Tag Archives: Warblers

Untangling Birdsong with Merlin’s Sound ID

Braden and I write FatherSonBirding in the hopes of sharing the wonders of birds and birding, and the urgency to protect them. We do not accept advertising or donations, but if you’d like to support our work, please consider buying *NEW* copies of some of Sneed’s books—First-Time Japan, for instance, or my picture book for younger readers, Birds of Every Color. We appreciate your interest and hope you will keep reading!

The birds are back! Well, at least a lot of them. Last weekend, our dog Lola and I hiked our favorite four-mile loop from our house up to a ridge called the Mount Jumbo Saddle and then back down past what has become my favorite “bird thicket” in Missoula. We first began hiking this route when I was training to take Braden’s scouting troop to Philmont Scout Camp in 2019. Honestly, Lola isn’t crazy about the route since she hates loud noises and we often hear guns firing from a range a couple of miles away. I keep making her do it, though, because I’ve discovered that it’s a great way to keep up with the neighborhood bird community, especially in spring. The past couple of years, I’ve tried to do this route on a regular basis, carefully recording new arrivals and learning more about their migration patterns.

The past couple of years, Lola and I have regularly hiked up to Mount Jumbo Saddle and back to check in on which birds are currently in residence. Lola likes the route except for the gunshots she hears from east Missoula!

Songbird migration builds slowly here in Montana. This year in late March, I noted the first Western Meadowlarks, Western Bluebirds, and Spotted Towhees on the route—but four weeks later, April 21, not much had changed. Two weeks after that—yesterday—the dam broke. I set off up the hill hoping to see perhaps the year’s first Vesper Sparrows, but quickly discovered that new arrivals were spouting off everywhere I turned. It began halfway up Jumbo Saddle when I heard a song that reminded me of a Western Meadowlark and I guessed that it was my season’s first Vesper Sparrow. The problem? I didn’t know for sure—a situation faced by millions of birders who have not, or cannot, learn more than a few bird vocalizations.

**In our neck of the woods, Spotted Towhees are among the earliest spring songbird migrants. Fortunately, their weird “bouncing ball” rattle is easy to pick out.**

What to do?

In the past couple of years, I have developed a strategy for dealing with these situations—one that might help you, too. It used to be that when you heard a song or call that you couldn’t identify, one’s options were limited. You could just guess, and play various bird calls on your app, hoping to land on the right one. You could record the call and play it back to an expert. More often, you’d try to follow the song and get a visual on the bird to see what it was. Unfortunately, all of these methods are slow and cumbersome, and in spring, well, there are just too many vocalizations to keep up with.

And then along came Merlin’s Sound ID feature.

Sound ID is (almost) every birder’s dream. You simply tap a button on the Merlin phone app and it begins recording and identifying the songs and calls around you in real time. The app is not infallible. You have to be fairly close to birds for it to pick up and identify them, and the app has difficulty handling background noises such as wind, rushing streams, and cars roaring by on a freeway. The app also makes mistakes. Starlings, mockingbirds, and Steller’s Jays can fool it with their imitations of other birds. If the app only picks up part of a call, it sometimes can mistake one bird for another. The bottom line: you should never use the app alone to identify a bird.

So how do you make proper use of it? I employ it in two ways.

Strategy One: Confirmation

The first is to confirm a song or call that I may be somewhat familiar with—but am not 100% sure about. The putative Vesper Sparrow in the second paragraph is a perfect example. In past years, I had learned that a Vesper Sparrow kind of sounds like the call of a Western Meadowlark—but a bit simpler and cruder. When I heard a “somewhat meadowlark” call near Mount Jumbo Saddle, I immediately thought “Vesper Sparrow” but couldn’t be sure, so I started Sound ID. Sure enough, the song lit up as Vesper Sparrow. Other things made me confident about this ID, too. The timing was right from previous years. Most important, I was standing in perfect Vesper Sparrow habitat—open meadows with tall grass and scattered perching shrubs.

**The arrival of Vesper Sparrows is a cause célèbre for Braden and me. I always need to confirm its meadowlark-like song, however.**

As my hike continued, in fact, I used Sound ID to confirm several other birds in this way, including Steller’s Jay and the year’s first Chipping Sparrows and Yellow-rumped Warblers. Things were about to get more challenging, however.

Strategy Two: Possible Presence

Not long after hearing my first (and second, third, and fourth) Vesper Sparrow, I reached a nice brushy area where Braden and I have heard Orange-crowned Warblers in previous years. Unfortunately for me, I have a very difficult time distinguishing one warbler song from another. I usually recognize Yellow-rumped Warblers when they first show up, but as other species arrive they plunge me into, in the words of Sir Topham Hatt, “confusion and delay.” This morning, I could hear what sounded like warblers—but I didn’t know which ones.

