The Birds Speak at Fish Creek

Last Saturday, I made the spectacular drive up to Apache Lake. Our driving itself was not especially spectacular (at least, mine wasn't), but rather the scenery, the winding desert canyons of the Superstition Mountains wowed and amazed with their colorful expanses. We took The Apache Trail/Hwy 88 up to about mile marker 224 and then parked in one of the canyons. After a brief descent, we found ourselves in the verdant, shady declivity known as Fish Creek. The creek runs for a couple miles and empties into Apache Lake. While it is not always flowing, it does serve as a nice shady respite for  lots of wildlife, and our two mile hike was filled with critters.



Upon entering the Fish Creek canyon, we were immediately greeted by Hooded Orioles and Bell's Vireos in the cottonwood trees. A few Northern Cardinals sang along the banks, and another interesting red bird, the marvelous Summer Tanager, paused to observe the curious bipeds stumbling along. This was one of two new birds we saw on this trip, and one I had been hoping to see for some time.



We saw many of the other expected desert/canyon species, including Abert's Towhees and Canyon Wrens. There were also lots of Yellow Warblers, including one male who was constantly followed and harassed by his recently-fledged chicks.While I was following this bubbly group of yellow birds through the desert scrub, I heard a harsh cry echoing through the canyon.

We looked up and saw a magnificent Zone-Tailed Hawk soaring overhead. This was a new bird for me, and it was an incredible experience to see it circling around on the canyon thermals, belting out its dominant call.

We hiked for another mile, observing Kingbirds, Gnatcatchers, and Black Phoebes all gathering nesting material. They were too busy to stop and pose for me, but the myriad of desert lizards were much more accommodating. Maybe it was just their cold-blooded nature combined with the overcast weather, but either way they were very reticent to move from their warm hang-outs. 

Eventually the water in Fish Creek ran out and so did the shady trees. We decided to turn back for the car, but not before I picked up a very nice sunburn. Much like the sunbathing lizards, I have since shed my skin and now feel like a new man!

On the way back, we were treated to more displays from the Zone-Tailed Hawk. The first bird was missing a couple of its primary feathers, and so it was easily recognizable. It was now joined by its mate, and together they glided along the canyon walls with a lofty grace and very appropriate sense of superiority.

Occasionally they would stop and perch on the dried century plants. I was never able to get very close, though I picked up lots of consolation lesions for my troubles. Nonetheless, the Zone-Tailed Hawks and their powerful calls were the highlight of the day, and provided one of the best new-bird sightings this year.

Uno, Dos, Tres Rios!

It's been a whirlwind of busy these last couple weeks. With school drawing to close and evaluations due, there's been little time to tend the bird blog, which is no fair at all. Being unable to post for a while, I now have a serious backlog of photos, all of which were taken at Tres Rios. I've cooed about the biodiversity at Tres Rios many times before, and as I've been reviewing these photos, it's really been driven home that, perhaps on par with the Gilbert Water Ranch, the Tres Rios wetlands are one of the best diverse birding spots in the Phoenix metropolitan area.

Tres Rios has the normal panoply of riparian birds. Green Herons, Blue Herons, Big Herons, Small Herons, Bittern Herons, Black-Crowned Herons, and even Big White Herons, which we here in Arizona call Great Egrets, can all be found along the Tres Rios marshes.

The Great Blue Herons are definitely the most numerous. They have roosting colonies set up all throughout the 3 mile Tres Rios stretch, and often stare down, condescendingly, upon the puny mortals walking below. In fact, sometimes they resemble the American Gothic painting with their stern and serious poses. 

The water works at Tres Rios are predictably flanked by cottonwood trees. These shady bastions are very welcome perches for other large birds and raptors that stay and endure the summer heat. This Red-Tailed Hawk would not endure my presence though, and took off immediately. To be fair, I've been told time and again that it's rude to stare. With birds, it's just so darn tempting...

