Tag Archives: songbirds

Turning Useless Lawn into Vital Habitat

As the winter chill wears off, many of us are anticipating how we can spiff up our yards. That can be a tall order when we’ve inherited a landscape of sterile lawns and imported ornamental plants that have no business growing in Montana—or, most likely, wherever else you happen to live. Fortunately, this situation presents us with a wonderful opportunity to bolster the native ecosystems we know and love. How? By replacing exotic species with native plants that are both beautiful and provide real value to birds, insects, and other native wildlife.

Our blue penstemon and other flowering plants feed a host of native insects, including a variety of bumblebees.

A Scientific American article titled “The American Obsession with Lawns,” points out that lawns began sprouting up in America in the nineteenth century. They were an attempt to emulate trendier Europeans and, more important, to display wealth and status. Fast forward to today, and a house doesn’t seem complete without its neatly-mowed spread of Kentucky bluegrass. Unfortunately, our obsession with lawns comes with a host of problems.

As you can see, we aren’t purists. Here, native mock orange (white flowers), snowberry, and fireweed thrive amid California poppies and some kind of honeysuckle I can’t recall the name of!

Especially in the West, lawns gobble up water that we can scarcely afford. Just how much depends on location and other factors, but keeping a lawn alive can devour between 15 and 75% of a family’s household water consumption. Keeping those lawns green and pristine-looking also can be expensive, especially factoring in the gas and electricity required to run lawnmowers, and the fertilizers and herbicides to keep lawns green and weed-free. Speaking of “weed-free,” despite industry claims that herbicides and other garden chemicals are safe, I am skeptical. Do you really want to be dumping things into the soil that may persist for decades and have unknown long-term health risks. I don’t—especially when my yard sits only twenty feet above the aquifer that I and the rest of my community depends on for drinking water.

Despite industry claims, I don’t think we’ll know the full impacts of a lot of chemicals for years. Unless we want to keep repeating chemical disasters, it seems prudent to avoid commercial herbicides and insecticides whenever possible. Replacing at least a bit of your lawn with native plants is a great way to do that.

All that said, my biggest beef with imported lawns and plants is that they have needlessly transformed productive habitat into sterile expanses with almost no useful function. Sure, a lawn is great for kids to play on—we keep a patch of it ourselves—but our grass obsessions have come at an extreme cost to wildlife, especially to native insects and birds. Many of you have probably heard the shocking statistics that America has lost one quarter of its breeding birds in the short space of fifty years. There are many causes for this, but habitat loss probably ranks at the top. While much of this loss may have been unavoidable, in the case of our lawns, it is not.

Even common, beloved birds have seen dramatic declines in the past fifty years, and habitat loss is often a culprit. Yards filled with native plants can be a major step in reversing this trend. (This is a newly-fledged Black-capped Chickadee sitting in one of our mock orange plants.)

Author Douglas Tallamy (Nature’s Best Hope) points out that 40 million acres of our nation’s natural habitats have been converted to turfgrass—an area about 42% the size of Montana! If we “turf owners” convert just half of our lawns to native habitat, it will restore an area larger than the Everglades, Yellowstone, Yosemite, Grand Teton, Canyonlands, Mount Rainier, North Cascades, Badlands, Olympic, Sequoia, Grand Canyon, Denali, and the Great Smoky Mountains National Parks. Talk about your game changer!

One great thing about native plants is that once you put a few in, they find where else they want to be. This patch of beebalm came up totally on its own—much to the delight of honey bees, bumblebees, and butterflies. (Golden currant in the background, angling up to the right.)

Fortunately, converting your yard to native plants is fairly easy to do. A simple online search reveals nurseries that offer native plants all over our state (also check your native plant society—see below). You don’t have to create your own “national park” all at once. Just dig up a strip of your present lawn and put in some native shrubs. Here in Montana, you’ll want to stick to deer-resistant plants such buffaloberry, juniper, or maple sumac—or better yet, protect plants with fencing until they grow large enough to thwart deer. Before planting trees, think about how big that tree is going to be in fifty or one hundred years—and plant it in an appropriate spot. If you live in a fire area, you’ll want to make sure you keep a defensible space around your house, too.

