Aim Small, Miss Small

Recent goal-oriented birding in Carolina involved working long or hard hours to log relatively usual birds. Recent birding in Arizona involved distant duck sighting in dim lighting. Both of these provided their own satisfactions, but not without a bit of strain all the same. Some people like to say they have to take a vacation from their vacation, and to these people I say, "You are weak vacationers. Weakness disgusts me...but not in a way that weakens me." But on the other, more relatable hand, birding benefits from its changes of pace as well. Sometimes it's nice to watch and photograph the birdies without concern of lists or chasing, the lazier, more passive approach in local circles.

Of course, this should only be done on workdays when there's a spare hour or two in the evening. Doing this on weekends (soft birding around town) is disgusting weakness, to reiterate.

Papago Park and the Desert Botanical Gardens, frequently mentioned on this site in times long past when I was very new to the Phoenix birding scene, are still some of the best places to crush common waterfowl, Sonoran species, and other just-a-bit-better-than-generic-park birds. (Most generic Arizona parks do not have cool Warblers like out east).

This GHOW is often in the cottonwood corner at the DBG. Some day it will poop on me, but this day was not that day.

So mild-mannered are these areas that even the timid Common Gallinule (red-shielded, obvi) will swim out into the open ocean without a life vest. Fun fact: The Common Gallinule actually used to be called the Common Morehen, because their entreating calls reminded one of a rakish greedy Oliver Twist impression.

Verdins are industrious nest-builders (not pictured). They build expansive breeding nests and more conservative roosting nests throughout the year--up to a dozen--because otherwise they would be idle, and idle feet are the Verdin Devil's playthings.

The DBG pulls in a vagrant rarity from time to time, but is mostly known for its close-up opportunities with desert flora and fauna. Even so, some unusual behaviors may still be observed. What flock of birds is feeding on buds in this mesquite?

Yes the answer is Quail, Gambel's Quail. Timid like most Quail species, GAQUs also become very tame and confident in the right setting, probably also like most Quail species.

Curve-billed Thrashers also take to the trees in groups, gregarious behavior untypical of the family. Although that may just be circumstantial because these Thrashers were obviously a family, with the two younger birds following the presumed parent around incessantly. The mature adult had a shorter, stubbier bill than many CUBUs I've seen. I have no idea if this is entirely random or may be a way to sex the birds, like with Curlew and Dowitchers? 

Cactus Wrens are notoriously hardy birds. They may not be as tough as Gray Jays, per se, but are nonetheless able to withstand living in areas entirely without free-standing water and can also withstand living in the middle of Phoenix suburbia--provided the landscaping suits. They are also highly territorial during nesting season and will chase reptiles and mammals either away or into cholla cactus snares near their nesting sites, like clever and less passive clown fish. They also destroy other bird nests and bust eggs. What a jerk. Pretty great state bird eh?

One Hand Empty, One Shaking Fist

The lesser weather god whose jurisdiction reigns over Phoenix has a cruel sense of humor. With temperatures in the mid 90s through the last two weeks, we sends merciful reprieve only on the weekends--the last 3 weekends in a row--with heavy clouds, slight rain and plenty of wind. It's gloriously comfortable, encouraging weather for just about everything...except for birding.

Knowing that this weekend would be another struggle, I decided to try for some late-night owling on Saturday, when the weather wouldn't matter so much, and maybe pick something up at the Papago Ponds on Friday after work. I never did find the confiding Sora I was hoping for at Papago, nor get visual (or photos) on the nocturnal targets, so both of those pursuits will carry over into next week. So, instead of cool stuff, here's some boring stuff from a local city park near you. 

Cooler than Coots but not as cool as Purple Gallinules, the widely distributed Common Gallinule occupies an existentially aggravating level of the gallinaceous waterbird hierarchy. This is, most likely, why they vocalize so often and with such angst in their voice.

I've been reaching a slow realization through my park/canal birding over the last several months. In any given Gulp (that's the real term) of Cormorants, it's now 95% Neotropic (this is a percentage I just made up). I hardly ever see Double-crested around town any more, and the big colony at Tres Rios is predominantly Neotropic too. I have no idea of these two similar species are competitive nesters, if the Double-cresteds just wander continually farther inland and the Neotropic come in their wake, like large-family farmers moving west after the pioneer mountain men. Anyway, I'd be curious for any other Phoenix-area birder's thoughts or observations on this. What's happening to the Double-crested, once the famous rebel of the Cormorant group, raider of the inland waterways, scourer of countrysides?

The longer tail, mottled brown, pale (non-yellow) lores, white border on the chin, behind the lower mandible, all indicate that this bird is yet another Neotropic. Behold the vacant, dead-eye stare of a monumental usurper.

Perhaps as a side effect of the humidity and wind in recent weeks, there are some pretty bold algal blooms in many of the city ponds right now. The prematurely warm temperatures this winter pushed most of the waterfowl north several weeks ago, but the resident birds are making the most of it.

Pied-billed Grebes do not mind Algae. Pied-billed Grebes do not mind anything.

Many American Coots, being good Americans, have lots of big fat babies roaming the ponds now too. I do enjoy when the spontaneous Coot fights break out--this species seems to have a greater propensity for violence than most other birds--and how embarrassingly long it takes them to get airborne.