Bald Eagles, Peregrine Falcons, Harris's Hawks, Kestrels, and Cooper's Hawks can all turn up in the canopies, and there are often surprises too. About three weeks ago I came across this pair of Great Horned Owl chicks. They were each sitting in separate cottonwoods, neither of which had a nest nearby. They didn't move while I was around, so they still trusted in their camouflage better than their flying skills. 

This second chick weirded me out a little bit. Look hard at his face. His beak looks more like a koala bear nose, and some of the feathers on his face form a creepy little smile. He looked like he was contemplating all the different and delicious ways he would capture and eat me when he gets a little bit bigger.

I feel like I left a little piece of my soul lying somewhere, out there in the wilderness where I looked into this evil owl's eyes. We take great risks as birders, greater than any lion-tamer or shark-wrestler or active volcano-bungee jumper that I've ever met.

This past Friday I returned to Tres Rios with Pops and we saw three different Great Horned Owls flying around. At first I thought one was a Short-Eared Owl, since it's tufts were very small and it wasn't big enough to be a full-sized Great Horned. Soon we realized that these smaller Owls were the fledglings, now spreading their wings and beginning to terrorize the terrestrial population.

Like any successful restaurant, bar, or birding site, Tres Rios has its regulars, and plenty of them. However, its reputation extends pretty far, and lots of other summer residents and migratory birds come in for a visit during the spring. The regular birds are a foundation for great birding, but the excitement of migrants and other unusual visitors really keeps the birders coming back.

Let me know if I'm off here, but I'm pretty sure this super yellow nine inch bird is a Brown-Crested Flycatcher. (*Editor's note* Apparently I was way off here, and this is, in fact, also a Dusky-Capped Flycatcher) When I arrived at this spot, his perch was first being used by a Dusky-capped Flycatcher. As soon as the Dusky-capped flew off this Brown-Crsted flew in, as if he had been waiting his turn for some time. He must've been disappointed, because he only stayed for a minute and then also departed. His spot was immediately taken by a Mourning Dove, and at that point we moved on.



This spring I've also seen Tropical Kingbirds, Western Kingbirds, Willow Flycatchers, Cordilleran, Pacific-Slope, and Western Wood Pewees. It's been great to have so many different Flycatchers around, and not just because they keep the insect populations under control.



Other summer residents include Lucy's Warblers, along with Bullock's and Hooded Orioles. It is one of the less discussed phenomena of the birding world that Lucy's Warblers have the ability to make their features blurry, much like Sasquatch. Unlike Sasquatch, they can still be diagnostically identified by the grey body and little plum spots on their head and rump.



Then there are birds like this Indigo Bunting. This was my first confirmed sighting of these magnificent birds, and it was quite a surprise. Lazuli Buntings are a fairly common site at the preserve. Like some of the warblers, they're mostly moving up north. I have no idea what this Indigo Bunting is planning. The bird books don't show them as migrating through or residing in much of Arizona, but that's not a lot to go on these days. The Cornell website shows them as summer residents, but I haven't seen them anywhere else in central Arizona nor heard any other reports--and this bird is a real head-turner. Whatever he decides to do, it doesn't matter to me. When you look this good, you do whatever you want.

Unusual birds like the Indigo Bunting still make for an easy identification, but Pops and I have had a few mystery sightings at Tres Rios too. The swampy scrub grass draws in a lot of the little brown jobs. Song Sparrows are always in concert, and Lark, Lincoln, Vesper, and Brewer's Sparrows often join the cacophony. Soon after seeing the owl fledglings on Friday, Pops and I heard the distinct song of a Cassin's Sparrow somewhere in the ruff. We couldn't get a clear visual, but there were a few other Sparrows around--not necessarily the ones singing--that weren't easily identifiable either.

Here is the ambiguous culprit of the Cassin's song. This is a rare, rufous-morph of Cassin's Sparrow, which is already an unusual bird to find in the Phoenix area. It's a drab bird but still a pretty exciting find.

