tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28302321409501522892024-03-17T15:22:03.354-07:00Natural History JournalNotes from a California NaturalistSiera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.comBlogger399125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-10764962032421679792024-03-15T13:50:00.000-07:002024-03-15T13:50:26.134-07:00For the Beauty of the Grasslands<p>I am continually overawed by the beauty of California's grasslands. </p><p>Golden through the heat of summer and autumn, winter rains bring transformation to the hills, cloaking them in verdant splendor to rival any other landscape for beauty. Though fleeting, the glories of spring on wildflower-spangled grasslands are a delight to behold.</p><p>Just have a look for yourself!</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgQ4biiuXTLqd6PkfFTNDksf5UHkZ4WR3WZKtD_AiMhveUphZBr6I-NC5s9QbR7XSfJ5d6HkuVH5x4MOrfbQbLNfOevXKonLgb2tsqIpMjYgGO_-qI7KAozdmAd5WwhNh5BkMnRwBjS_2W0X3xq5KHmdELVmPj36bNx1rT2WKAIrjbJbQE7Dc76J0AKQJgJ" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgQ4biiuXTLqd6PkfFTNDksf5UHkZ4WR3WZKtD_AiMhveUphZBr6I-NC5s9QbR7XSfJ5d6HkuVH5x4MOrfbQbLNfOevXKonLgb2tsqIpMjYgGO_-qI7KAozdmAd5WwhNh5BkMnRwBjS_2W0X3xq5KHmdELVmPj36bNx1rT2WKAIrjbJbQE7Dc76J0AKQJgJ=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grasslands in eastern Stanislaus county at sunrise.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sunrise is without question my favorite time on the grasslands. <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2021/10/autumn-on-grasslands.html" target="_blank">Check out this article</a> to experience an autumn sunrise at this same location!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiysuYHU9AjrG5zaLvPLAfPZ3gNHbP21jV5I3GlJ7virhLHilG36VMpmNy--hV7KKYjElKPBbZx_DCGKTjmZZur6_0U7VOqPkurnCl7ojU0dOOnwupqXM7WYs01pvx43vyiFcGLkL2PfajDh-gwKoDlTU3QfcL4yqCOmRNpl0iX_e6csOgqKED811ADvaSQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiysuYHU9AjrG5zaLvPLAfPZ3gNHbP21jV5I3GlJ7virhLHilG36VMpmNy--hV7KKYjElKPBbZx_DCGKTjmZZur6_0U7VOqPkurnCl7ojU0dOOnwupqXM7WYs01pvx43vyiFcGLkL2PfajDh-gwKoDlTU3QfcL4yqCOmRNpl0iX_e6csOgqKED811ADvaSQ=s16000" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">More than just aesthetically pleasing, California's grasslands provide critical habitat for a number of species that are in decline as their habitat shrinks, like <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2018/02/horned-larks-and-californias-prairie.html" target="_blank">Horned Larks</a> and <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2021/05/dance-of-grasshopper-sparrow.html" target="_blank">Grasshopper Sparrows</a>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhnLI4o8pg2YuTcv-MHFChho8jXQO6lf6GpvEyFo6ZUPVxpN676OFwjFrz0hozytkuU2lE6-IMjVC1XUzwyZEQ2qMXpbjU0SI4LLKILyWrBgOV7Mb-8irArSGJvxupHA14zHDqoRnRPJf7C_3_rj395e0HIZzJQWbHDbgHzCBTsjZDRc2vy3uEYLQqWjzA0" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhnLI4o8pg2YuTcv-MHFChho8jXQO6lf6GpvEyFo6ZUPVxpN676OFwjFrz0hozytkuU2lE6-IMjVC1XUzwyZEQ2qMXpbjU0SI4LLKILyWrBgOV7Mb-8irArSGJvxupHA14zHDqoRnRPJf7C_3_rj395e0HIZzJQWbHDbgHzCBTsjZDRc2vy3uEYLQqWjzA0=s16000" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Learn more about the <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2021/02/saving-californias-old-growth-grasslands.html" target="_blank">value of California's grasslands</a>, along with how and why to protect them, <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2021/02/saving-californias-old-growth-grasslands.html" target="_blank">in this article.</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiML_6E4OqOik8pc8FfOCE0nQgrt-hRR0jAOmxqueFMGTqvTMP9r5pgyAF3f1ae-CIs5hLDEwWOU25-_pD4fo9IulvKf0KHlGUGhx3TEL0b0C2iqM3Jqzn9XA0oE3Zzd7c_jgufoNaJGzQUN7Pa1NwHnedt1GwvKRJf3xbkJg9wZMDU4oItw7JMUFrBrMle" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiML_6E4OqOik8pc8FfOCE0nQgrt-hRR0jAOmxqueFMGTqvTMP9r5pgyAF3f1ae-CIs5hLDEwWOU25-_pD4fo9IulvKf0KHlGUGhx3TEL0b0C2iqM3Jqzn9XA0oE3Zzd7c_jgufoNaJGzQUN7Pa1NwHnedt1GwvKRJf3xbkJg9wZMDU4oItw7JMUFrBrMle=s16000" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Tiny treasures in the grass, wildflowers are undoubtedly the stars of the spring grasslands. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjlwi9P_M9NS2kNq3QuJya8xdoQ49C-Wr9NmsTsxL_0OC-Z-K0TJkl3EFd4gUJjJfh1rwpiZN4zmG-_vSS8v6rFhWTyeMVYg5IEO4i4AyqLYtBIJZLv-5q_BaMyjk3NYEvCH8hAuJY_ulQzK88Wq_UybfjzGccYszhQy3l-mc752hFm6D1-_TlAp12u8Ovs" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjlwi9P_M9NS2kNq3QuJya8xdoQ49C-Wr9NmsTsxL_0OC-Z-K0TJkl3EFd4gUJjJfh1rwpiZN4zmG-_vSS8v6rFhWTyeMVYg5IEO4i4AyqLYtBIJZLv-5q_BaMyjk3NYEvCH8hAuJY_ulQzK88Wq_UybfjzGccYszhQy3l-mc752hFm6D1-_TlAp12u8Ovs=s16000" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Check out these articles for tips on how to identify a few of the bright faces you might find peeking out of the grasses in <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2021/04/wildflowers-of-point-reyes-national.html" target="_blank">coastal grasslands (at Point Reyes)</a>, <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2017/04/wildflowers-of-sierra-nevada-foothills.html" target="_blank">Sierra Nevada foothill grasslands (at Hite Cove)</a>, and <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2017/04/wildflowers-abound-at-carrizo-plain.html" target="_blank">Central Valley grasslands (at Carrizo Plain)</a>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEicqmOvvMAYSrPBpuAuMqT7IfqWIaXm4-bQKB54xIDj1TTWvbhYcy1INDcU3YKUOq9lipDHlsOp7VPSgrDXvkt4gc9IjUdmx4AyTMraJMF3hGCgDRP7kLVZEoB2zPAmoZkhnHb7jzjduTTsbC9E9ZgFRINQBKo1Dae0Sv6W9VyB8BPxaXUaOi85colePb02" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4624" data-original-width="3468" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEicqmOvvMAYSrPBpuAuMqT7IfqWIaXm4-bQKB54xIDj1TTWvbhYcy1INDcU3YKUOq9lipDHlsOp7VPSgrDXvkt4gc9IjUdmx4AyTMraJMF3hGCgDRP7kLVZEoB2zPAmoZkhnHb7jzjduTTsbC9E9ZgFRINQBKo1Dae0Sv6W9VyB8BPxaXUaOi85colePb02=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For a truly immersive grassland experience (and a small step back in time), I greatly enjoyed camping in the grasslands at Carrizo Plain National Monument. <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2017/04/when-california-was-wild-glimpse-into.html" target="_blank">Travel with me to Carrizo Plain here!</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi1wl7D6BAvjMis8mGTJs-rCAMj4MRUGmnN3UR9wsopQvCPT782ssXWwZlgJHqf-nnogLEMev5Haju8kEuYm_6NBvxjDeukQmzQn-g2YV_D2DwDTxG6RMTSZpwekdInjc0keQ1AVXWdr-NBdME6FV0RNO-Fw3a_ahWanNyio1iaXBWbJ9-klCFT9ceQaQ2Q" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4624" data-original-width="3468" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi1wl7D6BAvjMis8mGTJs-rCAMj4MRUGmnN3UR9wsopQvCPT782ssXWwZlgJHqf-nnogLEMev5Haju8kEuYm_6NBvxjDeukQmzQn-g2YV_D2DwDTxG6RMTSZpwekdInjc0keQ1AVXWdr-NBdME6FV0RNO-Fw3a_ahWanNyio1iaXBWbJ9-klCFT9ceQaQ2Q=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Or, explore any grassland, meadowland or prairie near you! Our grasslands truly are one of the great - though imperiled - natural wonders of the North American continent. (I fell in love with <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2023/09/pawnee-national-grassland.html" target="_blank">Pawnee National Grassland</a> in northern Colorado last June!)</div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiTrlYdeDEmoD5G8SPLsOYpPpePqYO7NVuymb4ButuEJRvClUDmzHQuGiKRcvKwexQNKAVIxm0bA7oWfigK7-BX9S1l9BbryIthesEIhdDKn__Mh3-MGvHKeiYqvylb8vqB2uPkGeaOOQXW0XMKKjI8ZpYiFLJOTUTUJHY4mDQqUrNR7hHV0QnED7BwWYK6" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiTrlYdeDEmoD5G8SPLsOYpPpePqYO7NVuymb4ButuEJRvClUDmzHQuGiKRcvKwexQNKAVIxm0bA7oWfigK7-BX9S1l9BbryIthesEIhdDKn__Mh3-MGvHKeiYqvylb8vqB2uPkGeaOOQXW0XMKKjI8ZpYiFLJOTUTUJHY4mDQqUrNR7hHV0QnED7BwWYK6=s16000" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I hope you're able to make time this spring to enjoy the beauty of the grasslands, the glory of the skies and the wonder of the wildflowers!</div></div></div></div><br /><p></p>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-30030263211113187632024-03-10T16:02:00.000-07:002024-03-10T16:02:58.714-07:00Winter Warblers<p>While the North American continent waits in eager expectation for spring, the Central Valley of California is already enjoying its first glimpses of that most glorious season: Some birds are defending breeding territory through enthusiastic song, while others are already going about the business of nest site selection, nest building, even egg-laying. </p><p>For many North American birders, the return of warblers in the spring is a special time of year, and one that we Californians eagerly await as well. But we've also been enjoying a few species of warblers all winter. Notably, Common Yellowthroats, Orange-crowned Warblers and Yellow-rumped Warblers all spend the winter right here in the Valley, often in our own backyards! (Black-throated Gray and <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2020/11/a-moment-with-townsends-warbler.html" target="_blank">Townsend's Warblers</a> are around all winter as well, but they're not nearly as frequently encountered, in my experience.)</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgiMemAcl-j33WpaflIaAaUTwZbNEugU25_ttR1ecEIGNx7QUb6rb3LRgpuYxXvthOhKebTT56L8q3GbvY4_TcbksHS-BDXgqVjDuu7HRI3vRVV-rGNS8M0FRLjzFpfQNt8uN5jzca55bNZgEDQtCsUjTwGEbtRVEhNjsL9a2-S87LhENj1S0hiSEFmPW3w" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1755" data-original-width="2551" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgiMemAcl-j33WpaflIaAaUTwZbNEugU25_ttR1ecEIGNx7QUb6rb3LRgpuYxXvthOhKebTT56L8q3GbvY4_TcbksHS-BDXgqVjDuu7HRI3vRVV-rGNS8M0FRLjzFpfQNt8uN5jzca55bNZgEDQtCsUjTwGEbtRVEhNjsL9a2-S87LhENj1S0hiSEFmPW3w=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Male Common Yellowthroat</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>I was blown away when I first learned that a bird as gorgeous as the Common Yellowthroat could be found so near by home, and wondered how on earth I hadn't discovered this delightful fact sooner. </p><p>Common Yellowthroats inhabit damp areas of tangled vegetation where they tend to skulk low in the brush or reeds, and now that I know where to look, I encounter them frequently along wetland edges and riparian areas, where they often stay partially hidden (and can be very difficult to photograph!)</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi9l_JyTJHpfUi9tbYU1vkOszFjqUG94KHfeBNO6F0xmJssgvDU_Fm73809tlvHZKl1Y4OCj0vcnekLarbx97-eGYWn-gHBY4IRX12pIEf1nJLlC2d2b4hshJTomWOZ5q1JiGhjYipWrad2L5B75naPh7sGpakKcZvjU3clJ_g4j79QeV3tIfbpY6CAxT7S" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2435" data-original-width="3648" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi9l_JyTJHpfUi9tbYU1vkOszFjqUG94KHfeBNO6F0xmJssgvDU_Fm73809tlvHZKl1Y4OCj0vcnekLarbx97-eGYWn-gHBY4IRX12pIEf1nJLlC2d2b4hshJTomWOZ5q1JiGhjYipWrad2L5B75naPh7sGpakKcZvjU3clJ_g4j79QeV3tIfbpY6CAxT7S=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Male Common Yellowthroat</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><br /></p><p>Typically, the first clue to the presence of a Common Yellowthroat is its call (described as a low, husky "chuck") or its rollicking song, and time spent listening often pays off in a sighting of one of these beautifully bright yellow, masked warblers. Females are significantly less bright in color, but no less charming.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjrV1aptcngaSEXiIuBD1PPlWbPl7WOxa5PiYpRi0UyE_3sIx7yBYPZi90qwAj97ffDA5ZlAaQ29D_f16sKGvxnPB6jwBMNU6tFZi_UTjux1pxKwz16ey4RXGXAC6NSmU8OY0XZW7Z7hUEuzIpVYAG6wqtPN1M5uaTqtQbQlAnW9sSjYCvTUsUj8lFG47dM" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2743" data-original-width="4272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjrV1aptcngaSEXiIuBD1PPlWbPl7WOxa5PiYpRi0UyE_3sIx7yBYPZi90qwAj97ffDA5ZlAaQ29D_f16sKGvxnPB6jwBMNU6tFZi_UTjux1pxKwz16ey4RXGXAC6NSmU8OY0XZW7Z7hUEuzIpVYAG6wqtPN1M5uaTqtQbQlAnW9sSjYCvTUsUj8lFG47dM=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Orange-crowned Warbler, displaying its rarely-seen orange "crown"</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>Orange-crowned Warblers (the orange "crown" of which is rarely visible!) are usually considered somewhat "drab" by warbler standards, but in the dead of winter, as these little gems flit around my garden, heedless of the fog, I wonder how anyone could ever think that! </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgqZs5ROryhkTDQofnXUWt-i87VSSjc9nQkldBylRM8b5v_Rdxat7oN3C18eXXE5Ty3A3OVojhfw481x7wXwunOy3QDChvjBzJRKBQujvjKnnOzfPKR7ui8ReXzZpfm22Vs0eyTD6FBOuW-mXyFJQjQiYdfp_O-tSVzQcq2uR1PwLRUU0yMMQ1usMdmZfOK" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2763" data-original-width="3923" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgqZs5ROryhkTDQofnXUWt-i87VSSjc9nQkldBylRM8b5v_Rdxat7oN3C18eXXE5Ty3A3OVojhfw481x7wXwunOy3QDChvjBzJRKBQujvjKnnOzfPKR7ui8ReXzZpfm22Vs0eyTD6FBOuW-mXyFJQjQiYdfp_O-tSVzQcq2uR1PwLRUU0yMMQ1usMdmZfOK=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoy this amusing view of an Orange-crowned Warbler from the front!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>Orange-crowned Warblers breed in a wide range of forest types, and during the winter I see them around the Valley in a wide variety of habitats as well, from forest and chaparral to my own backyard. And it's worth mentioning that my backyard Orange-crowned Warblers have a penchant for <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2021/01/more-antics-of-orange-crowned-warbler.html" target="_blank">visiting my hummingbird feeders</a>!</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiby9TR6S6Jmnwnb5TNyLOtH19WQ8A4QPRtTXcqF1T2K2GEHb17e9jPDLnH-VhjHsZv6sbJfS5-pKY8LiNtaPb9feyYGVYubcrjumm0x6kJfJNxQJIn78cRlb94k1mM1Acqd2YxTnqGSL0w6lsjivCmBwwTZdNkhLaxBpqk92M-d8-ltN9WYDUtyI6WSiTZ" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1694" data-original-width="2434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiby9TR6S6Jmnwnb5TNyLOtH19WQ8A4QPRtTXcqF1T2K2GEHb17e9jPDLnH-VhjHsZv6sbJfS5-pKY8LiNtaPb9feyYGVYubcrjumm0x6kJfJNxQJIn78cRlb94k1mM1Acqd2YxTnqGSL0w6lsjivCmBwwTZdNkhLaxBpqk92M-d8-ltN9WYDUtyI6WSiTZ=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Female (or immature) Yellow-rumped Warbler in autumn</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><br /></p><p>Yellow-rumped Warblers, also affectionately known as "butter-butts" and "swarm warblers," are by far the most numerous of our winter warblers, occurring in large numbers almost anywhere there are trees. Their subtle "chek" calls are easy to overlook, filtering softly down through the canopy as loose flocks forage actively above, but are impossible to ignore once you know what to listen for!</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiblrv_HsEjvlxbKjmnXzEc8dItmPl99Qy0p0m61dZrPTyyM2AbEQSrDPOSgIfh6vGd1tgpEpWrPIdPZ4D-YTGa7P1KrN-gflwvidEuPEyN0EAGhBVTxIdMG7bYwgQ_NPqWXjR1KZFz1otfT2VXlmtSCg4s-faKxkSFKur7DR6NbOT0AnJlexdCYWMShf29" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1759" data-original-width="2505" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiblrv_HsEjvlxbKjmnXzEc8dItmPl99Qy0p0m61dZrPTyyM2AbEQSrDPOSgIfh6vGd1tgpEpWrPIdPZ4D-YTGa7P1KrN-gflwvidEuPEyN0EAGhBVTxIdMG7bYwgQ_NPqWXjR1KZFz1otfT2VXlmtSCg4s-faKxkSFKur7DR6NbOT0AnJlexdCYWMShf29=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Male Yellow-rumped Warbler</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><br /></p><p>In April and May, more warblers make an appearance in the Central Valley: Nashville, MacGillivray's, Hermit and Wilson's Warblers pass through on their way to their northerly forested breeding grounds, while Yellow Warblers return to breed in riparian areas.</p>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-82583245415567031002024-02-23T17:02:00.000-08:002024-02-25T09:38:54.894-08:00All The Ducks!<p>On a recent birding trip to Merced National Wildlife Refuge, I tallied up a list of sixteen different species of ducks. Only a few more species, around twenty in total, are expected in the Central Valley of California's freshwater marshes during the winter, so I consider that to be an <i>excellent</i> day for ducks!