Failed Chases and Fine Consolations

Slate-throated Redstart seems to be annual in Arizona now, at least there have been 1 or more reports in AZ for the last few years, typically with one from the Chiris and one from the Huachucas, Santa Ritas, or even Catalina mountains. At the rate they're turning up, I wouldn't be surprised if STRE is the next tropical warbler to establish small breeding populations like the Rufous-caps. But I am getting ahead of myself. STRE is still strictly a vagrant in the state, and one I have now unsuccessfully chased two times (if you don't have a lot of luck or skill, you gotta earn it with raw determination--be the Rudy of birding). The foothills of the Huachuca mountains, as well as the Sierra Vista valley, are pleasant enough but their relatively bland facade belays the richness of birding that is found within their drainages. It's all about the location.

The most recent (and documented) STRE reports have been coming out of Hunter Canyon, one of the shorter and more overgrown canyons in the Huachucas that actually links up with the more famous Miller Canyon next door. Whenever one has the time and stamina to make a chase to the Huachucas it is certainly worth doing. My rarity-chasing success record in these mountains isn't actually very good, but they're probably the best birding destination in the state. It's like going to a bourbon bar that happens to be out of whatever brown liquor you were after that day. You're still there anyway, and there are still 1000 other really good bourbons...so you might as well.

Dipping on the Slate-throat was a bit painful, I should add, because apparently I only missed the bird by about 30 minutes. Over the last few days it seems to have a habit of making two morning appearances any time between 7 and 10am and then disappearing. I missed its morning show, and was not treated to an encore in the time I waited. The main frustration came in knowing the bird was likely still around, but further up canyon/wash or down, in an inaccessible area. Sure enough, it was re-sighted this morning as I sat back in Phoenix (with lots of bourbon). But what else was hanging out in Hunter Canyon? Good friggin' stuff. 

On most days and in most places, Elegant Trogon would be the highlight of any hike, one that often must be earned with blood and tithing. This one almost pooped on me and you can still see the cloacal opening in the feathers--that's the kind of raw footage one gets at Butler's Birds.

Lurking (rather uncharacteristically) like 30 feet away from the Trogon was this peeking Rufous-capped Warbler, now an integrated resident in at least three different Arizona Canyons. The looks and photos did not do this bird justice this time around, but, again, normally the highlight of a any trip.

Hunter Canyon's wash was pretty dry despite recent monsoons in the area, but the surrounding vegetation was very lush and it housed an amazing number of migrant warblers, like some veritable avian hostel in south Germany. Almost all of the migrants were small, skulky, and yellow. I saw more Nashville and Wilson's Warblers in that one area than ever before, and there were Virginia's, Orange-crowned, Black-throated Gray, Yellow, and MacGillivray's as well.

Most of the birds, like the 1st year/1st winter MAWA below, were not dressed to impress, but how many of us really go the full nines when traveling?

Painted Redstarts, on the other hand, are very consistent in their plumage. The fact that every single one of these birds was a painful reminder of the Slate-throated I was not seeing did not deter much from the positives. PAREs are not only colorful. They will glean off of ponderosas like Nuthatches and rifle through leaf littler like Wrens. They do not much worry about people and they are a cornerstone of any alcohol-fueled argument that the western United States also has good Warblers. 

If this bird had a longer tail I could call it a Wrentit and save myself a southern CA trip in the future (not that such a trip should ever be avoided). Alas, it is only a Tit-o-the-Bush. Bushtit comes off as a very positive and single-minded bird in my experiences. In Hunter Canyon, as in many canyons with mid-elevation oak scrub, they were legion.

What is there to say about Arizona Woodpecker? It probably should be our state bird. It is brown-backed. They strip trees--especially burned trees--of their bark. They almost stripped me of my clothes, but that is another story.

Hunter Canyon was pretty dead by later afternoon, and there were also some mean cumulonimbus rolling over the mountains. As such, I cut my losses with the STRE and decide to fortify for the drive back to Phoenix at the Ash Canyon B&B. If one needs to sit and eat warm sandwiches prior to braving the I-10, one should do it at a feeder station. Geri-birding has it advantages, chief among them being easy photo-shoots. I have been in a bit of a slump lately with bird photography so I figured I'd benefit from the handicap-assist. Acorn Woodpecker--the Goth-loving Clown Woodpecker--agrees. 

There was also a male Lucifer Hummingbird at the B&B, outstanding consolation number 3 of the day. The B&B feeders were pretty hotly contested by Anna's, Broad-bills, and Mags, but I happened to spy the LUHU hanging out mercifully away from the red plastic perches. I also turned two German birders onto it and I'm pretty sure one of them farted from excitement, which is appropriate.

I had been planning the Huachuca run for a few days prior, and in the mean time a 4th cycle Sabine's Gull had shown up at the Glendale Recharge Ponds. The handsome bird persisted for a couple of days and was a very nice bird for Maricopa County, especially in such swanky plumage. It wasn't enticing enough to override a trip to down south, but upon arriving back in Phoenix I made the local chase. Apparently the bird had departed Saturday morning and was not seen since (including through Sunday), so once again the birding day ended with a dip. Once again, there was also some consolation in the form of these blurry peeps. 