I'm pretty set on the ID of this last bird. It's a Pygmy Ostrich yes?

To visit Tres Rios is to treat oneself to a bricolage of birds, a feathered frenzy, a glamourous gallimaufry, a singing smorgasbord, a musical mélange. I highly recommend it. 

Burrower's Row

The Phoenix Metropolitan area is a curious concoction. Phoenix itself is a large city, both in terms of area and population. Surrounding the state capital are ten more small cities: Mesa, Glendale, Scottsdale, Tempe, Avondale, Goodyear, Sun City, Gilbert, Surprise, and Peoria. Stretching out from these locales, neighborhoods and master-planned communities seem to stretch on in all directions. One of my favorite birding sites, the Tres Rios Wetlands, sits near the border between west Phoenix and Avondale. While driving to Tres Rios, you'll pass through the cookie-cutter houses of the master-planned communities, neighborhoods where the pursuit of maximized square-footage was once the highest good (priorities and fashions have since changed). You'll also pass through lots of open, odiferous farmland. If you turn and head west just before you reach the Tres Rios site, and follow a dirt road along the farmland canal, you'll find another little planned community. Between the northern borders of the Tres Rios preserve and Farmington Glen sits Burrower's Row.

There are no signs announcing that, "You have now entered Burrower's Row," but there are still markers, of sorts, so you know when you're in the right spot:

Despite the somewhat slovenly appearance of this particular Owl, the residents of Burrower's Row are a very strict bunch. There is always a sentinel at the eastern-most point of entry, perched high on the telephone lines and supervising the little town's security.

The houses (burrows) are arranged in neat rows along the farmland. At the moment, there appears to be no more than 2 Owls living in each Burrow, though there are at least 4 different pairs of Owls. They have a strict home-owner's association, and they keep their domiciles very tidy. It's a pretty homogenous group. Crime rates and taxes are all very low, but sometimes they react to outsiders with astonishment and suspicion, even from afar.

In the morning and during the day, the residents of Burrower's Row like to stay down in the fields, away from the elevated dirt road and its dusty heat. During the evening, the descending sun holds everything in a warm embrace, saying goodbye with its last rays of yellow light, and promising to rise again soon. The Owls like to perch along the frontage road during this time. They preen, gossip, and replay the day in their heads--much like the rest of us. It is best to visit Burrower's Row during these quiet, well-lit moments.

The owl shown below may well be the sheriff of Burrower's Row. While all the other Burrowers were enjoying the fading light, he seemed determined to maintain his stern and serious face. I would vote to re-elect this Owl for sheriff if it were up to me, but alas I wouldn't even qualify for citizenship in Burrower's Row (which is probably a good thing for all parties involved).

"Drat! I knew I stepped in something..."

For this third and last photo, I couldn't settle on a caption. I'd like to leave this last photo open to suggestions. Is the Owl solemnly swearing revenge? Is it doing some sort of fist pump celebration? Is it seeing if it's possible to walk with one's eyes closed? You tell me, and try to stop by and visit the wonderful residents of Burrower's Run some time soon.

A Wash Before Lunch

This past Saturday my family and I decided to do some morning birding and a picnic lunch at Mesquite Wash, a great little birding spot just northeast of Phoenix. The Mesquite Wash is fed by Sycamore Creek, and while there wasn't a lot of water, there was enough to keep things green and cool.

Mesquite Wash is accessible between miles 207 and 208 off the AZ-87 (beeline) highway. There is a parking area to the west of the AZ-87, which didn't give me a great first impression. There was lots of dust and litter, but even as we pulled in we could hear birds singing from the nearby trees, and we caught glimpses of Western Tanagers and Yellow Warblers while still getting stuff out of the car!

From the parking lot, we made the short walk down towards the creek. Along the way we had good looks at some of the desert chaparral birds, including Black-Throated Sparrows, Lucy's Warblers, and Cardinals (which can also be found everywhere else).