</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhWJ_QG1M6xT8r_rRO_lCWXxPhrShNY3J2CSyItc1Y5Q-TFvQApjIaNJxg4JPyAoCo7Yst90bTGAxfmEZqOSXWAwOEn9jHuB-TKMbRQmAyFeDPEVY5z3LB9QpBDJXT8YSf4lFh-6bskN6ZvPG2LMugFLVFNUUxwHzi_9HUWa7cqg4_VChT22gSP27l7RN3C" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2114" data-original-width="3171" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhWJ_QG1M6xT8r_rRO_lCWXxPhrShNY3J2CSyItc1Y5Q-TFvQApjIaNJxg4JPyAoCo7Yst90bTGAxfmEZqOSXWAwOEn9jHuB-TKMbRQmAyFeDPEVY5z3LB9QpBDJXT8YSf4lFh-6bskN6ZvPG2LMugFLVFNUUxwHzi_9HUWa7cqg4_VChT22gSP27l7RN3C=w640-h426" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p>North American ducks are broadly separated into two categories, largely based on their methods of foraging for food. </p><p><b>Dabbling ducks</b>, also known as "puddle ducks," tend to frequent shallow water, where they are commonly seen tipping bottoms-up to feed on plant matter and invertebrates in the water and on the muddy bottom. They are most at home in water, but walk easily on land as well, as their legs are positioned near the center of their bodies. The wings of dabbling ducks are relatively large, which allows them to take off from the surface of the water, straight up into their air. Dabbling ducks almost all nest on the ground, near water. </p><p><b>Diving ducks</b> are at home in deeper water, where they dive several feet beneath the surface, submerging completely with a forward leap into the water, to forage for invertebrate prey on the lakebed. Their legs are positioned far back on their bodies, giving them excellent underwater propulsion, but making it awkward for them to walk on land. The smaller wings of diving ducks require that they take a running start across the surface of the water in order to gain enough speed for lift off. Diving ducks tend to nest on platforms of floating vegetation, or in tree cavities. </p><p>Many species of ducks, especially dabblers, that spend the winter in California breed up north in the Prairie Potholes, a region that covers parts of the northern midwestern states and Canadian provinces. This mosaic of grasslands and wetlands is one of the most important ecosystems for nesting ducks in North America. <a href="https://ppjv.org/prairie-pothole-region/" target="_blank">Learn more about the Prairie Pothole region here.</a> </p><p><br /></p><p>And now, here they all are: Twenty ducks found in California's Great Central Valley, presented here in all their glorious dabbling and diving diversity. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Dabbling Ducks</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;">As a general rule, these are the ducks that show up in large winter flocks in wetlands of California's Central Valley.</p><p><b>Wood Duck</b></p><p>Though first in my list of dabblers, Wood Ducks are technically "perching ducks." They are very unlike other dabbling ducks and never show up in large flocks anywhere! Easily our flashiest duck, the Wood Duck is entirely unique in North America; its closest relative is the <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2022/01/the-magnificent-mandarin-duck.html" target="_blank">Mandarin Duck</a> of Asia. As its name suggests, Wood Ducks live in bodies of water that are heavily wooded, like swamps and riparian areas, where they nest in tree cavities and manmade nest boxes. In my experience, Wood Ducks are secretive, flighty and difficult to get very close to.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgFfquT6-Op-avhVuvIKq75ZJXeCTUCuFFOoBpLmzxEz95x7_HA8z53NFRz5ZC5L7dFROtWk7KG01UplRCQvc8E5Ab3jRn7MziqIV2tKXNNPcagLvDckKA3cNwFDmBmtvwaLoOv-UjHoV9zwf9Egv1a4jPdoaDKbs7_XgfnGJFSBBmuv3dFaBqmLWa0S04H" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1782" data-original-width="2496" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgFfquT6-Op-avhVuvIKq75ZJXeCTUCuFFOoBpLmzxEz95x7_HA8z53NFRz5ZC5L7dFROtWk7KG01UplRCQvc8E5Ab3jRn7MziqIV2tKXNNPcagLvDckKA3cNwFDmBmtvwaLoOv-UjHoV9zwf9Egv1a4jPdoaDKbs7_XgfnGJFSBBmuv3dFaBqmLWa0S04H=w640-h456" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Male Wood Duck. The female is muted brown in color, with a teardrop-shaped white eyering.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p><b>Mallard</b></p><p>Our most common and familiar duck, the emerald-headed Mallard is equally at home in city parks and wilderness wetlands. Most breeds of domestic duck have been developed from the Mallard, and wild Mallards and their domestic counterparts interbreed freely when given the chance; an aberrantly colored "mallard" is probably one of these domestic offshoots or hybrids. </p><p>Learn more about Mallards, as well as duck physiology and behavior,<a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2020/04/in-praise-of-ordinary-mallards.html" target="_blank"> in this article</a>.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgMRT_txyABvNvLuX80IYifb1YwrE76Ti3moVTEJB6BSftWAtafJ5AKBFx3kUHNG0vTOd3waDqgfeNKNFZiFrL0P0VYWs4_xTbU1vdMDEn2FrlnISzK_9YCEVc0NXypFiKcIJw1ROwLiuYLcGdKWZEfQqiQQeJJyOmZQOoVSmWu7Qb_ta6TLlGehkX4G4RO" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgMRT_txyABvNvLuX80IYifb1YwrE76Ti3moVTEJB6BSftWAtafJ5AKBFx3kUHNG0vTOd3waDqgfeNKNFZiFrL0P0VYWs4_xTbU1vdMDEn2FrlnISzK_9YCEVc0NXypFiKcIJw1ROwLiuYLcGdKWZEfQqiQQeJJyOmZQOoVSmWu7Qb_ta6TLlGehkX4G4RO=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Male and female (left) Mallard</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p><b>Gadwall</b></p><p>Unlike most males in the duck world, the male Gadwall is nearly as subdued in color as the female. But look closely: The brown of the male Gadwall is shaded and patterned with exquisite detail, and off-set by just the smallest, most elegant touches of black and white. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjU0Pk1dGVUJIJjmY9R1ExDnQJiRFwcw4Zf2vZLiC9qAXK12bNQytFXyX2tUHGBxx4LEL3Z7JrSrmRUww5LsGMFc5nw2MRThXvPJJy6Zbs9gZCImJW_q-o30F4HhqIjIxjxQnWKYwRSNoQLCo8JOjgmoy2HlMR9QkPjdvVf9hwmWKkW8KPTbd43R1hxOUs9" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3005" data-original-width="4147" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjU0Pk1dGVUJIJjmY9R1ExDnQJiRFwcw4Zf2vZLiC9qAXK12bNQytFXyX2tUHGBxx4LEL3Z7JrSrmRUww5LsGMFc5nw2MRThXvPJJy6Zbs9gZCImJW_q-o30F4HhqIjIxjxQnWKYwRSNoQLCo8JOjgmoy2HlMR9QkPjdvVf9hwmWKkW8KPTbd43R1hxOUs9=w640-h464" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Male and female (left) Gadwall</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p><b>Northern Pintail</b></p><p>Arguably our most elegant duck, Northern Pintails have distinct silhouettes on the water as well as in flight: long, thin necks in front and long, pointed tails behind. A thin stripe up each side of the chocolate-colored necks of the male only adds to their grace, and in good light, the "plain" brown head takes on a lustrous, iridescent greenish sheen.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg556sDN5M_RAe7V42l9gU9TvO1zCUyqZ0_bk-k4SOdXID3-t-dHm67iYJSCqAzoRsdw2wZh5Oerls3zpOjQFVZeBIN6LFDPjTU-UTOjXEi-gyli4eHWUlEy4xeFtN7FFaJNOE4ha4GYOb6zgkgqWOSl63kTTYZFwRmzx6adXO1Y9kqGItk19GE1_48EhiY" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1609" data-original-width="2265" height="454" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg556sDN5M_RAe7V42l9gU9TvO1zCUyqZ0_bk-k4SOdXID3-t-dHm67iYJSCqAzoRsdw2wZh5Oerls3zpOjQFVZeBIN6LFDPjTU-UTOjXEi-gyli4eHWUlEy4xeFtN7FFaJNOE4ha4GYOb6zgkgqWOSl63kTTYZFwRmzx6adXO1Y9kqGItk19GE1_48EhiY=w640-h454" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Male and female (front) Northern Pintail</td></tr></tbody></table></div><br /><br /><p></p><p><b>American Wigeon</b></p><p>In good light, the bright white forehead patch and iridescent green thumbprint smudge around and behind the eye of the American Wigeon is diagnostic, while the small, almost stubby-looking bill can be a helpful identifying feature in poor light. In flight, American Wigeons show large white oval patches on their wings. But perhaps my favorite identifying feature of the American Wigeon is its sound: a distinct three-syllable whistling that I think sounds a little like a squeaky toy or a kazoo. (<a href="https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/American_Wigeon/sounds#" target="_blank">Listen here</a>.)</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjBvf_4Do4iUBUZrYa_MeZ_p9htoP4jhKNzUjkSK0Ikz5Ww3IuYlNo3TbkLzwyip7zNmTJ2NvZn6yBGemYa0sNJajTa9qSW6Wb3w3U8rG5E9aUJiX6XUcK-kxGStNVZYat4K4BGy2sI9EZqSsbbZplcHarN4gBm07ORF1X69OM3r-0W273B5jnspi_EkyL8" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2997" data-original-width="4437" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjBvf_4Do4iUBUZrYa_MeZ_p9htoP4jhKNzUjkSK0Ikz5Ww3IuYlNo3TbkLzwyip7zNmTJ2NvZn6yBGemYa0sNJajTa9qSW6Wb3w3U8rG5E9aUJiX6XUcK-kxGStNVZYat4K4BGy2sI9EZqSsbbZplcHarN4gBm07ORF1X69OM3r-0W273B5jnspi_EkyL8=w640-h432" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Male and female (back) American Wigeon</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p><b>Eurasian Wigeon</b></p><p>The Old World cousin of the American Wigeon, Eurasian Wigeons show up in small numbers each winter, associating with flocks of wigeons and other dabbling ducks. A Eurasian Wigeon is always a treat to find, and males are easily distinguishable by their cinnamon-red head and gray body; females look very similar to female American Wigeons. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi5vaKWZdoRZBgf9qzKOMlUBT2sCgI8G_7J33w79g0cyfb077JkrC_pAsK5C3lQ3gQ5uD1wHEqwEReNeAqeI2oKv6qKaws_2Wpo-EPVB4cy2R1NhmFK-IUqU6EWWQ7KDKc1Fa6apo9PvdPm9bIxz2vs54xhL8NhUgdlboLVqoO_vSHOfARVtfBk-1aMxrgC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="940" data-original-width="1412" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi5vaKWZdoRZBgf9qzKOMlUBT2sCgI8G_7J33w79g0cyfb077JkrC_pAsK5C3lQ3gQ5uD1wHEqwEReNeAqeI2oKv6qKaws_2Wpo-EPVB4cy2R1NhmFK-IUqU6EWWQ7KDKc1Fa6apo9PvdPm9bIxz2vs54xhL8NhUgdlboLVqoO_vSHOfARVtfBk-1aMxrgC=w640-h426" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Male Eurasian Wigeon</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p><b>Blue-winged Teal</b></p><p>Less abundant than the other dabbling ducks and never, in my experience, found in large numbers in the Central Valley, Blue-winged Teals are one of the most highly sought-after of the dabblers. The white crescent-moon on the steely blue-gray face of the male is typically what grabs the eye first, but don't miss the intricate patterns and subtle shadings of the body feathers as well! Females show a faint hint of white crescent, but are much more subdued than the males in color. The large blue wing patch is best seen in flight.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhGArN76vMHC3EoWhY7XFEkHqs-nA0Rf05eKDXBWYTk1hgNwVwiUCVadlxBGBVKwscMmYOF2ta5exCuUYwXMLSZUutIisojOPst7wcIXHqmJkigKC4n1Q4MOCsb1KEWxypJ7TQqL5IPnonK9yNjGmCd6mFnkEM-94SWEKCsLKx9T4WEo5MSz1q_MKp76v_3" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2304" data-original-width="3070" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhGArN76vMHC3EoWhY7XFEkHqs-nA0Rf05eKDXBWYTk1hgNwVwiUCVadlxBGBVKwscMmYOF2ta5exCuUYwXMLSZUutIisojOPst7wcIXHqmJkigKC4n1Q4MOCsb1KEWxypJ7TQqL5IPnonK9yNjGmCd6mFnkEM-94SWEKCsLKx9T4WEo5MSz1q_MKp76v_3=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Male and female (back) Blue-winged Teal</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p><b>Cinnamon Teal</b></p><p>There is no other North American duck colored as richly as the Cinnamon Teal, with its ruby-red eyes, ebony black bill, deep cinnamon-colored body, and gold-streaked scapulars and tertials (the feathers more or less on its back). Restricted to the western United States, this special duck is a target bird for many visiting birders, and those of us in the west never get tired of seeing it either! </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjsrklmSvmYXcCz40VW00JtXl8sSmgKndyg_IF7oDaD1wNrNB2_95cErCFtqSoR7nPhuXLMv91TcF5syO77-zeWM-UcMJ2HbDEaoU9ClrkNBOh8ZMeIgCWfwoSBgbHCccWkvO_uXlsgYey05ARObUKwo4SCGyUejcG1udmIVJEeanKqs0abY8RBKyRoDk0c" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2765" data-original-width="3913" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjsrklmSvmYXcCz40VW00JtXl8sSmgKndyg_IF7oDaD1wNrNB2_95cErCFtqSoR7nPhuXLMv91TcF5syO77-zeWM-UcMJ2HbDEaoU9ClrkNBOh8ZMeIgCWfwoSBgbHCccWkvO_uXlsgYey05ARObUKwo4SCGyUejcG1udmIVJEeanKqs0abY8RBKyRoDk0c=w640-h452" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cinnamon Teal males and female (center)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p><b>Northern Shoveler</b></p><p>The Northern Shoveler, with its characteristically large bill, is one of our most common and numerous dabbling ducks, often occurring in flocks of hundreds or thousands of birds in shallow wetland areas. Though females are nondescript in color, they can be readily identified by their large, broad, spoon- or shovel-shaped bill, which they use to filter seeds and invertebrates from the water.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh0Yzv_Hudjqgyh11rpoKtnk3PR1PLojsavruPwQACa9djh1BPSiIK9JtuInc1--GKC6lhgPTTPi8Bce-TGmpcuT8F8i63vyfpipz41YwcnO0pVc9RXcqbk-UK3LuswmS4FamOZ02nWd3_IlTUq8VXFRVt7tYSrCUmW-nZzV--FRO2241xyBAB9W-mzQxzO" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2927" data-original-width="4426" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh0Yzv_Hudjqgyh11rpoKtnk3PR1PLojsavruPwQACa9djh1BPSiIK9JtuInc1--GKC6lhgPTTPi8Bce-TGmpcuT8F8i63vyfpipz41YwcnO0pVc9RXcqbk-UK3LuswmS4FamOZ02nWd3_IlTUq8VXFRVt7tYSrCUmW-nZzV--FRO2241xyBAB9W-mzQxzO=w640-h424" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Northern Shoveler males and females (with their heads tucked)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p><b>Green-winged Teal</b></p><p>Our smallest dabbling duck, Green-winged Teals often gather in large flocks. When spooked, flocks of these little ducks take to the air in one body, maneuvering acrobatically through the air in a style that, from a distance, is surprisingly similar in appearance to that of a flock of sandpipers in flight. The male's whistled "peep" call is a good indication that a flock of Green-winged Teal is in the area. And while the females are fairly nondescript, their small size and delicate proportions are a clue to their identity.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhs_o4aV37cpH0czcSWsdIRP36-5R7Rojl2g7GaqGMLOoLT4hYs1cvYWfglRP-6_m1rZYMpGP0wbjrYpdPC0ATswhyClCfA8-VexqHYvW5toOCz2dIpfpwGuky53SzB7WP7CodXOKstZYQAqKzL6xxUmfwPuJdgPKwnrkHc7oNWFNerhXEJFWPTA_uUdROL" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1837" data-original-width="2477" height="474" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhs_o4aV37cpH0czcSWsdIRP36-5R7Rojl2g7GaqGMLOoLT4hYs1cvYWfglRP-6_m1rZYMpGP0wbjrYpdPC0ATswhyClCfA8-VexqHYvW5toOCz2dIpfpwGuky53SzB7WP7CodXOKstZYQAqKzL6xxUmfwPuJdgPKwnrkHc7oNWFNerhXEJFWPTA_uUdROL=w640-h474" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Male Green-winged Teal</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Diving Ducks</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;">Typically, diving ducks don't gather in large flocks in Central Valley wetlands, and are more likely to be encountered in large numbers on deeper bodies of water, like reservoirs and coastal bays.</p><p><b>Canvasback</b></p><p>Named for its bright whiteish back, the distinct silhouette and dashing colors of the Canvasback make it easy to spot. Even from a distance, the sloping forehead stands out in a crowd, and this feature makes even the more cryptically-colored female easy to identify. In Central Valley wetlands, Canvasbacks are usually found in small numbers, while larger flocks gather at deeper water overwintering sites around the San Francisco Bay. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi_5gqHdrW1uXBJRtAUwLWnCi9vgc7fLV3kvoneDgWKd8GDcrBVymfCS0QkFBY0J84m8kIGT-nGbjlFoGQETQqR9H5ZeyUFSlu_PJ-6_0ESJJYh99OTtNzIfz_oetYGYTKY-udAMgfmoHOrQPOjGGA2ZY8Q4PTG2Gss1MBnpG9gtzEMaTSzMFfSrMTVye8o" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2304" data-original-width="3070" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi_5gqHdrW1uXBJRtAUwLWnCi9vgc7fLV3kvoneDgWKd8GDcrBVymfCS0QkFBY0J84m8kIGT-nGbjlFoGQETQqR9H5ZeyUFSlu_PJ-6_0ESJJYh99OTtNzIfz_oetYGYTKY-udAMgfmoHOrQPOjGGA2ZY8Q4PTG2Gss1MBnpG9gtzEMaTSzMFfSrMTVye8o=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Canvasback males with female (center)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p><b>Redhead</b></p><p>Like Canvasbacks, Redheads never appear in Central Valley wetlands in large numbers, and picking one or two out of a distant flock of ducks is always a fun surprise. While colored similarly to the Canvasback, the two species have very different and distinct silhouettes. Additionally, in good light, the male Redhead's blue bill and golden eye stand out prominently, while the Canvasback's black bill and red eye often blend into their darkly colored heads.