Coot chicks...these flame-kissed bald headed things are somewhere between hideous and endearing, both of which are stronger reactions than often invoked by an adult Coot. Science has no know explanation for why they look the way they do. Too unappealing to eat?

Part of the American Coot's key to success is that it's a very unscrupulous eater. It's not an om-nom-nomnivore or anything, but they eat lowest common denominator stuff, such as algae and pond slime. With this recent algae bloom around town the Coots, no doubt, are feasting well. This adult was diving to bring up big swaths of the gunk for its chicks. In the photo below of the submerging birds you can see how green the disturbed water is, showing the super algae saturation in the ponds right now.

Most of the chicks waited helplessly for their meal, feigning ignorance and/or inability. But some chicks are straight up precocious, like this man-child here. 

And now I must apologize--but not too much--because I'm about to run a series of Great-tailed Grackle images. I don't feel too badly about this for a couple of reasons:
1) Great-tailed Grackles are cool birds for east-coast visitors.
2) Great-tailed Grackles are hardy, cool birds in general, as long as they're not too urbanized such that they've lost their glossy iridescent sheen.
3) Great-tailed Grackles have a glossy, iridescent sheen.

This dude was being all Green Herony near one of the run-off points where I was waiting for a Sora to reveal itself. 

Whenever one gets a chance to capture nictitating membranes in action, it's also worth sharing. I don't know what all this fellow was fishing for: garbage, algae, minnows, larvae...he probably didn't care.

Did you ever have that one friend in high school who was really shameless, dirty, irresponsible, crafty, guileful, and affecting all at once, probably an Italian? He was abrasive and obnoxious, but every once in a while you had to stand back and just admire his incredible good looks and admirable success, even despite how bothersome he was?
Yeah, I didn't have a friend like that either; I don't even think that's a sterotype. But if it were a real thing, it might fit the Great-tailed Grackle pretty well.

"I'm my own stereotype, a really cool one, way better than any you can think of because of your narrow life experience, punk."

Alright then, I solemnly swear on the little dust pile that's left of my birding and bird blogging reputation never to post Great-tailed Grackle again, even if I see one riding a tiny motorcycle through a ring of fire. Step lightly; step boldly. Drink Bulleit bourbon. This grackle does.

Lake's Park--Boardwalk and Snake Birds

I visited some well known and pristine nature preserves during our trip to Florida in early May. The birding was good, though a bit lower than my expectations, given the reputation that Corkscrew Swamp and J.N. Darling have. To complete the weirdness then, by far the best single-spot birding I had, in terms of overall species seen and the proximity at which they were seen, was a large pre-fabricated suburban hang out called Lake's Park.

Yes, flock to it!

The series of connected reservoirs making up Lake's Park come complete with paddleboat and canoe rentals, and are circumnavigated by bike trails and even a miniature train for the kiddos. Different areas also have sand volleyball, grassy picnicking, and other pedestrian loops through the swampy pine forests. All in all it's a pretty sweet park, but it's also crowded and one really feels the overwhelming 'hand-of'man' effect.

This doesn't stop just about every Florida heron and egret from maintaing at least small breeding colonies in the park, nor the other expected Florida riparian birds from making their appearances. The tree islands provide plenty of seclusion and shelter in the middle of the lakes, and since the water is continually stocked with fish, there's no shortage of food.

In about two hours of birding, I literally re-saw almost every single other bird species I had this far seen in Florida at Lake's Park. It felt a little cheap in a way, since it was not a very natural seeming place (though, again, it was still a very nice city park), but like many other urban birding scenes, it was a great spot to load up on photos.
Upon arriving at the park, my first route was on the lengthy boardwalk vivisecting the largest central lake. From the boardwalk I could look down into the bullrushes and reeds, spying on Anhingas, Grackles, turtles, frogs, and any trolls living under the bridge.

Yes yes, they're Grackles...but hey, Boat-tailed Grackle is not to be underestimated by a predominantly Arizona birder, so here's to a photo-first!

The boardwalk provided a very nice vantage point for this candy-corn Common Gallinule--not always the easiest bird to photograph--and her offspring, which are, given their aesthetic, kind of a bitter sweet bird to photograph.

One of the best initial highlights for Lake's Park, something that made the unplanned stop immediately worthwhile, was the close opportunities for observing Anhingas. These serpentine birds were at most of the other Florida spots I birded, but usually at a distance or seen flying away.
Here, as one might expect at a park bustling with sunburnt fishermen, paddle-boating romantic teenagers, and ice cream-faced little kiddos, the Anhingas were quite used to people. In fact, it was a lesson in patience just waiting for this gal to unwind herself.

Certainly one of the more unique birds in North America for their anatomy/shape and swimming habit, I also noticed, and then later confirmed online, that Anhingas have no nostrils. Perhaps this is an advantage when plying one's trade in smelly swamplands, or when one's primary means of acquiring food is by smashing one's face through it at lightning speed.

At any rate, it was very satisfying to finally get some up-close observations of this bird, all the more so with the rest of the sprawling Lake's Park to explore. More of that to come later.