Native plants don’t just “grow” native insects. Many provide fruit and seeds for birds, as this berry-laden serviceberry branch shows.

Incorporating native plants into your yard brings immediate rewards. Our modest native plantings attract chickadees, juncos, wrens, kinglets, and other native birds, many of them feeding on the insects that the plants produce. Why not join the fun? You’ll discover a whole new aspect of gardening, and take satisfaction in helping the wildlife we hold dear.

This House Wren and its mate successfully raised a batch of youngsters in our yard last summer. At times, the pair were bringing caterpillars and other insects to their chicks every two or three minutes! To my satisfaction, I watched them grab most of these insects right off of the native plants in our yard!

Sneed’s Favorite Native Plants for the Yard That Don’t Need Deer Protection: buffaloberry, maple sumac, juniper, mountain mahogany, chocolate coneflower, yellow coneflower, Oregon grape, pussytoes.

Sneed’s Favorite Native Plants That Do Need Deer Protection (at least until they grow larger): golden currant, beebalm, burr oak, purple coneflower, mock orange, aspen, rabbitbrush, serviceberry, cottonwood (need a LARGE space).

A Word of Advice: Never, EVER plant any grasses unless you really know what you’re doing. Even native grasses can quickly get out of hand—as I have learned the hard way.

To find out sources of native plants and seeds, check the website of the Montana Native Plant Society. They have lists of resources for every part of the state! If you don’t live in Montana, you probably have your own native plant society you can look up! Here in Missoula, another great resource is Watershed Consulting, which has a wonderful native plant nursery. You can get their list via:

Website: www.mtnativeplants.com; Email:  hello@mtnativeplants.com; Andy Martinez, manager: 406.529.7746

If you can’t find a good source of native plants near you, call up the wonderful Audubon native plant database. There you can just enter your zip code and begin finding the best plants to put in near you. Even better, you can purchase the plants directly from the website.

For another great, and more detailed post, about transforming your yard into habitat, check out Shane Sater’s excellent post on his “Wild for Nature” website!

Birding Barcelona, Part 1: The Urban Core

Since Braden and I started FatherSonBirding in 2018, I’ve posted a lot about birding in the company of Braden (of course) and my daughter, Tessa. You parents, though, may recognize that with growing kids at home it can be difficult to get one-on-one time with your actual spouse. Last week, Amy and I began to rectify this situation with our first couples vacation in seven years. Our destination was a place we had dreamed of visiting for more than a decade—Barcelona, Spain.

It’s no accident that I booked a hotel near what may be Barcelona’s largest urban parks.

I admit that Barcelona did not draw me for its birding opportunities. The promise of stunning architecture, great tapas, and practicing my Spanish, though, outweighed any potential avian shortcomings. Nonetheless, it will come as no surprise that I felt determined to scour this remarkable European city for every bird possible. I set a goal of 50 or 60 species for the week. Even more intriguing, my life list stood at 999 species. “Which bird will put me over the top?” I wondered.

I booked us in the Park Hotel, an awesome little place in the historic El Born neighborhood near the Barceloneta Metro Station, the Estacio de Franca train station, the waterfront, and hundreds of uber cool restaurants and shops. I did not admit to Amy that I also booked the place because it sat only a block from one of the city’s largest urban parks, Parc de la Ciutadella. As soon as our plane landed, we bought 5-day Metro passes and rode the subway into town. Emerging from Barceloneta Station, I immediately saw both Rose-ringed and Monk Parakeets noisily flying overhead—and then I spotted a black bird atop a light post. I recognized it right away as my bird #1,000—a Spotless Starling!

Bird 1000! A Spotless Starling! Under FatherSonBirding Rules of Full Disclosure, I am still waiting for someone to tell me that this is actually a European Starling. Apparently, they sometimes also take on this “all black” appearance. If that does turn out to be the case, Yellow-legged Gull will assume Bird #1000 honors!

