More Birding from the Car(acara)

After spending the first hour or so cruising around the farm roads and chasing Larks, I eventually made my way to Baumgartner Road and the adjacent fields.  This is one of the most reliable areas to see winter-time Caracaras in Arizona, and is also a good spot for combine harrower harvesters, for you tractor watchers out there, and there are also plenty of pecan trees for you nuts. 

 The Caracaras combine forces with the Common Ravens and follow after the combine harvesters, pillaging any disturbed ground for the bugs and rodents as they scatter for safety. It's ruthlessly efficient hunting, everything you'd expect and hope for in a cool predator like the Caracara (yes, Ravens are cool too, but we've known that ever since Oden and Edgar Allen Poe popularized them in 2,000 b.c.)

Despite getting some glimpses of the Caracaras, I could not get close enough for satisfying photos. By this desire, I was forced to chase after the tractors too, looking for the birds that were chasing them, and they chased after the un-harvested crops. I'm sure someone or something was chasing me too, just to keep the chain going. That seems to be the way the universe works. 

Though still distant, one of the Caracaras did perch and pose for a pretty picture with part of Picacho Peak in the background.

While chasing around after the Caracaras and trying to respect the private property/no-trepsassing/we-will-shoot-you-on-sight signs, an old friend caught my eye. The consistently jaw-dropping Vermillion Flycatcher is certainly one of the birds that got me hooked on birding. Now that I was all grown up and chasing after Caracaras and Mountain Plovers, the Vermillion stopped by to remind me of my roots, to remember the classics.

It certainly was a time for some naval-gazing...

He stretched; I stretched; it was good to see this iconic flycatcher again. They're not uncommon in the bottom half of Arizona, but you never know when one will turn up again. He reminded me not to take em' for granted.

After spending some time with the Vermillion, I finally swung around the Baumgartner farms, on the east side of the cattle coral, and got some closer shots of the Crested Caracara. This is a bird that shows it's still possible to be a vulture and be beautiful, and not just beautiful in that wish-washy 'it's-what's-inside-that-counts sorts way, but in the much more important superficial first-impression sense.

'Merican Pipit

Also known as the Buff-bellied Pipit, this bird isn't the biggest, the strongest, the loudest, or the wealthiest, but it's still 100% American; just look at its name! They love open farmland and fields and have some seriously big hitch-hiking thumbs. What could be more rural American than that? Nothing, that's what!

They don't have a lot of flash, but American Pipits make the most of their subtle colors, combining buffy yellows and browns in a varying and charming color combination. They can be found on all agricultural land or sod farms in the Arizona throughout the winter. Sometimes there will just be individuals, maybe even mixing it up with Savannah Sparrows, and sometimes there will be large flocks over 100 strong.

I stopped to photograph this handsome fellow while driving around Pretzer road in the Santa Cruz flats. Somewhat like shore-birding, I'd scan the Pipit parties looking for a pair of pink legs, the tell-tale sign of the much rarer and highly prized Sprague's Pipit. No luck on the Sprague's yet, but it's really fun to observe these tail-bobbing foragers; they're pretty tolerant and allow for a close approach.

The American Pipits are a nice change in the LBJ (little brown job) department from all the White-crowned Sparrows too. They've got that quintessential bird pose, with the 60 degree angled posture and  longer legs. Ya know, the more I think about it, the more I think this bird is quite beautiful.

It was pretty sweet to get good looks at these birds while merely en route to other destinations. Bonus!

Anything but Flat-lining

For the next week or two, I am afraid I must bombard you all with photos and gushings from a recent trip out to the Santa Cruz flats in between Phoenix and Tucson. Though it's only about an hour drive, I was treating this mentally and emotionally like a more serious, longer trip--you know how you've just got heightened levels of determination and focus compared to when you're just ambulin' around the park.

I also had a lot of anticipation for this trip because it would provide a great opportunity for safari birding--spotting and photographing from the comfort and concealment from a vehicle--which is pretty great. Of course, this limits one's access to roads, but birds tolerate automobiles much better than pedestrians (in non-urban settings), plus it's cold at 7:00 am these days. Driving slowly along the dusty agricultural roads west of Picacho Peak, lots of curious birds would pop up to see who else was awake at this hour.

When I am 114 years old, lying on my deathbed ready ti impart some last nugget of wisdom to my progeny it will be this: "Never pass up the opportunity to gawk at a Lark Sparrow."