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgybiGNVwl04UevSBcU_Y876B8f_2GQFuJKCsQX0HPVPj5inU-ZvN69IArd4rBdq95u_7yGWpuPKrPUEOIHPEcATvR9ItLJT70MKOc-C28Vm5NHld7zjm0084h719tMwqberuUjvK9VMLFqHboa_VFCKmPV_QTeEZpeuwLGWv0WJL_1eISao9OCewXvt9XB" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1248" data-original-width="1676" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgybiGNVwl04UevSBcU_Y876B8f_2GQFuJKCsQX0HPVPj5inU-ZvN69IArd4rBdq95u_7yGWpuPKrPUEOIHPEcATvR9ItLJT70MKOc-C28Vm5NHld7zjm0084h719tMwqberuUjvK9VMLFqHboa_VFCKmPV_QTeEZpeuwLGWv0WJL_1eISao9OCewXvt9XB=w640-h476" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Distant male Redhead with Green-winged Teal</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p><b>Ring-necked Duck</b></p><p>Perhaps a more descriptive name for this duck would be "Ring-<i>billed</i> Duck," since the chestnut-colored ring around their dark necks is not usually visible in the field. Look for the white ring on the gray and black bill instead, and note the black back of the Ring-necked Duck to distinguish it at a distance from similarly-colored scaups. Also notice the distinctly peaked shape of this species' head, which is often visible from a great distance and a helpful diagnostic feature. In good light, look for the breeding male's chestnut neck ring on individuals in flight with necks outstretched, but don't count on it to clinch an ID! </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhfjx6MaN28AjhX3KfsHLNSmIRa7dA4_FiBlhG96_NIg8krB0meE3Hbz9xXnaOtNtpSGmTElAGLFcXyueFbjonil558wg_ww29iGQcmUDvNIxuB-ah_SAqd2Fo6FwLumtTGJ92XkdFzvVuxP6V6W2qq9w4lIQijN4XLey0icFgQNBTbJJdHLq9FWr7471e9" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2304" data-original-width="3070" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhfjx6MaN28AjhX3KfsHLNSmIRa7dA4_FiBlhG96_NIg8krB0meE3Hbz9xXnaOtNtpSGmTElAGLFcXyueFbjonil558wg_ww29iGQcmUDvNIxuB-ah_SAqd2Fo6FwLumtTGJ92XkdFzvVuxP6V6W2qq9w4lIQijN4XLey0icFgQNBTbJJdHLq9FWr7471e9=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ring-necked Duck male and female (right)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p><b>Lesser Scaup</b> </p><p>Similar in color scheme to the Ring-necked Duck, but with a lighter-colored back and less-flashy bill, the Lesser Scaup is the likelier of the two scaup species to be found on freshwater wetlands and reservoirs of the Central Valley. Distinguishing between the Lesser and Greater Scaup can be challenging, and is usually a matter of analyzing head shape: Lesser Scaup has a taller, more peaked head, while the head of the Greater Scaup is more rounded. Other subtle differences in bill and head color are even more tricky to discern and less reliable.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPn18vuTPUQ62IL_qfvHsHkSqJXDZfDdq0fegQVVUFs7YIzoZUKa7YDuI4gHs0bBQoTR6Q2H4h8DbyrCm-a2GRMYwFcDXmcUAkU5YpJ2GWoY6JoYpW4eLayKh8i4v83bPPPd5xgRFWGEFkMGb62jddYGkJGGGUCy-EED-SwGNMfF2z6r2yrzoy_w6Ob-Z3" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1559" data-original-width="2365" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPn18vuTPUQ62IL_qfvHsHkSqJXDZfDdq0fegQVVUFs7YIzoZUKa7YDuI4gHs0bBQoTR6Q2H4h8DbyrCm-a2GRMYwFcDXmcUAkU5YpJ2GWoY6JoYpW4eLayKh8i4v83bPPPd5xgRFWGEFkMGb62jddYGkJGGGUCy-EED-SwGNMfF2z6r2yrzoy_w6Ob-Z3=w640-h422" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lesser Scaup male and female (right)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p><b>Greater Scaup</b></p><p>The Greater Scaup is far less common in the Central Valley than the Lesser Scaup, and is much more likely to be seen along the coast of California on larger bodies of water, especially saltwater bays.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEga5rbT8NsFSSr4MPqLlU7jCJ_SaBy5QOXRF2-aJ1zDylWXIUzKA1WlAUbP0CjuSZFE-TcG9-Hxm-Yl1niWcrYMIPACuZOulwTKtasOymfEZEp1jywydreIXMIqUFBOTsBPMhzbjj15tzVJO6nwYttnQ7ZR8ha8JQ-aGaeM46cNACn-M_GEkPNrt3_fA4KO" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2304" data-original-width="3070" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEga5rbT8NsFSSr4MPqLlU7jCJ_SaBy5QOXRF2-aJ1zDylWXIUzKA1WlAUbP0CjuSZFE-TcG9-Hxm-Yl1niWcrYMIPACuZOulwTKtasOymfEZEp1jywydreIXMIqUFBOTsBPMhzbjj15tzVJO6nwYttnQ7ZR8ha8JQ-aGaeM46cNACn-M_GEkPNrt3_fA4KO=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Greater Scaup male</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p><b>Common Goldeneye</b> </p><p>Named for pale gold-colored eyes that stand out strikingly against the male's dark green head as well as the female's light brown head, Common Goldeneyes certainly are beautiful ducks. (It's unfortunate that I don't have a better photograph of one!) Like other diving ducks, goldeneyes prefer larger bodies of water and are commonly seen on rivers as well. Common Goldeneyes breed in the boreal forests of Canada and Alaska, where they nest in tree cavities. Very rarely a <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2018/01/common-barrows-goldeneyes.html" target="_blank">Barrow's Goldeneye</a> will turn up in the Central Valley, mixed in with a flock of Common Goldeneyes, but they are more likely to be seen around the San Francisco Bay and, interestingly, along the American River in Sacramento.<br /></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjojIcpa2Vi_ZXc4d2aiOj6HM_IqaUExcfj8GMqMGc_MkSpl96KqiJb7NoaZ7A1lQ1UIfpasYHsPyRiYNxFok9hhzmylADXaQBaKxzE8iZ1KTeYNNAlEXwKtHYmQte-m6owvOHp0BLrMMQQhweypGaBci5lE9k2ipWP-ncUX2cd_KVoJ09mgvBHirH5kwfj" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1992" data-original-width="2940" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjojIcpa2Vi_ZXc4d2aiOj6HM_IqaUExcfj8GMqMGc_MkSpl96KqiJb7NoaZ7A1lQ1UIfpasYHsPyRiYNxFok9hhzmylADXaQBaKxzE8iZ1KTeYNNAlEXwKtHYmQte-m6owvOHp0BLrMMQQhweypGaBci5lE9k2ipWP-ncUX2cd_KVoJ09mgvBHirH5kwfj=w640-h434" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Common Goldeneye male (center) and female (behind the male) with a flock of mostly female Bufflehead</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p><b>Bufflehead</b></p><p>Definitely a contender for our cutest species of duck, the diminutive Bufflehead is also North America's smallest duck. This quintessentially rubber ducky-shaped duck is an active diver, frequently disappearing completely under the surface of the water only to reappear some distance away. Often, entire flocks dive together! Males are striking black and white from a distance, but in good light, their heads show brilliant green and purple iridescence. Females (pictured above) are less dramatically colored but no less adorable. Bufflehead nest in tree cavities made by woodpeckers in the boreal forests of Alaska and Canada, and some also breed in suitable habitat in the Rocky Mountains, Cascades and northern Sierra Nevada.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhnu9smgj_KxGBBcs4X3l1nmhGffv-Q_35ipldTv9DQVIGibV0Nd7RqyHshfFx-TbGohynuxP4PawMXQ8eIoQbyW70A_Uyl_CtV3JewJOvZZgxLy4s9D3l9XNqaUOvah0TC5FawUImigWA_EwE4qFWhUPQC_nA_NqTyE5E6WNffrec0v_IWYLI8wCyRl2I4" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2304" data-original-width="3070" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhnu9smgj_KxGBBcs4X3l1nmhGffv-Q_35ipldTv9DQVIGibV0Nd7RqyHshfFx-TbGohynuxP4PawMXQ8eIoQbyW70A_Uyl_CtV3JewJOvZZgxLy4s9D3l9XNqaUOvah0TC5FawUImigWA_EwE4qFWhUPQC_nA_NqTyE5E6WNffrec0v_IWYLI8wCyRl2I4=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Male Bufflehead</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p><b>Hooded Merganser</b></p><p>Two species of mergansers (fish-eating ducks with unusually thin, serrated bills) are regularly seen in the Central Valley, and the Hooded Merganser is the less-common of the two. In the summer, they nest in tree cavities near wooded ponds and streams in the northwestern and eastern U.S., and in the winter they seem to favor similar partially wooded habitat. (In my experience, they are usually both secretive and flighty.) The keys to identifying these nifty little ducks are their thin bill and extravagant crest, which can be raised and lowered in both sexes to dramatically alter the silhouette of the bird.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiYT1wRf19ldYWY03rJpvbacIEWbkmdjLcIPD8M8riQW1vUKY0x6y2O6hLkYlPefjPgCtFARjr8EcJHSxGTrgw9iySbe892oiS4hTUdcuDfZ-kFxS2c6M0_40uqe4p_Mtv-HZ91kGpXbV_tiJIK1ip2I7pUXOZEI1yw_I5nKkqn2zl3QkRpGnOvHBAqD4HB" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2304" data-original-width="3070" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiYT1wRf19ldYWY03rJpvbacIEWbkmdjLcIPD8M8riQW1vUKY0x6y2O6hLkYlPefjPgCtFARjr8EcJHSxGTrgw9iySbe892oiS4hTUdcuDfZ-kFxS2c6M0_40uqe4p_Mtv-HZ91kGpXbV_tiJIK1ip2I7pUXOZEI1yw_I5nKkqn2zl3QkRpGnOvHBAqD4HB=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Creeping up on distant Hooded Merganser male (left) and females (right)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p><b>Common Merganser</b></p><p>Slightly more common in winter than the Hooded Merganser, Common Mergansers favor streams and larger bodies of water. In the summer, they nest in tree cavities along wooded lakes and rivers in northern forests. Look for the male's dazzling forest-green head and red bill; <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2017/01/common-mergansers.html" target="_blank">females</a> have a cinnamon-colored head with a shaggy crest and prominent white chin patch. Watch as hunting mergansers put their heads underwater to look for fish below the surface, like a kid playing with a new pair of goggles in the pool!</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgwnlT2WPDjaRfnwO0q2y2BPvCIVPeAuyM52fjRLZt5kgoxnSu5Jv3WKxLiyM37VYEXo8fBFie87dnax2YHAyyNB_x5y2TjvvV6lgW42FELb6rAx3hKsm-kLlHmY6eO2q7gdHs0z2YzLkjrPlZ40fEbxtSUf7CKJSt5bM4H2FDvN6kQJU4bie-DKuvwUMNP" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2435" data-original-width="3648" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgwnlT2WPDjaRfnwO0q2y2BPvCIVPeAuyM52fjRLZt5kgoxnSu5Jv3WKxLiyM37VYEXo8fBFie87dnax2YHAyyNB_x5y2TjvvV6lgW42FELb6rAx3hKsm-kLlHmY6eO2q7gdHs0z2YzLkjrPlZ40fEbxtSUf7CKJSt5bM4H2FDvN6kQJU4bie-DKuvwUMNP=w640-h428" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Male Common Merganser</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEilVRW0SPnAkj0Nxn0vqscjPqkmB_Ob2l_yh0klzUbF59x0qZzkf_MB4l0a1eJbSiprHt1MYaH8mWat4WZlkEBizkrL0-riSDnynDIQQJUhiKk1HZ6IMIhSi_aeYE8nOr0nx4YuHa0LEjzc5Oen1SV0pZVHmur9FGp7zH84lky4pj8vUpS8RcOJYCtx4HXp" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2976" data-original-width="4409" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEilVRW0SPnAkj0Nxn0vqscjPqkmB_Ob2l_yh0klzUbF59x0qZzkf_MB4l0a1eJbSiprHt1MYaH8mWat4WZlkEBizkrL0-riSDnynDIQQJUhiKk1HZ6IMIhSi_aeYE8nOr0nx4YuHa0LEjzc5Oen1SV0pZVHmur9FGp7zH84lky4pj8vUpS8RcOJYCtx4HXp=w640-h432" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Female Common Merganser</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p><b>Ruddy Duck</b></p><p>The small yet stocky Ruddy Duck is another classically cute rubber ducky-shaped duck. In winter, they are somewhat drab in color, though the white cheek patch of the male is a good field mark to look for. Come spring, male Ruddies transform into gorgeous rufous-red ducks with black heads and incredible oversized sky-blue bills. As our only "stiff tailed" duck, Ruddy Ducks have a distinct silhouette: their somewhat long, fan-shaped tails are held stiffly upright, or straight out in the water. <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2018/03/ruddy-ducks-at-merced-nwr.html" target="_blank">Check out this article for more on Ruddy Ducks</a>.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhCEA_1tPtKkBELI2RQAbJXK-EH4M3SW8Ctq7ELcuP0-wY0mSxQVKw0U_H5vKF7ugtBhw3kwn6wRQgNz-XHhQIBhNpePsMtXQRfe6NB8fy-f122yMzvWVBjmGHyVIr7c8sOUq-N_iUmSeOSdlkqeNOBspChxyAW4p3JP1XUNmAebd4Uhef8ufQK9xxm-mas" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4498" height="430" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhCEA_1tPtKkBELI2RQAbJXK-EH4M3SW8Ctq7ELcuP0-wY0mSxQVKw0U_H5vKF7ugtBhw3kwn6wRQgNz-XHhQIBhNpePsMtXQRfe6NB8fy-f122yMzvWVBjmGHyVIr7c8sOUq-N_iUmSeOSdlkqeNOBspChxyAW4p3JP1XUNmAebd4Uhef8ufQK9xxm-mas=w640-h430" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Winter (nonbreeding) male Ruddy Ducks, just beginning to develop their amazing bright blue bills for spring</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjcoaE9iQYF69FoYEgQJ1tMPzL7EOT_runLK_nMKiebojeOQo0bRXQDMSfrmhJ96MveMoyp9KeZ_irSsdZCufRiVK3nt-ZHYjV1RvIluSD-lGP8OUpYKwpM2lfb_TKOGn8Xk4qHi0JpDP75_jlHa3CcjKkPVfjei8ASoEv3hUg6bKW3PvSho2pPGXeA6Uz_" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1850" data-original-width="2438" height="486" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjcoaE9iQYF69FoYEgQJ1tMPzL7EOT_runLK_nMKiebojeOQo0bRXQDMSfrmhJ96MveMoyp9KeZ_irSsdZCufRiVK3nt-ZHYjV1RvIluSD-lGP8OUpYKwpM2lfb_TKOGn8Xk4qHi0JpDP75_jlHa3CcjKkPVfjei8ASoEv3hUg6bKW3PvSho2pPGXeA6Uz_=w640-h486" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Male Ruddy Duck, looking his best in spring</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>If this wasn't enough about California's dazzling array of ducks for you, <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2023/12/the-weird-and-wonderful-world-of-sea.html" target="_blank">be sure to take a look at this article on the highly specialized group of ducks known as the sea ducks</a>!</div>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-46367994212894020222024-02-17T13:54:00.000-08:002024-02-17T14:01:44.851-08:00The Case of the Missing Rough-legged Hawks<p>Most of the time, I am prompted to write about birds and other wildlife that I have encountered recently while out and about exploring. Today, I am writing about a bird precisely because I <i>haven't</i> seen it recently, or at all this entire 2023-24 fall-winter season.</p><p>Rough-legged Hawks are special birds in California's Great Central Valley, and certainly one of my favorite raptors. For one, they are simply gorgeous hawks. But they're more than a pretty face: They are incredible migrants and amazingly hardy, nesting on cliffs and rocky outcroppings in remote tundra, boreal forest and alpine regions of the Arctic, where they spend the short summer breeding season feeding on lemmings and voles. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhBXC0ch9QZbOhfteoHaXw6a1DwS7rTqHAoYezgZydd7MxFAKm3WM32fupiBDzS0MJMqC5v0XZBWvn9DMsJcvgBMaM_g7-tv2jqt2vCuPZr94X-hRFKPXGrWOe4Zu7yydSi89-7e9ZJ1PqqPjN138i5c60w_EVHxxB6Tx_0W1asbXrhUWKNTkzmYUUSzQRH" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2473" data-original-width="3440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhBXC0ch9QZbOhfteoHaXw6a1DwS7rTqHAoYezgZydd7MxFAKm3WM32fupiBDzS0MJMqC5v0XZBWvn9DMsJcvgBMaM_g7-tv2jqt2vCuPZr94X-hRFKPXGrWOe4Zu7yydSi89-7e9ZJ1PqqPjN138i5c60w_EVHxxB6Tx_0W1asbXrhUWKNTkzmYUUSzQRH=s16000" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><p></p><p>But every winter, the world's entire breeding population of Rough-legged Hawks leaves the Arctic behind to migrate south, where they spend the colder months feeding on the rodents of open habitats across much of the U.S., including prairies, fields, shrublands and semi-desert regions. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiiHYiEM9d-fbD5nEyBY7REO2R48eGYpFco-9Llj5E99lpD7ONoK37mNZKjt2qU2_yVQnlIEs5CwO_ZlkcJhwAF5EInzfx1RPIpitOTpSfiNWyb3WN1ZiCKQHO50St7uxIn9G_UNsMSWakwAX-Vnw3-lm5sdx9meESPWYkMqUQWb_b43Ua7PQtW58Rj2o4a" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1543" data-original-width="1280" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiiHYiEM9d-fbD5nEyBY7REO2R48eGYpFco-9Llj5E99lpD7ONoK37mNZKjt2qU2_yVQnlIEs5CwO_ZlkcJhwAF5EInzfx1RPIpitOTpSfiNWyb3WN1ZiCKQHO50St7uxIn9G_UNsMSWakwAX-Vnw3-lm5sdx9meESPWYkMqUQWb_b43Ua7PQtW58Rj2o4a=w531-h640" width="531" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rough-legged Hawk range in North America<br /><a href="https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Rough-legged_Hawk/maps-range" target="_blank">allaboutbirds.org</a><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>And every winter, these birds bring a bit of Arctic mystique with them to their wintering grounds on the open grasslands along the eastern edge of the San Joaquin Valley. </p><p>Or at least I <i>thought</i> it was every winter.</p><p>For the past four years, I've been able to find these incredible birds reliably in foothill grasslands not too far from my home, and have seen as many as three individuals wintering at one time in one specific valley. The little valley they prefer is dotted with three or four widely spaced blue oaks and fringed with a smattering of the little rocky outcroppings Rough-leggeds love. The hawks could be found almost without fail perched on outcroppings of rock or atop the oaks, surveying the meandering creek and valley below for rodent prey. