Plan B Birding

I was all set to visit the Desert Botanical Gardens for some evening birding and photography on Wednesday. The plan was to leave work and head over while I still had a couple hours of daylight. But, just as I arrived at work in the morning, I realized I had made the most heinous, egregious, frustrating and teeth-gnashing error of all...I had forgotten my birding gear at home!!!

So, with much self-deprecation, I headed back to the west side of town after work. I got the equipment and resigned myself to some local park birding. I wish I could say there was some special sighting, some serendipitous occurrence whereby I was left thinking, "Wow! What great luck that I forgot my stuff earlier and was forced to come here, otherwise I never would have seen this interesting and beautiful rare bird (yes, that IS how I talk to myself)."

Encanto has been a great local patch, and does produce its share of surprises from time to time, including a Lewis's Woodpecker and Townsend's Warblers. But today was just a normal day, and there were just normal birds (life can be so so hard for birders). Now, I know I promised last week that I'd be one and done with duckling photos, but promises mean nothing to the birds! Encanto was overflowing with ducklings. I counted over 8 distinct Mallard families, each with 6 or more ducklings.

The Ducks weren't the only ones with young out and about. The Lovebird population at Encanto has always been pretty loud and large. Their numbers and noises were swelled by the numerous adolescents. The young Lovebirds have much less red on their face, have much darker coloration on their beaks, and they're noticeably smaller.

There were also some young Neotropic Cormorants hanging around. They were more petite than their older counterparts, and a little less shy. I'm assuming they're Neotropics from all of the brown, though to me the beaks actually look more Double-Crested. Any ideas?

This young un' looked to have a soggy diaper...

Birding at Encanto wasn't the original plan, but it was a nice evening. Their were lots of young birds and the weather dropped into the 70s for the first time this week. It's always good to have a Plan B.

Transfixed at Tres Rios

 For once I decided to be a really dedicated birder and actually try to be at my destination at sunrise. I was successful in that enterprise, but was regretting the choice of wardrobe as the temperature did not rise above 40 degrees for an hour, and I was in shorts. But it was another fantastic morning of birding at the Wetlands nonetheless. Pops met up with me a little later and between the two of us we saw sixty-six species and each got two lifers.

The day started off in an oddly presidential fashion. One of the last streets one crosses while heading down to Tres Rios is Van Buren. While heading south past Van Buren I was driving behind someone with a Washington license plate, and when I parked and exited the vehicle, I was greeted by my first Tres Rios bird, a Lincoln's Sparrow.

Pretty auspicious beginning eh? Well, things only got better. Roosting Great Blue Herons and American White Pelicans maintained constant air traffic up and down the pedestrian stretch, while the handsome Yellow-rumped Warblers and Orange-Crowned Warblers abounded in the low-canopy trees. There were still some wintering ducks on display, including a pair of Buffleheads, six Cinnamon Teal, and this single male Blue-Winged Teal--a species which I don't see enough.

Certainly the most conspicuous residents at Tres Rios were the Red-Winged Blackbirds. There were some Yellow-Headed too, but this time the Red-Wings stole the show. Their numbers continue to increase by the week, and the males are growing steadily more boisterous and belligerent. Of course, this means great viewing for the non-partisan bystander. From 6:30am to about 11am there was a constant cacophony of caterwauling Blackbirds. It was lovely at times, annoying at others, but unfalteringly impressive. Maybe the females felt the same way?

The males would only pause to catch their breath, maybe shift their weight, and then begin the chorus once more. Bulkiness and Braggadocio: the key to a Blackbird's success.



It wasn't just the loud birds out and about either. Of course, Sparrows and Finches abounded in the more arid regions of the trail. The Common Yellowthroats still taunted me with their ephemeral presence, and Common Gallinules slipped in and out of the reedy bank with deliberate silence.

If one really wants to see everything offered at the Tres Rios habitat, one must zig-zag between the river bank on the north side of the path and the woody margin on the south side. While the Red-Winged Blackbirds and Song Sparrows dominated the north side, more muted birds like this Ash-Throated Flycatcher quietly went about their morning routine across the trail.

It was great to reacquaint myself with this confident and composed myiarchus flycatcher. They're often described as a common bird, but I do not see them very frequently. And seeing this bird up close, especially since I had never photographed it before, gave me the same sense of jubilation as when I first discovered it years ago.

But the Ash-Throated was just an appetizer for the awesome flycatcher to come. After rendezvousing with Pops and chasing after some Yellow-Rumped Warblers, we saw a Kingbird perched on the retaining fence across the water.