It wasn’t until the next morning, though, that I seriously plunged into Barcelona birding by rising early and heading over to Ciutadella. It was a glorious, crisp morning and even before I reached the park gates, I noted a procession of parakeets, gulls, magpies, and Western Cattle Egrets flying toward the park. Like many urban parks, Ciutadella has a rather down-trodden, worked-over feel to it. Leaves have been obsessively raked, precluding the development of healthy soil layers (and the insect prey they could produce), and very little mid-sized vegetation exists. Still, I set out optimistically and almost immediately encountered Great Tits, a Eurasian Blue Tit, a European Robin, and my lifer European Serin.

Though I never got a great photo of one, Merlin’s Sound ID picked up European Serins in multiple places I birded. I worried I wouldn’t be able to recognize these as a number of yellowish, stripy, finchy birds live in Catalonia.

Wandering haphazardly, I quickly discovered that the park was the Monk Parakeet capital of Barcelona. Not only did this introduced South American species seem to love roosting and nesting in the palms, many people actually enjoyed feeding them, even early in the morning. This included several people who had pitched their tents in the park and evidently lived there (the tents had been cleared out by the end of the week—perhaps in preparation for a giant convention that was about to descend on the city).

Aaaaaaw! Monk Parakeets in love. Or at least sharing food. Or perhaps trying to peck each other’s eyes out.

I kept picking up birds, though, including Common Chiffchaffs, Eurasian Blackbirds, Eurasian Magpies, Rose-ringed Parakeets and then, an especially exciting discovery—my lifer Sardinian Warblers!

Before the trip, I spent a lot of time learning the differences between Sardinian Warblers (shown here) and Eurasian Blackcaps. Once in the field, it was easy to tell them apart—as long as I managed to get a decent look!

What I hadn’t seen so far were any water features, but crossing under a giant gold-plated monument (the Monòlit a la festa de l’arbre de 1899), I encountered a couple of reflecting ponds. In them, I saw a “must-see” species I had somehow never observed in all of my travels—Graylag Goose! Along with the geese, I got good looks at both Black-headed and much beefier Yellow-legged Gulls. I kept an eye out for Lesser Black-backed Gulls, but could never confirm one the entire week.

https://ebird.org/checklist/S161951923

I scored my lifer Graylag Geese right down the block from our hotel, in Ciutadella park. Note the Black-headed Gulls frolicking in the background.

I ended my session with a surprisingly robust 23 species, but my week of birding Barcelona had just begun. During the next few days, I kept my travel binoculars slung around my neck, birding tourist-jammed city streets as well as any greenery I could find. I spotted my only Eurasian Jackdaw in a tree on the well-known avenue, Passeig de Gracia. I was delighted to discover a flock of 20 adorable introduced (and lifer) Common Waxbills in the Placa de Gaudi, right across the street from the modern wonder, Sagrada Familia. (This cathedral, designed by the brilliant Catalan architect Antoni Gaudí, is reason enough to visit Barcelona!) I finally saw the trip’s first European Greenfinches and Long-tailed Tits in the marvellous Parc Güell—one of the city’s better urban birding places and another great place to see Gaudí’s handiwork. My best urban birding opportunity, though, still lay ahead.

Though Common Waxbills are species introduced from Africa, I was thoroughly enchanted by these little “red bandits” when I encountered them across from Sagrada Familia (phone photo).

On our fourth day in Barcelona, we caught the H14 bus to the Parel-lel Metro station, but instead of boarding the Metro, we rode the funicular up the hill to Montjuïc, a prominent mini-mountain overlooking the city’s southern area. Only a couple of hundred meters away from the exit stood one of our top cultural destinations, Fundació Juan Miró, aka the Miró museum. A bit less famous than Picasso, Miró was Picasso’s contemporary, and even better, we caught a joint exhibit featuring the work of both men. After a thoroughly enjoyable hour or two there—and excellent quiche in their café—we walked up the hill heading for an even more exciting destination. Along the way—and with the help of Merlin’s Sound ID—I located my lifer Eurasian Blackcap.