Again, Sound ID comes in very useful in these situations because it can give you an idea of what to look for. I started a new recording and the app failed to come up with any Orange-crowned Warblers. It did, however, identify Yellow-rumped, Yellow, and most exciting, Nashville Warblers! I did not log any of these on eBird, however—not right away. Because I am not good with warbler songs, I needed to confirm these in at least one or two other ways.

**Once the Orange-crowned Warblers arrive, I know I’m in for a real challenge to start distinguishing different warblers by song. That’s when I lean heavily on Sound ID.**

One is to compare what you are hearing with known recordings on other apps. If what you are hearing is identical to vocalizations in the Merlin sound library or on the Sibley app, depending on your experience, I feel confident that you can go ahead and record the bird—again keeping in mind the caveat that some birds imitate others.

Still, I only do this when I am really sure the two songs are the same—understanding that bird songs from the same species can vary tremendously. If I have any doubts, I wait to log a bird on eBird until I have confirmed it with a visual sighting or by running it past an expert. With this technique, Sound ID isn’t cinching the identification for me, but it is helping me a lot by giving me a better idea of what to look for.

This morning, however, I could not find any of the three warblers in the first thicket, so Lola and I kept hiking. Ten minutes later, I spotted a Yellow-rumped Warbler in a tree—and recorded it—but it was the Nashville Warbler I was really after.

**Lincoln’s Sparrows are hands-down one of my and Braden’s favorite songbirds. Unlike the warblers, they also seem kind of curious and make themselves for visible to the eager birder.**

Eventually, I came to another thicket, and here I was thrilled to see my first Lincoln’s Sparrow of the year. Just as enticing, I also was hearing warbler sounds all around me so I turned on Sound ID once again. This time, Orange-crowned and Nashville songs started lighting up Sound ID like a pinball machine. Thanks to the app, I was quickly able to distinguish the two species by ear, and I confirmed these by playing other recordings on the Merlin library. Soon after, I actually saw the birds for myself. Yes! I thought, and finally logged them onto eBird.

**Sound ID has helped me find many more Nashville Warblers than when Braden and I first started birding ten years ago.**

All together, Lola and I saw eight new first-of-year species on our hike. For several of them, Sound ID not only helped me identify them, it alerted me to look for them in the first place. I want to emphasize, however, that Sound ID is not a substitute for putting in the hours to learn and identify birds yourself. Recently, Cornell has issued friendly cautions not to rely on it as your sole basis for identification. Instead, I consider Sound ID a wonderful “helper tool” that can especially assist beginning birders, as well as more experienced birders like myself who just find it difficult to learn vocalizations. And did I mention the Merlin app (with Sound ID) is free? Cornell Lab, the app’s developer, has generously made it available to anyone who wants it. Even better for our international readers, Cornell Lab is rapidly expanding what the app can identify to countries around the globe. All you need is a phone. Learn more at https://merlin.allaboutbirds.org/.

Checklist 1: https://ebird.org/checklist/S172160962

Checklist 2: https://ebird.org/checklist/S172176329

Meditating with Loons: Spontaneous Birding Spectacular, Part II

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Braden and I write FatherSonBirding in the hopes of sharing the wonders of birds and birding, and the urgency to protect them. We do not accept advertising or donations, but if you’d like to support our work, please consider buying *NEW* copies of some of Sneed’s books—First-Time Japan: A Step-by-Step Guide for the Independent Traveler, for instance, or the best kids’ woodpecker book ever, Woodpeckers: Drilling Holes & Bagging Bugs. Here, we are pleased to continue last week’s “spontaneous” narrative. For Part I, see our last post. Enjoy!

After giving my keynote talk to the Montana Library Association (and yes, it went well, thank you!), I changed out of my good clothes, checked out of my room and hit the road—but not too far. It was early afternoon by now, but before heading home I thought I’d better take advantage of the opportunity to visit Warm Springs Wildlife Management Area, one of Montana’s top birding destinations. It being migration season, the possibilities were almost endless of what I might find, but I kept my expectations low. Why? Primarily because much of Warm Springs is not easily accessible. The refuge consists mainly of several very large reservoirs designed to help clean toxic chemicals from the waters pouring out of the world famous Berkeley Pit copper mine in Butte. The road, however, only gets close to these bodies of water in certain places, so it’s easy to miss rarities that might show up. Nonetheless, I took the “back entrance” into the refuge and soon found myself at the bottom of the large, southernmost reservoir. The scene before me immediately put me in a happy place.

