Cheetahs Sometimes Prosper: Rare Looks at non-Rare Birds and yet more Chasing

It was another weekend of frenetic chasing for Butler's Birds. My recent weekend endeavors have been restricted to half-days, or part time birding, which doesn't even qualify me for birding health insurance. Without having as much time for the regular, inefficient ambling I so normally enjoy, this means maximizing the 7am-12pm slot with the surer bet in terms of good birds. In other words, I've totally been poaching other people's discoveries. First it was the Sprague's Pipit and then a Harris's Sparrow, both of which showed up as buzzer-beaters just before high noon. This weekend I was back at the Santa Cruz Flats, not too far from the SPPI patch, searching out some birds for which I did not have time to look during previous outings. Trying to balance birding with other things that aren't birding is the worst.  

In one of the remote corners of the Flats is an abandoned property, a chained-off house surrounded by elm and pecan trees as well as sycamore, cyprus, and pomegranate. The space is unoccupied by humans, but its water supply seems to be steady and this surprisingly lush little patch serves as a fantastic migrant trap that has turned up Rufous-backed Robin, Ruddy Ground-Dove, and Spotted Owl in years past. More recently, it has been hosting Black-throated Blue Warbler, American Redstart, and Summer Tanager (early).  

Verdins really want attention, and in a sparse desert landscape I'd recommend giving it to them, but one must keep one's eyes on the prize and ignore their overtures in dense vegetation where vagrants abound.

The BTBW was found end of last December, with the other two birds of note being found by ensuing recovery operations. BTBW is a rare bird for AZ, in that it's not annual, but the truly astounding circumstance was that this warbler, along with his wayward buddies, has stayed happily plopped in this same area for a month and a half, plus he seemed to have left his change of clothes in Michigan or wherever. The worryingly mild winter we've experienced so far has some silver lining I suppose--southern migrants and vagrants lose their urgency to move on.
The BTBW spot is private property and that bird likes it some thick cover in most circumstances, which meant getting clean looks and photos was always going to be a challenge even when the bird did appear. Luckily there was plenty else to observe in the area. Western Meadowlarks serenaded sweetly from cover in the alfalfa fields across the street, and a male Vermilion Flycatcher was displaying and boasting his territory around the yard.

 

VEFL would have to be considered an expected bird in this area, even common, but this fellow granted me some uncommonly good looks while I was waiting for the BTBW, at one point perching very near and doing some calisthenics. Winter never really settled into Arizona this year--even the higher elevations areas are mostly devoid of snow--and what normally starts in March or April for resident birds seems to be starting now.

People had been reporting the birds in different trees at different areas throughout different times of day, most of which were later than when I was looking. A row of smaller elm trees seemed the likeliest early morning stomping grounds for a 'throated' Warbler. Sure enough, specific scrutiny of these trees yielded the BTBW pretty quickly. Check out this action!

Yes, even with a facemelter like ol' Black-throated Blue, these sorts of taunting looks grew stale after a while. The Warbler was just being himself, but those intrinsic proclivities combined with the property restrictions to keep him more or less concealed. 

To liven things up, the female American Redstart made her appearance soon after. She was more apt to forage in an adjacent sycamore or mulberry trees, which were predominantly leafless. However, this also afforded her a higher range and was even further from the road. All this is to say, having crumby looks at great birds is a bittersweet symphony. Later this weekend I was also afforded an equally good bird in AZ with equally poor looks, in the form of the Chestnut-sided Warbler below.

Over the next hour or so, both birds offered brief looks, with the BTBW making the almost fatal (for me) mistake of showing his whole self at one point, which caused me to have a stroke in half of myself. If time were on my side, I would've sat there all day waiting for that perfect moment--such a bird as this is worth it. But there was also a Greater Pewee on the other side of town to try for, and time is seldom on my side...

Ah well, BTBW will be in Tennessee and Carolina this summer, as will I. What will not be there? Vermilion Flycatchers. Crush 'em while you got 'em.

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.