Birder Inferior Jumped the Gun

When  does a hobby become an obsession? Is there anything in between, something that sounds more balanced? Probably so. If you're getting a bit worried and starting to wonder, one sign that one is more than a mere inheritor, hobbyist, or enthusiast would be if one finds oneself embarking on a pilgrimage. 

For baseball fans it's Cooperstown. For Catholics it is maybe the Camino di Santiago. For Floridians it is Gatorland. For birders, it is Magee Marsh. This lengthy but unassuming boardwalk is world-renowned as the site of the Biggest Week in American Birding and a veritable Mecca for both birds and birders come mid-May.

In early April, I found myself eyeing a weekend getaway with Butler's Bird Sr., a birding spectacular of feathered frivolities where the only limits would be the daylight and our knee cartilage. Of course, seasoned birders and people who didn't grow up in the dessert alike will be quick to note there's another factor here, one insufficiently included in the planning. We were looking at the first weekend of May, the very beginning of the month, as it turned out. 

But which way to go, North or South? Swallows or Flickers? Either one sounds like a hot date.

Choices: We could head to South Texas and try to catch the passerine emigrants as they on-shored from their Caribbean commute, or head north to the south shores of Lake Erie and look for those trailblazers preparing to cross into the great boreal beyond. I know what you're thinking...beginning of May? That's early dude. Make like a duck and head south. And that is totally what we should have done. 

But I don't know...the Hajj called. I wanted it to be Magee. I had never been. I had been to South TX (in July...). And Magee was meh : /

It was with fair consternation that I watched the migration and weather reports preceding our trip. A week prior, a number of potential  Lifers were reported in the area, but as the days drew nearer, the forecast looked bleak. This is not to say the birding was poor overall, but relative to opportunity costs and potential, rushing it did not pan out.  

The last week in Magee Marsh, mid to late Maye, they have had 30+ Warbler species, including the highly endangered Kirtland's Warbler, all make appearances. I think we had 5 for the trip, all of which are pretty easy in North Carolina. The week before our arrival, a respectable reporting of migrants was on the public boards, including several lifers. But when we arrived Saturday, there had been none of than Yellow reported in the last 3 days. 

Any day with sentry Wood Ducks is a good day. But if you go to Magee Marsh and the best bird of your weekend there is a Northern Waterthrush - not just yours, but the best bird reported for the weekend on the community boards - then you know something was off. 

Inclement weather throughout the Midwest in the preceding week basically grounded all northerly migration to our area. The Saturday we hit the ground say clouds, wind, and scattered showers with high temperatures in the 40s. There would be very few new arrivals, and what migrants or residents had already arrived would be hunkered down, Catbird style.

It made for some nice sunset angles at least. Almost as Glorious and the Golden-winged Warblers and Blue-winged Warblers that could hAvE YoU Know WhAt NeVeRmInD...

We patrolled that famous boardwalks like sentries on inspection, but failed to turn up much of note. Cruelly, the best bird of Saturday was a Prothonotary Warbler, which breed in the swamps around home. We did out best to help other folks get on what scattered and retiring birds we could, but by midday still had not seen anything that wasn't available down the road at home.

One of the many, many cool things about this area is how many preserves and parks are adjacent on the south shore. Just down the road from Magee Marsh in Ottawa NWR, which also boasts wonderful community spaces and accessibility - seriously inspiring stuff and beautiful grounds, all for $0 admission. They even had complimentary facemelt cream at the visitor center, an amenity provided, no doubt, after feedback from patrons about the abiding Tree Swallows.

As a quick sidenote, I just want to say that this is not a good picture of an American Goldfinch, but American Goldfinches are a special kind of yellow all the same. Kudos to Iowa for recognizing the game, and making them the state bird. Carry on, Goldfinch. Carry on, Iowa.

Drab Gray Catbird for Comparison I guess...

While the overall scene at Ottawa was encouraging from a sort of "future of birding, good of the community" perspective, the species array itself was no improvement on Magee. It was time to chop things up a bit, time to hit the "metzgerei" (butchershop, in German, if college class served me well).