At first glance, it looked like a Western Kingbird--a cool but fairly common sighting once the weather warms. But, there were also lingering reports of a Tropical Kingbird in the area, and that alone merited a second look. The Kingbird alighted from the fence and treated us to a fine show of airmanship, capturing and subduing a large grasshopper for its brunch. As it resettled and we were able to a closer look...Sure enough! The darker yellow breast extended almost to the chin, and the tail was noticeably notched, whereas the Western Kingbird tail is squared at the end.

"So...come here often?"

New Bird! Very cool. Unfortunately, not all of the new birds for the day were so lively. I still have not seen a wild Barn Owl (nor, more embarrassingly, a Screech Owl). About 3/4 of a mile down the Tres Rios waterway I stumbled upon this once-mighty specimen, deceased for some time. A terrible shame.

Despite that morbid moment, there was still some great birding to be done. Pops and I had earlier been treated to fly-by sightings of Black-Bellied Whistling Ducks (new bird) and White-Faced Ibis. The birds were flying low over the water and disappeared into one of the occasional holding ponds. When we caught up, there was a representative of each species standing vigil on the cement walkway. 

With American Coots and Black-Necked Stilts also present, it made for a very cosmopolitan gathering.   The Whistling Ducks had been on the must-see/should-have-seen list for a while. They were far more beautiful than I expected, with their neatly colored and cropped plumage complemented by perfect posture.

It was a little bit unfortunate to be photographing perpendicular to the sun, but our view of the birds was most excellent. It was great to finally wet our Whistle. Oh and the Ibis? Yeah they're pretty great too. I'd never personally gotten such a good look at the glossy sheen, like mother-of-pearl.

But I think the award for best bird of the day goes to the Whistling Duck, even if the Tropical Kingbird is the rare one. It's unusual for me to see a new bird and get some presentable photos in the same instance. Additionally, the duck was totally stunning, and judging from that oozing-with-self-respect-posture, I'd say he knows it. Also, I guess the Grackle is cool...

With the afternoon getting underway, it was time to eject ourselves from the bird world and make our way back to the cars. Of course, we were birding on the way back, but perhaps the most interesting find was this antique television. It only had one channel, but it was a good one.

We'll have to return to Tres Rios soon for some more outstanding, commercial-free bird watching. I daresay the birding show at Tres Rios is an excellent program, viewable every day.

He Who Wears The Crown

White-Crowned Sparrows are mighty handsome birds. They suffer a bit from over-exposure here during the winter months as they descend on the Valley of the Sun in massive flocks. Even so, I really appreciate that they're a species consistently brave enough to stand their ground when the cameras come out. I had a great time photographing some foraging White-Crowns at the DBG a few evenings ago. Watching birds feed...does it make you pine for the good ol' hunter-gatherer days?

With the DBG in full bloom, it was a colorful all-you-can-eat-buffet, and the White-Crowns were loving every minute of it. I'm not sure they always knew what exactly they were eating, but hey, when you look this good, you don't need to know anything.

For some reason, I'd never taken a picture of the back of a White-Crowns head. Usually a bird's backside is a throw-away shot. But whenever I see the back of the White-Crown's cap I'm always reminded how cool it is. I hope my hair goes white in such a pattern.



The sulking juvenile still seemed a bit reticent to join in the feast, as if his parents were embarrassing him or he just thought the whole thing was, like, totally lame. He perched on the rusty garden fence and sullenly observed the dine-n-dash. Eventually he joined in too, as the juveniles always do.



Pretty birds. I'll miss them when they're gone.

The Whole Bloomin' Garden!

The Desert Botanical Gardens have long been a birding staple of Butlers Birds and Things. It's nearby, has a good variety of species, and brings the birds in close. But into the winter months, they often prune heavily and remove lots of the flowering vegetation. As such, the number of species and sightings drops off dramatically and birders are forced to look elsewhere. Well, the spring planting is now well established, the Gardens are in full bloom, and the birds are coming back. It was a great pleasure to return to these familiar grounds and have another great birding experience, as I had so often last year.

Not all of the winter birds have left yet, and the first to greet me was this confident White-Crowned Sparrow--a bird with a kingly bravery to match its kingly name.

