Month: November 2019

Today, driven in part by boredom, I drove the half hour up the highway to the Benson Sewage Ponds to look for a Red-breasted Merganser, listed as rare as a migrant and wintering visitor in this area. I’m sure I could get this one in New Hampshire next month but it’s been over two weeks since I added a new species to the Big Year list. Besides, once this is out of the way, I don’t have to think about it later.

Within minutes of arriving at the ponds I found a long, low duck way out. When it brought its bill around, I could see it was red, long, and thin – Red-breasted Merganser (551). This is my 35th species of waterfowl for the year with a few more to come and it was new to my state life list. But it was easy to find and I’ll likely see many more later this year. I leave for my Winter East Coast Tour three weeks from today.

Heeding the chorus of cries for a new Puzzler, I herewith submit one to you. This is what they call a “minimum information problem” that drives some thinkers nuts but is fair game for Mensa members. You may need paper and pencil. Let’s say you have several sacks of gold, I don’t know how many. Inside each sack are many pieces of gold, I don’t know how many. One sack- and only one sack – contains “fools gold”, all the pieces are fake gold. The rest of the sacks have all true gold pieces. All the pieces of real gold weigh one pound each while each of the pieces of fools gold weighs one pound and one ounce. You have a scale but it’s a penny scale, you put a penny in the slot and it spits out a card displaying the weight of the object on the scale. You have only one penny. Determine which sack is the fools gold using only the scale and the one penny. Good Luck.

Meanwhile, here is the list, updated through Texas:

Two weeks ago I counted a Ruddy Ground-Dove in Tucson but I didn’t get a great look and certainly not a photograph. I was eager to find one closer to home. This morning I followed up on some recent reports of a Ruddy Ground-Dove just down the road at the San Pedro House. After an hour of searching, I found two under the water tower and got some pictures:

Much to my surprise, out of the thousands and thousands of letters and postcards from my readers, followers, and hangers-on, I didn’t receive any correct answers to last week’s Puzzler. To refresh your recollection, the question was: what is the connection between birding and 007. Here’s the answer. The James Bond novels were written by Ian Fleming, who was British and of course a birder. He wrote these books in Jamaica. In creating his protagonist, he wanted a character that was thrilling, daring, and death defying. By way of contrast, he wanted his name to be dull and ordinary. While thinking of a name, he looked around his office and there on his desk was his copy of “Birds of the West Indies”, written by – who else? – Bond … James Bond.

Tenuous though it may be, there you have the connection between birding and 007. To take the story one step further, in 2011 I went on Gary Markowski’s annual bird tour of Cuba. On the first day our first stop was at the home of Orlando Garrido, an old-style naturalist and dean of Cuban ornithology, best known for his co-authorship of the “Field Guide to the Birds of Cuba”. He was well into his eighties then and I believe he has since passed.

His study was filled with skins and mounts and specimens of birds, reptiles, insects, everything. He was that rare scientist who was also a good athlete – he played Wimbledon 6 times, he and his brother are the only two Cubans ever to have played there. After he discussed some of the birds of Cuba he asked if we had any questions. My hand shot up. I asked him if he knew any of the old-time ornithologists back when like Skutch, Wetmore, or Bond. He said he went birding in Minnesota with Roger Tory Peterson and corresponded with Alexander Wetmore. And Bond? He reached in the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a picture of him with James Bond. So there I was, hanging out with someone who used to hang out with the real James Bond, who, like a good ornithologist, probably got up early in the morning, didn’t meet glamorous women around the world, and probably didn’t drink martinis, shaken or stirred.

In January 1998, the big Big Year, reigning champ Sandy Komito flew from Newark to Phoenix, then drove to the Boyce Thompson Arboretum to search for one bird, Rufous-backed Robin, a rare stray from Mexico. Three hours later he found the bird. The next day he went back, presumably to get a better picture; after all, he came all this way. Here’s what he says happened next. “I return to the arboretum and meet two birders, Mark Phillips and Dana Green. With the three of us as a group, my hope is to be able to get a few good photographs but all we see are a couple of American Robins.” Yes, Arizona birders, that is the Mark Phillips you are thinking of, bird guide, raconteur, and keeper of the faith at the San Pedro House. Although he did not get featured in the Big Year movie, he did get mentioned in Komito’s Big Year book, yet somehow he manages to maintain a level head about it all. Mark we wish you well, you and your new knee.

