A Time for Reflection

I'll be working on a sort of self-exploratory essay these next couple days about birding, be it a hobby or a lifestyle, and its socio-political ramifications. In the mean time, I have been reviewing all of my photographic work to date, and have reposted here some of my most successful or fondest photographic experiences from this summer and fall.

This American Robin was the first bird I photographed with my nifty new camera. Knowing absolutely nothing, I went outside and starting snapping away in my then fiance's backyard. I still think the bird's pose and the rough fence make for a well-composed picture, even if there are things I'd try to change now.

This Catbird was the second bird I photographed. It was at almost the same location as the Robin, though I was at a different angle. Again, I was very lucky to have good lighting and a close subject, because this was still in the old days of simple point and click. I still think this is actually one of the best pictures I've taken. At this point, I might've started thinking photography was easy. File that thought away under "cringe-ably wrong". 

Towards the end of August I had a very surreal encounter with this Red-Tail Hawk at the Indian Steele Park in central Phoenix. I was just wandering around when he swooped in and decided to stop for a drink at the little drainage ditch running through the park. He had a powerful stare.

This Green Heron also provided for one of those "can't-believe-my-luck" moments. I wasn't expecting much in way of good birding at the barren little Grenada Park, and then this Heron came into my world (or I into his more likely). This is probably the first (and to date one of the only)  in-flight shots I've gotten of a bird. I really like how the feathers on his back trail out like hair. It was neat to see the Green Heron at full stretch too; usually they're so compact and humble.

This Greater Roadrunner provided me with the sort of photographic opportunity I'd never otherwise hope for. Why he decided to just hop up on this tree and show me his lunch I do not know, but I certainly appreciated it.

This female Black-Throated Gray Warbler was a Life Bird for me, and was also the first good photographic experience I had with a Warbler. If I could do it over, I'd put in some negative exposure compensation, but this was still a great and confidence building encounter.

It's the way things go with birding. Once you see a new bird, you see it all over. That wasn't exactly the case here, but only a few days after seeing the Black-Throated, I saw my first and second Townsend's Warblers as they were passing through to Mexico.

The Gila Woodpecker is an iconic bird of Arizona, in many ways even more prominent than the Cactus Wren. I had been frustrated for a while trying to photograph them, and then one day while I was sitting and reviewing the day's earlier photos, this gentleman came and sat on the one sunny spot next to me in a mesquite tree. His red was showing and he hadn't a care in the world. Magical!

This Elf Owl was a totally unexpected and outstanding find at the Desert Botanical Gardens one  Saturday morning. The Elf Owl is one of the birds I'd never really ever expected or hoped to see; with it being small, uncommon, still, and crepuscular, it just wasn't on my horizon. And yet here it was, taking a sunny snooze and paying me no mind as I gawked and gawked. I was incredulous when I first saw it. There's no good way to see the scale in the picture other than my mentioning that the bird's perch was maybe the width of a drumstick. It couldn't have been more than 6 inches tall. So cool!

Watching this Verdin eat her dinner has been one of my favorite photo-ops so far. The lighting was great, and she brought such a medley of colors together. The different shades of gray, the yellow, the slightly visible red on the shoulders, the green and the cobalt blue all made for a great photo shoot.

It's pretty easy to find the resident Cactus Wrens at the Desert Botanical Gardens, and given their acclimation to people, it's not much more difficult to take their picture. It was really nice to get one in a nice setting though--not on the sidewalk or a trash can--and have some color to match its dauntless attitude.

I see more Harris's Hawks in Phoenix than any other bird of prey. I still find them to be pretty visually impressive, with their dark bodies, ruddy shoulders, and the white at the base and tip of their tails. I've taken lots of Harris's pictures, but the sort of distant, powerful, and thoughtful expression captured here is pretty neat and I haven't had it replicated yet elsewhere. It's like he's looking over his shoulder to keep an eye on me, but doesn't want to actually make eye contact or focus on me too much, because he's thinking about higher things (like eating small animals).

It's always funny to see bird tongues. Do you think that Sparrow tongue can taste anything?

The Pied-Billed Grebe photos were satisfying not so much for the photographic quality, but because they vindicated a long and determined stakeout I made to get close enough in the first place. I haven't had much luck approaching Grebes, so here I sat and waited for them to slowly make their way all around the pond while I sat in ambush, and was able to share in their minnow-massacring world for a few exciting minutes.

This Willet was another Life Bird I saw on the San Diego shore. It was  pretty dull gray over its body, but when it spread its wings and ran along the shallows, it presented me with a very cool spread of symmetrical black and white. From time to time I'm reminded of how truly marvelous the bird wing is. So much power and grace of motion is folded so delicately into such a relatively small space, ready to burst forth at any moment and take the bird wherever it wants to go. Bird wings are folded freedom--much better than origami.

