A Salute to Sparrows

These last several months of birding have been fantastic. New species, photographs, and wonderful experiences have abounded with the burgeoning Autumn, and the emberizids have been especially well represented this fall. Sparrows seem to really revel in the autumn setting, in the dryer climate and browning foliage that exposes its fruit to their relentless pursuit.

I had not paid too much attention to Sparrows before I started taking pictures. Unless they were easily recognizable, I was too impatient and lazy to make a proper recording from my binocular observations and later identify the species. I cringe to think of all the great taxonomical opportunities I passed up in my haste, but then again I don't suppose that nagging feeling ever really leaves the eager birder.
With the aid of a camera, I have been able to enjoy the Sparrows and really appreciate their subtle beauty, their aesthetic uniqueness that goes well beyond their eccentric behaviors. It has been my pleasure this autumn to add a half-dozen or so new Sparrows to my List. They have really encouraged my growing addiction to the birding world.

It seems like most Sparrows don't become dull or subdued in the fall and winter months, unlike those finicky warblers. Also, most of these birds were seen within about an 8 mile radius of each other!

This juvenile Black-Throated Sparrow is already pretty good looking. Once his dark beard grows in he'll be the toast of the southwestern male sparrows, and I eagerly await that coming-of-age.

 This juvenile Chipping Sparrow was very content with life on the ground. Although he never let me get close, he also seemed very unwilling to fly away. The speckled breast is common in the juveniles, and the black eye-stripe is very helpful in the diagnosis.

Behold, the stately House Sparrow. They lose their black bib in the fall, which I actually think makes them look a little more clean cut. Despite being one of the most common birds in the U.S., the House Sparrow is still a pretty lil' guy. 

 It's always a bit strange to see one of these birds in the wild. I usually find it a little bit disappointing, which only says something about how jaded and spoiled I've become now with my Sparrow exposures.

The Rufous-Crowned Sparrow was a curious happening outside of the Desert Botanical Gardens. I first saw the bubbly bird hopping around by the side exit as I was preparing my departure, and recognizing it as a different Sparrow, I gave chase. I didn't really know what I was then looking at, but when I by chance mentioned the experience and showed the photos to some of the  at the DBG, they were very surprised.   

My Peterson's Field Guide may be out of date, because apparently this bird is only a very rare visitor outside of southeastern Arizona. This was the first confirmed sighting at the Gardens, and a very special first sighting for me.

The Brewer's Sparrow is what I would call a medium Sparrow. It's doesn't quite have the pop of some of the other emberizids, but it is still a handsome bird when one gets the time to look at it, and they seem very comfortable in their role in the background.

 I didn't have much luck getting close to the Chipping Sparrows this fall, but they still gave me some good looks and provided another new entry on my List. Their facial design and cap is a bit more simple than other Sparrows, so they compensate with a bit more vivacity.

 I was very happy to see this Lincoln's Sparrow while actually pursuing a Marsh Wren around the McCormick Ponds. The light brown on the side of the face and the darker ring on the cheek is very delightful, as is the buffy breast and light streaking leading into the white chin. I have no idea what happened to his tail.

 This Sparrow makes me think of beer (though I guess the Brewer's Sparrow really should) for some reason, which gives it an additional psychological boost to see in the wild on a hot autumn day (only in Phoenix).

 The White-Crowned Sparrow is pretty unmistakable. Their crowns and calls are charming to no end, as is the unusual, darker grey coloration on their bodies. 

They congregate in large numbers during the winter, and I look forward to their massed machinations at the Gilbert Water Ranch.

This Song Sparrow was the most recent addition to the site, and also the most estranged Sparrow, hailing all the way from seaside San Diego. The exceptionally dark streaking threw me for a bit of a loop when first trying to identify the bird, but with a bit of help he was confirmed into the ranks of the Butlers Birds and Things.

I'm very grateful that the Sparrows weren't sparse or sparing this fall. They've made for great field subjects and really helped make me a better, more observant birder.

On an almost unrelated side note, "Sparrowfarts" is an old (1880s) Cheshire slang term that meant, "early in the morning".

Song Sparrow

Maria and I found and photographed this 5 and 3/4 inch Song Sparrow at the Balboa Park in San Diego on Saturday. At first we thought it was some offshoot of the Savannah/Belding's race Sparrow, but the dark streaking on the back and breast, along with the facial coloration (rusty and gray cap and brown eye-stripe especially), didn't quite match up to my satisfaction.
The eye-stripe and dark streaking on the breast do match the typical Song Sparrow, though the back seemed initially too dark for it to be the same species. However with a little bit of online research and some consultation with Robert Mortensen at Birding Is Fun, we confirmed that it is a slightly local variation of the trans-continental Song Sparrow.
A fine looking bird for all seasons!