Today was my turn to visit the Boyce Thompson Arboretum to search for a Rufous-backed Robin, first reported here on Wednesday. Despite a four hour search by me and several other birders, we couldn’t find it. Rumors swirled and hearsay abounded as to whether it was seen today and where. I searched for four hours and I’m satisfied it wasn’t present while I was there. Those are the breaks. You have to be like a good athlete and have a short memory about the losses and start clean tomorrow.

And now I have for you what you have endured without for far too long: a new Puzzler. This one is both ornithological and historical in nature, a good combination of two good subjects. Ready? Describe, with detail and particularity, the connection between birding and 007 (the British spy). I’ll have the answer very soon.

Last night I went to bed one short of my goal of “Ten in Texas” that I need to reach my year-end goal. But as I mentioned yesterday, two birds were in my neighborhood and that I had time to search for them in the morning.

After our field trips yesterday, Joy and I followed up on a tip from my guide that there were Green Parakeets at the Quality Inn, a block from my hotel. We checked it out but it was pretty dark by then and we didn’t see any parakeets. After another great meal with Robert and Kara we all called it a night.

This morning I walked over to the Quality Inn to try for the parakeet first, since they disperse soon after waking up. I thought it was already too late at nearly 7 o’clock. Finding nothing, I worked my way back to my hotel until I heard parakeets squawking on the other side of Highway 77/83. I ran over to get a closer look before they disappeared and there in the tall palms were about 16 Green Parakeets (549), glittering green from head to toe. In just a few minutes another flock of two dozen flew overhead, and then my flock took off. Got there just in time. There, I now have my 10 new species after all but I have one more to look for. I checked a row of tall palms in the parking lot, listening for a loud chip call. Adjacent to my hotel I heard a bird calling in a short deciduous tree. As it approached all I could see was drab black and white coloring until it turned to face me – a brilliant yellow throat! Yellow-throated Warbler (550), a bird I missed in the South, one I searched for desperately this week, and now one was only feet away. It’s not rare, I’ve seen them before, but it was a goal realized. Later, back at the hotel, while I was waiting poolside for the airport shuttle (the drivers know where the airport is), a Yellow-throated Warbler landed on a chair just feet from me, as if to ask if I was satisfied now. I am. I got not ten but eleven in Texas, putting me up by one but I’ll need the cushion, easy birds can be missed.

Both flights departed and arrived on time or early. On the Tucson flight I was seated next to a six month old girl, who was so cute with her blue eyes and blonde hair. But this cuteness on a plane only lasts for about ten minutes before there is squirming, crying, spilling, and fussing. After a short while, like B.B. King sang, the thrill is gone.

Today the Groundhog went away and I got a ride to the convention center without incident. Probably because I think I had the same driver as yesterday and he remembered the way. This routine was putting me in a foul mood for awhile there, leaving me feeling like this:

Today’s field trip was the Big Day van, a Big Day within a Big Year, I wonder if this has ever been done before. I didn’t know what to expect or where we would go. First stop was Estero Llano Grande State Park, where Yellow-throated Warbler has been seen, but we didn’t see one, while other groups there did. We got a good close look at one of my favorite birds of this area – Common Pauraque, day roosting on the ground.

From there we headed to the coast, with a stop at the Zapata Boat Ramp like yesterday. Again, the birders already there told us that American Oystercatcher was there but just flew off. But after a careful scan we relocated two of them resting on a mud flat (548). That’s nine for the trip, I just need one more to reach my goal of ten for the trip. A small patch of mangrove adjacent to the parking lot housed a Clapper Rail. One birder said he just heard it but I didn’t get anything. While my teammates scanned the bay, I kept focused on the mangrove. But nothing, no sight, no sound. Time to go. As the van pulled out, a quiet voice from a young lady in the back called out: “Clapper Rail.” We screeched to a stop, backed up, and looked. I saw some legs, or a shadow, or a blur move past the base of a small bush, that’s the bird, but as I got my binoculars up, it vanished the way rails do. How close! It slipped right through my fingers! I felt like Bill Buckner.

We finished up at South Padre Island where we thought we had a perched Brown Booby with its head tucked in but careful scrutiny confirmed it was a young pelican. No rails could be found on the boardwalk, no new warblers were in the trees, so I ended the day with nine new species for the trip. Our team tallied more than 160 species but not enough for even honorable mention. I don’t fly out tomorrow until noon, so early in the morning I will take one more look around the neighborhood for Green Parakeet and Yellow-throated Warbler. Even without one, I’m declaring the trip a success, I had a great time, and I can’t wait for my next trip to “the valley.”

