Stalking Creepers in Cave Creek

This weekend I went up to Cave Creek and the Mt. Humboldt area with a couple of specific targets. I needed to add Fox Sparrow, somewhat embarrassingly, to my AZ state list, and I wanted to try for better photos of Townsend's Solitaire and Cedar Waxwing than the pitiful stuff I have so far. Fortuitously enough, Rackensack Canyon, near Mt. Humboldt in Cave Creek, and the Seven Springs Recreation Area some 8 miles further down Cave Creek road, cater to all of these needs.

I spent the first hour or so of daylight scrounging around the scrub wash of Rackensack Canyon, getting brief glimpses and audibles of two slaty Fox Sparrows, in addition to a million billion Spotted Towhees, White-crowns, Scrub Jays, and a surprising couple of Stellars Jays and Rufous-crowned Sparrows. Early cloud cover and the high canyon ridge, plus a general lack of cooperation prohibited any photography, so I moved on to the next objective impatient and grumpy but also pressed for time. 

I had some of the morning's best birding while stopping along the Cave Creek/Seven Springs Road and surveying the juniper bushes. Excellent looks at Juncos, Sparrows, Bluebirds, and a couple of Solitaires justified the trip and the dusty car, even if they were mostly skittish when I'd pull over for better observations. Still, a little pishing near the ever-popular junipers never hurts. Here, a white-crowned Sparrow pops up to eyeball the interloper, while some Western Bluebird coloration is visible through the tangle.

Western Bluebirds were the most numerous species in the juniper hills, outnumbering even the bouncing brainless Kinglets. Given the relative commonness of this bird and their average tolerance of people, I've had a hard time capturing them very well on camera and actually doing justice to their pretty exquisite colors. The struggle continues.

The Seven Springs Recreation Area brings some cottonwood/sycamore riparian habitat into the juniper scrub mix, which makes for a fantastic diversity of habitats and some of the better winter birding in the greater Phoenix area. The Townsend's Solitaries were joined by more deciduous species and plenty of prowling accipiters. 

It's a cluttered mess of an area--great for the birds and tricky to get clear observations.

Perhaps the most unsettling thing about Seven Springs is the significant and terrifying infestation of the riparian trails with Creepers. Skulking, unscrupulous, Brown, and sometimes near-invisible, these Creepers crept all along the woods, devouring insects and peep peep peeping with impunity.

Such discomfort and neck-tingles one feels in these woods, knowing they're around. On the other hand, who am I, or we, to judge the Creeper? I spend my weekends indulging in voyeuristic hobbies of sneaking, spying and, collecting pictures (I'm still talking about birding). Perhaps we are not so different, you and I.

In another life, on another tree, I might have called you friend and ally, Mr. Creeper. Good luck to you, your creepiness. For my money, these are some of the least bird-like birds in the kingdom. They seldom fly, and not sing-songy, and act more like lizards as they scurry up and down in their brown camouflage. At any rate, it's always nice to see them.

Sudden Sedona Syndrome

If you live in the Phoenix area, you'll get it eventually. Maybe it's the rush-hour traffic. Maybe it's the absurdly hot March afternoons. Maybe it's just driving past the same billboard one time too many. For one reason or another, you'll be struck with Sudden Sedona Syndrome, the overpowering desire to escape from the city and lose yourself up north in the mysterious red rocks.

Only an hour and a half away, Sedona is one of the most lauded day-trip destinations in the state, and for good reason. The scenery and hiking trails are among the most beautiful in the country. There is an abundance of wildlife and the crisp cold air stings your nose with a forgotten purity. No wonder then that extraterrestrials often make Sedona one of their favorite destinations, or so some of the locals believe.

I got Sudden Sedona Syndrome this past Saturday (ok, we had actually been planning the trip a bit ahead of time). We enjoyed the lovely four mile hike into the Oak Creek west fork trail, seeing nearly two dozen bird species and soaking in the gorgeous red canyon. The steep, rocky walls and tall pine trees keep much of the canyon shaded throughout the day, and lingering snow can be found at points along the creek throughout much of the year. Birds like the American Robin and Dark-Eyed Juncos love to forage right along the melting line of snow, where they can dig into the moist earth.

In addition to Robins and Juncos, we also saw some lovely Nuthatches, Mountain Chickadees, Acorn Woodpeckers, and Steller's Jays. Adequate lighting for photography was a rare thing, but this was nice in a way as it forced me to pay more attention to those common birds that weren't afraid of the spotlight.  This pair of Robins flew tirelessly back and forth between the muddy creek bed and their nest, no doubt working within a tight timeframe.

Only the finest ingredients go into a Robin's nest...oh the things parents do for their young.

 Although the Robins stole the show, there was no shortage of side acts. It seemed like Oak Creek was swarming with chattery House Wrens all determined to bluff and bluster their neighbors into quiet submission.

With so many bossy House Wrens sounding off, this tiny Pacific Wren was quite content to keep silent.
It ran along its log and took delicate sips of water, trying to attract as little attention to itself as possible. With the Pacific Wren only recently being split from the Winter Wren, this was a new bird for me! We were fortunate to eventually hear it sing, which helped confirm the tricky identification.

The Brown Creeper is another shy denizen of the scrub oak forests. We saw several throughout our hike and they largely paid us no mind as they went about their business of gleaning insects off the tree trunks. It can be very easy to overlook these camouflaged creepers, but sit in any wooded, well watered area and they turn up pretty soon. They're the surreptitious spies of the forest, the sneaky sentries watching you from the woods...

Our little Sedona trip was a great escape from the city. Just as we were heading back to Phoenix the storm clouds moved in, dumping a foot of snow on the red plateaus and following us south to bring a little rain into the desert. There is no known cure for Sudden Sedona Syndrome, but a trip up to the big red rocks once or twice a year is enough to keep us city dwellers going, at least for a little while.

Birding Fun in New Hampshire

The sun is up, the snow is starting to melt, and the birds are coming out here in New Hampshire. The first and most flamboyant representative of the avian world was this Black-Capped Chickadee. These handsome and chubby little birds are very curious, and while they can get bossed around by the Blue Jays, I still deem them to be the mascots of the wintery forest.

To my surprise, there was also a strong presence of American Gold Finches around Granite Lake. Since I've been rather spoiled with my Goldfinches, and seen either the non-molting finches in Phoenix or the American Goldfinches in Iowa during the Summer, this was my first sighting of the Goldfinches in their winter eclipse plumage. It's not quite a match for the dandelion yellow they display in the warmer months, but it was still neat to see.

Another unexpected sighting was this little Brown Creeper. Although Creepers are not rare, it's always a bit of a surprise to see them simply because they're small, camouflaged, quiet, and solitary. They range over the entire U.S. and don't mind the winter cold, but given their diminutive behavior, it's just one of those birds you seldom plan on seeing or anticipate like you might with some of the louder or more gregarious woodland birds.

They cling tight and close to the tree trunks, running (creeping) up and down and upside down, gleaning insects and whatever else they find with their decurved beaks.

The White-Breasted Nuthatch is another guaranteed sighting in the winter months. It behaves much like the Creeper, but with its black cap, white undersides, and larger size, it's much more conspicuous. 

Birding in this true winter setting, in these frosted woods, is much different from birding in the Arizona chaparral. Everything is much slower, much quieter, much more determined, and very placid. It's chilly and peaceful, with these little birds providing the only flashes of color and movement apart from the falling leaves and dripping snow.