to Gyoen National Garden, perhaps the loveliest Tokyo park I visited on the trip–and the site of my last Japan life bird, a Pale Thrush.

Second, Japan does have very cool birds. I loved getting to know the common birds such as Black Kite, Brown-eared Bulbul, White-cheeked Starling, Japanese Tit, Dusky Thrush, and Eastern Spot-billed Duck. Added to these were some truly adrenaline-producing species such as Japanese Wagtail, Daurian Redstart, Little Ringed Plover, Japanese Pygmy Woodpecker, and Bull-headed Shrike. Bottom line: even in tourist areas, birders can reap big rewards by birding Japan.

One of the real surprises of birding Japan was seeing a Northern Goshawk—a bird I’ve seen only three or four times in Montana. This is a sensitive species in Japan, so I can’t share where I saw it, but it was a trip highlight for sure.

Third, if I am fortunate enough to return to Japan, I definitely want to explore some of the more way-out places. Tessa and I invariably loved the places we visited that were more off the beaten path such as Sendai and Kanazawa, and I can only imagine what it might be like to visit tropical southern Japan and the oft-frozen isle of Hokkaido.

Even the airports in Japan are way cool. Once we got our bags checked at Haneda, we found this delightful little restaurant for one last good Japanese meal.

Fourth . . . well there is no fourth. It was an amazing trip, and birding played a significant role in my enjoyment of this unique, friendly, accessible country. With that, here are some stats for the curious . . .

Number of eBird Checklists: 27

Number of Species Observed: 56

Number of New Life Birds: 37

Species I’ve also seen in the US: 13

Most Common Bird by Number of Individuals: Brown Eared Bulbul (194 birds, just beating out Large-billed Crow with 193)

Most Surprising Bird: Northern Goshawk!!!

Favorite Bird: (tie) Japanese Wagtail & Bull-headed Shrike

Major Lesson: Keep Birding!