More Groundhog Day today. I asked my driver point blank if he knew where the convention center was. Yes, he certainly did, he assured me. After two minutes he turned left instead of right and I barked out: “Wrong convention center!” We then found our way.

On our first stop along Aplomado Alley we found an Aplomado Falcon but it flew before I could get a good look. We made a few more stops and I got a distant but diagnostic photograph (544) (ABA 649):

I was assured by Michael Retter, one of our guides, who works for the ABA, that these birds are ABA-countable. One of the day’s best stops was at Zapata boat ramp on Rt 48. Among the many resting Laughing Gulls we found a few Franklin’s Gulls (545), along with a few Wilson’s Plovers (546) and some Dunlin (547). I now had 8 new species in Texas, needing just two more. After the field trip, Joy and I went over to South Padre Island. We searched hard for Clapper Rail at the birding center but last night the cold snap from up north hit, dropping 80 degree temperatures down to 50 with howling winds. No Clapper Rails were budging. Among the passerines near the building we looked for Yellow-throated Warbler without luck. At another place on the island we found this exhausted migrant hopping at my feet, a phenomenon I had never experienced before:

So I’ve added 8 new species here so far. I need 10. Like any good sporting event, it all come down to the final minute. Tomorrow is the grand finale of the field trips for me – the Big Day van. We go all day and try to see how many species we can find. There is a prize for those in the van with the most species, creating an incentive to find everything, so I am hopeful that during the course of the day we will come across just two new species for the Big Year. In the meantime, I’m missing a Blue-footed Booby in Arizona ….

So here I am at the Rio Grande Valley Birding Festival. One of the biggest and best of the many birding festivals in the country, featuring all the A-List glitterati celeb birders of North America, such as Pete Dunne, Jon Dunn, Bill Clark, Rick Wright, Jeff Gordon. Everyone who is anyone is here. And me. I have just two days left as I am scheduled to leave fashionably early on Sunday.

Today started out as a “Groundhog Day” day. As in the well-known movie, my alarm went off at the same time as yesterday, but not at 6 like in the movie but four o’clock. Again. I ran the same routine, ate the same breakfast, and got in the hotel van. “I’m going to the convention center,” I droned. I get a blank look from the driver. “It’s behind Sam’s Club,” I specified. ” …… Sam’s Club … Sam’s Club …. hmmmm.” She runs into the hotel and comes back with “I know where we’re going!” (You don’t know where Sam’s Club is?!?!? The Harlingen Convention Center?!?!? In Harlingen, Texas??? Half a mile away?)

Soon I was on the bus and we set out into the early morning darkness for two hours until we reached the little village of Salineno. Within minutes of standing on the river, without even trying, before we said our prayers, along came a Ringed Kingfisher (542) on this side of the river! It’s in bounds! The shot is goooood!

We returned to the feeders where I saw almost all these birds yesterday. I was eager to get back to the river to search for the seedeater. I snuck away early but didn’t get far before the rest of the group came along. It was an all-out group search. But first we had to pick through the kinglets and titmice for the beginners. I’m starting to sweat, fearing we would run out of time before finding success. Eventually we reached the spot where I knew one had been seen a few days ago. The clock is ticking, no bird is showing. Then I heard a sweet sound: “Seadeater!!!” And there it was, Morelet’s Seedeater (543) (ABA 648).

I searched for this bird on my first visit to the valley in 1995 and again last April. I had to see one this trip and there it was, sweet redemption.

Tomorrow I am on a search for Aplomado Falcon, which could be a sure thing, but Sprague’s Pipit will take more effort. Later in the day we are going to South Padre Island where lady luck will make or break this trip. I have four new ones so far, plus the falcon makes five, and if I can get four on the island I’m at 9. I must get one more on the last day on the Big Day van. My prediction? Yellow-throated Warbler.

Today started early … and shaky. I got up at 4, ate a quick simple breakfast set out for us early risers, and then took my ride to the convention center. The hotel van was occupied so they put me in a cab with a cabbie who, as a life-long resident, must surely know every corner of Harlingen, Texas. I could tell him to take me to any corner of the city and he could do so blindfolded. How wrong can you get! He takes me to a place dark and vacant, miles from anywhere. “Are you sure this is the right place?”, I squirmed. This is where the festival used to take place, but this year it’s at the convention center. “Where’s that?”, he asks. While the clock is ticking he finds his way on google and gets me to my destination with minutes to spare.

At the curb I’m expecting a van for ten people but instead we board a full-size bus. Wow, these guys really know power. We plowed through traffic like we were king of the road. Two hours later we were at the Santa Margarita Ranch Bluffs, high above the Rio Grande.