The bigger, whiter bird is a Sanderling--nothing to sneeze at in Maricopa--flanked by two Baird's Sandpiper bodyguards. Seeing a solitary Sanderling was odd. Sanderlings always come in packs or gangs. What this bird did back on the west coast, whatever caused him to become a Pariah must have been truly heinous. Even the Baird's Sandpipers split off from him pretty soon, and everyone agrees Baird's is a tolerant peep. 

  

Embarrassing fact: this post is the first time that Baird's Sandpiper and MacGillivray's Warbler have been photo-featured at all (to say nothing of 'well'). I need to get out more. 

Fiery Birds in Ash Canyon

There are several famous sit-n'-spots in southeastern Arizona, where generous landowners and B&B managers maintain numerous feeders and lovely properties to keep the beautiful birds of southeastern Arizona concentrated in certain areas. Of course, this also attracts birders. Many of these sites--Paton House, Batiste B&B, Beatty Guest Ranch--have also established themselves as very reliable places to see some of the southeastern rarities. The Beatty place hosts Spotted Owls in Miller Canyon while the Paton House is visited by a Violet-crowned Hummingbird every day. If a birder is hoping to see these species, there are few places better.

Mary Jo's Ash Canyon B&B is another such establishment. Maintained by the very knowledgable and charitable Mary Jo Ballator, it hosts a Lucifer Hummingbird, along with many other pretty plumaged patrons, through the spring and summer. After our thorough birding in Miller Canyon early in the morning and afternoon two weeks ago, we spent some time at Mary Jo's in the hope that a Lucifer's Hummingbird would show itself. It's always easy to spend some time at these sit-n-spots, because there's a guarantee of plentiful, close-up views of many great birds, even if one misses the actual target (which we did. If you're hoping for Lucifer's photos, turn back now).

Lazuli Buntings occur in riparian areas in Maricopa County later in the spring, in conservative numbers and with a certain amount of trepidation. At Mary Jo's, one can sit only a few feet away as they forage, by the dozens, among her hedges and seed-scattered log piles.
Of course, there's a certain dissatisfaction in photographing of cool birds standing on feeders and artificial bird attractions, but the enterprising birder can find sites around the property where, even though though the birds are still sort of baited, they're not directly partaking in the unnatural attractions.

The roving Lazuli Buntings were joined by chipping and Lark Sparrows, along with the occasional, more uncommon Indigo Bunting. Seeing either one of these species is a great treat in Phoenix. Just a few hours down south they actively mingle and feed together in droves.

Many of the male Lazuli Buntings were not in their full plumage yet, and it was charming to see their patches of brown clinging to their caps like velvet on a young deer's antlers.

With the Lucifer Hummingbird proving to be a no-show, the main attraction around the Ash Canyon B&B property, for me, were the black, orange and white birds. This nifty color combination, in addition to describing Halloween, reaches across a few families of birds and, nicely enough, they're all stunningly beautiful.
Bullock's Orioles have made a big power play in recent years and are now, by far, the most common Oriole I see in Maricopa County. There were several of them in Ash Canyon, and even though they were outsized by some of the other O/B/W birds, they stood up for themselves well, and ultimately carved out a parcel of tree to be Bullock's boulevard.

Black-headed Grosbeaks were by far the most numerous of the O/B/W category. At one point, Mary Jo's seed trays had no less than eleven birds, many immature, clambering for a spot and a mouthful of crunchies. They have this massive beak after all. I believe they have an instinctive feeling of insecurity if they're not constantly crushing nuts. Watch out...

The plumage variations on Grosbeaks is quite amazing. Sure, it doesn't compare to Wood Warblers or waterfowl, but it's cool how there's Blue and Yellow Grosbeak, the ravishing Crimson-collared Grosbeak, and then this guy, who could easily fit in with a flock of Orioles if he just traded in the beak.

They're not particularly uncommon in the spring and summer months, nor particularly shy, but it's always exciting to see that bulky mass of orange, black, and white barreling through the air, or for that matter, perched in a mesquite.

The most resplendent of the O/B/W birds down south isn't actually orange at all, but a very striking combination of yellow, orange, and white (*editor's note: I'm purposefully neglecting Flame-colored Tanager from this mix, since it is not a mainstay).

Scott's Orioles used to be a regular occurrence in central Arizona, but I have not seen one in central Phoenix for some years now, and one of the few cosistent places to find them in Maricopa County is on the slopes of Mt. Ord. They were much more plentiful down south, not only at Mary Jo's but also in Miller Canyon and other areas around Ash Canyon. This unsatisfactory young bird was the first one which I got a good visual for the day, but there was better to come.

Especially in the desert, lots of birds adopt the 'economy of style' for their wardrobe, and make the most of various browns, grays, olive, and buffy hues to both look handsome and also blend into their arid environment. The whole Oriole group, much like the Tanagers and Grosbeaks, totally torpedos that idea. They're loud to hear and to observe; loud, but certainly not unpleasant.

Their scarcity in central Maricopa made the Scott's Orioles one of the trip highlights for me, though they were not a lifer, year bird, county bird, or even a month bird. We never get tired of looking at beautiful things or listening to beautiful music either right? I can see why Scott wanted to claim this bird to be his, this bird, and no other.