**This photo doesn’t capture the size and scope of the Warm Springs ponds—or how amazing they look filled with waterfowl!**

Stretching across the water were hundreds, no, thousands of ducks and other water birds, and I quickly set up my scope for a proper look. I usually try to estimate bird numbers wherever I am, but as I searched across the reservoir with the scope, I quickly abandoned that effort. I recorded 5000 coots, but that could easily be low. I also saw hundreds of Northern Shovelers and Ruddy Ducks, and noted plenty of Buffleheads, Ring-necked Ducks, Lesser Scaups, Gadwalls, American Wigeons, and more. A duck party!

**Just a few of the birds stretching out before me at Warm Springs. Pop quiz: can you identify three species?**

When scoping such a vast array of birds, it’s a natural instinct to look for the unusual or rare species, and after a few minutes, I landed on a pair of Red-necked Grebes—my first of the year. My biggest find, however, was the year’s first Yellow-rumped Warbler (Audubon’s) in the trees next to me! After making an inadequate attempt to eBird what I saw before me, I jumped back in the minivan and continued up the road. I passed a resident pair of Bald Eagles, and then pulled over at a small fishing access next to a long dike that separated this reservoir from the next. I grabbed my binoculars and ventured out onto the dike, and right away saw another Red-necked Grebe. Then, I recognized a bird that made me rush back to the minivan for my camera. I hurried back out onto the dike and trained my lens on it—a Common Loon!

During breeding season, Red-necked Grebes have a circumpolar distribution, but in the US they breed only in a few areas along our northern border. Fortunately, Montana is one of those places—though this guy/gal may well have been heading to Canada or Alaska.

Now, loons are not exactly rare in Montana, but they aren’t gimmes, either (for instance, see post “Rare Bird Hat Trick”). Last year, I saw only one—a quick fly-over at Glacier National Park. If you don’t visit one of the lakes where they breed in summer, you have to catch them during migration. Braden and I have seen a number of COLOs during fall migration, but this was the first I could remember in spring. But wait. As I was trying to get a decent photo of this loon, another one popped up nearby. “No way!” I muttered out loud. But wait, then I spotted a third, and eventually, a fourth! (I think I saw a fifth, but these ‘torpedoes’ can travel so far under water that I can’t be sure.)

**This pair of Common Loons defines the word serenity.**

Needless to say, I felt “loonstatic.” My only problem? Every bird was backlit, making a good photo impossible. To try to rectify this, I walked around to the parking area where I could get “up-light” of the birds, hoping they wouldn’t depart before I reached a good spot. They didn’t. I took enough photos that I finally got a really nice one (see below). My other problem, though, is that . . . I needed to relax.

**After capturing my best COLO shot ever, it was time to Zen out with some quiet loon time.**

More and more, recently, Braden and I have discussed the obsession to rack up species and get good photos without pausing to really appreciate them. Both of us, in fact, have been making an effort just to be still in the moment, and with four stunningly gorgeous loons diving for food in front of me, this seemed like a perfect time. I sat down on a rock and set my camera and binoculars on the ground next to me. I watched the loons for a few moments and then just closed my eyes. I thanked the universe for this special moment and tried to breathe deeply, focusing on the now for a few minutes.

Alas, I did not attain “loon-lightenment,” but when I opened my eyes, the loons were still floating, preening, and diving in front of me. Several times, I watched them surface with crayfish in their bills. I’m not sure if the loons did anything special to them, such as knocking loose their exoskeletons, but down the hatch they went. It was beautiful.

**A little “crawfish loon-touffée” for lunch!**

My birding had not finished, either. After Warm Springs, I tooled up the road a few miles to another spot that many birders don’t take time to check out—Racetrack Pond. Often, there’s not much to see at Racetrack, but I had occasionally stumbled into some treats. Again, it was migration season, so you just never knew. As I pulled off the interstate and turned right, I immediately saw a couple of hundred gulls out on small islands in the pond. “Hm,” I thought. “Maybe I can pick up some California Gulls there.” As I drove closer, however, I realized that they weren’t gulls. They were Snow Geese!

I pulled over and again set up the spotting scope—and not just to see the Snow Geese. I had an ulterior motive. Almost exactly a year earlier, at Browns Lake, I had stumbled into some migrating Ross’s Geese mixed in with a large Snow Geese flock. “Maybe there are some Ross’s hiding in this one,” I thought with an evil grin. I diligently scanned the flock for several minutes, mainly looking for any geese with stubby pink bills. Ross’s, though, also are a bit smaller than SNGO and tend to have a cleaner, whiter appearance. I thought I was going to strike out when I glimpsed two geese that fit the, ahem, bill. I watched them for at least ten minutes before discarding any doubts. Yay! This was only my third time ever seeing Ross’s Geese, and to get them two years in a row felt like an accomplishment. By the way, ROGOs are also a wonderful conservation success story. Their numbers had dropped to just a few thousand by the 1950s. Today, it is estimated that there are more than two million! Let’s hear it for conservation!