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgeOL0lRmSr-_925HxiYQU9MZAjFqyCjthzdQI_cxXuzS-oTfy3OLZHGONrZ04OkO6jZm0k5iCgIHJIgvJgfQgfD2NaWw2Cxf4wTfdH3sF2xh2P_bby2RMGYTgELmC4ZAN2HO51nlrhTeV-_5Gh2x9vvxq_mIpXT71edcBBKOzGbY-7oct0497zPiXNEOoS" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgeOL0lRmSr-_925HxiYQU9MZAjFqyCjthzdQI_cxXuzS-oTfy3OLZHGONrZ04OkO6jZm0k5iCgIHJIgvJgfQgfD2NaWw2Cxf4wTfdH3sF2xh2P_bby2RMGYTgELmC4ZAN2HO51nlrhTeV-_5Gh2x9vvxq_mIpXT71edcBBKOzGbY-7oct0497zPiXNEOoS=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p>This past November, I went out looking for "my" Rough-legged Hawks in their usual spot with no luck. November is the month when they routinely show up here, but maybe, I thought, this year they were late. I tried again in December: Still no hawks. By the time I got out to the spot again in late January and found it sadly devoid of my favorite hawks, I was truly puzzled. </p><p></p><blockquote>Where are the Rough-legged Hawks this winter? </blockquote><p></p><p>Clearly, they had abandoned their favorite little patch of wintering habitat, and I began to muse over some possible explanations.</p><p>1. They could have found another more favorable patch of habitat, still in the area, perhaps, but behind the hills and out of sight of my binoculars. The literature indicates that some overwintering Rough-legged Hawks continue to move around throughout the winter, so that could be the case. (But it was strange that I hadn't seen any soaring or flying over either, and in previous years these particular birds have seemed incredibly sedentary during the winter. They just didn't seem to be in the area at all.) </p><p>2. Birds can show amazing site fidelity, the same individual bird returning year after year to precisely the same patch of habitat. Maybe the birds of this little valley had died over the breeding season (or during their long migration) and new individuals had yet to find this patch of habitat. (But that also didn't seem right, since it seemed unlikely that two or three birds would all go missing in the same year. I would have expected at least one to turn up somewhere nearby.)</p><p>3. Maybe it's just a "bad year" for Rough-legged Hawks. (Is that even a thing?) </p><p></p><blockquote>This theory prompted another question: Have Rough-legged Hawks been seen <i>anywhere</i> in Central California during the winter of 2023-24?</blockquote><p></p><p>Thanks to the incredible resource that is <a href="https://ebird.org/home" target="_blank">eBird</a>, that question at least could be answered easily! A quick search of Rough-legged Hawk reports in the area showed that there have been very few sightings this winter in Central California, and none at all as far south as the San Joaquin Valley. (Okay, good: It's not just me!)</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhdowGKGgQeYg_rm4hoz8z8pioW1WL--Gf_KlJypGCd1qh1dL6m6m7TGA6pgLDzAU2_LxSSvA6TH1HvebC1_84L78UYlHMEdc_ExJn0blZoCpKVt619s9Hw4e__HRBj7Po_jIWtvLfZ066qhkYXwuUfzbhwtWE_nJEbQsYPTLbnyrUabai822Z00CV32vRB" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="537" data-original-width="683" height="504" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhdowGKGgQeYg_rm4hoz8z8pioW1WL--Gf_KlJypGCd1qh1dL6m6m7TGA6pgLDzAU2_LxSSvA6TH1HvebC1_84L78UYlHMEdc_ExJn0blZoCpKVt619s9Hw4e__HRBj7Po_jIWtvLfZ066qhkYXwuUfzbhwtWE_nJEbQsYPTLbnyrUabai822Z00CV32vRB=w640-h504" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">eBird map showing Rough-legged Hawk reports from this year, the winter of 2023-2024 (above) and last year, the winter of 2022-2023 (below). <br />Each pin represents a "hotspot" where at least one Rough-legged Hawk has been reported. (Red pins are reports from within the last month.) Note the lack of pins in and around the San Joaquin Valley (south of Sacramento) in the first map, compared with the number of pins in the same region on the second map. These show spots where Rough-legged Hawks were seen last winter, and where they are absent this winter.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZLh77sBm9Zosl3MjTln-CWJ7dfQS3McP8A52zu_feox-EpzxBx51UaW6vlwt-o3F_BYhnhgHYX8hFXWm0dFXxltcxbUDHN8mjjKccnT8d82OuBT9W8DsIrRRLjgL-QSFeXq4f55zjVQmHKdTAYfufrw5Z3VsxBrK8Fh1WUzqSbapVAvgBBMaHDbzcqLlU" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="396" data-original-width="987" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZLh77sBm9Zosl3MjTln-CWJ7dfQS3McP8A52zu_feox-EpzxBx51UaW6vlwt-o3F_BYhnhgHYX8hFXWm0dFXxltcxbUDHN8mjjKccnT8d82OuBT9W8DsIrRRLjgL-QSFeXq4f55zjVQmHKdTAYfufrw5Z3VsxBrK8Fh1WUzqSbapVAvgBBMaHDbzcqLlU=w640-h256" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For comparison: This map shows all eBird records of Rough-legged Hawks in the region over the last century. Note the density of sightings in a northwest-southeast trending strip along the eastern edge of the San Joaquin Valley; this strip corresponds with the foothill grasslands region, where I most often see Rough-legged Hawks.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>So that answered that question. There are essentially no Rough-legged Hawks in the San Joaquin Valley and surrounding foothills this winter. But why not?</p><p>Time to do a little more research.</p><p><a href="https://www.audubon.org/field-guide/bird/rough-legged-hawk" target="_blank">Audubon</a> notes that "numbers [of Rough-legged Hawks] appearing south of Canada are quite <b>variable</b> from one winter to the next." </p><p><a href="https://hawkwatch.org/raptor-id/raptor-id-fact-sheets/rough-legged-hawk/#:~:text=Like%20other%20Arctic%20predators%2C%20Rough,winter%2C%20especially%20in%20the%20East." target="_blank">HawkWatch International</a> states that "during years of <b>prey abundance</b>, high numbers [of Rough-legged Hawks] are noted at subsequent fall and spring hawk watches," indicating that a larger number of individuals make the journey south to winter in the States after summers with greater prey availability and, presumably, greater breeding success. Conversely, summers of low prey abundance result in lower breeding success and fewer migrating and overwintering hawks.</p><p><a href="https://birdsoftheworld.org/bow/species/rolhaw/cur/movement" target="_blank">Cornell's Birds of the World</a> indicates that "The number of breeding pairs and their <b>reproductive performance fluctuate considerably with changes in prey abundance</b>... Numbers [of Rough-legged Hawks] seen on migration varies considerably among years... Annual variation in numbers [is] attributed to <b>species' reliance on cyclic lemming and vole populations for prey</b>."</p><p>Simply put, it seems certain that the number of Rough-legged Hawks varies widely from year to year, and this fluctuation is based on prey availability.</p><p>So it could be that the population of Rough-legged Hawks that winters in Central California had a poor summer in terms of prey availability: a bad lemming year. </p><p>Or could it be that they found a food source farther north and didn't need to come so far south? How far south in California have Rough-legged Hawks come this winter anyway?</p><p>Back to eBird to find out.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiKqXgWTLirbNt45MKJBvzIIZJMdYo0O6LV_KR9Om_WBI48dPWLN-t3mMuiUy3HZkeoL6zbY11rjwyqp-pZlYWh38j8EBzA9Mfw-AFNWVw7ZAvCDG43VXdPz0GeD159NmJMxBJJoT_LCnBqU5k0OD_-CRU1Z97IUI14uI4iyjEEsFiena-ga3JwcKVBKnpG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="510" data-original-width="621" height="526" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiKqXgWTLirbNt45MKJBvzIIZJMdYo0O6LV_KR9Om_WBI48dPWLN-t3mMuiUy3HZkeoL6zbY11rjwyqp-pZlYWh38j8EBzA9Mfw-AFNWVw7ZAvCDG43VXdPz0GeD159NmJMxBJJoT_LCnBqU5k0OD_-CRU1Z97IUI14uI4iyjEEsFiena-ga3JwcKVBKnpG=w640-h526" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These maps of Rough-legged Hawk reports in northern California show fewer sighting in the winter of 2023-24 (above) than the previous year (below), but the difference is not as striking as it is farther south.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>It doesn't seem to be the case that the Rough-legged Hawks all decided to stop farther north this year. There just seems to be fewer individual birds in California overall this winter. And it sounds like that might have something to do with populations of Arctic lemmings and voles.</p><p>Googling "How was last summer's Arctic lemming population?," "Current Arctic lemming population," and "Lemming population summer 2023" didn't turn up too many promising results, however.</p><p>Maybe, from my limited perspective, its best to let the birds tell me something about the lemmings. Fewer birds this winter must mean fewer lemmings last summer. Snowy Owls, another even more iconic Arctic breeding bird, are also well known for experiencing population fluctuations that are linked to the abundance of their prey, with also consists largely of lemmings.</p><p><a href="https://birdsoftheworld.org/bow/species/rolhaw/cur/movement" target="_blank">Cornell's Birds of the World</a> continues to note that "peak flights [of Rough-legged Hawks] in Ontario coincided with peaks in Snowy Owl numbers, another arctic-nesting raptor that preys on lemmings and voles, but peaks in populations elsewhere have not correlated with Snowy Owl incursions. This is not surprising given that fluctuations in lemming and vole numbers are often asynchronous among species and local populations of the same species. Therefore, source populations sampled on migration may include birds from several areas with varying prey abundance." </p><p>In other words, different populations of Rough-legged Hawks may experience very different rates of breeding success across the wide range of this species, based on the fluctuations of local prey populations.</p><p></p><blockquote>I would dearly love to know exactly where in the Arctic "my" Rough-legged Hawks breed, and if it is true that their local lemming population was lower last summer. </blockquote><p></p><p>And another question: Do all of the Rough-legged Hawks that overwinter in California migrate from the same general region in the Arctic? If so, was the lemming population in that entire region poor last summer? </p><p>Lemming populations, which are well-known to fluctuate widely in cycles of boom and bust years, are probably far more complex than we know, and have causes and effects that are still beyond our understanding. But it seems clear that there is a correlation between prey availability during the breeding season and numbers of Rough-legged Hawks that migrate south to overwinter in the Lower 48. </p><p>And the other thing that is clear is... more research is still needed on this topic!</p><p>For now, I still have more questions than answers. But I would love to learn more! </p><p>All I can say for certain is that it really does appear to be a "bad year" for Rough-legged Hawks in central California. They just aren't around this winter, and the grasslands are certainly missing something without them. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjSp7fre4syDzhSjlNb9o8hfQmUn7D0JMsbStrv_fLaUY9O3hBSb9bZSuGrXoPcihqdYN27ZRb1E56dEUdc2r70mAqJQY3IhjnRONRkkkNzqDjoOPdlwZXkG9I1XsZ1uchZ2yed8F36x_r7rnfDSwYbYuYd-pvURg8gdusJrUfPDUZZXY7sdVvChGZ3IB3J" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1506" data-original-width="2019" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjSp7fre4syDzhSjlNb9o8hfQmUn7D0JMsbStrv_fLaUY9O3hBSb9bZSuGrXoPcihqdYN27ZRb1E56dEUdc2r70mAqJQY3IhjnRONRkkkNzqDjoOPdlwZXkG9I1XsZ1uchZ2yed8F36x_r7rnfDSwYbYuYd-pvURg8gdusJrUfPDUZZXY7sdVvChGZ3IB3J=w640-h478" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><b>If you live near overwintering populations of Rough-legged Hawks, I would love to know: How are they this year? Do the numbers seem high, low or average? </b></p><p><b>Please share in the comments below!</b></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-66775385866125995352024-02-04T11:49:00.000-08:002024-02-04T11:54:39.748-08:00Birding in Adverse Weather Conditions: Wind and Rain<p>Though I often extol the virtues and merits of <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2019/01/seasons-in-valley-winter-at-san-joaquin.html" target="_blank">winter in the Central Valley</a>, especially when it comes to birding, the whole truth is that we experience "bad" weather also, just like anywhere else. But even when the winter weather rolls in, the birds are still out there! And sometimes, despite our best planning efforts, a birding day happens to coincide with crummy weather. </p><p>In that case, what's a birder to do? Usually, we go birding anyway! </p><p>Birders far more intrepid than I regularly brave the ice and snow of northern winters to see their favorite birds, so perhaps you should look to them for real tips on winter birding! For those of us in the valleys of California, the worst weather we see - wind and rain - is really comparatively mild. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEietXP7AhSUfJFHdB1OCYS3OD9HZKK6BKAJz--d0P4IZHlXUvZUiFSuVpsVH2NX_zKvJCup9ONxvMRPOPdNPgyWVaxkhIOaTpnIK8ZlpN4X0b3NIQNFW7xItV_Fe_h4S3RYaArCU94u-Hqz2dVSg237F00Zo7nO8is_5cxaMHpzTmXdnbFL6UDeVhnrrWNe" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2434" data-original-width="3648" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEietXP7AhSUfJFHdB1OCYS3OD9HZKK6BKAJz--d0P4IZHlXUvZUiFSuVpsVH2NX_zKvJCup9ONxvMRPOPdNPgyWVaxkhIOaTpnIK8ZlpN4X0b3NIQNFW7xItV_Fe_h4S3RYaArCU94u-Hqz2dVSg237F00Zo7nO8is_5cxaMHpzTmXdnbFL6UDeVhnrrWNe=w640-h428" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Birding on an extremely windy day!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p>I don't know of anyone who actually <i>likes</i> birding in the rain. But I would argue that birding in the <i>wind</i> is just as aggravating as trying to bird in the rain! </p><p>Wind can be utterly infuriating to bird in for a long list of reasons. </p><p>1. The first is that birds are simply not as active during very windy weather, particularly small songbirds. It requires extra energy to fly in the wind, so most smaller birds conserve energy by hunkering down in a sheltered spot. Insects, which many small birds feed on, also don't fly much when it's windy.</p><p>2. When scanning the habitat for birds, a birder's brain is trained to pick up on movement. But when wind is moving <i>everything</i> in the environment, from leaves and branches to dust and clouds, honing in on the movement of birds is really challenging.</p><p>3. Birders also find many birds by sound, but wind can be surprisingly loud, especially as its moving through trees. The sound of wind obscures most of the bird sounds we might otherwise pick up on.</p><p>4. Wind makes it difficult to hold optics still. From binoculars and spotting scopes to cameras, getting a clear, stable image when buffeted by the wind is a major challenge.</p><p>5. Birds look different in windy conditions. Odd as this may sound, it's true. The shape of birds, perched and in flight, can change drastically in the wind. An otherwise sleek bird may looked round and fluffed when perched in a cold wind, and a crestless bird can look deceptively crested when its feathers are ruffled from behind by the wind. Even more confusing are birds in flight. Riding a strong tailwind on bent wings, a buteo or raven can flash by, giving a confusingly falcon-like impression. And birds that typically don't kite or hover, like Bald Eagles, may face into a head wind and hang in the air over one spot for long periods of time.</p><p>6. A personal problem, perhaps, but my eyes don't like the wind; they tend to tear up, blurring my vision and making it difficult to see.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgwDel8ZeZavs-vMaH8UwwKpKmjaIGFa5jaHRCbGUPiRHJ5sypV3LiOwTKl1UmBlk_8Ii2slSniWMeXLUgsqi7VeI_H01kOB_08q9S9tuC6RP2Wh8g7cGhvGETgQTZggFOqvGZcWOEJenZ8O1j5HSBMi8augUrVgkeNFRbdhpboQOVI5yNRH4eC4nnfNJNz" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1749" data-original-width="2845" height="394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgwDel8ZeZavs-vMaH8UwwKpKmjaIGFa5jaHRCbGUPiRHJ5sypV3LiOwTKl1UmBlk_8Ii2slSniWMeXLUgsqi7VeI_H01kOB_08q9S9tuC6RP2Wh8g7cGhvGETgQTZggFOqvGZcWOEJenZ8O1j5HSBMi8augUrVgkeNFRbdhpboQOVI5yNRH4eC4nnfNJNz=w640-h394" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A pair of Common Ravens, gamboling on the wind.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>Still, there are ways to make the most of birding in windy conditions:</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Find a sheltered spot. Try staying on the leeward side of a hill, pile of boulders, stand of trees, building or even a car. Anything that blocks a little wind helps. Look for an area that is lower in elevation, even by a few feet; a small hollow or gully can offer protection from the wind, and the birds know this! You might find some songbirds hunkered down in some such sheltered spot.</li><li>Tailor the type of birding you choose to do. Windy days can be great at certain <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2021/11/trying-my-hand-well-eyes-at-seabirding.html" target="_blank">sea watch</a> and hawk watch spots. I've been at Point Pinos when a crazy-strong northwestern wind blew some great seabirds, like jaegers and shearwaters, close to shore. You'll have a better chance of seeing larger birds on windy days anyway, and watching large raptors ride on the wind and hang in the air can be particularly fun.