Although it was a short walk to the stream, it was also pretty hot, and the discomfort was exacerbated by dust-stirring motorbikes passing nearby. The sound of trickling water was very welcome, and the sight of running water was a little piece of heaven.

The water at Mesquite Wash sustains the cottonwood and willow trees, which reflected their green off its glassy surface and shaded the bathing Lesser Goldfinches.

The birding was good and the environment was very enjoyable--everything was going according to plan. The big surprise came when we spotted this fatty Gila Monster slinking its way up from the water, trying to make a daring 0.024 mph escape back into the bordering grass.

This is the first Gila Monster I've seen in the wild. I must admit, the lizard's comical proportions and plodding pace largely offset its infamous reputation (it is one of only two venomous lizard species). It was very tempting to try and pet his bumpy hide, but getting bitten would've ruined our outing...prudence can be such a difficult thing.

After about half a mile the wash starts to narrow, and the desert canyons become more prominent. This provided a welcome diversity in habitat and birds. We were able to alternate between viewing Yellow Warblers, Warbling Vireos, Wilson's Warblers in the canopies and the Phainopeplas and Lucy's Warblers in the chaparral.

I will not apologize for this photo because it's my first and only Lucy's picture.

I will not apologize for this picture because Phainopeplas are awesome and should be viewed in any way, in any quality, as often as possible.

We also spent some time checking out this flycatcher. Unfortunately, I couldn't get very close for a better photo, and the bird stayed stubbornly still. It did have a notched tail (so no Western Kingbird, it was also too small and slender) but not enough yellow on the breast to be a Tropical Kingbird. My vote is Dusky-Capped Flycatcher, but I am very open to suggestions.

After checking out the desert scene, we stopped to observe a little holding pond. The stagnant water here was very popular with Red-Winged Blackbirds and lots of insects, including this nifty dragonfly which I will not attempt to identify.

We continued down the wash, knowing that soon it would be time to turn back for lunch, but also wanting to explore the liminal space where the water thinned out and the tall trees transitioned into tall grass. The last few trees played host to some Bronzed Cowbirds, one of the cooler kinds of Cowbirds and a species I do not see very often.

The tall grasses below the trees formed a charming little prairie, and it was there that we found the birding highlights of the day. You need a big beak and a big head to eat these mighty grains. This was Grosbeak territory. This male Blue Grosbeak was a lifer for me, one that I have been hoping to see for a long time.

It was only while reviewing photos later on that I discovered he had a female friend, whom you can see in the background. Birds feeding in tall grass make for great binocular looks but less than great pictures. I cared not a lick; the Blue Grosbeak is "epic," to use the buzzword of these last few years.

This azure all-star ascended to the treetops for a brief surveillance before departing. My jaw hurt from hanging open for so long. While crawling along the wash, trying to keep low and small, I had collected quite a few scrapes and scratches, as well as a lovely collection of gravel and pebbles in my pants.  Birding can be dirty, dusty, even painful business. I often feel like those stingy scrapes and after effects make a first-time sighting all the better. Getting a good look at the bird and having a bit of lingering pain...it's like a good stiff drink right afterwards (obviously, having a few scrapes and a stiff drink right after is best). It makes me feel like I've earned it. Anyone agree? 

The Blue Grosbeak was probably the most beautiful bird in the grass, but coming close is second was the male Black-Headed Grosbeak. He too was enjoying the unlimited buffet, and it was at this point that our grumbling stomachs and satisfactory sightings prompted a return to the cars.

On the way back we found lots and lots of tiny frogs in the wash gravel. They were not there when we first proceeded, so we developed the theory that some of the dirt bikes that had earlier gone roaring through had upturned the gravel and disturbed these tiny amphibians. I must admit, I was pretty irked at the dirt bikers for interrupting the serenity of the Mesquite Wash setting, especially because there was plenty of space for them to ride around that was within their limits. That being said, these frogs were pretty cute, and I'm glad I got to see them. This guy was maybe the size of a dime.