Metzger Marsh was the best of the three sites for May 2nd, delivering a couple of new passerines for the trip (Black-throated Green Warbler, Nashville Warbler) and the chance to break wind without having to worry who's behind you on the boardwalk. 

The migrant trap portion of Metzger Marsh is tiny, a small hovel of trees south of the dam where someone from the Black Swamp Observatory resolutely counts the migrants every a.m. But the small space amounts to high concentrations of birds in a small area (that is also fairly human-lite). Warbling Vireos were the most vocal presence here but it was certainly the most active area we hit, and the lack of shoulder-bumping was a definite plus.  

If you made a pile of all North America's Red-bellied Woodpeckers next to all the Downy Woodpeckers, which pile would be bigger?

The real gem of Metzger Marsh is the wetland drive preceding the dike. If Trumpeter Swans are a junk bird, you are in a good spot. One could pick nits about their unbecoming brown, but why would one want to do that? Then one would just have a bunch of nits in one's hands, and what good would come of that? Best to leave those nits alone and enjoy North America's heaviest flying bird and largest waterfowl as they are.    

Also there were some Sandhills Cranes with a colt nearby. That's fine too. Once you've seen 20,000 at the Whitewater Draw in Az, you've seen them all.

Given the limited access at Metzger, once one has scope main spots there's really not much else. We tried another off-strip area (Touissant NWR) without mush to speak of other than some dead geese floating in the retention ponds. We resupplied and planned a resurgent Sunday while enjoying cocktails and tacos. The Kentucky Derby was also running, a fun and frantic 2 minutes that makes one nostalgic for home...

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.  

Ivy League Birding: Princeton W.A.

It is a lesser known and celebrated fact that the prestigious Princeton College in New Jersey actually is named after a wildlife refuge in eastern Iowa. Of course, most things in the northeast are actually named after obscure midwestern wildlife refuges. This refuge, like the college, has some prestigious and fancy to-do birds. Also like Princeton (honestly, I have no idea) the atmosphere here was bitterly and bitingly cold. The riparian woodlands and the adjacent, off-shooting fingers of the Mississippi provided some flowing water and habitat for those brave wintering waterfowl and other perennial birds. Fanciest of all out sightings was this pair of Trumpeter Swans.

Equally conspicuous, though not due to its size or elegance, was this single Ross's Goose, who was doing its best to stay alive in the rough and tumble world of a Canada Goose Gang.

It is curious to ponder how this single Ross's ended up in this secluded area, without any other Geese of its type. We didn't even see any Snow Geese around. Was he trying to be clever in joining up with this gang, thinking they were one of the groups that would take him to the warm, lush golf courses of Arizona? Did he just get lost or left behind and fall in with the the biggest, loudest, most protecting flock he could find? Are all of the Canada Geese actually his adopted children? Any of these are possibilities.  

 

The woodlands arounds the Princeton water features did well in hosting the expected winter fare for the area. White-throated and American Tree Sparrows were abundant, despite the frigid wind. In fact, what came across as a frigid wind was probably a simple, cool breeze to the tough-as-nails Tree Sparrows.

Red-bellied Woodpeckers were also numerous, and we even got a lifer Red-headed for me, though it took off before it was possible to take any photos. Still, Red-bellied is a pretty good Woodpecker. It's like the finished version of the similarly but more conservatively capped Gila Woodpecker in the southwest.

We picked up a few Downy Woodpeckers as well, though this male was actually photographed at a different site. From this angle, the bird's head reminds me of a Star Wars stormtrooper, which reminds me that I reference Star Wars really often.

The Swans and Ross's Goose were nice finds and unusual for the area. We picked up some Horned Larks on the way out just to add some yellow to the day's color palette, and saw plenty of Kestrels and Red-tails perched along the drive home. So yes, no big deal but now I've birded my way through Princeton. I'll be expecting big grants and offers from the Cornell Ornithology School any day now...