Here are some lighter variations found at the Tres Rios preserve in Phoenix.

San Diego Shorebirds

Maria and I had a very nice weekend in San Diego to cap off my Fall Break. We explored the Gaslamp District, had a long walk (and then a taxi ride) to Seaworld, and enjoyed the beaches of Coronado Island (where we had the most expensive and delicious margaritas ever).
There was not much time for birding in between, although we did check out the famous Balboa Park that hosted hummingbirds, Black Phoebes, Warblers, and a pair of Cooper's Hawks.
The trip was not a birding trip, but by virtue of it being a new environment, I still got to add several new species to my list just from our romantic sunset on the beach.
The first new bird was none other than the Eared Grebe, which is the most common Grebe in the world despite its rather humble (non-breeding) appearance. We saw three during our two-day stay, and they were always far away, but recognizable nonetheless. Because the black cap extends down through eye level, it is determinably an Eared Grebe and not a Horned Grebe.

Balboa Park is a massive public park north of downtown San Diego. It has lots of gardens and jogging paths as well as some impressive old-growth trees. The park actually contains several different museums, a Botanical Garden, and the famous San Diego zoo--none of which  we had time to check out--so we did see a few birds as we explored.

This aspirant Anna's Hummingbird vivaciously sought his brunch while some prowling Cooper's Hawks  looked on from above.

After the park we had a lovely time exploring Coronado Island, where I believe we witnessed 6 different beach-weddings and watched pelicans diving after their dinner as the sun went down.

This was the first I'd seen of the common and recognizable Heermann's Gulls, who felt comfortable bickering and scrapping with the larger California Gulls that constantly patrolled the beach.

The seagulls seemed to have camps arbitrarily established along the coast, and they would peregrinate between them by flying very low and fast across the beach.

I chased a lone Willet along the surf as well, and while I could never get on the right side of him, I saw enough of his grey body, white eye-ring, and chalky blue legs to identify the species.

Although his non-breeding plumage is a bit dull, when he spread his wings there was a more impressive display of symmetric black and white.

Another first for my List were the Black Turnstones that abounded among the low-tide rocks. They were rugged and determined little shorebirds with unmistakable behavior and plumage. Although I did not find a Ruddy Turnstone, I was very glad to see this quintessential Pacific coast forager. With their compact frames and quick movements, they made for a very opposite but equally effective juxtaposition with the lanky Willet.

Elegant Terns are also a pretty good bird, good and plenty.

The sun was starting to sink pretty quickly as the turnstones hurried about their business (which was mostly turning kelp). While I tried in vain to capture the pelicans diving into the golden water, Maria pointed out some California Gulls caught up in an entertaining dinner dance.

In order to break open the stranded clams, the Gulls would have to take them 20 or 30 feet into the air and drop them repeatedly. I was surprised to see this actually work on the clam shells, but it did expose the Gull's dinner to other sea mooches nearby, so it would have to commit to a frantic dive after its deliberately dropped quarry, and have to replicate the process several times.

It was a beautiful day of relaxing and burgers and ice cream and margaritas (not all at the same time). The sun left a golden glow as its final parting gift (along with some mild sun-burn) and the pelicans saw it off, using every last minute of light to their advantage.

Another Tour at the Ranch

I made another trip to the Gilbert Water Ranch today, hoping for better birding and photos than the last couple days had provided close to home (although, overall, this week off has been filled with some excellent birding adventures). The Water Ranch brings in so much, it would be a rare day indeed for even the most unlucky birder to not come away with some spectacular sighting, and today was another great experience.
There is that certain phenomenon birders have--the closest one word I've found to describe it is synchronicity--when you'll go for years without seeing a bird, or have never seen a bird before, and then after that first watershed sighting, you'll see a whole bunch more soon after. I had such a sort of serendipitous time at the Water Ranch. Earlier this week I had seen Common Yellow Throats, Marsh Wrens, Yellow-Rumped Warblers, and a Loggerhead Shrike, which were all unexpected sightings. I saw all of these species again, within 2 hours, at the Gilbert Water Ranch, and fortunately this time I was slightly more prepared.
I started off by the central entrance with the largest and deepest pond (the one that's always full). As soon as I crossed the bridge, I heard the now familiar calls of two Marsh Wrens, and after a few minutes of patience, I was rewarded with an uncommonly good glimpse of the wary birds in the dull morning light.

