Who Needs the Ballet?

As promised, this past weekend was pretty rainy in central Phoenix, and when it wasn't rainy it was still pretty damn gloomy (which will be the case this weekend too). In combination with other business, this was enough of a deterrent for dedicated birding and exploring time through Sunday, but by Monday morning I could no longer resist the Call of the Wild, or of the Almost Wild, or of the Maybe Wild...or of the Definitely Not Wild.

Sunrise is usually good after a storm, even if there was still thick fog in the valley. RTHAs dig it.

Mopey weather given, western Maricopa has been host for the last few weeks to 3 swan species (couldn't turn up that Black Swan, alas), and questions of provenance aside the possibility of logging a '3 Swan Day' was too enticing to pass up.
It may not sound like an obvious migrant trap, but it seems every couple of years the alfalfa fields in the Buckeye/Jackrabbit area of western Phoenix hold one or more wayward Swans. A couple years ago it was a half-dozen Tundra, and this time around a lone Trumpeter decided that here would be as good a place as any to spend the winter.

Lamentably the bird was very far from public roads. Some birders have had luck asking for better access from the hay business in the area, but no dice on MLK Day. TRSW is a great county bird, even if this sighting was sort of better on paper than in practice. Of course, once one gets a taste for Swan--even from range--one is not easily sated.

The Deer Valley golf course, which runs through subdivisions in Sun City West (one of my very least favorite places in Arizona) has a perennial and pinioned population of Mute Swans patrolling its various water features. More excitingly, these birds were joined by a lone Tundra Swan first spotted in December.

Brontosaurus have since been, I recall, adjudicated never to have existed. Maybe the fellow who misconstrued his fossils originally had Mute Swans in mind?

To the extent anything with a large leathery testicle on its forehead can be elegant...these birds are pretty elegant.*Author's note the number of people who report these MUSWs on eBird as "Continuing rarities" is disconcerting.

Scanning the first several ponds where the most recent eBird reports placed TUSW was unsuccessful. The object bird did like to hang around with one or more Mutes (they're good listeners), but there were also Mutes that did not have this noteworthy accompaniment. One such pond did have a noteworthy Vermilion Flycatcher, noteworthy only because, well, it's a Vermilion Flycatcher.

It is widely accepted as impossible to properly photograph/expose this bird in overcast lighting. The color is too saturated at all times.

After dipping on the first 5 of 7 possible ponds I was feeling about as glum as the weather, but the last pair hit pay dirt. Behold this semi-tragic portrait of pinioned (crippled) Mute Swans, the lost Tundra, oblivious CAGOs, disparate lawn colors, and quintessential golf cart in the background. I guess it still beats landfill birding.

More so than other classes, vagrant waterfowl must pass the barometer provenance test. This bird is not a long-time or yearly resident (according to the long-time yearly residents), has all of its flight feathers (and has been witnessed flying), and is not missing any toes. Furthermore, TUSWs do winter somewhat regularly in Prescott, which is only about an hour north. That is negligible straying.

                     

Naturally, if this bird hangs around after spring the provenance question may be opened again. But who could say he/she isn't just staying out of loyalty to the flightless Mute comrades trapped in Sun City, where the grass is well aged?

What nice halluxes you have, Tundra Swan.

Fun fact I read about TUSWs, the symbol of measured passion and love; they pair up for a year before breeding, taking it slow and getting to know. Lewis and Clark dubbed them "Whistling Swans" due to the sound of their wing-beats, but Prudent Swan would also suffice. 

P.S. Here's another Burrowing Owl shot. It was stored on my camera. I do not know when or where I took it, which is unusual. The ubiquitous setting of the shot is thus reflective of the ubiquity of Burrowers out in the agg. fields of west Maricopa--not that I'm complaining.  

Red Herring or a Reddish Egret?

The end of August and early September is a strange time of year for birding in Phoenix. The usual birding patches are often under-populated, but there's and increased possibility to find vagrants at any little golf course pond or park around the city. After seeing a Roseate Spoonbill in Glendale a few weeks ago, I made other trips to the Desert Botanical Gardens, Tres Rios Wetlands, and Recharge Ponds, seeing little of note. Last week I dipped on a juvenile Purple Gallinule in Gilbert, but found myself back in the same area this week looking for a wayward Reddish Egret. After the Gallinule bust I was hesitant to chase another bird out there. It would be in the evening again, it would be buggy, it was overcast, and I didn't want to be late for dinner. Birding under the pressure of a time constraint is always lamentable, especially in the evening, when every wasted minute could cost you dearly, but nonetheless I saddled up and rode out to Gilbert on a red herring for a Reddish Egret.

The Reddish Egret was seen at some office complex ponds a mile east of the Gilbert Water Ranch--funny to see an uncommon vagrant so close to this famous vagrant trap, but not in it. I got an idea of the area thanks to a great, informative post from Peggy Thomas. At first look, the signs were not promising. the cul-de-sac of the pond where the Egret was last seen was deserted but for some manky mallards and a few Coots. Sinking into the mud with every step, I wandered along the western bank of the pond with a lingering pessimism, shooing away flies and looking without any real expectation. Before too long the waterway opened up  the willow trees thinned out. I was standing on the edge of a golf course. Exploring this liminal riparian are took me out of the mosquitos, and the wildlife sightings started to increase as well. A glimmer of Reddish hope was restored, and I switched into Hardcore Peripatetic Birding Mode (oh yeah, we've all been there huh?), using super sleuth skills and the scientific method to find the Reddish Egret.

Are you a Reddish Egret?

No, you are not a Reddish Egret...

Are you a Reddish Egret?

No, you are not a Reddish Egret...

Are you a Reddish Egret?

No, you are not a Reddish Egret...

Are you a Reddish Egret?

