More Birding from the Car(acara)

After spending the first hour or so cruising around the farm roads and chasing Larks, I eventually made my way to Baumgartner Road and the adjacent fields.  This is one of the most reliable areas to see winter-time Caracaras in Arizona, and is also a good spot for combine harrower harvesters, for you tractor watchers out there, and there are also plenty of pecan trees for you nuts. 

 The Caracaras combine forces with the Common Ravens and follow after the combine harvesters, pillaging any disturbed ground for the bugs and rodents as they scatter for safety. It's ruthlessly efficient hunting, everything you'd expect and hope for in a cool predator like the Caracara (yes, Ravens are cool too, but we've known that ever since Oden and Edgar Allen Poe popularized them in 2,000 b.c.)

Despite getting some glimpses of the Caracaras, I could not get close enough for satisfying photos. By this desire, I was forced to chase after the tractors too, looking for the birds that were chasing them, and they chased after the un-harvested crops. I'm sure someone or something was chasing me too, just to keep the chain going. That seems to be the way the universe works. 

Though still distant, one of the Caracaras did perch and pose for a pretty picture with part of Picacho Peak in the background.

While chasing around after the Caracaras and trying to respect the private property/no-trepsassing/we-will-shoot-you-on-sight signs, an old friend caught my eye. The consistently jaw-dropping Vermillion Flycatcher is certainly one of the birds that got me hooked on birding. Now that I was all grown up and chasing after Caracaras and Mountain Plovers, the Vermillion stopped by to remind me of my roots, to remember the classics.

It certainly was a time for some naval-gazing...

He stretched; I stretched; it was good to see this iconic flycatcher again. They're not uncommon in the bottom half of Arizona, but you never know when one will turn up again. He reminded me not to take em' for granted.

After spending some time with the Vermillion, I finally swung around the Baumgartner farms, on the east side of the cattle coral, and got some closer shots of the Crested Caracara. This is a bird that shows it's still possible to be a vulture and be beautiful, and not just beautiful in that wish-washy 'it's-what's-inside-that-counts sorts way, but in the much more important superficial first-impression sense.

Anything but Flat-lining

For the next week or two, I am afraid I must bombard you all with photos and gushings from a recent trip out to the Santa Cruz flats in between Phoenix and Tucson. Though it's only about an hour drive, I was treating this mentally and emotionally like a more serious, longer trip--you know how you've just got heightened levels of determination and focus compared to when you're just ambulin' around the park.

I also had a lot of anticipation for this trip because it would provide a great opportunity for safari birding--spotting and photographing from the comfort and concealment from a vehicle--which is pretty great. Of course, this limits one's access to roads, but birds tolerate automobiles much better than pedestrians (in non-urban settings), plus it's cold at 7:00 am these days. Driving slowly along the dusty agricultural roads west of Picacho Peak, lots of curious birds would pop up to see who else was awake at this hour.

When I am 114 years old, lying on my deathbed ready ti impart some last nugget of wisdom to my progeny it will be this: "Never pass up the opportunity to gawk at a Lark Sparrow."

Of course, with winter happening now, the Phoenix area is crawling with White-crowned Sparrow juveniles and adults. I've no idea what the science is on this, but why does it seems like there are more immature White-crowns around than any other bird? Sure, their young are more visible and recognizable, but you don't see many other immature birds in winter, including other Sparrows, while the precocious White-crowns are everywhere.

One of the larger attractions to farm-field car birding, in addition to the high occurrence of raptors, is the opportunity to photograph Larks. There aren't many grassy fields in the Phoenix area, so if you want Meadowlarks you've got to head to the farms, where you'll find them in relative abundance.

I often frustrated with my photographic attempts at Meadowlarks. I feel like everyone and their grandmother has sweet close-up shots of a Meadowlark singing its heart out from atop a fencepost. In my experiences, they're very shy and often spook if I slow the car down.
Horned Larks are more cooperative, but which species is the more handsome? That is a tough call...

It's also tricky to photograph the Larks when party-pooping Sharp-shinned Hawks keep dive-bombing everyone. This guy didn't even have the courtesy to stop and pose so that he wasn't back-lit.

These birds were all just seen en route to the smaller birding hotspots in the Santa Cruz flats, and there'll be more to come on that front later this week. In the mean time, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you all.