I had seen a couple of Marsh Wrens at the McCormick ponds on Tuesday, but had been unable to get a picture that clearly identified them. Now, with great fanfare, the Marsh Wrens were clearly blessing my excursion--deeming me worthy--and I continued on with a tempest of confidence and heavy stomping, which was unappreciated by a few nearby Ring-Necked Ducks.

I didn't see any Avocets today, but the ponds still had large numbers of Black-Necked Stilts as well as Canada Geese and Mallards.

The Red-Wing Blackbirds had arrived in full force, as had the White-Crowned Sparrows. Their immediate visual appeal, as well as their charming calls and lively behavior will keep any birder charmed, so it was very nice to have them bouncing all over the trails and never allowing for a dull moment.

Pond 5 had a particularly large concentration of Northern Pintails, although unfortunately they weren't in their full breeding regalia. I hadn't actually ever written the Pintails down on my List, so I guess this makes them a new bird. There were maybe two dozen around one pond, and I really look forward to seeing them in spring as I think they're one of the prettiest ducks when done up right.

There was also an abundance of the stately American Coots, which are rather curiously listed as 'uncommon' in my Peterson Field Guide. I'm pretty sure I've seen the Coots in or around every single pond, lake, and golf course in Phoenix, although that over exposure doesn't make them any less pleasant.

As I was observing the Pintails, I noticed a pair of Pied-Billed Grebes frolicking in the shade on the opposite side of the pond. The ideal photo spot was already occupied by a transfixed gentleman with an impressive 500mm lens tripod weather-controlling time-freezing setup, so I slowly infiltrated my way around to the Grebes' side of the pond and sat amidst the brush, waiting for my chance.

While I was waiting in photographic ambuscade, I was briefly visited by my burgeoning nemesis the Common Yellowthroat.

I managed a quick hip-shot, just to prove I'm not crazy and keep this ethereal bird from joining the ranks of Bigfoot, El Chupacabra, and the Wilson's Warbler as mysterious creatures only ever seen in shady, out-of-focus areas. Maybe this would be a good photo to submit for one of those tricky online bird identification quizzes?

I was also visited by a passing group of Yellow-Rumped Warblers (fall plumage), another bird I had seen only recently and was now seeing repeatedly at the Water Ranch.

By this time the Grebes had slowly made their way into my photographic line of sight, and it was the delight of the day to finally be close to these charming birds, to watch them swim and fish while the other envious waterfowl looked on and watched.

I had never noticed how the eye-ring continues onto the top of the beak. Very cool.

After observing the Grebes for a while, I left them to their lunch and proceeded to the mudflats. Many of the Stilts and Geese had vacated to more aqueous areas as the sun climbed higher in the sky, but one stubborn Wilson's Snipe had decided to stick it out.

She was pretty far out in the pond--too far for my autofocus to even work--so with manual focus and an increased f-stop I did what I could. The Snipes will start to congregate in large and confidence-boosting numbers later this winter (I remember seeing dozens last December), so I'm looking forward to another opportunity then.

As I started back towards the parking lot, I noticed an odd bird flying in from the west. It was about the size and coloration of a Mockingbird (and there were plenty of those around), but the white patches seemed out of place. 

I was delighted to have the mystery bird land not too far away, and realize it was the second Loggerhead Shrike I had seen now in the last three days. 

This is only the third Shrike I've seen, and the second sighting came rather surprisingly a few evenings ago while I was out walking with Maria. I'm not overly satisfied with the pictures, which don't do justice to such a cool bird, but he was not in any mood to hang around. He had some small critters to torment somewhere, and he was soon on his way.

It was another great day at the Ranch with plenty of the usual and plenty of the unexpected. It capped off this rigorous week of birding in a most satisfactory way, and reiterated the fun and surprise that is near-gauranteed with every bird-related outing.

I thought it would be fun to invert some of the Stilt photos, but in fact it mostly just makes my head hurt.

Pied-Billed Grebe

The Pied-Billed is the second smallest Grebe in North America, but is probably the most widely seen due to its trans-constinental range. They are modest and pretty shy birds, though they are also excellent divers and hunters as far as waterfowl go.

Pied-Billed Grebes are named for the black band that develops on their beaks during mating season. Apart from this signature marking they're pretty dull looking adults, but their chicks look like real firecrackers.

Grebes have a certain reputation for eating feathers, which supposedly helps aid them in digestion (why don't other birds do this then?). While I was not lucky enough to see the couple of Grebes at the Gilbert Water Ranch eating feathers, I did see them devouring minnows with unexpected ease. It was very cool to see them submerge and swim around in the shallow ponds, while the envious Mallards floated above.