And of course, there were Verdins. There are always Verdins, lots and lots of Verdins. I've never not seen a Verdin at the DBG. I've never gotten tired of seeing Verdins at the DBG : )

The Verdins and White-Crowned Sparrows had no problem being out in the open, nor did the multitude of Anna's and Broad-Tailed Hummingbirds that have descended on the flowering Gardens en masse. There were also some skulkers, some shy birds keeping to the shadows hoping the spastic camera man would pass them by. Wishful thinking birdies!

This Orange-Crowned Warbler was one such wallflower, the first of many I will see this spring.

This male Gambel's Quail was also being a bit mopey. Maybe he was just feeling a little bit trapped. Oh sigh, Mr. Quail, the grass is always greener on the other side...

Speaking of green, this frog was in a very bullish mood, and he filled the small swampy circle at the DBG with his boisterous boasting. This would be all well and good if I were not trying to 'pish' a Common Yellowthroat out of the reeds. Alas, the bullfrog won that singing contest.

This young male Anna's Hummingbird made for some particularly fun observations. He did not seem to like feeding while in flight, and would instead try to perch near or on his desired flower. When he found a nice perch on a fairy duster plant, he blended in very nicely.

When he turned his head and revealed his developing gorget, it was very complementary, his green back and spot of red fitting the color palette perfectly. Soon he'll have his full, manly gorget, and he'll terrorize the flower gardens and try to chase all the other birds away. Of course, this will attract all the more attention from us birders.

Coming Soon To A Bathtub Near You!

Hopefully not, but it would be pretty fun. This Mallard family was quacking it up in the canal near work. Oddly enough, today was picture day at school, and in keeping with that preliminary I decided to stop and photograph these cheerful ducks. They're actually better at lining up and following quacked directions than my class...



I imagine the bird blogosphere will soon be overloaded with duckling photos once spring gets into full force. With this preemptive post I can now pretend to be a trendsetter. These fuzz balls are so darn adorable, especially when trying to swim around each other, which is something at which they're very bad. I only wish the traffic jams awaiting me on the road were this enjoyable.

With Easter weekend also approaching, it seems extra appropriate to have some ducklings on display.

Mama Duck certainly was proud. She showered them with praise, as well as canal water.

Heeby Jeeby Grebeees At BirdingIsFun

Hello Dear Readers,

Be sure to check out my monthly post over at BirdingIsFun on the Grebe species seen in Arizona this winter.

Gettin' Fat on the Mud Flats

I found myself in the east side of town this weekend and decided to revisit the Gilbert Water Ranch. It was a very nice morning of birding, with lots of regulars and some new migrants totaling 74 species in all--not bad for a single location in the suburbs!

That being said, it wasn't a particularly photogenic morning. The vegetation at the Water Ranch has really filled in, and it's becoming increasingly difficult to get clear shots of the birds as they enjoy the springtime foliage.

Yes yes, what a hard life we birders have that leaves and twigs cause us such problems. Luckily, there are always a few places around the water's edge where the vegetation curtails and the birds are more visible. The trade-off is that the birds also tend to be less colorful. But hey a bird is a bird and we are compelled to watch them!

A pair of Canada Geese, along with some Least Sandpipers and Killdeer were all romping it up in the mud flats along the Water Ranch ponds. It was an all-you-can-eat buffet (the best buffet) of invertebrates, roots, and other muddy delectables. Much like at human buffets, the objective was to eat as much as you can as fast as you can, no matter who's watching or taking pictures.

In my book, the Killdeer wins the award for having both the most beautiful eye ring and the most annoying call in the avian kingdom.

Canada Geese, on the other hand, are thoroughly cool, even if they do pronounce some words kinda funny.

The Canada Geese and Killdeer can be found around most ponds and fields throughout much of North America. The Least Sandpiper is not quite as public, though it is still pretty common. That being said, I have a really hard time getting proper focus and exposure on these humble little birds. Their coloration can be challenging, but white and dark brown is by no means an unusual combination for a bird. For me, it's getting good definition on the beak and, when visible, the feet. Since they tend to keep their heads towards the ground, it can also be hard to get a nice catch light in the eye.

Least Sandpipers are very methodical. They seldom stray from their anxious darting routine as they feed. But every once in a while...Woosh! Dynamic Action Pose:

Eventually the grazers all moved on, and it was time for me to get some lunch of my own. Even if they don't pick the nicest scenery, it's nice to have these down n' dirty birds doing their thing while all the pretty warblers stay high up in the trees.