We decided to take out picnic lunch to the nearby Saguaro Lake, where we could eat on ridiculously undersized picnic tables (for me anyway) and enjoy some shade that wasn't in the water. In addition to providing a comfortable setting that went very well with our avocado, turkey, and munster cheese sandwiches (score!), Saguaro Lake had a few cool birds too, including a late Yellow-Rumped Warbler, Wilson's Warblers, and Vermillion Flycatchers:

This teasing jelly-belly wouldn't give me a look at his front, but seeing a Vermillion is undoubtedly a great way to end a birding trip, even if it's playing hard-to-get. I'm planning a return to Mesquite Wash later this summer. It was a great birding site by all accounts, and is supposed to be a good location to find Yellow-Billed Cuckoos, another one of my 2012 target birds. The summer is just starting to heat up!

Edward Scissortail

No doubt one of the coolest Flycatchers in our galaxy, the Scissor-Tailed took Tim Burton's bleak plot device (Edward Scissorhands) and said, "You know what, I'll do that with my tail, and I'll make it look good." Let it be not said that the Scissor-Tailed is not a Flycatcher of its word, for it does indeed have scissor-tail, and it does indeed look very, very good.

Scissor-Tails were my favorite birds when I lived in Dallas, and one of my main goals while visiting last weekend was to get some suitable pictures of these daredevil flycatchers. The rainy conditions made photography difficult at first, but with a bit of luck and perseverance my birding buddy Taylor Butler Posey and I found a cooperative pair of Scissor-Tails at Cedar Hill Lake.

This male, told by his exceedingly long plumes (which, with some straining, you can see extend all the way to the left border of this photograph), took a break from his hunting to stare out at the lake.

We pulled into some parking spaces behind him. While the car helped to shield us from the bird and prevented a total retreat, he did relocate to a bush further down the rail. Unfortunately the tail is obscured, but this did give us the opportunity to see the ruby-red armpits, something few adventurers glimpse and live to tell the tale.

Safe and secure atop his new perch, the male struck a few poses, scratched his shoulders, and just generally enjoyed being the most awesome bird in town.

Here you can see the four primaries on the tail, as well as the red epaulet. These features are much less exaggerated on the female, and the male seemed willing to show off.

The female Scissor-Tailed Flycatcher was very comfortable swinging back and forth on her willow perch. Her tail is not as long as the males, neither in overall length nor relative to her body length, and her epaulets are less red. That being the case, she picked a prettier perch than the male and one with more light. I contend that she is thus the photographically superior specimen!

These were the only two Scissor-Tails I saw in Dallas, so I consider myself lucky to have come away with some photos. We got the soul-satisfying view and I am so glad. It would've felt like a failure to leave Dallas without revisiting these graceful birds.

King of the West: Western Kingbird

Western Kingbirds are big, yellow, and ornery, much like Big Bird from Sesame Street. Unlike Big Bird from Sesame Street, they're aesthetically pleasing and can fly really well. What's not to like?

Western Kingbirds can be found throughout most of the western half of the U.S. in the spring and summer months, but they seem to be especially populous in Texas. While on a trip to Dallas last weekend, I had the pleasure of observing these feisty flycatchers once more.

Though I saw lots of them during my morning birding trip to Cedar Hill State Park, I hadn't gotten good pictures yet. I was being driven into downtown Dallas by two excellent and accommodating friends, when I spied a Kingbird perched atop a sign. Upon hearing my panicked cries, they swung the car around and we all transitioned perfectly into safari birding mode--it was marvelous. The Kingbird flew across the street to a new perch, but using great teamwork we all got in the right position to get some shots. Well done team!

He adopted a rusted iron cable for as his perch of terror. From this lofty throne, his majesty would descend to terrorize the fire ant minions living on the ground below, claiming the sacrifices one at a time.



Another reason to love Kingbirds: They massacre fire ants--truly, a King worthy of adulation and praise.