From here we could look down on the birds and easily see anything that flies up or down the river. Green Kingfisher came along, 2 or 3 of them, but no Ringed Kingfisher. We followed a Hook-billed Kite as it flew along in front of us in the wrong country! “Out of bounds! No score for Woodward!”, yelled the ump. I had to throw it back, a real good one. Ouch! Later I glimpsed Audubon’s Oriole (540), one of the specialties of the upriver area.

From here we drove up to Salineno to what used to be called The Birders’ Colony. Lots of chairs set up at feeders, bringing birds to you up close. Here are some of them:

We searched for the seadeater but no luck. I ended the trip a little on the disappointed side. My spirits were lifted when I joined Joy, Kara, and Robert, the same crew that joined me in our journey down California Gulch on 11 May, to search for parrots. First we went to Hugh Ramsey Park in Harlingen where we picked up news of the latest parrot roost nearby from a local birder, your best source of scoop. Off we went to a certain neighborhood near 7th street, following our ears. And there they were, Red-crowned Parrots (541) gathering on the power lines. These are not pigeons:

Hundreds of them. From here they moved over one block so we followed. Now they were roosting in the trees on the front lawns of the residential neighborhood. Shrieeeeeeeeeeeeek!!!! The noise was deafening! They were everywhere, some only feet away. Just as quickly as they arrived, they went silent and settled in for the night. End of day.

Tomorrow I go back upstream to Salineno and Falcon Dam. I still hope for Morelet’s Seadeater and Ringed Kingfisher. If a Hook-billed Kite drifts over to this side of the river, so much the better.

I could say Texas III since I did cross the panhandle on I-40 back in May where I added Mississippi Kite. But this is my second birding trip here. I missed enough birds back in April to make a second trip worthwhile. Today was a travel day, I might have seen five pigeons all day, but both flights were on time or early and nobody lost my carry-on luggage.

Flying in to Houston , then a short hop to Harlingen:

Tomorrow this hotel, catering to birders, serves breakfast at 4:00 am so I’ll be on time for my field trip that starts at 5:00. They even give me a ride to the convention center. The first two days take me upriver where I have the most holes in my list. I know when I am in the lap of luxury when the drinking glasses in my room are glass instead of plastic. I say I deserve it, a Big Year is a tough life on the road.

Last Friday I spelled out my plans to reach 573 for the year, including 3 more in Arizona, namely, Ruddy Ground-Dove, Mountain Plover, and one other. Yesterday the Tucson Rare Bird Alert lit up with news of a Ruddy Ground-Dove in Tucson. I gambled and decided to wait here this morning until I saw reports of its presence today. By 9:30 I was out the door, the bird is still there. To make the trip more worthwhile, I decided to throw in a trip to the Santa Cruz Flats, half way between Tucson and Phoenix, to search for Mountain Plover.

I arrived at Reid Park in Tucson and other birders were present. As I circled around the outside of the Rose Garden, one of the birders from inside called out that the bird was right there. I stopped to look and as I did I saw it fly a short distance. As I approached, it flew again and landed in a rose bush but I couldn’t find it. After an hour of searching by me and 3 or 4 other birders, I had to concede the bird was no longer in the immediate area. I wanted a picture but it was not to be but I saw the bird (538) and I had to get going for the next chase.

I had to feel my way around the Santa Cruz Flats with my crude handmade map and vague memory. Eventually I found the Evergreen Turf Farm and stopped to look. Three scans with the scope turned up nothing but flocks of larks and pipits. Despair. This is the same spot I searched back in February and came up empty. Did I come all this way again for nothing? The most recent eBird report had them from Tweedy Road so I turned around and went the half block over. I stopped and scanned but again nothing. Wait! What’s that? A flock of shorebirds in flight! I followed them in my binoculars as they circled the field three times, each time almost landing, only to continue onward. Then they did land. I put up the scope and after a careful observation, I could see I had a flock of 12 Mountain Plovers (539)! Soon more joined in until the flock grew to 30. Then they split up and spread out, some coming my way although still distant.

I now have just one more bird to get in Arizona. The only things left are tough ones like Sage Thrasher and Sprague’s Pipit. I really have to hope for a rarity from afar. I was supposed to stop at Reid Park again on the way back and even though I was carefully watching the signs, I drove right past the exit. Oh well, I’ll find another one later and get a good picture. Now I have to pack for tomorrow’s trip. The theme is “Ten in Texas”. It’s not quite “Remember the Alamo” but it suites my purposes.