Oh Say's Can You See

I fit in (fitted in?) just a pinch of evening birding on Thursday, hoping to see some first of the season Nighthawks. No luck there, but I did get some great views of the perennially visible and beautiful Say's Phoebe. There were actually a pair of the Phoebes, and they were feeling a bit frisky in the dusky light (no photos there out of respect for their private business). The female preferred to stay low to the ground where she was surprisingly well camouflaged among the granitic rocks. This is an aspect of the Phoebe's plumage that had never occurred to me before. Contrarily, the male perched proud and tall atop this creosote bush, surveying his domain and devouring anything with more than four legs.

I've gushed about my affection for evening light before. It does make flight shots (a fun enterprise with flycatchers) very difficult, but also adds a warm soft glow to the photos, a glow that I find to be a very welcome relief from the white-washing Arizona sun.

If I may Say's so, this cinnamon species is the loveliest of Phoebes.

Stately Birds of State

I'm ashamed to say that I've run out of new material for the rest of this week. As such, I'm repurposing an old post I did for Birding Is Fun on state birds. 

Birders have an odd, or at least an unusual habit. They spend their time and money chasing and watching and listening to various flying things, often with little to show for their efforts beyond a fond memory and a check on a list. Given the semi-eccentric status with which birders are often regarded, it is also a bit odd and fun that, by 1973, every state in the union had chosen an official state bird.

State birds were selected for a myriad of reasons. Some birds were chosen because they were beautiful. Others were chosen because they're mostly unique or exclusive of one particular state, and are therefore more iconic. Many state birds are just common and pleasing sights in their respective states, which may in part be why the Northern Cardinal and Northern Mockingbird represent 12 states between them.

Some birds possess historical associations, while others have an economic importance. At first glance, it may seem unusual that the California Gull is the state bird of Utah, but to the Mormon settlers it was an invaluable ally against the grain-devouring locust swarms in the Salt Lake area. With its red, black, and yellow feathers, the Yellow Shafted Flicker sported the same colors as Alabama's militia and Civil War regiments. The Ring-Necked Pheasant of South Dakota is not even native to North America, but it brings in substantial revenue with the hunting market every year, and is a recognizable part of the rugged Dakota plains culture. 

Pick your poison 

In many cases, the state bird was debated and agreed upon by a state's legislature, and at times even decided by a gubernatorial pronouncement. For some states, there was little debate as to the appropriate mascot. Louisiana already had a pelican on their flag and state seal, and even though the emblem looks more white than brown, the Brown Pelican was installed as the state bird by unanimous decision. It took much more debate to enact the Bluebird as New York's state bird, with representatives of urban constituents lobbying hard for various species of Sparrows and even the Rock Pigeon, on the basis that those birds would be more recognizable to the majority of New Yorkers.

The Cactus Wren was elected Arizona's state bird by unanimous decision on March 16th, 1931. I've always found it to be an interesting decision, given that Arizona hosts so many unique species that are not found elsewhere in North America. There are the magnificent tropical species that make their into the southeast corner of the state, and there are also the common desert dwellers like the Gila Woodpecker, which is seldom found outside of Arizona. And yet, it was the somewhat drab and abrasive-souding Cactus Wren that won high office. 

The Cactus Wren is the largest wren in North America, and it is probably the loudest. This curious and courageous bird can be found almost anywhere in southern Arizona, New Mexico, California, and Texas, though it seldom strays into elevations above 4,000 feet. Unlike the other wrens, which also tend to be less gregarious, the Cactus Wren feels very comfortable both out in the open and near people. The fact that it is fairly common and conspicuous were likely the determining factors in its election as a state representative. 

It is also unique among the wrens in that it keeps its tail pointing downward, using it to help balance as it scurries along tree branches and under shrubs in search of food.

As one might expect, they also make ready meals out of the prickly pear and other cactus fruit that abound in their desert scrub habitat.

Cactus Wrens mate for life and are prolific nest builders. The male will often build 6 or 7 nests, mostly to serve as decoys and larders, before the female picks her favorite and lays her eggs. They like to nest in the cholla cactus and yucca plants around the Desert Botanical Gardens in Phoenix, and will use all kinds of materials in their homemaking.

I'm not sure how well the Cactus Wren's strengths and virtues embody those of the average Arizonan. We don't tend to be too loud or exceptionally large for our species. Then again, Arizona did have a booming housing market, and we do tend to keep our tails pointed downwards, so maybe there is something to it after all.

Birding is fun, and it's interesting to explore all of the different ways that birds impact and express aspects of our culture, even in ways we might not expect. What are some other fun state birds and their connections to the states? How do these birds affect you? Is yours a good representative, or would you nominate another this election year, if possible?