One of the most common birds I encountered in Spain, the Common Chiffchaff always brought a smile to my face, both for its name and its lively behavior. That said, I also always doubted my ID of this bird since they come in several shades of yellow and brown.

We emerged onto a road running along the top of Montjuïc and were making our way gradually downhill toward the Olympic stadium, when I spotted what looked like a prairie dog in a small field below and to our right. I had other suspicions, however, and raised my binoculars to find those suspicions confirmed: a Eurasian Hoopoe! I hadn’t seen one since Israel, but they are apparently a lot less common in Spain, and I was delighted to see its Picasso-esque crest, long curved bill, and graphic brown, white, and black color pattern. I was glad to show it to Amy, too, since we had first seen one together in Ethiopia almost 20 years before!

The first Black Redstart I saw in Spain was working over balcony planters in a densely packed neighborhood of apartment buildings in Barceloneta—a clue to how adaptable this handsome species is.

Another couple of hundred meters brought us to Jardí Bòtanic de Barcelona, and my pulse accelerated as we paid our 3-Euro entry fees and entered. Finally, I would get to bird a somewhat natural area! The only question was, what I would find?

The visit got off to a great start with sightings of Black Redstarts, European Robins, and another blackcap. Making our way around to a little pond, the excitement accelerated with half a dozen flycatching Common Chiffchaffs, another Black Redstart, and a pair of White-Wagtails—the fourth country I’ve now seen this bird in.

Though I’d seen European Robins in Amsterdam, Israel, and Japan, this is the first one that ever fully cooperated with my camera. Love it!

As we headed up to the higher parts of the gardens, a series of unfamiliar high notes pierced the air. I looked around and detected movement on a nearby tree trunk. It belonged to none other than a pair of Short-toed Treecreepers, a bird stunningly analogous to our Brown Creepers, and a species I never thought I’d see in Spain. Awesome!!!!

A series of high sharp notes alerted me to the presence of several Short-toed Treecreepers, a species I had only dared hope to see in Spain.

The treecreepers weren’t the last birds we saw in the gardens, but they were probably the coolest. Our 80-minute visit plus the Miró museum marked this as our most fun day so far—but I had one more major Barcelona birding adventure scheduled for the last day of the trip. Find out what it was by reading my next post. Same bird time. Same bird channel.

https://ebird.org/checklist/S162445992

Birding Japan: Quick Stop in Nagano

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.

Welcome to Sneed’s fifth—and penultimate—post on his and Tessa’s recent trip to Japan. Once again, some of the least expected places lead to some marvelous birding surprises—this time in the site of the 1998 Olympics, Nagano. Please feel free to share this post and catch up on the other Japan installments.

After a wonderful two-night visit to Kanazawa, Tessa and I definitely felt like we’d passed the halfway mark of our trip as we boarded the shinkansen back toward Tokyo. First, however, I’d scheduled a brief stop in the home of the 1998 Winter Olympics—Nagano. To be honest, I didn’t know if we’d have much to do there. Japan’s famous “hot springs monkeys” lived outside of town, but a little research had shown it probably wouldn’t be worth the hassle to try to find them. Nagano also was home to the very famous Zenko-ji Temple, but it turns out that the train ride alone was worth making the entire loop back to Tokyo. Leaving Kanazawa, the bullet train quickly began hugging a section of the wildest ocean I’d yet seen in Japan. Meanwhile, on the other side of the train, enormous snow-covered peaks rose suddenly and majestically. Passing through the town of Itoigawa, population 40,000, I even imagined living there—that is, until I learned it receives more than 100 inches of rain per year!

We arrived in Nagano about 11:00 and left our bags at our economy hotel, a perfectly clean, comfortable place that cost less than $90 a night. Then we took a leisurely stroll about a mile up to Zenko-ji Temple, which truly was impressive and a bit mysterious. The map showed the temple surrounded by parks and I thought I might find some cool birds there, but I didn’t espy anything particularly interesting. I soothed my disappointment by trying this kind of apple custard tart thing just outside of the temple and thought, “Ah, well, can’t find birds everwhere.”