Of course, with winter happening now, the Phoenix area is crawling with White-crowned Sparrow juveniles and adults. I've no idea what the science is on this, but why does it seems like there are more immature White-crowns around than any other bird? Sure, their young are more visible and recognizable, but you don't see many other immature birds in winter, including other Sparrows, while the precocious White-crowns are everywhere.

One of the larger attractions to farm-field car birding, in addition to the high occurrence of raptors, is the opportunity to photograph Larks. There aren't many grassy fields in the Phoenix area, so if you want Meadowlarks you've got to head to the farms, where you'll find them in relative abundance.

I often frustrated with my photographic attempts at Meadowlarks. I feel like everyone and their grandmother has sweet close-up shots of a Meadowlark singing its heart out from atop a fencepost. In my experiences, they're very shy and often spook if I slow the car down.
Horned Larks are more cooperative, but which species is the more handsome? That is a tough call...

It's also tricky to photograph the Larks when party-pooping Sharp-shinned Hawks keep dive-bombing everyone. This guy didn't even have the courtesy to stop and pose so that he wasn't back-lit.

These birds were all just seen en route to the smaller birding hotspots in the Santa Cruz flats, and there'll be more to come on that front later this week. In the mean time, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you all. 

Teal' Next Time We Meet

Green-winged Teal...

For a long time now, these guys have titillated and tantalized me. They're the most common Teal in Arizona, and in fact I often see them in greater numbers than Pintails or Gadwalls, and yet I have not gotten good enough photos to fit their easy visibility. Seeing how common they can be, I feel that I should have some awesome, un-cropped close ups with these winter-fowl by now. With great numbers come great photographic responsibility, know what I mean?

So, this autumn and winter one of my side projects has been to improve my Green-winged Teal portfolio. There are good numbers of these birds at the Glendale Recharge Ponds, but the best place to see, and often photograph them, is at the Gilbert Water Ranch.

All three Teal (Cinnamon and Blue-winged being the other two, which I also have had little luck in photographing) tend to avoid the smaller urban ponds around Phoenix, the ponds which have provided me with excellent photo-ops on other ducks, so by and large I have resigned myself to the more distant, more cropped shots that this bird's shyness demand.

Even as they continue to frustrate me, there's slow progress, and I think I've improved from last year.
Like lots of other iridescent birds, their sharp looking green can turn into a cobalt blue in different angles of lighting, making them both verdant and versatile subjects.
I wish I could say that this Teal and the Least Sandpiper continue feeding without noticing each other and then bumped heads, but alas once again the Teal thwarted my photographic desires and turned around. Til' next time Teal...til' next time.

Except this Ranch is actually good for you!

It's as old and established as love and war. The Gilbert Water Ranch is one of the birding foundations in central Arizona. It pulls in rarities every year, most recently a Rufous-backed Robin, Winter Wren, and Chestnut-sided Warbler, and it maintains a good 50-70 species on site throughout the year, meaning that at any point one can go there expecting to see lots and lots of birds.
Now, apart from the rarities is pulls in from time to time--and with Streak-backed Oriole and Groove-billed Ani, it's had some good ones--the birding is not overly unique. The habitats that the Water Ranch provides are pretty ubiquitous to the numerous wetlands and water treatment areas around Maricopa County, and most of what one sees at the GWR can be seen elsewhere. But the lack of specialization is not a problem, because the Ranch still brings you up close and personal to so many species, affording more and better looks of more birds, and photo ops too, than perhaps anywhere else in Maricopa.

This aspiring ballerina was actually photographed at a park near the GWR. I wonder if it noticed that it stepped in Goose poo..?

Dowitchers come by the hundred of millions (just hundreds actually) and practice their symmetrical feeding at the GWR each winter. They say that if you put a bunch of monkeys in a room with computers and give them infinite time, eventually they'll compose a Shakespeare work. I dunno about the monkeys, but put some Dowitchers in front of some typewriters and they'd get it done, due in large part to their methodical type-writer feeding habits and their richly cultivated inner lives.

These birds stare at their reflections all day, inlaid to a background of mud. You know they've got to have some seriously deep and contemplative insights to share with the world.



This Green Heron looks like he just had an epiphany, and also like he is wearing period-appropriate Shakespeare style bloomers and tights. Well coordinated good heron, lookin' sharp...

This Mockingbird also looks inspired, or at least like he's trying to get inspired. Usually they have such upright, Thrush-like posture. I've never seen them sit on their haunches like this except when they're on a nest. Perhaps he is wondering if there's more to life than being really aggressive and mocking towards all the other birds and animals around him.

 No!


This winter Warbler who needs no introduction...