</li><li>Keep the wind at your back as much as possible! </li></ul><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgkCsAfEQZNyTUJDmyD4vbl1Tm_LSnDYt44HDfNYFiUzMac67gTA21rf2l0BFrebybzZGKptUo19KC6vfN9NN2BMWRip1riEKsIl6VK-RyOKWsW540lKSLqDFDZetyi7g_ZG2RD1nQWEp849G9naieC9CAE-2_NJFZmxU6VLqHh3_AdVLDaPVy5bMxEQHY-" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1687" data-original-width="2517" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgkCsAfEQZNyTUJDmyD4vbl1Tm_LSnDYt44HDfNYFiUzMac67gTA21rf2l0BFrebybzZGKptUo19KC6vfN9NN2BMWRip1riEKsIl6VK-RyOKWsW540lKSLqDFDZetyi7g_ZG2RD1nQWEp849G9naieC9CAE-2_NJFZmxU6VLqHh3_AdVLDaPVy5bMxEQHY-=w640-h428" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the ground, Horned Larks are less affected by strong winds. But this one is still enduring some slight feather-ruffling.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div>Of course, rain presents its own set of challenges to birding as well.</div><div><br /></div><div>1. As in windy conditions, many birds seek shelter during periods of heavy rain and simply aren't as visible. Small birds, like songbirds, are usually the least visible.</div><div><br /></div><div>2. Anything more than the lightest rain reduces visibility considerably, making it difficult to see birds well from any great distance. And the dark, cloudy conditions that come with rain make discerning the colors of birds' feathers difficult, if not impossible.</div><div><br /></div><div>3. Rain is hard on optics. Most good binoculars and spotting scopes are waterproof and can stand some rain, but continually wiping raindrops off the lenses is the real challenge! And nobody wants to get their nice camera wet.</div><div><br /></div><div>4. You get wet. There's no way around it. You can't hold an umbrella and bird very effectively at the same time. I've tried. </div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhfCyB3h_F37GM74fySYPWppgXHtysEjzTMi_NuVgG2weMqh1n2HuVwh7Uw7abVrwNhaI1ACjveRfi5xEpulXBA6WqEjhBCvMRNJ4P9ROQnAorp1_9kffyTfcXX_zmr9mWCRVSACgwOblLh7QGkZ2los1BuV2kct3-6ZCRpWS4LS4J5DQfRHsTjZ7WoKxhi=w640-h480" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This backyard Mourning Dove didn't seem to mind getting wet, and even appeared to enjoy the rain!</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhfCyB3h_F37GM74fySYPWppgXHtysEjzTMi_NuVgG2weMqh1n2HuVwh7Uw7abVrwNhaI1ACjveRfi5xEpulXBA6WqEjhBCvMRNJ4P9ROQnAorp1_9kffyTfcXX_zmr9mWCRVSACgwOblLh7QGkZ2los1BuV2kct3-6ZCRpWS4LS4J5DQfRHsTjZ7WoKxhi" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div></div></div><div><br /></div><div>If a little rain threatens your plans for a day of birding, once again, there are ways to make the most of it!</div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Like on windy days, if you can tailor the type of birding you do to the weather, do so. On rainy days, try watching waterfowl, shorebirds and wading birds from your car, a bird blind, or even a covered patio area. These birds love water and typically stay in the open even during the rain. Just make sure, if possible, to position your car so the rain won't come in through your open window! (Yes, one window will need to be open for best visibility.)</li><li>Wait for a break in the rain. I've noticed that once the rain stops and the sun breaks through, the birds all come out en masse and the place absolutely bursts into life with birds singing and flitting all around! So if you can, wait it out!</li><li>Wear proper rain gear. A good hooded raincoat, water repellent pants and waterproof boots, all specifically designed for outdoor wear, will do wonders for improving your experience birding in the rain!</li><li><a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2023/01/adventures-in-window-birding.html" target="_blank">Watch bird feeders from indoors</a>. When a retreat indoors becomes necessary, don't despair: I've found that my bird feeding stations are the busiest during wet weather! And pay special attention to hummingbird feeders: these little tropical gems <i>love</i> a nice shower!</li></ul><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='464' height='385' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxJLNgWSXY_7INdF23aVaLHfxBla5ggmwAoYkRzwp6LWeq2-fiJvKLFUp9kIsZwpaxTjZmNoQ6-4NnSMEJ0Ow' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div><div><br /></div><div>When the weather is well and truly awful - high winds, heavy rains, misery all around - and we're forced to throw in the towel, there are plenty of indoor activities for the borderline obsessive birder as well. </div><div><br /></div><div>Consider these alternatives to actual birding:</div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><b>Read a book on birds or birding.</b> Recent favorites include David Sibley's <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/en/book/show/50778832" target="_blank">What It's Like To Be A Bird</a>, Kenn Kaufman's <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/en/book/show/543888" target="_blank">Kingbird Highway</a>, and Noah Strycker's <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/en/book/show/33413887" target="_blank">Birding Without Borders</a>.</li><li><b>Watch a documentary, show, or movie about birds.</b> There are too many bird documentaries out there to count; consider starting with anything by David Attenborough, or an episode of Nature. We recently enjoyed the six-episode show <a href="https://www.natgeotv.com/za/shows/nationalgeographicwild/extraordinary-birder-with-christian-cooper-season-1" target="_blank">Extraordinary Birder</a>, and the movie <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1053810/" target="_blank">The Big Year</a> is a perennial favorite!</li><li><b>Study a field guide.</b> Thumb through an <a href="https://www.sibleyguides.com/product/the-sibley-guide-to-birds-2/" target="_blank">old favorite</a>, or knuckle down and get to grips with a troublesome group, like <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/en/book/show/39964412" target="_blank">gulls</a> or <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/8068915-the-shorebird-guide?from_search=true&from_srp=true&qid=Dk4mqF1jqC&rank=2" target="_blank">shorebirds</a>.</li><li><b>Brush up on bird songs</b>. The Merlin app and Xeno Canto are great free resources for listening to bird songs, and I have benefited greatly from using <a href="https://www.larkwire.com/web" target="_blank">Larkwire</a>.</li><li><b>Edit your backlog of bird photos. </b> You know you have one.</li><li><b>Play a bird game</b>, like <a href="https://stonemaiergames.com/games/wingspan/" target="_blank">Wingspan</a>, or <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Sibley-Birders-Trivia-Questions-Knowledge/dp/0593578120/ref=asc_df_0593578120/?tag=hyprod-20&linkCode=df0&hvadid=598244024349&hvpos=&hvnetw=g&hvrand=13683741341865991019&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvqmt=&hvdev=c&hvdvcmdl=&hvlocint=&hvlocphy=9032298&hvtargid=pla-1878415385960&psc=1&mcid=8f96eb9483a2388c9b619c5131304663&gclid=CjwKCAiA_OetBhAtEiwAPTeQZ1e7qiGZai3FnpM2lYzD5uBHlEfoG5HJkdyWUulMaCSFO8pNR7ZBCRoCiOQQAvD_BwE" target="_blank">Sibley's Birder Trivia</a>! Or, make use of your Christmas gifts: don your new bird socks, pour something hot into your new bird mug, and break open your seventh deck of bird playing cards!</li><li><b>Plan your next birding trip.</b> Dream of lifers in warmer climes, my friend!</li><li><b>Watch other people birding on YouTube!</b> Surprisingly fun. Some of my favorite channels are:</li><ul><li><a href="https://www.youtube.com/@BadgerlandBirding" target="_blank">Baderland Birding</a> (based in Wisconsin)<br /></li><li><a href="https://www.youtube.com/@TheBirdingVoyage" target="_blank">The Birding Voyage</a> (based in California) <br /></li><li><a href="https://www.youtube.com/@Bob_Duchesne" target="_blank">Bob Duchesne</a> (based in Maine)<br /></li><li><a href="https://www.youtube.com/@SparkyStensaas" target="_blank">Sparky Stensaas</a> (based in Minnesota)<br /></li><li><a href="https://www.youtube.com/@brighteyedbirding" target="_blank">Bright-Eyed Birding</a> (based in Utah)<br /></li></ul><li>And, when all else fails, these days we can literally <b>watch birds online</b>, from the warmth and comfort of our own homes. There are innumerable webcams out there around the world, trained on <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x10vL6_47Dw" target="_blank">feeding stations</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ydYDqZQpim8" target="_blank">watering holes</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B4-L2nfGcuE" target="_blank">nests</a> and so much more! A good place to start is <a href="https://www.youtube.com/@BirdWatchingHQ" target="_blank">Bird Watching HQ</a>. The possibilities are endless. </li></ul></div><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjQSfZ7b2Ktnxrcpqd0CEZRK4VLuw8uoqrLKtHjf9JBWXFu9VE2tGIoxmgAL7t6uYU5os_u25NfcX_N65W3Opv6NntBYDmBwc7xE_Re_DToxpZmOvEgQL91vjsGKdT7p4boWGoZrXJkBBtKP-e1unMeJqXtgpceiKzXQFFkUiyuLu6LnnGMy5cjzcIzrocx" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjQSfZ7b2Ktnxrcpqd0CEZRK4VLuw8uoqrLKtHjf9JBWXFu9VE2tGIoxmgAL7t6uYU5os_u25NfcX_N65W3Opv6NntBYDmBwc7xE_Re_DToxpZmOvEgQL91vjsGKdT7p4boWGoZrXJkBBtKP-e1unMeJqXtgpceiKzXQFFkUiyuLu6LnnGMy5cjzcIzrocx=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This backyard Mourning Dove was apparently enjoying her shower immensely. She sat like this, in the rain, for quite some time, quite literally drinking it in!</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>What are your best tips for enjoying birds during wet and windy winter weather? I'd love to know!</div><p></p><p></p>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-73756619485481546062024-01-27T09:13:00.000-08:002024-01-27T09:14:55.566-08:00Blue-gray Gnatcatchers and the Gray Days of Winter<p>Winter may be a cold and dreary time of year across most of North America, when trees are bare and skies are gray, but here in California's Great Central Valley, winter is an excellent time for birding and exploring the woods and wetlands close to home. Because despite the cold, the birds are out there in abundance!</p><p>Last week, while birding at the San Joaquin River National Wildlife Refuge, I was delighted to encounter quite a few Blue-gray Gnatcatchers out and about along the trail. These little dynamos were out in force all day, calling emphatically from the shrubby growth as they flitted actively from twig to twig.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh5RGEcxdEvnB_N25YA55392B5-Fzc1fDH_qE7-0tZA3-z_REyC2ZGa2WW6d8Vo-ya9_2jyelg0OKbIKKCTSt4rCHnPeEyflJ91Zyx0RxlkrAEhIIw99mbkmX42on-KfJxQ8pxIhFkjfJsxdyAMX0qVVBkP7Ltf7JJHS3HnQ39emIgD6JPd1NQCkjGuqVzX" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1139" data-original-width="1838" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh5RGEcxdEvnB_N25YA55392B5-Fzc1fDH_qE7-0tZA3-z_REyC2ZGa2WW6d8Vo-ya9_2jyelg0OKbIKKCTSt4rCHnPeEyflJ91Zyx0RxlkrAEhIIw99mbkmX42on-KfJxQ8pxIhFkjfJsxdyAMX0qVVBkP7Ltf7JJHS3HnQ39emIgD6JPd1NQCkjGuqVzX=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blue-gray Gnatcatcher</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><div>These little birds' small size (they're only about four inches long), active habits and predilection for staying deep in their shrubby habitat can make them difficult to get good looks at, much less photograph! (Just take a look at <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2020/01/glimpses-of-blue-gray-gnatcatcher.html" target="_blank">how unsuccessful I have been in the past</a>!) But this guy was pretty cooperative, moving about and foraging for insects along the edge of the trail with a merry band of other micro-birds, like Ruby-crowned Kinglets and <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2017/11/tiny-twittering-bushtits.html" target="_blank">Bushtits</a>. <div><p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhTkLszGaEI2A6UYjb1B3ubAKjUiCuzOiO9tu30OXWhC1SrJ4D0KTxKgoy90ROcBZmXZztpMc3kTZ6zkzG5FT3n8iGRCWT0JHouyRRFEcMUgt0_sWc1g5EraFZh04YIDaHjHdnY60R2YcZmxDMeIo0Ot9biM-3KIZFJeKFPuwBFPtC12e1GCvPx3kdkMdED" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1570" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhTkLszGaEI2A6UYjb1B3ubAKjUiCuzOiO9tu30OXWhC1SrJ4D0KTxKgoy90ROcBZmXZztpMc3kTZ6zkzG5FT3n8iGRCWT0JHouyRRFEcMUgt0_sWc1g5EraFZh04YIDaHjHdnY60R2YcZmxDMeIo0Ot9biM-3KIZFJeKFPuwBFPtC12e1GCvPx3kdkMdED=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blue-gray Gnatcatcher</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><p>Though fairly widespread in North America, Blue-gray Gnatcatchers are never very common or abundant. Fiercely territorial, the first hint that you've stumbled onto a gnatcatcher's turf is an emphatic but rather soft <a href="https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Blue-gray_Gnatcatcher/sounds" target="_blank">call</a>, a bit like a wheezy mewing. It's easy to miss, but also easy to identify once you know what to listen for, and a sure sign that you're in the right place. Blue-gray Gnatcatchers inhabit a range of wooded habitats, preferably edge habitat in broadleaf or mixed forests with a shrubby understory near water. </p><p>Clearly these little mites find the habitat at San Joaquin River NWR to their liking, because it seemed like no sooner had I left one little wheezing bird behind along the trail, than I ran into another one in the next patch of chaparral! </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjm3kpWnTqAXpf54SlmjHXhinkXlHqGxq22iVfNGa56H0sUil_DnEKMhX9lCyPHNs4x0DL1aaLJ-yG8vDF2CKIGhjEMBPGTkDu9jCY3m3ahX_I80hVqZo_shlCaGoeVFOsobPAJ_2Qk_xPP21Ll0DcPacJqNOvWrxSkqs06_XSBsVkNaSuzNmgLXzet2x6j" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1193" data-original-width="1865" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjm3kpWnTqAXpf54SlmjHXhinkXlHqGxq22iVfNGa56H0sUil_DnEKMhX9lCyPHNs4x0DL1aaLJ-yG8vDF2CKIGhjEMBPGTkDu9jCY3m3ahX_I80hVqZo_shlCaGoeVFOsobPAJ_2Qk_xPP21Ll0DcPacJqNOvWrxSkqs06_XSBsVkNaSuzNmgLXzet2x6j=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blue-gray Gnatcatcher</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>Along with the gnatcatchers were quite a few active <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2016/10/ruby-crowned-kinglet-inquisitive-winter.html" target="_blank">Ruby-crowned Kinglets</a>. This one paused just long enough for me to snap a photo through the bare branches.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi1mob6PhE1xvONusqMMYVFZ8VSI2HYAnmVqvo0ag8VhRorkHVYoCyajtxx0YsOv9FhrgRzNYXl-mDv6DmBgF27iXj-EvxOPIlu_Z8LbDbDOFBY-ULzrAfZ-x3-3Pc2BOmkUAbaQr7nJplPPFcYKQfxPhpN1_XQ0S2dmweHF4o28PVJ-k45MQd3XmQw_OaS" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1543" data-original-width="2256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi1mob6PhE1xvONusqMMYVFZ8VSI2HYAnmVqvo0ag8VhRorkHVYoCyajtxx0YsOv9FhrgRzNYXl-mDv6DmBgF27iXj-EvxOPIlu_Z8LbDbDOFBY-ULzrAfZ-x3-3Pc2BOmkUAbaQr7nJplPPFcYKQfxPhpN1_XQ0S2dmweHF4o28PVJ-k45MQd3XmQw_OaS=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ruby-crowned Kinglet</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>Another species of note that turned up on my bird walk was a brilliantly yellow <a href="https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Wilsons_Warbler" target="_blank">Wilson's Warbler</a>, sporting his jaunty black cap (or bad toupee, if you prefer). This little guy should be down in Mexico for the winter, so seeing him dart across the path and pause on a branch before diving into the brambles was quite the surprise! One more overwintering bird I found that "should" be elsewhere was a <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2021/12/sparrows-sparrows-everywhere.html" target="_blank">Swamp Sparrow</a>, foraging quietly beneath a tangled mass of branches along the edge of the wetland.