Natural History Journal

In the world of ornithology, there exist what I like to think of as species pairs: two very closely related species that look very similar and cause no small amount of frustration and confusion for the beginning birder.  Some species become familiar and easily distinguishable from each other with practice, while others remain much more confusing, even to experts.  Some species pairs are best told apart by range and voice alone! A familiar pair in California during the winter months, Snow Geese and Ross's Geese are one such example of two species that share the same range and may even be seen together.  Though at a glance they look almost the same, their physical differences lie in their size and proportions (bill proportions and head shape especially) and a few other slight differences.  In field guides, they look impossibly similar, but in real life, the differences are clear: each species has a completely unique "feel" (known to birders as "jizz," referring

When I called Eric from the hotel in San Luis Obispo to tell him that I had seen a new species on my travels (new to me, not new to science!), he asked, what exactly is a "Scaly-breasted Munia"?  "It sounds more like a lizard than a bird!"  Perhaps, but the "scales" aren't scales at all - the name comes from the lovely, intricate, lacy pattern of feathers on their breast.  Maybe "Lacy-breasted Munia" would sound more appealing.  Other names of the Scaly-breasted Munia ( Lonchura punctulata ) include Nutmeg Mannikin and Spice Finch, names commonly used in the pet trade. The brownish, sparrow-sized Scaly-breasted Munia is an Estrildid finch (family Estrildidae) indigenous to the Old World tropics.  Their native range spans Southeast Asia, India, the Philippines and Indonesia.  They were introduced in the New World through the pet trade (their beauty and gregarious nature apparently make them endearing pets, to some...) and escaped birds

California is a large state, spanning 10 degrees of latitude and over 1,000 miles from north to south.  It covers just over 163,000 square miles and elevations range from 282 feet below sea level at Badwater Basin in Death Valley to about 14,500 feet atop Mt. Whitney (that number varies by about ten feet depending on who you ask). Needless to say, though I've traveled to all four corners of the state, up it's rugged coast and down it's spectacular spine (the Sierra Nevada) I haven't even begun to scratch the surface in terms of visiting every little nook and cranny, every hidden gem our diverse state has to offer the intrepid naturalist. I've been traveling recently (thanks to a cousin's wedding), and found myself in a new-to-me part of our state: San Luis Obispo and Santa Barbara counties.  And of course, as is always the case when visiting new places, there are new natural wonders to behold: new birds (like Scaly-breasted Munias - stay tuned), new plants (

Spring is a beautiful time in California's Great Central Valley - the grass is green, the wildflowers are in bloom, the wetlands and woodlands are teeming with new life.  But the season is all too short!  Soon, very soon, the heat will descend and the mercury will remain high until October or so.  In other words, get outside now, while the weather is pleasant!  May is an excellent time to catch the songbird migration through the Valley: flycatchers, vireos, warblers are particularly abundant during this season.   But even if you miss the small, flighty songbirds this spring, there is another type of winged wonder to capture the attention of the naturalist: butterflies!    Red Admiral on Brassica flowers, San Joaquin River NWR   The Red Admiral ( Vanessa atalanta ) is a familiar butterfly across North America.  It's colorful wings, which span nearly three inches, make it distinct enough to be accurately identified by beginning lepidopterologists (entomologists wh

I've  mentioned before  that one of my favorite birding spots close to home (extremely close to home) is the campus of California State University, Stanislaus (also my alma mater).  Since I don't have a backyard at this point in time, exploring the quiet side paths and wild corners of the college campus is as close to watching wildlife from home as I can get (except for the non-native house sparrow that just perched on my porch and the newly-hatched batch of highly invasive European starlings I hear crying from their nearby nest on the electrical box).    The ponds and adjacent areas at CSUS are surprisingly full of life, from the goldfish, bullfrogs and Red-eared Slider turtles of questionable origin in the water itself, to the myriad bird species making their homes in nearby reeds, shrubs, trees and bridges.  (A few of yesterday's Cliff Swallow photos came from one of the bridges on campus.)  A number of Canada Geese have taken up permanent residence on campus, alon

Spring is in full swing here in California's Great Central Valley, and for a naturalist, that means blue skies and warm weather, blooming flowers and budding trees, butterflies and baby animals, and, of course, birds!  Spring brings a whole new assemblage of bird species to the Valley: colorful, subtropical birds that spend winters in Central and South America.  A few of these birds include Western Tanagers and Black-headed Grosbeaks, both of which nest and spend their summers in the conifer forests of the Sierra Nevada; riparian species such as Bullock's and Hooded Orioles; brilliant blue Lazuli Buntings and a host of warbler species.   Another group of birds that have returned are among my favorite birds to watch: the swallows.  Some species, such as the Tree Swallow and Violet-green Swallow remain in the Central Valley through the winter.  (Other populations of these swallows are migratory.  But as long as a food supply - namely insects - is present, sticking around thr