**Can you pick out the two Ross’s Geese in this photo? Once you know what you’re looking for, they stand out like, well, um, Ross’s Geese.** **The prominent, clean white goose just right of center is one of them. The other is swimming toward it from about 10 o’clock.**

My discoveries weren’t over. At the north end of the pond, I again pulled out the scope to discover a Greater Yellowlegs, a Killdeer, and two real surprises—an American Avocet and five, count ‘em, FIVE Marbled Godwits. “Perhaps they’re heading to the same place as yesterday’s Willets,” I wondered (see our last post). I later learned that large flocks of avocets had been rampaging through the state, so this one was right on schedule.

**With the help of my spotting scope, I was able to pick out the American Avocet (far left) and Marbled Godwits (far right) along the far shore of Racetrack Pond.**

With another wonderful day of birding under my belt, it was time to head home, but really, these days just primed my birding pump. Many adventures lie ahead—especially when Braden returns home from Costa Rica in a couple of weeks. Be prepared for plenty of posts this summer!

College Search Birding in California

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If you’ve been following FatherSonBirding for any length of time, you know two things about us: we love to travel and we love to bird. Sometimes we plan dedicated birding trips, but whenever possible, we like to go easy on our carbon footprints and fold birding into travel that we were going to do anyway. In the past year, for instance, I’ve been able to bird in Japan and Spain while taking family vacation trips I’d been planning for years. Often, I get to bird while taking business trips to, say, Texas or Missouri. Right now, Braden is birding his butt off while doing a semester of study abroad in Costa Rica. As the parent of two young people, another potential “double-dipping” birding opportunity arose when my children began thinking about college. After all, it’s a good idea to visit a college you might want to attend, right? Unfortunately, covid kai-boshed that possibility with Braden—though we did get to bird in New England when I took him back east to start his college career at the University of Maine. With my second child, Tessa, I’ve been more fortunate. Last week she and I took a lightning trip out to California to visit a couple of potential schools she is considering. Even better, we went to places I’d never gotten to bird.

Cal State Chico put on a show for us in its best spring colors. Not surprisingly, I saw some great birds there, too, including Red-shouldered Hawks, California Scrub-Jays, and Acorn Woodpeckers—right on campus!

After rising at 3:30 a.m., Tessa and I landed in Sacramento at the outrageously convenient hour of 9:00 a.m. It was a glorious, sunny California morning and we made a beeline to U.C. Davis, where I’d spent my own freshman year before transferring to U.C. Berkeley to finish out my college years. Davis had changed a lot, but I still managed to find my way around—though I did drive our rental car down a dedicated bike path, much to the consternation of dozens of student bicyclists trying to get to class! After a quick tour around campus, we found a parking spot downtown and decided to have lunch at Crepeville and while waiting in line, I finally had a chance to start looking around for birds. One of the huge regrets of my life is that I’d left California before I’d become a birder because, with the possible exceptions of Texas and Alaska, there is no better state in the union to bird. To wit, within yards of Crepeville, I spotted Yellow-rumped Warblers, a Black Phoebe, and a Western Bluebird—right in downtown Davis! But my college search birding had just begun!

**Just the name phoebe can’t help but melt a birder’s heart, but these Black Phoebes truly are handsome birds.**

After a quick tour of Davis we headed north to our primary college destination, Cal State Chico, which boasts a musical theatre program of particular interest to Tessa. We arrived in Chico pretty pooped from our already extensive exertions and checked into our hotel for a rest. The prospect of some deeper California birding, however, did not let me tarry long, and after twenty minutes I left Tessa to recharge while I headed to the dubiously named Hooker Oak Park.

Any trip to California is a chance to see some of California’s specialty birds—including Yellow-billed Magpies, which only live in selected areas of central California. On Braden’s instruction, one morning I got up early to drive to Durham High School, and sure enough, found me a pair!

To be honest, the park looked a little over-developed and ragged, and I wondered whether I should move to some healthier-looking oak groves just down the road. Then I reminded myself that this was California and birds were likely to be anywhere. Almost immediately, this was confirmed when I sighted one of the targets of my trip, an Oak Titmouse singing in a sycamore tree.