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiQ0_cFT1PQMaz_x4UrlwWG0PxfgFwM7x7KOq7fODGhCCky7CQMKu1mqq-3SuW5gafu7856w2OB_8daOYPNzx6QslTLFlff1gZ_hbGTQlcPzvS4Y0GBI_hID_r_VUrLhcLsZrYc4QY-gMWTB0JmV8cq7OKLIyeAf22E3TCZY9FeUIt0zqOlUThekSO4iOfd" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1138" data-original-width="1749" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiQ0_cFT1PQMaz_x4UrlwWG0PxfgFwM7x7KOq7fODGhCCky7CQMKu1mqq-3SuW5gafu7856w2OB_8daOYPNzx6QslTLFlff1gZ_hbGTQlcPzvS4Y0GBI_hID_r_VUrLhcLsZrYc4QY-gMWTB0JmV8cq7OKLIyeAf22E3TCZY9FeUIt0zqOlUThekSO4iOfd=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Swamp Sparrow</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>Singing <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2017/01/meet-california-thrasher.html" target="_blank">California Thrashers</a> popped up at regular intervals along the chaparral-lined trail as well. (I spotted three together in one shrub along the edge of the parking lot!) Found only in chaparral habitats of California and Baja, this species had pretty much vanished from the floor of the Central Valley due to habitat loss. As habitat has been restored at San Joaquin River NWR, the thrashers have returned and now <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2021/05/on-cusp-of-summer-nestlings-and.html" target="_blank">breed on the refuge</a>!</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEit9te5iuwOHyoJaqPAbiW6pa4ZAFvpFSiqXJX6YnHtlir3wEPhIpCkA6_4OVOy-xgQtM4iuwmO878LLPHEAv5BWIXlLQvu_1k6AcaTpKcnPVyRSC9LWAQZI0bdpCQRuzPB4doLll-0xUXIJucgNaodLA_w39AQwCaGf41DLIfxCkvUKRTS8W8uiIRFLtSZ" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1488" data-original-width="2380" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEit9te5iuwOHyoJaqPAbiW6pa4ZAFvpFSiqXJX6YnHtlir3wEPhIpCkA6_4OVOy-xgQtM4iuwmO878LLPHEAv5BWIXlLQvu_1k6AcaTpKcnPVyRSC9LWAQZI0bdpCQRuzPB4doLll-0xUXIJucgNaodLA_w39AQwCaGf41DLIfxCkvUKRTS8W8uiIRFLtSZ=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">California Thrasher</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /></div><div>As much as I dislike being cold, winter is easily the best season in the Valley for an abundance and diversity of birds. And, in my opinion, the muted winter scenery is nice too!<p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjv51e3HeQ7A880gHM50ZIf4WIrziINBMjN24bka-iqFfc2WFxOYPrejP3--0JtXJCFB4CvhhrJpDB6iqC-tVnn-IpiXY3ybWWooXrVDnRBLA3i7xvefn-3GoAl5kKojGHQ7MKVgBqykD_TDhzECZC2xSXSoNG8AC-jFUJJqm_kVqlq8a-VU9yjbLyFraiC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2434" data-original-width="3648" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjv51e3HeQ7A880gHM50ZIf4WIrziINBMjN24bka-iqFfc2WFxOYPrejP3--0JtXJCFB4CvhhrJpDB6iqC-tVnn-IpiXY3ybWWooXrVDnRBLA3i7xvefn-3GoAl5kKojGHQ7MKVgBqykD_TDhzECZC2xSXSoNG8AC-jFUJJqm_kVqlq8a-VU9yjbLyFraiC=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">San Joaquin River NWR wetlands</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />For more scenery and birds, read about two more of my winter walks at the San Joaquin River NWR <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2019/01/seasons-in-valley-winter-at-san-joaquin.html" target="_blank">here</a> and <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2020/01/the-unfading-beauty-of-gentle-and-quiet.html" target="_blank">here</a>.<br /><p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh3kd_iU8YvZS4O-SaTvuvozM30Ms0VMbBdDZe0iWprckilCgUWSyKgmkBFYQeMFCsAYfkIQiSmDnuOxrM1FTiuROmnB7OXp59audN9oXVZsGqIj4eE6zUErk9IPooPRIXE3pDDduQraoBsafPguXda1yQ3lsidwGI8Cg5JzQLYP15QlFZBUH7rKfLntmHM" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh3kd_iU8YvZS4O-SaTvuvozM30Ms0VMbBdDZe0iWprckilCgUWSyKgmkBFYQeMFCsAYfkIQiSmDnuOxrM1FTiuROmnB7OXp59audN9oXVZsGqIj4eE6zUErk9IPooPRIXE3pDDduQraoBsafPguXda1yQ3lsidwGI8Cg5JzQLYP15QlFZBUH7rKfLntmHM=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">San Joaquin River NWR pond</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-25751965390613259072024-01-19T11:00:00.000-08:002024-01-19T11:42:16.106-08:00A Conservation Success Story in the Making: California Brown Pelican<div>With all the less-than-great news floating around out there these days about the future of the environment in general, and birds in particular, it's refreshing to pause and reflect on the success stories the world of conservation has seen in the fifty years since the implementation of the Endangered Species Act in December of 1973.</div><div><br /></div><div>While human activity has undoubtedly <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2019/09/response-to-study-decline-of-north.html" target="_blank">caused bird populations to decrease drastically</a> in that span of time, (and sadly those numbers may continue to drop) conservationists across North America have managed to make some pretty incredible changes <i>for the better</i> for a number of species as well. The Endangered Species Act has protected over 1,600 species in its fifty-year history, and is credited with saving nearly 300 species from extinction. </div><div><br /></div><div>The <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2020/01/the-endangered-california-condor.html" target="_blank">California Condor</a> is one such example, a species that would be gone today if it weren't for the incredible work of a massive team of researchers and conservationists. Other success stories include those of the <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2019/01/bald-eagles-on-californias-prairie.html" target="_blank">Bald Eagle</a>, <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2020/01/wild-backyard-america-breakfast-with.html" target="_blank">Peregrine Falcon</a> and <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2017/09/celebrate-conservation-success-story.html" target="_blank">Sea Otter</a>. While plenty of species still teeter on the brink, like California's <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2017/05/western-snowy-plover-threatened-species.html" target="_blank">Snowy Plover</a> and <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2024/01/losing-ground-mountain-plover-in.html" target="_blank">Mountain Plover</a>, these conservation success stories remind us what positive changes can be brought about when groups of concerned, compassionate and highly dedicated people work together to protect a species and its habitat.</div><div><br /></div><div>On the coast of central California, another example of conservation success glides silently past on wings that span over six feet, a quiet reminder of what was nearly lost half a century ago.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhj1uzpm1tGYQlCFv1Zg-2pDtiR6tho1vaO_a9UU8GsifeB-0nvbtsI6rSqa4iYRNBCSzqqtxVeT3yyVDB1NM6QfTOPbtph3oOwZd9fEyEG1XQXZpFLNz0bRwPQkN6WAEyhQBNmHAwdKsThnCNrD49Sn-Zj7FhPYc0YSy3zDXgdBs9IgStGvt7k4JYgT_jF" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1838" data-original-width="2907" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhj1uzpm1tGYQlCFv1Zg-2pDtiR6tho1vaO_a9UU8GsifeB-0nvbtsI6rSqa4iYRNBCSzqqtxVeT3yyVDB1NM6QfTOPbtph3oOwZd9fEyEG1XQXZpFLNz0bRwPQkN6WAEyhQBNmHAwdKsThnCNrD49Sn-Zj7FhPYc0YSy3zDXgdBs9IgStGvt7k4JYgT_jF=s16000" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><div>As numerous as Brown Pelicans seem today, it's hard to imagine there was a time, not so long ago, when this species was in danger of disappearing entirely.</div><div><br /></div><div>Prehistoric-looking, and sometimes described as "gawky," Brown Pelicans are massive seabirds with several unique physiological and behavioral adaptations that make them a truly remarkable species. While squadrons of pelicans (yes, flocks of pelicans are indeed called "squadrons") in synchronized flight formations is a thing of beauty and grace, their plunge-diving feeding antics really are somewhat awkward and amusing to watch... especially when young birds are just learning the ropes! <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BfEboMmwAMw" target="_blank">Check out this video</a> to see more!</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhos1LzFvy0xSVcZ067FYsmLNGmNFJrOh2CrqeVZBtqHV49yDwH0cxSQe9xGv7HvIBkXshE3TEOf6xnhQcVlcNX8Fw7z0CIp0T-5Ado57cvsmJYbp-CDZyXGavNtT50uEnAvvSb7Bwqa7HD0bNZq6etJ4tBXtBtbdkC9flvt63mbrBxxNOFj5kjcN88DKAG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2524" data-original-width="1953" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhos1LzFvy0xSVcZ067FYsmLNGmNFJrOh2CrqeVZBtqHV49yDwH0cxSQe9xGv7HvIBkXshE3TEOf6xnhQcVlcNX8Fw7z0CIp0T-5Ado57cvsmJYbp-CDZyXGavNtT50uEnAvvSb7Bwqa7HD0bNZq6etJ4tBXtBtbdkC9flvt63mbrBxxNOFj5kjcN88DKAG=w310-h400" width="310" /></a></div><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7-4_NrNHJYI/XaYbviKCoFI/AAAAAAAAEfk/-ZvGPq8qfOs0awPlLK72r8pPijXqbaAPACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_9170.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1229" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7-4_NrNHJYI/XaYbviKCoFI/AAAAAAAAEfk/-ZvGPq8qfOs0awPlLK72r8pPijXqbaAPACLcBGAsYHQ/w306-h400/IMG_9170.JPG" width="306" /></a></div></div>
<div>Above left: Juvenile Brown Pelican (Monterey, September.) Above right: Adult Brown Pelican, non-breeding plumage (Monterey, November). This adult is just beginning to display his winter-spring breeding plumage, as seen by his bright red gular pouch. But come spring, in full breeding plumage, the snowy white neck of the non-breeding Brown Pelican turns a rich, cinnamon-brown. The bird below, photographed in early June, has lost most of the bright red color on the gular pouch, but still retains the dark neck feathers of the breeding season.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgRNfx8RPazRGSPPEnG7kFGqndZuNUau_DxApHNm9GCjGItcW69Wfmvw9Qb_q3otIusHMwCrUnXNoP8PBMOHP609Z54NywH8VEIry_4vUpZN1aEmVY1Dp97s_iDHsDy2wx9XRynIy2JcCNNUA4-GfFfkMdweTwOgZ0Zow3FWDQcVxwtHIKyePgUSrfrbPTj" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2583" data-original-width="3602" height="458" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgRNfx8RPazRGSPPEnG7kFGqndZuNUau_DxApHNm9GCjGItcW69Wfmvw9Qb_q3otIusHMwCrUnXNoP8PBMOHP609Z54NywH8VEIry_4vUpZN1aEmVY1Dp97s_iDHsDy2wx9XRynIy2JcCNNUA4-GfFfkMdweTwOgZ0Zow3FWDQcVxwtHIKyePgUSrfrbPTj=w640-h458" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The subspecies of Brown Pelican known as the California Brown Pelican breeds largely in the Gulf of California; around 20% of its total population breeds on the Channel Islands, off the coast of southern California. Following their winter-spring breeding season, California Brown Pelicans disperse north; numbers peak in the Monterey area in the summer and fall, though some do stick around all year. While young Brown Pelicans become independent only a few months after hatching, it takes three to five years for individuals to reach maturity and begin breeding; likely, it's these nonbreeding adults that are here throughout the year. </div><div><blockquote>Visit the coast these days, and you are nearly guaranteed a sighting of these remarkable birds. But fifty years ago, that was not the case. </blockquote></div><div>In the 1970's, the formerly abundant California Brown Pelican faced extinction: Researchers counted a mere <a href="https://www.biologicaldiversity.org/campaigns/esa_works/profile_pages/CaliforniaBrownPelican.html" target="_blank">466</a> pelican nests across their range during the breeding season of 1978. The precipitous decline in Brown Pelicans nationwide began with their persecution in the early 1900's, as the large fish-eating birds were seen as direct competitors with the fishing industry. By the post-war era, the widespread use of new pesticides was taking a massive toll on bird populations, particularly on iconic species like Bald Eagles, Peregrine Falcons and Brown Pelicans. A pesticide called endrin, used to control insects, rodents and birds, came on the scene in 1950 and had an immediate effect, killing pelicans directly. Indirectly, the insecticide DDT worked its way up the food chain, concentrating in top predators (like the aforementioned species of birds) where it affected birds' calcium metabolism and caused the birds to lay eggs with weak, thin eggshells that readily broke under the weight of the incubating parents. Effects of these chemicals in the environment were devastating. In 1972, shortly before the Endangered Species Act was passed, DDT was banned in the United States, and, protected under the Act, most affected species have been able to make a slow but steady comeback.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3s-rCxJdO7U/XaYq5cokuHI/AAAAAAAAEf8/AZK7bjYhY_gkRmwN5OPXTPgQv6zd6CEJQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_1534.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3s-rCxJdO7U/XaYq5cokuHI/AAAAAAAAEf8/AZK7bjYhY_gkRmwN5OPXTPgQv6zd6CEJQCLcBGAsYHQ/s16000/IMG_1534.JPG" /></a></div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Protection of Brown Pelicans was so successful that Atlantic and Gulf Coast populations were removed from the Endangered Species list in 1985; the California Brown Pelican was delisted in 2009, and now an estimated <a href="https://ca.audubon.org/brown-pelican-1" target="_blank">70,680</a> pairs of these special birds breed across their range in Southern California and Mexico. Happily, California Brown Pelicans are now considered a species of "least concern," meaning that their populations appear to be in good health, and in no danger of extinction, at least for the time being.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiZRDcxlvtl69mqjXUDt_1dpiUx-HPxLrte93PiPsbElhFudbWxAiRbHjK46nhvtuBTTAPjXwFp3ogpWiCBnQsd2Mf9Rqx6_EGgOPPS2Y6d133_vb8heDFG1Y6jAb3Fd9n3dRPmZtiFknsfXjEWObFfyD7kn3lelEHWub10CCFt2jDkAKW_UkzmqzWO7Npe" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2499" data-original-width="3401" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiZRDcxlvtl69mqjXUDt_1dpiUx-HPxLrte93PiPsbElhFudbWxAiRbHjK46nhvtuBTTAPjXwFp3ogpWiCBnQsd2Mf9Rqx6_EGgOPPS2Y6d133_vb8heDFG1Y6jAb3Fd9n3dRPmZtiFknsfXjEWObFfyD7kn3lelEHWub10CCFt2jDkAKW_UkzmqzWO7Npe=s16000" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>I said this story would be good news, and it most certainly is! But I would be remiss if I implied that all we have to do now is sit back on our laurels and watch pelicans thrive. </div><div><blockquote>The simple reality of the time in which we live is that breeding and foraging habitat for species such as the Brown Pelican continues to be under constant pressure from development, climate change and pollution. </blockquote></div><div>Oil spills and the health of marine fisheries are at the top of the list of concerns regarding the future sustained health of Brown Pelican populations. Pelicans tend to hang out near harbors and shipping channels, where the risk of oil contamination is highest. The success of breeding colonies on the Channel Islands and in the Gulf of California is dependent on healthy populations of key forage species (namely, anchovy and sardine), which have dropped drastically in recent years and may be contributing to lower breeding success in this part of the Brown Pelican's range. Disturbance of breeding colonies can also lead to nesting failure, as spooked parents may panic and crush the eggs in their nests. And like all seabirds and waterfowl, pelicans of any age can meet their demise after becoming entangled in fishing gear that has been negligently disposed of or abandoned.</div><div>
<br />