The Audubon's sub-species, told by their yellow throats, bring a lot of business to Phoenix everyyear. Or at least, they would if they contributed to the economy, but they're too common to really pull people out of their chairs to go chasing after them, and they don't pay any toll fees when they migrate down in huge numbers. Now, if a myrtle subspecies shows up, that's a whole different ballgame...



And on the subject of regional population variations, it has been very interesting, and also disheartening, to hear of the continued decline of the Inca Dove population in Tucson and southeastern Arizona. Every year there are less and less birds and breeding pairs recorded. It's now considered a rare sighting down there, and pretty soon eBird will start double checking on any Inca Dove entries in the southeastern counties.

In Phoenix anyway they're still doing very well. Their population seems to be on the rise and I see these  adorable little puffs in neighborhoods and apartment complex parking lots just as much as at designated wildlife preserves.

Sheepish Green-wing Teal are another staple of the GWR. This is probably the best place to observe and photograph these very handsome and culinarily unscrupulous ducks. I have some more shots of this  fancy guy with which I'll follow up later this week.

If you ever find yourself in the area, or have bird nerd friends and family heading to the area, point them in Gilbert's direction. For one reason, it's the only good reason to ever go to Gilbert, and secondly, it's got some excellent (sub)urban birding. 

Follow the Link!

Hello Bird Nerds and other Respectable People.
My monthly post is up over at Birding Is Fun. Check out the action from the Santa Cruz Flats. See who's hanging out for the winter here.

The Lesser of Two Scaups

From the Scottish/early English scalp, referring to a mussel or clam bed. Greater Scaup are not overly common in the United States, but are found elsewhere across the globe and in large numbers. Lesser Scaup, by contrast, are very populous in North America but are uncommon outside of the continent.
They're not the flashiest of waterfowl but they've got a handsomeness to em'.

Oddly enough, they're one of the less common ducks in Phoenix. They can be found without too much trouble, and they're not as reclusive as Buffleheads or Mergansers, but they don't have near the numbers as the Wigeons, Pintails, Ring-necked, or Mallards. As such, it's always a treat to seem them around town, especially when they're close to shore and tolerant of some photography.
The temptations of course is to turn this bird into a Greater Scaup because of its greenish sheen and the slight running of the black off the beak nail. Don't do it!!!

There were a half-dozen or so at the Fountain Hills Lake, and now I can add Lesser Scaup to my blinking duck album, which includes, among others, Canvasback, Redhead, and Ring-necked.

The females look pretty sharp too and pretty compact. The Lesser Scaup--a stately duck for any occasion.

Peli-Flop!

For the last few weeks there has been a squadron of five American White Pelicans at the Gilbert Water Ranch in east Phoenix. Prior to their visit, the only place I'd see White Pelicans in Arizona was at the Tres Rios site, and almost always behind the fenced off area. As such, these goofy birds afforded me some of the best/most close-up looks I've had of American White Pelicans in Arizona. There's something that's already just intrinsically fascinating, ridiculous, and totally awesome about Pelicans. Seeing them in the desert and taking pictures with mesquite trees or other deserty things in the background magnifies this silliness by a factor of three.



Since the Pelicans do not frequently occur at the GWR, I would've expected them to move on pretty soon, but they've been around for a while now, and when I saw them they were acting like they owned the place. These guys must be like the Pelican puritans that left Tres Rios and all of its squalid hedonism to establish a pelicaniform city on a hill out in Gilbert.



Watching these fissiparous birds feeding is great fun. Coastal Pelicans like to dramatically dive-bomb their meals, which always makes for a great show. These Pelicans were not quite as energetic, and instead would just kinda swim around the ponds, then stop, then slowly and with great lassitude, face- plant into the water.

 

They'd just lay there for a minute, enjoying the experience and no doubt meeting my gaze without the slightest hint of embarrassment at being seen in such a state. Slowly that throat pouch would fill up, and then when it had reached a appropriate capacity, the Pelican would raise its head and strain everything out.

Sometimes, after I've been slouching for a while and/or eating lots of greasy bread-type food, I feel like I have a few rings of chins or a big throat pouch hanging off my face.
Thank you, American White Pelican, for giving me better perspective.

P.S. I would much rather have these birds delivering babies than Storks. Thoughts?

Cootastrophe

Legions of coots, they mass and march.

They eat their grass and gain their starch.

They grunt and groan and squeal and fuss.

They hate to fly even when they must.

They float and feed with balancing weight

And then attack with malice and hate

They invade and occupy Phoenix each fall, bullying the lakes with their Cootish gall.