**What can I say? Oak Titmice are just plain adorable.**

I set out to explore further and birds popped out from left and right—including most of the birds I had hoped to see. I got super excited to see an Acorn Woodpecker—only to discover that they were everywhere in this park. Not long after, I encountered a Nuttall’s Woodpecker, the other woodpecker at the top of my list.

You can’t beat an Acorn Woodpecker on one of its acorn storage trees! With their black masks, these cooperative birds look like banditos, and the way they aggressively mob other species, they apparently can act that way, too.

Exploring further, I encountered California and Spotted Towhees, Golden and White-crowned Sparrows, and White-breasted Nuthatches.

With my lousy hearing and dearth of knowledge about California bird calls, Merlin’s Sound ID feature proved especially useful and helped me find several species, including California Quail. My biggest surprise of the outing were two Hermit Thrushes, which hadn’t been on my radar at all but do winter in the Central Valley.

One disappointment was that I didn’t hear or see any Red-shouldered Hawks, a particularly abundant species in California. As I was about to climb back into my rental car, however, I heard a familiar “Kee-a, kee-a, kee-a, kee-a!” and spotted a large reddish bird flying straight toward me. As it passed overhead and landed on a branch, I saw that it held a tasty mammalian morsel in its talons. Almost immediately, another Red-shouldered Hawk plowed in and displaced the first one, stealing its meal. I grinned. Not only did I get to see a RSHA, I got to see hawk behavior, too!

**This Red-shouldered Hawk drove another RSHA off its prey, which it now holds firmly in its grasp.**

The next two days, Tessa and I visited with some of my most cherished friends, who had happened to move to Chico decades before, and, oh yeah, we took a great tour of the Chico campus. The campus, I gotta say, mightily impressed both Tessa and me. Chico is part of the WUE college exchange program, meaning that if any of you Montana parents are also contemplating schools, you can get big discounts on out-of-state tuition. But back to the birds, I continued to see awesome birds everywhere we went. I did want to get in a visit to another bona fide natural area, though, so the day of our campus tours, I woke early and drove out to Bidwell-Sacramento River State Park, about fifteen minutes out of town.

**In the parking lot of Bidwell-Sacramento River State Park, I got my best looks ever at another California specialty, Nuttall’s Woodpecker.**

I arrived before dawn—actually a bit early for the birds—but a group of 55 Wild Turkeys greeted me, so I went ahead and set off on dew-soaked trails paralleling the river. I had set a goal of 50 bird species for this California trip and began the day at about 45—but quickly blew past that. Almost immediately, I saw Wood Ducks hanging out in the trees and spotted two pairs of kingfishers bickering over the river. As the day warmed, more species kept appearing: a Great Egret and Great Blue Herons, tons of flickers and Tree Swallows, Ruby-crowned Kinglets and White-breasted Nuthatches, a pair of Turkey Vultures trying to get their engines started.

**It’s easy to forget that Wood Ducks nest in trees—something I was quickly reminded of at Bidwell-Sacramento River State Park!**

After an hour, I began making my way back to the parking lot and spotted a group of Dark-eyed Juncos and White-crowned Sparrows ahead. Then, I saw something that really got me going: a small, brownish bird with short, vertical lines at the top of its breast and a yellowish wash. Lincoln’s Sparrow! And not one, but two of them! I managed only lousy photos, but was thrilled to see one of Braden’s and my favorite Montana birds hanging out in its winter habitat—and just before migration. Is it possible I will see these exact same birds in Montana in a few short weeks???

**Yay! Lincoln’s Sparrow—in its winter habitat. This, btw, was one of only two species I added to my California life list, which now stands at 226 species.** **The other was Common Merganser.**

That evening, after our tour and our drive back to Sacramento, I rallied myself for one more birding mission. After checking into our hotel in Woodland, I drove about five miles to where I-5 crosses the Sacramento River. I got off on some small side roads and began scouring fields and places with standing water. I found a few Northern Shovelers and a trio of Black-necked Stilts, but not what I was looking for. Then, I parked and began walking on a path that led back toward the interstate. Almost immediately, I saw a group of about 200 geese in a verdant field. I raised my binoculars and grinned. Yes! Greater White-fronted Geese! The last species I had really hoped to see on the trip. I stood and watched them for about ten minutes, as other geese flew over, circled around, and joined the throng. It was a perfect ending for what turned out to be a perfect college—and birding—trip.