The sight of large groups of these funny, prehistoric birds floating and loafing around beaches and piers up and down California's coast is something most of us probably take for granted. </div><div><blockquote>Seeing them today, one would never know that fifty years ago, we nearly lost California Brown Pelicans entirely. </blockquote></div><div>That is why these stories of conservation success matter: To remind us that our actions matter, that we really are the stewards of countless species and the habitats we share with them, and therefore, we have an active role to play in their survival. Their wellbeing is our responsibility. We can choose to ignore the problems, do nothing but look out for our own bottom line and let species like the Brown Pelican dwindle and eventually die out, or we can take responsibility for our actions as humans and ensure that species like these will continue to enjoy healthy populations and productive habitats in which to thrive. </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg2H-SdW7fKMrlhHrQ7FD7Dm2JjLdwfmWKOLHZtPsDktGXM6cyuNDKCnLa1MnFmrBTvdiRd5ehglB97LPR_zKk3jvoe90K1erPGh6CzxahmI1kqfYaJ2oorUKDEsEQvSe-EHaf3Ndqlowb_Caj7BeycXvqztQ1sLL9rQ62NAtqJ7iub8nabWtFe_KeSvE7K" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2304" data-original-width="3070" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg2H-SdW7fKMrlhHrQ7FD7Dm2JjLdwfmWKOLHZtPsDktGXM6cyuNDKCnLa1MnFmrBTvdiRd5ehglB97LPR_zKk3jvoe90K1erPGh6CzxahmI1kqfYaJ2oorUKDEsEQvSe-EHaf3Ndqlowb_Caj7BeycXvqztQ1sLL9rQ62NAtqJ7iub8nabWtFe_KeSvE7K=s16000" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>We know so much more today than we did fifty or a hundred years ago. We have more resources, more data, and more manpower to rally behind the protection of species and their habitats. Humans have already caused North America to lose a substantial handful of bird species: The <a href="https://johnjames.audubon.org/extinction-great-auk" target="_blank">Great Auk</a>, <a href="https://johnjames.audubon.org/conservation/billions-none-extinction-passenger-pigeon" target="_blank">Passenger Pigeon</a>, <a href="https://johnjames.audubon.org/last-carolina-parakeet" target="_blank">Carolina Parakeet</a>, <a href="https://www.sdakotabirds.com/species/labrador_duck_info.htm" target="_blank">Labrador Duck</a>, <a href="https://www.sdakotabirds.com/species/bachmans_warbler_info.htm" target="_blank">Bachman's Warbler</a>, and in all likelihood the <a href="https://www.audubon.org/news/the-eskimo-curlew-hasnt-been-seen-55-years-it-time-declare-it-extinct" target="_blank">Eskimo Curlew</a> and <a href="https://abcbirds.org/bird/ivory-billed-woodpecker/" target="_blank">Ivory-billed Woodpecker</a>, too, are all gone forever. </div><div><br /></div><div>We've lost far too much already. So let's remember and celebrate the conservation success stories, like that of the Brown Pelican, and let them motivate us to do all we can to ensure that we don't add any more species to the terrible list of what we have lost.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMl9O9DgNZ6Ajm2DsvcuYbpPcL2N3LGbhDPWzQVAeHe6VqTzEWwMTxMXk5omCnU0DMVJmaMTmNlwIq3HZAw49wHCuzOVfLb3tbXBcQ_O2UDRBiBtrF-CE_97MpI4FwWAsgFx6zeSxrfQBuLrjO1MVXcJI_ZVwgqBIwpv6PGWM9gzn8MIpjkf9Ps5GD_1FT/s4608/IMG_3416.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMl9O9DgNZ6Ajm2DsvcuYbpPcL2N3LGbhDPWzQVAeHe6VqTzEWwMTxMXk5omCnU0DMVJmaMTmNlwIq3HZAw49wHCuzOVfLb3tbXBcQ_O2UDRBiBtrF-CE_97MpI4FwWAsgFx6zeSxrfQBuLrjO1MVXcJI_ZVwgqBIwpv6PGWM9gzn8MIpjkf9Ps5GD_1FT/s16000/IMG_3416.JPG" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="background-color: white; clear: both; letter-spacing: -0.16px;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: times;"><span style="letter-spacing: normal;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="background-color: white; clear: both; letter-spacing: -0.16px;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: times;"><span style="letter-spacing: normal;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="background-color: white; clear: both; letter-spacing: -0.16px;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: times;"><span style="letter-spacing: normal;">Semi-related aside: If you're an avid reader and bibliophile, as I am, I'd like to recommend two books that have given me an encouraging perspective on environmental issues in North America over the last seventy or eighty years. In 1953, birder and illustrator Roger Tory Peterson and his British colleague James Fisher traveled 30,000 miles around the continent exploring North America's habitats and wildlife. They wrote about their travels in their book, </span><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/en/book/show/291307" style="letter-spacing: normal;" target="_blank">Wild America</a><span style="letter-spacing: normal;">. North American wildlife in the mid-century was in a serious crisis: the rage for feathers in ladies hats had ravaged bird populations; the post-war boom was eating up land and dumping chemicals into the environment at a truly alarming rate; America's burgeoning car fetish was only adding to the load of pollutants in the air; plastics were just arriving on the scene; and so much more. At the time of Peterson and Fisher's journey, things were not looking good. Fifty years later, in 2003, naturalist and author Scott Weidensaul retraced their steps, visiting the places they had visited, seeking out the species they had encountered. And he too wrote about what he discovered in his book, </span><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1152410.Return_to_Wild_America?from_search=true&from_srp=true&qid=CxLyIdZpaa&rank=1" style="letter-spacing: normal;" target="_blank">Return to Wild America</a><span style="letter-spacing: normal;">. While Weidensaul found some habitats gone entirely, and others altered beyond recognition, the overall tone of the book is positive: people were more conscious about how their actions affect wildlife populations; DDT had been banned; the Endangered Species Act had been signed; efforts were being made to curb emissions and generate cleaner energy. Overall, the environment was healthier than it had been fifty years before. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="background-color: white; clear: both; letter-spacing: -0.16px;"><span style="letter-spacing: normal;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: times;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="background-color: white; clear: both; letter-spacing: -0.16px;"><span style="letter-spacing: normal;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: times;">And that, like the story of our pelicans, is something to celebrate.</span></span></div></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><div><div style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; letter-spacing: -0.16px; margin-bottom: 1.25rem; max-width: 670px; width: 670px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #404040; font-family: interstate-light, "Gotham SSm A", "Gotham SSm B", calibri, "helvetica neue", helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #404040; font-family: interstate-light, "Gotham SSm A", "Gotham SSm B", calibri, "helvetica neue", helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div></div></div>
</div>
</div>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-27276261945459497092024-01-12T14:35:00.000-08:002024-01-12T14:35:11.196-08:00Miniature Mites of the Pines: Pygmy Nuthatches in Monterey<p>For your daily dose of adorable, and to liven up the dreary days of winter, have a look at this family of Pygmy Nuthatches I encountered last July while birding on the coast near Carmel!</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBW2lVJBFwXHgJWBHvzhv5zBRR7fr4A5p9uSxk7NLtkyiw5oujO2hsl85LcnfXHr41pbMezYj13J7b_Nn_RlEdqIkHodUvr0kC7W9j5gXcVLsVAyRYURhMPVUEjfg7s-w5cETeLXfcNzPOHgkuGQpbtnmALRWUwTGeYDBwE1LUslyBaB02nCUnKcu4HB7A/s1460/DSC02374.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1008" data-original-width="1460" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBW2lVJBFwXHgJWBHvzhv5zBRR7fr4A5p9uSxk7NLtkyiw5oujO2hsl85LcnfXHr41pbMezYj13J7b_Nn_RlEdqIkHodUvr0kC7W9j5gXcVLsVAyRYURhMPVUEjfg7s-w5cETeLXfcNzPOHgkuGQpbtnmALRWUwTGeYDBwE1LUslyBaB02nCUnKcu4HB7A/s16000/DSC02374.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Juvenile Pygmy Nuthatch in a Monterey Cypress</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p>Tipping the tiny scales at about one-third of an ounce (or around nine grams, the equivalent weight of nine paperclips), Pygmy Nuthatches are the smallest of the four North American species of nuthatch. Though small, these little mites of the pines make their presence known as they call to each other with an incessant series of high-pitched piping notes that has been likened to a rubber ducky being squeezed. Often, <a href="https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Pygmy_Nuthatch/sounds" target="_blank">this sound</a> pelting down from the treetops is the first indication that these active little birds are in the area.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlptB9wV2SHxFuIMaIqj43EuLHdTaaHPrfkZ7wePRisQV9hrlBW8OcdYSwEqhKhxnwp0SVu_U7-a1q1cIqrd-wvEvQaWOn2lf7SLVgmdIUSyN6H3kg39zEAEkZDKi_VvdlpHMpx_gSQ7zNHZALb1R2sniXCwKKGfT0E1v1xQEWY36rGMLuGxDzG8r7xOmi/s1694/DSC02377.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1022" data-original-width="1694" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlptB9wV2SHxFuIMaIqj43EuLHdTaaHPrfkZ7wePRisQV9hrlBW8OcdYSwEqhKhxnwp0SVu_U7-a1q1cIqrd-wvEvQaWOn2lf7SLVgmdIUSyN6H3kg39zEAEkZDKi_VvdlpHMpx_gSQ7zNHZALb1R2sniXCwKKGfT0E1v1xQEWY36rGMLuGxDzG8r7xOmi/s16000/DSC02377.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Juvenile Pygmy Nuthatch, begging for food.</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p></div><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil0s9bwjSUY1dXtv5DnuEi-H8AuYko-H8QMcUSv6s1EKovhgOc4TRjqPAk2JAjnQ_G_UyLbRSOjQ8Tx4kpJGeId4xYCXjDqmy_-vNzq8togWINC3PEEXq973NGtopKWHR_qWY_iad8qGXjnoHkeFsC0chS4LpQmp84PciVipQr827Oi99BmGqEM1H-0DUv/s1501/DSC02378.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1029" data-original-width="1501" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil0s9bwjSUY1dXtv5DnuEi-H8AuYko-H8QMcUSv6s1EKovhgOc4TRjqPAk2JAjnQ_G_UyLbRSOjQ8Tx4kpJGeId4xYCXjDqmy_-vNzq8togWINC3PEEXq973NGtopKWHR_qWY_iad8qGXjnoHkeFsC0chS4LpQmp84PciVipQr827Oi99BmGqEM1H-0DUv/s16000/DSC02378.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Juvenile Pygmy Nuthatch, awaiting its meal delivery.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p>Pygmy Nuthatches do everything together: they breed cooperatively, with relatives helping a mated pair raise its brood of up to nine youngsters; they roost communally, with as many as a hundred or more individuals piling into a single cavity to keep warm through cold nights; and flocks move continually as they forage through the trees, often mixing with chickadees, kinglets and other small songbirds.</p></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg34TXyF4O_I95L5OKUWryYk5UW4gzi2GejEW0Rh6lYIxlaHp78uUOSYoa_K55pJ10-j4RvsXqc8MD94BjD7YaQ4HXKW_aBpV8bm7UySPq7q7CPZusPbKnsRtF3dBBGgpIzG8lHomZdrrwUGhKRd-gROu0iR4kWBaMot9fk7JfhwnKuDs9aQr4j9BMeR8h2/s2201/DSC02386.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1337" data-original-width="2201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg34TXyF4O_I95L5OKUWryYk5UW4gzi2GejEW0Rh6lYIxlaHp78uUOSYoa_K55pJ10-j4RvsXqc8MD94BjD7YaQ4HXKW_aBpV8bm7UySPq7q7CPZusPbKnsRtF3dBBGgpIzG8lHomZdrrwUGhKRd-gROu0iR4kWBaMot9fk7JfhwnKuDs9aQr4j9BMeR8h2/s16000/DSC02386.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adult Pygmy Nuthatch, gleaning tiny insects to feed to its hungry young.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Little stub-tailed balls of frenetic energy, nuthatches seem to be continually on the hunt for food. Pygmy Nuthatches eat a variety of insects and seeds that they typically glean from the top and outermost branches of pines and other conifers. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">According to <a href="https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/" target="_blank">Cornell's All About Birds</a>, it takes a whole <i>nine calories per day</i> to fuel one of these active little birds! That might sound meager, but recall that we're talking about a bird that weighs a scant one-third of an ounce. If you do the math, that works out to be 27 calories per ounce of weight, and 432 calories per pound. Multiply that by your own body weight to see how many calories you would have to consume if you ate like a Pygmy Nuthatch! (For me, that would be a mind-boggling 51,840 calories per day!!!) Needless to say, using the phrase "eat like a bird" in reference to someone who is a light eater is entirely inaccurate!</div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ7L68Mu9iYhClsFIGYw7BmBXzs98C49E5ndKOo6feIBqWUCDfN8GrJNUj0g3GSsbZXAK6r5lqBndRsG_5pNRt-Hsq29iLPstNHAxJmyrfV94EY7y8t3GyiJ3BNnga991Placu3ayLLJTcZ4n2lozxyyEdNX64fekRKVoc3w-4byHXjyi1ize2A69urmfV/s3648/DSC02400.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2434" data-original-width="3648" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ7L68Mu9iYhClsFIGYw7BmBXzs98C49E5ndKOo6feIBqWUCDfN8GrJNUj0g3GSsbZXAK6r5lqBndRsG_5pNRt-Hsq29iLPstNHAxJmyrfV94EY7y8t3GyiJ3BNnga991Placu3ayLLJTcZ4n2lozxyyEdNX64fekRKVoc3w-4byHXjyi1ize2A69urmfV/s16000/DSC02400.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before this encounter with Pygmy Nuthatches, I had never before noticed the pale whitish spot that adult birds have on the back of their heads, visible in this photo as well as the following.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia_GqP-vCxWScY0jIrogtlpry3nUDidx2jElXDQK48_U4acfj44dKlycRqcyPBfps7Sg4dqun-2A_MkhtX1TEd1WlAAGfciTTPHLhqDPT1k2J5ATEBH1hpQK8zmrqTHXPYml2GgY1PMp157r2fICJNdvRLPFBI0q2B4ZmO5JxBWPGskn2dlzPeynGHrs8V/s2222/DSC02402.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1351" data-original-width="2222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia_GqP-vCxWScY0jIrogtlpry3nUDidx2jElXDQK48_U4acfj44dKlycRqcyPBfps7Sg4dqun-2A_MkhtX1TEd1WlAAGfciTTPHLhqDPT1k2J5ATEBH1hpQK8zmrqTHXPYml2GgY1PMp157r2fICJNdvRLPFBI0q2B4ZmO5JxBWPGskn2dlzPeynGHrs8V/s16000/DSC02402.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">These tiny bundles of energy range across the pine forests of the western United States. Though they favor open forests of Ponderosa Pine, they also inhabit other types of pine forests where older trees provide the cavities they need for nesting and roosting. In California, they can be found as high as 10,000 feet in the Sierra Nevada mountains, as well as just above sea level along the coast. In the longleaf pine forests of the southeastern United States, they are replaced by the similar Brown-headed Nuthatch.</div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoaokbXx4VZiC4phPlO3ZjzghWJiYyfFL6vaorvZP0nMnfbJF4kfD9yVhX08QkGRWkwuWpdmUAS2db-OSMXR0O1DdNVNP0v99F5twLcxVtumyaGYiCxqhcUcAYlsCblV6Xw3CP5R33burk5LqdA-fcIFA-Ghgd44b6vleN656FX8NydXKloNo7hOsmd3Wg/s1968/DSC02411.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1323" data-original-width="1968" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoaokbXx4VZiC4phPlO3ZjzghWJiYyfFL6vaorvZP0nMnfbJF4kfD9yVhX08QkGRWkwuWpdmUAS2db-OSMXR0O1DdNVNP0v99F5twLcxVtumyaGYiCxqhcUcAYlsCblV6Xw3CP5R33burk5LqdA-fcIFA-Ghgd44b6vleN656FX8NydXKloNo7hOsmd3Wg/s16000/DSC02411.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another juvenile nuthatch, with another hungry mouth to feed!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><p></p>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-63674788971052964982024-01-06T09:54:00.000-08:002024-01-07T18:10:28.434-08:00Losing Ground: Mountain Plover in California's Central Valley<p>Christened the "Rocky Mountain Plover" in 1834 by John James Audubon, the Mountain Plover, as it is now called, is actually a bird of short grass prairies rather than true mountain habitats. Named for its breeding range in the Rocky Mountain region of the United States, specifically in parts of Colorado, Wyoming and Montana, a large percentage of Mountain Plovers spend a significant portion of their lives in California, where they winter on remnants of grassland, alkali flats and, most notably, plowed and fallow agricultural fields.</p><p>The Mountain Plover is a habitat specialist, adapted to life on short grass prairies and other areas of bare ground and sparse coverings of very short vegetation. </p><p>And in California, the bare ground that Mountain Plovers need to survive is rapidly dwindling.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhY3apfKhxSFarUx5FQEwlVezVBp15zHgoZF8NYFFnm6KLx5Z0Vk7HwBZbsFKyhvQzjuwzXflFpUhv74Ho9PrXN-t8VRBt2y7qxHOvnBDK7i1Ejqiy8mc1IcZA9aNmX00fox5nuFmv8H2DHqmFNTK_7RjJkJ0TysBXSa1cILLYPqsaewYWBBJCEC8P5daxx" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="626" data-original-width="951" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhY3apfKhxSFarUx5FQEwlVezVBp15zHgoZF8NYFFnm6KLx5Z0Vk7HwBZbsFKyhvQzjuwzXflFpUhv74Ho9PrXN-t8VRBt2y7qxHOvnBDK7i1Ejqiy8mc1IcZA9aNmX00fox5nuFmv8H2DHqmFNTK_7RjJkJ0TysBXSa1cILLYPqsaewYWBBJCEC8P5daxx=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mountain Plover, Yolo County California, January</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>Almost exclusively insectivorous, Mountain Plovers spend their entire lives on the ground, scurrying along with a distinctive run-and-stop style as they scour cracks in the earth in search of their invertebrate prey, which includes beetles, crickets and grasshoppers. When threatened by predators, flocks of wintering plovers may flush and fly away, or simply hunker down into a depression in the ground and let their soft earth-toned backs camouflage them as they seem to simply disappear into the substrate.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEih0PIPSgKDBxIW5EKq812tvJOHwg8TeNIbcJT3UJ_UPoqGxupSLTvSk8XHj-lIt3k0YuqWncvcpA1p3VDNDNNJ2QAv-mpa0FajaO8NB4KrlDa_aSiIn8rlGopjyvoPE48DrYmOvqNGtZ8fDL-zLAeGaor_EIoguWCIlohUjepJIhHwNYbL1QvuNla8WqLq" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="892" data-original-width="1372" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEih0PIPSgKDBxIW5EKq812tvJOHwg8TeNIbcJT3UJ_UPoqGxupSLTvSk8XHj-lIt3k0YuqWncvcpA1p3VDNDNNJ2QAv-mpa0FajaO8NB4KrlDa_aSiIn8rlGopjyvoPE48DrYmOvqNGtZ8fDL-zLAeGaor_EIoguWCIlohUjepJIhHwNYbL1QvuNla8WqLq=s16000" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p>On the prairies of the Rocky Mountain states, Mountain Plover pairs nest on the ground, building not one but two nests, which are little more than shallow depressions in the ground lined with bits of vegetation. The female divides her clutch of eggs between the two nests, usually laying two or three eggs in each nest. The male and female of the pair each incubate one of the nests, which are usually placed within sight of each other.