I'm not exactly sure why I like this picture so much. In its fall plumage this Yellow Warbler is not near its colorful potential, and it's just giving the sort of standard bird-on-a-stick pose to the viewer. I guess it's the roundness and softness of the bird, which goes so well with the muted yellow. By all rights this is still a beautiful bird, and I'm trying to make myself appreciate fall warblers more. Between the two of us, I'm probably the more insecure.

No photo collage of Phoenix birds would be complete without that noisy and invasive species the Rosy-Faced Lovebird. They're seen and heard all over the valley, but they're just so durned cute and fluffy they never get tiring (nor do they get tired). The Arizona desert has more than its fair share of drab birds. I think it's great that the Lovebirds are bringing more and more color to the valley of the sun.

Weekly Birding Intake

This Saturday was another trip between the Desert Botanical Gardens and the McCormick Ponds. The DBG had its usual residents on display, and I again saw the Vermillion Flycatchers and Sora at the Ponds. Though I did not actually get to add any new birds to my List, it was a very pleasant morning with 60 degree weather and some nice photographic opportunities, even if they were only the usual suspects.

Blue-Gray Gnatcatchers were the first birds of the day. It's hard to encapsulate their cuteness in a far away photograph, but I'll have many more chances at the DBG.

This fall plumage Yellow Warbler, still identified by the white eye-ring with the faint black stripe and yellow supercillium (streak above the eye), was the first to greet me at the Desert Wildflower Garden, although for the most part I saw only Lesser Goldfinches today (several dozen too, they were swarming).

I had a great look at a female Red-Shafted Flicker in the Gardens as well, and in addition to getting a good look at her red undersides, I got to see my first ever Woodpecker tongue!

With the speed of a frog and the daintiness of a hummingbird, the Flicker's tongue quickly steals breakfast out of every nook and cranny.

I also got to see some more Lincoln's Sparrows at the McCormick Ponds. This specimen seemed to have unusually large feet.

I met up with Mr. and Mrs. Butler Sr. at the McCormick Ponds. In addition to the Vermillion Flycatchers, Sparrows, and other commonalities, Mrs. Butler saw an American Kestrel while Mr. Butler also spotted some Spotted Sandpipers and the always lovely Say's Phoebe. As we decided to retreat from the rising sun and heat, we had a parting look at a juvenile Cooper's Hawk. I only saw my first Cooper's Hawk maybe 10 days ago, so this is the third one I've seen now in two weeks. Location Location Location!

Some courteous Killdeer stood guard by the parking lot. This is maybe the closest Killdeer have ever let me get, so naturally it was at a very beautiful area...

It was a lovely day of birding, a restorative jaunt in the natural world to refuel me through to next weekend.

Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher

A small and spunky bird found over much of the U.S., the Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher has become a bit of a nemesis bird for me to photograph. Maria and I first saw the Blue-Gray at the top of Camelback Mountain. We came upon a very cute little couple going about their morning routine (preening, stretching, foraging, pooping) in the shade of a young palo verde tree. They were either very tame or very preoccupied, and we were able to get within a few feet of the charming birds, particularly the beautiful slate-blue male. Needless to say I did not have the camera with me at the time.
We have since returned to Camelback, camera-in-hand, but have been unable to recapture that great first experience (or see them there at all). I see the Blue-Grays around at the Desert Botanical Gardens a lot, but they fancy the larger, more dense trees there and also seem to prefer staying well behind the "Staff Only" gates. I guess we used up our quota of Gnatcatcher luck that wonderful day on the mountain, so for now I must be patient.
*Update* I got some good shots on 11/12/2011, which are posted below.

White feathers on the underside of the tale are diagnostic of a Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher, even if the rest of the body seems just black (like the Black-Tailed Gnatcatcher).

I absolutely love this chalky blue coloring. Its soft, a bit muted, and totally unique.

Early Gnatcatcher Photos

Red-Shafted Flicker

The Red-Shafted Flicker is the prominent western species of Northern Flicker. As with the Gilded and Yellow-Shafted, it can be hard to actually see the colored feathers on this bird's wings and tail until it is flying away from you. I was able to get a few pictures where you can see the red-colored rachis of the feathers, which is a helpful back-up to knowing your species of Flicker.

When you see the black and white speckling and the red lines coming around the tree, you know who to expect!

This female's red feathers were catching the early morning sun pretty well, and she was catching the early morning bugs even better.

I'd never seen a Flicker's tongue before. Their beaks are already long and formidable, but that tongue shoots out with speed and precision. No insect is safe.

Gilded Flicker

The Gilded Flicker is one of three Northern Flicker subspecies, and is found only in the southwest. It sports the red mustache of the Red-Shafted subspecies, but has the yellow rachi and feathers of the Yellow-Shafted.

The yellow rachis, which is sort of like the stem for the feathers, is visible when the Flicker is perched. Since you usually only see the yellow flash of the underside feathers (of the wing and tail) as the bird is flying, observing the rachis is the next best way to identify which species of Flicker you're observing.