California Trip Report: https://ebird.org/tripreport/214105

**My last target bird of the trip, Greater White-fronted Geese, captured just as the sun was setting on Sacramento.**

Braden’s First Costa Rica Report: Monteverde

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Many annoying things have kept me (Sneed) from birding so far this year. Not so Braden, who is enjoying a semester abroad in the town of San Ramón, Costa Rica. In just his first few days, he tallied almost 100 Life Birds—and he’s just getting started. Here is his first report, from a weekend trip to the cloud forest haven of Monteverde, where I visited to research a book almost thirty years ago.

The town of San Ramón and its colorful, ramshackle buildings sits in an ecological crossroads as far as Costa Rica’s ecosystems are concerned, located near Caribbean slope rainforest, Pacific slope dry forest and high-altitude cloud forest. The dry tropical forest, situated in the northwest part of the country, is a habitat characterized by distinct dry and wet seasons. The southwestern part of the country (including the Osa Peninsula) holds tropical rainforest, and these two habitats constitute the “Pacific Slope.” The “Caribbean Slope,” meanwhile, is all rainforest, although its communities differ from those of the Pacific rainforests. Why? Several large mountain ranges run through the middle of the country, reaching heights of 3,800m (about 12,500 feet) in the Talamancas to the south. These mountain ranges not only separate species living on the Pacific Slope from those living on the Caribbean Slope, but also hold another, incredibly important ecosystem: the cloud forest. This ecosystem is the one I’d been most wanting to visit since learning about it a decade ago, and so, on the first of our semester’s sixteen three-day weekends, two fellow UMaine students, Kiley Chen and Leah Hart, and I caught the bus towards Santa Elena for a two-night adventure.

**Okay, maybe we do look a little TOO happy in this photo, but can you blame us? We’re in COSTA RICA!!!**

The long and winding bus ride did not do good things for our stomachs, but soon enough, we arrived in Santa Elena. The next morning, we caught a taxi up the mountain to the Monteverde Cloud Forest Biological Reserve. Despite the fact that this reserve is a well-known tourist destination, especially during the dry season (December-April), Kiley, Leah and I were the first people to arrive, and proceeded to spend the next seven hours exploring the cloud forest, hiking nearly every trail available to us. It blew our minds.

**Cloud forests are especially known for their CRAZY abundance and diversity of epiphytes—plants that grow on other plants.**

A forest with nearly 100% humidity year-round is a botanist’s dream. Giant bromeliads grew from every branch, and we could hardly see the bark on the trees because of the high densities of moss and lichen. Thick, woody vines (known as lianas) hung down from above, and prehistoric-looking tree ferns, with the trunk of a tree and the leaves of a fern, rose above us. At one point we walked across a red, metal bridge suspended above a gully, and we could see just how the habitat had received its name. Powerful winds carried large fogbanks through the trees, and we could not see more than thirty or so feet out from any viewpoint because of the mist. These constant clouds, caused by winds from the east and high-altitude condensation, lead to the air being constantly saturated with water, allowing a luxuriance of plants to grow here. High concentrations of plants usually mean high concentrations of animals, and the animals we saw did not disappoint. Leah rescued several giant millipedes from the path during our hike, and at one point we saw a group of White-nosed Coatis approach us, completely fearless as they foraged for insects in the damp soil. From the suspended bridge we spotted a large mixed flock of birds, including Ruddy Treerunners, Spotted Barbtails, Spangle-cheeked Tanagers, Prong-billed Barbets and a variety of warblers (including some that spend the summer in Maine!). And, after returning to the entrance to ask directions, we finally found ourselves sitting on a wet bench, staring at an epiphyte-laden tree looking for Resplendent Quetzals.

The Resplendent Quetzal is not the national bird of Costa Rica, but with all of the attention it garners, it might as well be. We spotted a female in the tree as we first arrived, admiring its deep, emerald green plumage reflecting light through the mist. The real prize we sought, however, was the male—a bird of emerald and ruby, with green tail streamers up to three feet long. These birds are altitudinal migrants, meaning that they spend the non-breeding season at lower elevations. During the breeding season, they travel upslope to the cloud forest to feed on wild avocados and raise young. They are icons of the cloud forest, a rare animal living in a rare habitat. Eventually, as we sat on that bench, we did spot a male, although the look was incredibly brief and unsatisfying. What was satisfying were the other animals that paid us a visit : Spider Monkeys. After sitting there for about thirty minutes, we suddenly spotted movement in the tree ahead of us. From the leaves emerged a pair of long-limbed, rust-orange monkeys, a mother and baby, and we watched spellbound as they swung effortlessly from branch to branch in front of us. It was awesome.