No, you are not a Reddish Egret...

Are any of you guys Reddish Egrets?

No, you are not Reddish Egrets...

I had not found the bird but with more sightings I was feeling better about the trip. The narrow, muddy causeway started to widen and the water started to pick up speed. I continued on the back excess of the golf green, moving farther away from the office buildings and the stagnant ponds behind them. Sightings of waders and waterfowl continued, and some distant silhouettes looked very promising.

Are any of you Reddish Egrets?
Yes! One of you is a Reddish Egret!

Ta-Da!

Like the Roseate Spoonbill, this was another new Life-list bird, and one I was not planning on seeing in Arizona. I watched this magnificently graceful bird wade in and out of the shade, careful not to encroach too closely as it plucked fish and frogs from the water features with seemingly little care for how disrespectful he was being of Field Guide range maps.

This Egret, like so many young Egrets before him, was banded in Sonora Mexico on June 11th. It'll be fun to see where else this intrepid traveler turns up this year, and if he decides to hang around the Phoenix area for a while, well, that's fine too.

On the muddy slog back to the car, I was treated to fly-by views of an American Kestrel, Turkey Vultures, Belted Kingfisher (a species of which I do not believe I will ever get a decent photograph), and this Great Horned Owl. The swampy little nook turned out to be a pretty great birding patch, one that I will incorporate into future visits to the area.

Urban Slog: Seeking Avian Treasures Within City Limits

For today's excursion I decided to explore the drainage channels, canals, run-offs, and various other shallow water networks in the Scottsdale area. With all of the golf courses, parks, and hotels, there is a pretty extensive water-supply network, and I didn't really know what I was getting into.
In the 4 hour trip I'm estimating I covered maybe 5 miles of switch-backs, alleys, canals, waterways, and golf courses, and got to explore the behind-the-scenes lifelines of the Scottsdale greenery.
The trip was not a break-through photographically, but I did get to add a few birds to my List and have an adventure along the way.
I first encountered some Brewer's Sparrows as I descended into the basin of drainage ponds on the south side of the McCormick Ranch golf course.

They provided a better look than I had last week when I saw my first Brewer's Sparrows, and had actually and mistakenly used juvenile Chipping Sparrow pictures in their place.
While tromping around the marshes I saw the normal regimen of fall-feathered warblers (warblers in their ubiquitous yellow that I can't really identify, so I just say they're all Yellow Warblers) but was stunned to flush a Common Yellowthroat. This was only the third time I've seen a Common Yellowthroat, despite their name, and since I again failed to get a picture, I've now struck-out with the Yellowthroat and the Wilson's Warblers.




Here is another Yellow Warbler

I followed the water through an overpass and onto the McCormick golf course, where I was met with rather hostile looks from both the golfers and the resident waterfowl.

As one might expect, I saw both Great Blue Herons and Great Egrets pacing around the ponds, and also spotted an un-spotted Spotted Sandpiper busily running back and forth, as though it couldn't decide which bit of mud it wanted to examine first.

The spots only fill in as a part of the Sandpiper's breeding plumage.

I found a nice shady spot next to a weeping willow tree, which worked both for shade and as a bit of a shield against the wary ducks that stayed well out of camera range. I'm pretty sure there were Teals mixed in with the Mallards and Coots, and I did manage to photograph what may be a pair of female Pintails, since few other female ducks have the solidly gray beaks.

From the hidden vantage point, I also managed to get a good shot of a Chipping Sparrow, which I had 

thus far been unable to photograph before they scampered.

I followed the golf course pods out through another underpass into a sort of shallow irrigation system that seemed to run behind lots of the nicer housing projects, and passed a couple of Flycatchers before entering into a more wooded area--the larger trees sinking their roots into the continuos water supply without fear of golf-course horticulture.

 Black Phoebes and Say's Phoebes were the flycatchers of the day.

The McCormick Ranch waterways linked up to the Chaparral Park and golf courses waterways on a north/south route in between Scottsdale road and Hayden. Since the water syphons off to various communities along the way, the wildlife was much less present here, although I did come across a corn snake (?) and a Green Heron.

Look at him dipping his dainty toes in the water.

By time I hit Indian School Road, a good 3 miles or so south of where I started, it was time to turn around. The pond supply line also seemed ready to loop back, and it created a quaint little island that hosted a singular, massive cottonwood tree that must have entertained over a dozen Gila and Ladder-Backed Woodpeckers.

This neat water feature was running in between two neighborhoods. I don't know who put in the bridge, but it's an ideal picnic getaway now.

Unfortunately, I did not have my lunch with me, so I took the quickest route back to the McCormick Ranch spillway where I had parked. 

I decided to double-check the drainage swamps near my car in case the Common Yellowthroat had returned. While there were no warblers to be found, I did stumble upon a ruffled Greater Roadrunner that was contentedly eating bees. He didn't seem to want to move at all, and I had to proceed through the weeds since he had squatter's rights.

 As any spider will tell you, a most intense focus is required to catch a bee.

Click on the image to enlarge and see the bee-in-mouth action!.

This continued my good record of photographing Roadrunners eating things, but the best was yet to come.

While circling the last pond before my car, I saw some subdues movement among the water weeds. A dark shape, maybe 7 inches long, was stirring about in the tulles. I was expecting a cowbird or a blackbird, but when I approached some sort of Rail flushed and flew across the pond. 

I managed to circumnavigate and position myself behind the bird, and with some semi-satisfactory photos I managed to identify it as a Sora, another new bird!

It was a fun trip with some good moments. I can't say I'll do it again, since all in all I didn't see more birds than I would at some other designated birding area. However I was very happy to see the Sora and get a good picture of the Chipping Sparrow. It's nice to see the birds thriving among the city scapes. Wherever you go, there birds will be around you.