The next morning, however, I woke at 6:00 a.m. wide awake. Tessa was still snoozing so I’m sure you can guess what I did. On a map, I had noticed a small tributary of the Sai River about half a mile from the hotel. Plenty of time to sneak in a bit ‘o birding before breakfast. Nagano was so built up I had few expectations—and actually wasn’t even sure I could access the river itself. Even before I neared it, though, I was surprised by a large flock of Asian House-Martins flying over a large street. It didn’t take long to discover they were nesting under a pedestrian bridge and I paused for ten minutes to study and enjoy them.

Though I had glimpsed Asian House-Martins in Kanazawa, it was a real pleasure to visit them up-close and personal!

Several blocks later, I was delighted to reach the river and discover that nice footpaths ran along both sides of it. I saw only the usual suspects until I crossed a bridge to the other side. Suddenly, I glimpsed an unusual brown shape taking flight and landing on another nearby branch. “Oh my god!” I muttered out loud, rapidly quickening my pace while simultaneously turning on my camera. I took a quick photo and then confirmed it through my binoculars. It was a species I had badly wanted to see—but figured I’d exhausted my last opportunity: Bull-headed Shrike!

I was SO HAPPY to finally see a Bull-headed Shrike that I was grinning and talking to myself. I’m surprised the citizens of Nagano didn’t call the police with reports of a crazy foreigner wandering around.

The shrike behaved like our shrikes back home, but with even less fear. I followed it as it worked its way upstream and am glad I did. I immediately spotted another Meadow Bunting in a bush up ahead, and several Eurasian Greenfinches feeding in someone’s front yard. Then, as the shrike approached one riverside clump of bushes, two Daurian Redstarts popped up to challenge it!

And I present . . . yet another lousy photo of a Eurasian Greenfinch!

I was grinning broadly by this time, not believing my luck, but the session was far from over. As I made my way back downstream and across the river, I also saw White-cheeked Starlings, a Great Cormorant, Oriental Turtle-dove, a Dusky Thrush, and more.

Despite seeing them almost everywhere, I never tired of seeing White-cheeked Starlings. If only I could say the same for our European Starlings back home!

As I approached my exit point, I noticed movement in a thick patch of bushes. I quickly identified several Masked Buntings, but that wasn’t all. I’m pretty sure I saw a Japanese Bush Warbler. Then, to cap it off, a female Daurian Redstart gave me a terrific photo session (even if I didn’t have a terrific photo device), posing for many moments on various branches as the morning sun beautifully illuminated it. The whole experience once again proved that when in doubt, you should always take a look and that, really, you just never know.

Sneed’s eBird checklist of Nagano.

Birding Japan: Kyoto

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.

Welcome to Part 3 of Sneed’s recent Japan adventure. If you missed the first couple of Japan posts, start here. As always, we appreciate your interest, and please share these with anyone you think will enjoy them.

Our journey to Kyoto gave us one last chance to ride the Enoshima Electric Railway, the adorable little train Tessa and I both fell in love with during our long, rainy weekend in Kamakura. In fact, Japan’s train system is so well thought-out that we simply rode the EER to the end of the line in Fujisowa to catch the Tokaido train to Odawara. There, we boarded the shinkansen (bullet train) for the two-hour ride to Kyoto. Easy peasy. I have to say, however, that Kyoto Station was quite a bit more confusing than Tokyo or any of the other stations we’d visited, but fortunately I knew which subway to catch to our accommodation, a rather modern version of a traditional Japanese inn, or ryokan. As far as I can tell, there’s no perfect location to stay in Kyoto, but our place was only an 8-10 minute walk to two different subway stations. Even better, it was close to what turned out to be a wonderful birding spot, the Kamo River—a place that Tessa and I would return to several times.