Emerging from the forest, we made a stop at Café Colibri, a restaurant known for and named after the feeders it hangs in the garden outside, and the animals that visit those feeders. At Café Colibri, we spotted seven different species of hummingbirds, almost thirty or so different individuals, each zipping right by our faces in search of sugar water. The hummingbirds had a hierarchy, with the large Violet Sabrewings bullying many of the smaller birds. My favorite of the hummers were the Purple-throated Mountain-gems, the males of which had turquoise foreheads and violet gorgets that shimmered in the sunlight.

We walked back down the road to Santa Elena, admiring the rainbows formed by the mist being blown down the mountain. Following a short rest, we headed out again, this time with a guide to see what animals dwelled in the mountain forests at night. The night walk exceeded our expectations. Our guide, Brandon, pointed out all manner of animals, including Pygmy Rain Frogs, a Robust Climbing Salamander, a Horned Tarantula, an Orange-kneed Tarantula, a Stripe-sided Palm Pitviper loafing in a tree, and two Keel-billed Toucans, fast asleep above us (or they were, until someone pointed a light at them). At one point Brandon wetted a stick with his lips and used it to try to draw a tarantula out of its burrow for us. On our walk back to the entrance to the forest, we spooked a Mottled Owl from its perch in a large banana tree.

Our weekend in Monteverde abounded with sightings of wildlife, and while it may sound like an out-of-reach location for college students, it’s not! The Gilman Scholarship, a scholarship specifically provided to low-income students looking to study abroad and experience new places, is a large part of how I was able to afford going to Costa Rica this semester. If you’re looking to go to Costa Rica, or Ireland, or Japan, or anywhere else, but are worried about the costs, I highly recommend applying for the Gilman. It’s easy to apply, and can support you following your dreams of spending part of your college experience in another country. If you’re enjoying learning about my time abroad and want to have a similar experience of your own, I could not recommend the Gilman more.

Monteverde was just the first place I’ve visited since I’ve been here in Costa Rica, and I already have more weekend trips planned for the next few weeks, so be sure to check out my next blog to learn about the other cool wildlife and ecosystems I see!

**Collared Trogon—named after our family, of course!**

Our Official 2023 FSB Recap: Bird Names, Bird Clubs, and Lifers

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2023 proved to be another wildly surprising year for the FatherSonBirding team. Not only did Braden and I see birds we never dreamed we’d see, but birding opportunities and the enthusiasm of our loyal FSB followers exceeded every expectation. But first, some 2023 stats:

Blogs Posted: 32

FSB Views: 9,361 (easily eclipsing last year’s record of 7,185)

Most Viewed Post: Avian Reveal: Our Five Picks for New Bird Names (598 views)

In addition to the above stats, we surpassed 30,000 lifetime blog views and have now published 174 posts since we began FSB in 2018. Even though this is far short of what is required to annoy you with paid advertisements, it’s still remarkable to us. When we began FSB, Braden and I thought we might keep at it for a year or two at most. Now, almost six years later, FSB has actually generated a body of work that we are immensely proud of. It’s been a way for us to share our adventures, promote birding, and connect with other birders. It’s also been a fun vehicle for educating others about birds and bird conservation. So let’s get to 2023’s highlights for each of us.

Sneed’s 2023 Birding Highlights

Japan: Without a doubt, my biggest highlight of the year was taking my daughter, Tessa, to Japan for three weeks. Together, we created a lifetime of memories in a country we loved even more than we thought we would. As you all discovered with my posts about Tokyo, Kyoto, Kanazawa, and other places, I got in plenty of birding, adding 28 species to my Life List and getting to know more than fifty species of common Japanese birds. (Note that Kanazawa is near the epicenter of this morning’s 7.5 earthquake. We are thinking of all of you over there, and hope everyone is safe!)

**One of my favorite Japanese birds, a male Daurian Redstart.**

Birding Eastern Montana: Thanks to assignments from Montana Outdoors magazine, I had the opportunity to drive out to Westby with my childhood buddy, Scott Callow. We not only hit hotspots such as Bowdoin NWR, Plentywood, Makoshika SP, and Bear Canyon, we had a wonderful visit with FWP biologist Heather Harris who took us on an up-close-and-personal visit to some of Montana’s healthiest short-grass prairie. There, we got my best looks ever at Sprague’s Pipits, Chestnut-collared Longspurs, and other prairie residents.

**Heading to Westby with my friend Scott was not only a great way to see great Montana birds, but a rare chance to catch up with a lifelong friendship!**

Adding Montana Lifers: While in Westby, Scott and I saw my first Piping Plover in Montana, but during the rest of the year—and with the help of other Montana birders—I also added three species to my all-time worldwide Life List: Sagebrush Sparrow (Bear Canyon), American Golden-plover (Mission Valley), and Spruce Grouse (Mission Mountains).