A Bird Quiz

I enjoy bird identification quizzes, or rather I enjoy the idea of them. Since I usually do pretty poorly, I guess I also find them frustrating at times. I'm wading into unknown waters here, so let me know how it goes and what you determine these mystery species to be. A lot of these pictures have occurred elsewhere on the blog; no cheating! I always felt it's a little unfair to use super blurry photos on a bird quiz, so I tried to avoid that. It may thus be too easy, let me know!

1.

Taken in Napa, CA

2.

Taken on Camelback Mtn. AZ

3.

Taken on Camelback Mtn. AZ

4.

Taken in Gilbert, AZ, at a riparian area.

5.

Taken at the Desert Botanical Gardens, AZ

6.

Yeah I don't think any hints are needed here.

 7.

Taken in Phoenix, AZ, which is not its normal range.

8.

It's not a Condor

9.

It's not a Vireo

10.

A Salute to Sparrows

These last several months of birding have been fantastic. New species, photographs, and wonderful experiences have abounded with the burgeoning Autumn, and the emberizids have been especially well represented this fall. Sparrows seem to really revel in the autumn setting, in the dryer climate and browning foliage that exposes its fruit to their relentless pursuit.

I had not paid too much attention to Sparrows before I started taking pictures. Unless they were easily recognizable, I was too impatient and lazy to make a proper recording from my binocular observations and later identify the species. I cringe to think of all the great taxonomical opportunities I passed up in my haste, but then again I don't suppose that nagging feeling ever really leaves the eager birder.
With the aid of a camera, I have been able to enjoy the Sparrows and really appreciate their subtle beauty, their aesthetic uniqueness that goes well beyond their eccentric behaviors. It has been my pleasure this autumn to add a half-dozen or so new Sparrows to my List. They have really encouraged my growing addiction to the birding world.

It seems like most Sparrows don't become dull or subdued in the fall and winter months, unlike those finicky warblers. Also, most of these birds were seen within about an 8 mile radius of each other!

This juvenile Black-Throated Sparrow is already pretty good looking. Once his dark beard grows in he'll be the toast of the southwestern male sparrows, and I eagerly await that coming-of-age.

 This juvenile Chipping Sparrow was very content with life on the ground. Although he never let me get close, he also seemed very unwilling to fly away. The speckled breast is common in the juveniles, and the black eye-stripe is very helpful in the diagnosis.

Behold, the stately House Sparrow. They lose their black bib in the fall, which I actually think makes them look a little more clean cut. Despite being one of the most common birds in the U.S., the House Sparrow is still a pretty lil' guy. 

 It's always a bit strange to see one of these birds in the wild. I usually find it a little bit disappointing, which only says something about how jaded and spoiled I've become now with my Sparrow exposures.

The Rufous-Crowned Sparrow was a curious happening outside of the Desert Botanical Gardens. I first saw the bubbly bird hopping around by the side exit as I was preparing my departure, and recognizing it as a different Sparrow, I gave chase. I didn't really know what I was then looking at, but when I by chance mentioned the experience and showed the photos to some of the  at the DBG, they were very surprised.   

My Peterson's Field Guide may be out of date, because apparently this bird is only a very rare visitor outside of southeastern Arizona. This was the first confirmed sighting at the Gardens, and a very special first sighting for me.

The Brewer's Sparrow is what I would call a medium Sparrow. It's doesn't quite have the pop of some of the other emberizids, but it is still a handsome bird when one gets the time to look at it, and they seem very comfortable in their role in the background.

 I didn't have much luck getting close to the Chipping Sparrows this fall, but they still gave me some good looks and provided another new entry on my List. Their facial design and cap is a bit more simple than other Sparrows, so they compensate with a bit more vivacity.

 I was very happy to see this Lincoln's Sparrow while actually pursuing a Marsh Wren around the McCormick Ponds. The light brown on the side of the face and the darker ring on the cheek is very delightful, as is the buffy breast and light streaking leading into the white chin. I have no idea what happened to his tail.

 This Sparrow makes me think of beer (though I guess the Brewer's Sparrow really should) for some reason, which gives it an additional psychological boost to see in the wild on a hot autumn day (only in Phoenix).

 The White-Crowned Sparrow is pretty unmistakable. Their crowns and calls are charming to no end, as is the unusual, darker grey coloration on their bodies. 

They congregate in large numbers during the winter, and I look forward to their massed machinations at the Gilbert Water Ranch.

This Song Sparrow was the most recent addition to the site, and also the most estranged Sparrow, hailing all the way from seaside San Diego. The exceptionally dark streaking threw me for a bit of a loop when first trying to identify the bird, but with a bit of help he was confirmed into the ranks of the Butlers Birds and Things.

I'm very grateful that the Sparrows weren't sparse or sparing this fall. They've made for great field subjects and really helped make me a better, more observant birder.

On an almost unrelated side note, "Sparrowfarts" is an old (1880s) Cheshire slang term that meant, "early in the morning".