Our first look at Kyoto’s Kamo River convinced us to return as often as possible. Kyoto’s birds felt the same way!

Our first full day in Kyoto, I planned for us to visit Fushimi Inari Taisha, a shrine famous for its hundreds (thousands?) of red “torii” gates straddling the paths leading up the mountain. Conveniently, to catch the train to the shrine, we got to walk along the Kamo River. It was a glorious day and many others were out enjoying the sunshine and blooming sakura trees. For my part, I also couldn’t help noticing a lot of birds enjoying the relatively unkempt river bed—including a real surprise, Common Merganser, a duck that we often see in our rivers in Montana!

We finished Fushimi Inari Taisha early enough that we decided to go ahead and visit Kyoto’s Imperial Palace and the surrounding Kyoto Gyoen National Garden. The palace was impressively, well, palatial and I was hoping for some excellent birding in the gardens. The over-manicured park, however, once again limited its attractiveness to only the hardiest of species. I did run into a nice little mixed flock that contained a Warbling White-eye, Long-tailed Tit, and my lifer Japanese Bush Warbler, but have to say that I was disappointed overall. Nothing that a big bowl of steaming hot ramen at Ichiran Ramen didn’t cure!

The next morning, after hitting Kyoto Station to reserve shinkansen tickets for the upcoming legs of our trip, we rode a JR local train out to Arashiyama. Tessa had especially been wanting to visit a bamboo grove, and a large, famous one grew here. We also visited Kameyama Park, located at the mouth of the Katsura River gorge. The sakura were especially wonderful here and, well, the birds turned out to be pretty great, too! As we strolled the gorgeous grounds, I saw a Warbling White-eye and the complete triumvirate of tits: Japanese, Varied, and Long-tailed. Just saying the word “tit” provokes giggles but these birds are essentially the Old World version of chickadees. They look like chickadees. They behave like chickadees. Just as in the States, if you see a tit, chances are other interesting birds are lurking nearby, so I am always happy to spot one.

Following the trails down to the river, we encountered a nice collection of ducks and my first-ever Japanese Wagtail and House Swift! By this time, large crowds had gathered to enjoy the sunshine and sights, so after a quick bite at a local food stand, we high-tailed it back to our ryokan. Our birding in Kyoto was not quite finished, however. I managed two more sessions at Kamo River, the final one the evening before our departure. Tessa was chilling in our room after a busy day of seeing Nijo Castle and the Manga Museum, and doing some gift shopping  in Teramachi-dori, one of the expansive covered street malls that seem to be popular in Japan. I had some extra energy so decided on taking one last visit to the river.

It was a lovely afternoon, and hundreds of Kyoto residents were out taking advantage of it. I walked downstream, enjoying the Black Kites flying overhead and Gray Herons, Great and Little Egrets, Great Cormorants, ducks, and Japanese and White Wagtails along the river. One thing I’d sorely missed on the trip were any kind of shorebirds, but suddenly I saw a suspicious bird standing on a rock across the river. From eBird quizzes I’d taken, I immediately guessed that my shorebird drought might be at an end and that this could be a Common Sandpiper. I was too far away to get a good look at the bill, though, and it seemed too short. That was good because it forced me to call up the Merlin app and dive deeper into the Common Sandpiper’s ID features. Two things stuck out: COSAs had a prominent white “spur” at the shoulder and they often bobbed their tails like wagtails. I again focused my binoculars. “Yep,” I said out loud. “That’s a Common Sandpiper!” Just a few minutes later I saw yet another bird sitting on a rock in the river—this one a Gray Wagtail, completing the “Wagtail Trilogy” for the trip. Neither the Common Sandpiper nor Gray Wagtail were lifers for me, but they brought my Japan bird list up to 47 species. More important, they were an awesome way to finish up our time in Kyoto.

More, much more, lay in store.

Sneed’s Kameyama Park eBird checklist.

Sneed’s final Kamo River eBird checklist.

Birding Japan: Tokyo, Part I

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sneed’s Kasai Rinkai Park eBird checklist.