**This Sagebrush Sparrow was probably my favorite new ABA Lifer of 2023–and proves that great things can come in small packages!**

In addition to the above highlights, Braden and I got to bird together several times, including a breakneck trip to Glacier NP with our buddy, Nick Ramsey. I also had the pleasure of meeting a lot of other Montana birders at Wings Across the Big Sky and the meeting of Flathead Audubon. At the beginning of 2023, I had entertained visions of breaking my Montana Big Year record with my work trips to eastern Montana—but didn’t. I came close, however, racking up 253 species, including my last two: Short-eared Owl and Northern Shrike on Braden’s and my last big Montana outing. And now . . .

**Despite Braden and Nick’s busy lives getting educated and building their birder resumés, we all managed to squeeze in a quick 3-day trip to Freezeout Lake and Glacier National Park last summer.**

Braden’s 2023 Birding Highlights

Eastern Songbirds: A long-time goal of mine has been to learn the eastern songbirds, specifically the eastern wood-warblers, by ear. This summer, thanks to my job doing point counts in the woods of northeastern Pennsylvania, I succeeded at that goal, solidifying nearly two dozen warbler songs in my mental repertoire, including those of Magnolia, Canada, Mourning and Golden-winged Warblers. Beyond that, I got to spend all of May and June, and some of July, romping around the forests of the Appalachians, learning about the ecology of all of these species. I fell in love with Golden-winged Warblers, with their specialized habitat needs and endearing personalities, and came to know not only the species of birds in these forests, but also the trees the birds were using. Highlighted by a trip to Cape May and a trip to the Adirondacks, my summer in Pennsylvania may have taught me more about the natural world than any summer I’ve lived through yet!

**Getting to know Eastern warblers—including Golden-winged Warblers—fulfilled a long-held ambition of mine.**

Western Field Ornithologists Conference: In July, I said goodbye to my co-workers and the woods of Pennsylvania and flew across the country to Denver, Colorado, where I was picked up by one of the members of the board of Western Field Ornithologists (WFO). There started my week-long, high-energy stay in the alpine zone of Colorado, where I proceeded to not only see hordes of birds (including two lifers, Virginia’s Warbler and Brown-capped Rosy-finch) as well as meet a variety of people of all ages, who had converged at the WFO annual conference thanks to their passion for birds. During this conference, I got to hang out with a squadron of young birders from California and meet people like David Tonnessen, a native Coloradan guide, Nathan Pieplow, one of North America’s leading experts on bird sound, Ted Floyd, the editor of Birding magazine, Chris Wood, one of the founders of eBird, and Jesse Barry, one of the lead developers for the Merlin app. It was a whirlwind week, during which I bushwhacked through alpine tundra in search of White-tailed Ptarmigan and Dusky Grouse (only the latter of which we saw), scoped distant prairie potholes for shorebirds, and trekked through spruce-fir forest in the dark of night in an attempt for Boreal Owl. I’ll be sure to attend more of these conferences, whenever I am able to!

The field trips before the WFO conference gave me my first crack at Colorado birding!

Starting the UMaine Birding Club: Last semester, several people told me that if the University of Maine had a Birding Club, they would join. This year, after a few MORE people told me that, I just decided to buckle down and start one. Our first meeting, which took place on September 14th, was a raging success, with more than thirty people filling the classroom I’d reserved to hear me give my elevator pitch for the club. After a ten-minute talk, we headed out across campus in search of fall migrants, which we found in the form of a Ruby-throated Hummingbird and several Cape May Warblers. The rest is history. I put on twelve meetings this year, and led twelve outings as well. I made sure that our meetings were diverse, with some days featuring guest lectures about bird jobs or indoor bird scavenger hunts and others pitting club members against each other in Bird Jeopardy. My personal favorite was a thirty-minute talk I gave on everything wrong with the state birds, and we finished out the year last Thursday with a movie night featuring The Big Year. Our outings, highlighted by one trip to Sebasticook Lake and another to the coast, tallied ninety total species, including Sandhill Cranes and an American Goshawk, which both became “Bird of the Day” on their respective trips. Overall, starting a Birding Club was one of the most meaningful things I’ve ever done and I can’t wait to jump back into it next fall—after I’ve returned from studying abroad in Costa Rica!

**Quizzing the UMaine Birding Club on bird vocalizations!**

So that’s a wrap, people. Braden and I want to thank you for tuning in and sharing your enthusiasm with us, and we hope that 2024 brings you a rewarding year of seeing, learning about, and protecting the animals we all love.