</p><p>Mountain Plovers arrive on their breeding grounds in April, and leave in July after the young birds have fledged. Some research indicates that flocks of Mountain Plover move to post-breeding staging areas in late summer before continuing on to their wintering grounds, but much is still unknown about this season of their annual migratory journey.</p><p>A large proportion of Mountain Plovers breed on <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2023/09/pawnee-national-grassland.html" target="_blank">Pawnee National Grassland</a>, protected shortgrass prairie habitat in northeastern Colorado. However, when we visited last June, the birds were at the peak of their breeding season, and as far as I could tell were all hidden safely out of view on their nests.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg2lFksWwr1ScXBL10_Dzw_2jl1OoheSlsv8MxFZeZRfmCJkxoIV3OUBYCcfMN6nMKApZN9O4ZKO98vSaPGmEJgGBmzWpZmKuWcGjFvUDXWrQpRO-jEeasIQhSd3_sy-vu1Nj4KxgBbGIqdDnVQuzwpNbOPh0iQTbGrGkD0CJyfK8m9nqRHBa-KqZvvetLn" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1859" data-original-width="2997" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg2lFksWwr1ScXBL10_Dzw_2jl1OoheSlsv8MxFZeZRfmCJkxoIV3OUBYCcfMN6nMKApZN9O4ZKO98vSaPGmEJgGBmzWpZmKuWcGjFvUDXWrQpRO-jEeasIQhSd3_sy-vu1Nj4KxgBbGIqdDnVQuzwpNbOPh0iQTbGrGkD0CJyfK8m9nqRHBa-KqZvvetLn=s16000" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p>In November, flocks of Mountain Plover begin to arrive on their wintering grounds, where they stay until late February or March. In California, flocks of Mountain Plover winter in significant numbers in the southern Sacramento Valley (especially Yolo County), a few key valleys within the Coast Range west of the San Joaquin Valley (such as the Panoche Valley and <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2017/04/when-california-was-wild-glimpse-into.html" target="_blank">Carrizo Plain</a>), and the Imperial Valley. Mountain Plovers winter in southern Texas as well, though the majority of the North American population of Mountain Plover (which is also the entire <i>world</i> population of this species) spends the winter months in California. </p><p></p><blockquote>In fact, <a href="https://esrp.csustan.edu/speciesprofiles/profile.php?sp=chmo" target="_blank">up to 90%</a> of the world population of Mountain Plovers, which is estimated to be some 20,000 individuals, winters in California. </blockquote><p></p><p>To put the Mountain Plover's small population in perspective, the population of North America's familiar and somewhat less fussy <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2019/03/nesting-killdeer.html" target="_blank">Killdeer</a>, a related species of plover, is estimated to be over 1 million birds, more than fifty times that of the Mountain Plover! <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2019/09/response-to-study-decline-of-north.html" target="_blank">Though they too are in decline.</a></p><p>Sadly, the number of wintering Mountain Plovers in the Central Valley has declined sharply in recent decades. Habitat loss has contributed greatly to the decline of the Mountain Plover on its breeding grounds as well, as short grass prairie habitat has been destroyed, degraded and converted to agriculture or development. Since 1968, the world population of Mountain Plovers has declined by a radical 80%. </p><p></p><blockquote>Only two out of every ten Mountain Plovers that once inhabited North American prairies in the middle of the 20th century remain today.</blockquote><p></p><p>In 1944, authors and ornithologists Joseph Grinnell and Alden Miller published their seminal work, <a href="https://sora.unm.edu/sites/default/files/journals/pca/pca_027.pdf" target="_blank">The Distribution of the Birds of California</a>, in which they wrote that Mountain Plovers were considered abundant in California prior to 1880, and "by 1915 had become notably scarce." They also noted that between 1915 and 1944, there had perhaps been a slight increase in their numbers. One of the chief wintering locations of Mountain Plover described by Grinnell and Miller was Knights Landing, in Yolo County, and today, that is still one of the best places in Northern California to find this special bird.</p><p>When Eric and I arrived at "the plover spot," a gravel roadside within a mosaic of plowed and fallow fields a few miles northwest of historic Knights Landing, a flock of about forty Mountain Plovers greeted us in a bare field not too far from the road. We watched in delight as the plovers scampered over the bare earth in characteristic plover fashion, pausing now and then to nab an insect from the ground. Even from a distance, the white chests of the plovers shone in the morning sun; but when they turned their backs, they melted seamlessly into the bare landscape of soil and stubble they were designed to inhabit.</p><p>The plovers were utterly charming, and I was thrilled to get to spend some time with these truly gorgeous birds. But something troubled me.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgE2l9KZpJMaRsI1TPbtWhPWDBOq1gerNAnt3LHDkVp6Z8OnRih2y5RTRcUbfjGXu3C_wUpOA2Ge-s9gRTrcyQg_yN6fzC-t3zdiVrYAu8cDM1pFOTXE8ENjBOlAZwW15WPQkZQBzY5CA9HagcLrE7S5qrJ-2vNhGGBW7z6ExFKqWeAdbbFC53_VIfdzAhm" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2434" data-original-width="3648" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgE2l9KZpJMaRsI1TPbtWhPWDBOq1gerNAnt3LHDkVp6Z8OnRih2y5RTRcUbfjGXu3C_wUpOA2Ge-s9gRTrcyQg_yN6fzC-t3zdiVrYAu8cDM1pFOTXE8ENjBOlAZwW15WPQkZQBzY5CA9HagcLrE7S5qrJ-2vNhGGBW7z6ExFKqWeAdbbFC53_VIfdzAhm=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mountain Plover, against a troubling backdrop of almond trees.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>The adjacent field to the north was converted to an orchard a couple of years ago, and ground that was very recently plover habitat now supported rows upon rows of young almond trees. The field across the street looked like it had been planted with trees just this year, the young orchard still swathed in protective cartons. </p><p>Along the edge of this new orchard, I caught site of another specialist of short grass prairies, a Burrowing Owl, perched on the edge of an irrigation box. While Burrowing Owls can adapt to changing landscapes, nesting and roosting in irrigation culverts and the like, an orchard irrigated by drip lines, frequented by heavy equipment, devoid of rodents and treated regularly with herbicides and pesticides is no place for a small, ground-dwelling owl.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgAwn82tEVWyFxWbD_s38lhTmhiUyzKcwK8yNtZ98a0cJSNCuAo0AocfRb36pmrn6lE8hxqmrm1fzG8zYnd6RwVuMzinn3PojulfOXbU8Ezt6aoaC-ybkuBFVpkaN_hESuG6Y_rCnCKRDTKomOs-YLh6z_GOxZ8OW4ZXlRd_wIFuLChgJgtz63kR1E2nS19" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1933" data-original-width="3051" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgAwn82tEVWyFxWbD_s38lhTmhiUyzKcwK8yNtZ98a0cJSNCuAo0AocfRb36pmrn6lE8hxqmrm1fzG8zYnd6RwVuMzinn3PojulfOXbU8Ezt6aoaC-ybkuBFVpkaN_hESuG6Y_rCnCKRDTKomOs-YLh6z_GOxZ8OW4ZXlRd_wIFuLChgJgtz63kR1E2nS19=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Burrowing Owl, with a newly-planted orchard behind.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>Not long after I spotted the owl, two more quintessential grassland raptors flew in and landed in the field: Ferruginous Hawks, North America's largest hawk and birds of immensely wide open spaces. These majestic predators range across North American grasslands, hunting for rodents on wings that span nearly five feet. There is no place for them in an orchard.</p><p>Horned Larks and American Pipits called almost continually from high overhead, flocks occasionally swirling down to the ground where these shortgrass prairie birds also make their living foraging on the ground alongside Mountain Plover. Again, there is no place for either of these grassland species in an orchard.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLocSMS1SV3tGVoVfCJEl2wkks7D5b7akqbZ38LarhMvw0x0g8ooEWzJH4B8fETYWd4IOw21DPii5RImPlfqhABnuI3UEa08Y1T1rRmfFAelwGdNjeUt0QWfB5LlfKf2N83BfZ35hxPeC_pyZ7SO8RnkR_S7bdxk50W7WGWkOeJP7L-QoBa1ktUCMpP82q" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2434" data-original-width="3648" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLocSMS1SV3tGVoVfCJEl2wkks7D5b7akqbZ38LarhMvw0x0g8ooEWzJH4B8fETYWd4IOw21DPii5RImPlfqhABnuI3UEa08Y1T1rRmfFAelwGdNjeUt0QWfB5LlfKf2N83BfZ35hxPeC_pyZ7SO8RnkR_S7bdxk50W7WGWkOeJP7L-QoBa1ktUCMpP82q=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ferruginous Hawk in the open space it requires.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>Birds of short grass prairies and other bare ground habitats, like Mountain Plovers, have already adapted to a human-altered landscape at least once, if not twice in the last few centuries. As cattle replaced herds of bison and pronghorn across prairies, the plovers found their place alongside them in overgrazed grassland habitat. </p><p></p><blockquote>Remarkably, as the plow broke up rich native grassland up and down California's Central Valley, Mountain Plover once again found suitable wintering habitat on the bare earth of freshly plowed fields, left fallow for the winter. </blockquote><p></p><p>As irrigated agriculture spread into the Imperial Valley, Mountain Plovers followed, finding there an unexpected boon. But though cultivated land works well enough to support wintering plovers, it is clear that they are forced onto it only after facing the loss of their native grassland habitat. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi7o0ukZr04iJFAu9VlSEu1NIzpiAuozqu65_ElwtpIp0Uv3mjILw9PF4ZkExr9P6LZZBHmv9WqfTebLPiicIzy1NW81XU--GTbN0cV0f3bUCRXoPLCMDCjCtYpZi6UQoQmbrFCr_Q-Ethkl53BNKn0zDxLSBa5lN_mymc4yH8Xgrb43IBM1IyqKUU6JwAw" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi7o0ukZr04iJFAu9VlSEu1NIzpiAuozqu65_ElwtpIp0Uv3mjILw9PF4ZkExr9P6LZZBHmv9WqfTebLPiicIzy1NW81XU--GTbN0cV0f3bUCRXoPLCMDCjCtYpZi6UQoQmbrFCr_Q-Ethkl53BNKn0zDxLSBa5lN_mymc4yH8Xgrb43IBM1IyqKUU6JwAw=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mountain Plovers in their winter habitat in Yolo County, California.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>Though the world's population of Mountain Plovers has decreased alarmingly, the species has shown that it can exist alongside certain types of agriculture. But not all types of agriculture. As more and more acres of Central Valley farmland are converted to orchards, plover habitat is lost forever beneath a leafy canopy. </p><p></p><blockquote>Many of the birds of North America's great prairies and grasslands, some of the most inspiring landscapes on the continent, have proven that they can eke out a living in some pretty marginal habitat. But they simply cannot adapt to life in an orchard.</blockquote><p></p><p>Like many birds, Mountain Plovers show high site fidelity, returning year after year to the same traditional breeding, staging and overwintering grounds. Grinnell and Miller have shown that flocks of Mountain Plover have been visiting these fields in Yolo County since at least 1944, and probably for many decades, if not centuries, before that. </p><p>But as I looked out over an encroaching tide of trees, I had to wonder: How much longer will this land support wintering plovers? How long will it remain suitable, bare-ground habitat? </p><p>That sustained habitat loss over the last century has contributed to the loss of 80% of the entire population of Mountain Plovers is undeniable. Numbers of Mountain Plovers also seem to be affected by the health of populations of burrowing mammals, such as moles, gophers, prairie dogs and ground squirrels, since prey abundance has been shown to be higher in habitats shared with these animals. Eradication of these mammals across prairie, grassland and even agricultural habitats appears to have a surprising effect on plover populations as well. </p><p>It should be plain to see that further loss of suitable overwintering habitat in California over the coming decades will prove detrimental to the survival of Mountain Plovers as a species, which is listed as a Species of Special Concern in California and proposed for listing as a federally Threatened Species. Protecting high quality wintering habitat on California's agricultural land by assuring that arable fields remain open, rather than converted to orchards, is imperative to the continued survival of Mountain Plovers, not just in California, but in the entire world. </p><p>It is a terrible thing to so mismanage the land we have been given to steward that we lose <i>any</i> species at all; but it would be truly heartbreaking to lose a species as beautiful and charming as the Mountain Plover. </p>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-34648100993200175552023-12-29T14:11:00.000-08:002024-01-01T13:27:24.080-08:00The Weird and Wonderful World of Sea Ducks<p>"What makes a duck a duck?"</p><p>This question was posed to me the other day by a friendly gentleman who stopped to chat as I stood behind my spotting scope, peering over massive swells and crashing waves at a distant flock of dark specks bobbing on the surface of the water beyond the breakers. These specks, I had informed him, were ducks. More specifically, they were a delightful collection of <i>three </i>species of scoter, a highly specialized type of sea duck designed for life on the rugged, wave-battered coast. </p><p>Those are <i>ducks?</i> I could feel the skepticism. </p><p>Yes, ducks. But not dabbling puddle ducks, like the familiar Mallard, or even hardy diving ducks, like scaup. </p><p>These are <i>sea ducks!</i></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtbbmvyhLX8UBmbyokRdzR7NaPY5s5Oyt36m3RZO3bRtMlaN8yxfbc-6yid7VjT1sH1UJUi7pfEskQ6ahw3fFQs8-YUQc95utaoEunUGfIIMeImgFrlfbyMGYlAmWPyZxU0MUIglsz7GjZpBPxyfnfwuzPaHuUXk6K329KJnK48c9oVldFIWc0hFJKW5sJ/s2832/DSC06176.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1934" data-original-width="2832" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtbbmvyhLX8UBmbyokRdzR7NaPY5s5Oyt36m3RZO3bRtMlaN8yxfbc-6yid7VjT1sH1UJUi7pfEskQ6ahw3fFQs8-YUQc95utaoEunUGfIIMeImgFrlfbyMGYlAmWPyZxU0MUIglsz7GjZpBPxyfnfwuzPaHuUXk6K329KJnK48c9oVldFIWc0hFJKW5sJ/s16000/DSC06176.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Surf Scoters in Monterey Bay, off the coast of Moss Landing, California. July.</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" /></div></td></tr></tbody></table>I answered his question the best I could with somewhat divided attention: Biology, physiology, behavior and life history all combine to make a duck a duck, so that even diverse and disparate groups, like the sea ducks, may be classified under the familiar moniker. Surprising, maybe, but true nonetheless!<p>I could have also added that of the world's 21 species of sea ducks, a group that includes goldeneye, Bufflehead and <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2018/03/red-breasted-mergansers.html" target="_blank">mergansers</a> along with scoters, eiders, Harlequin Duck and <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2019/12/the-long-tailed-duck-of-moss-landing.html" target="_blank">Long-tailed Duck</a>, 15 species breed in North America, generally in the Arctic and northern boreal forests. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgX-9RaWdpORAQbyCHInYFmquz1NCs4nzOl8QlQpwU1j0hpHMKwqON59ETQyOet578AXQDn-ebAoOTmfJ3LfLCJsjctJj3R8x9KtxecKI8_omFO-wHcaho7lVLnB-ibPq0rMcXB0OQUuHLCLtQ4pzDBLJCiX9r1Sj7r2uPFTlfMYDyGFD17eHbCMg1yoV_F" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2661" data-original-width="3849" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgX-9RaWdpORAQbyCHInYFmquz1NCs4nzOl8QlQpwU1j0hpHMKwqON59ETQyOet578AXQDn-ebAoOTmfJ3LfLCJsjctJj3R8x9KtxecKI8_omFO-wHcaho7lVLnB-ibPq0rMcXB0OQUuHLCLtQ4pzDBLJCiX9r1Sj7r2uPFTlfMYDyGFD17eHbCMg1yoV_F=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Harlequin Ducks (males) in the Salish Sea, off the coast of Port Angeles, Washington. June.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>Mysterious and little understood, largely due to the remoteness of both their winter and breeding habitats, sea ducks are a beautiful and captivating group of birds that the world of ornithology is still learning more about. In fact, it wasn't until the 1990's that scientists discovered where Spectacled Eider disappear to during the winter: Satellite transmitters revealed that these incredible ducks spend the long, dark northern winters congregating at openings in pack ice in the Bering and Beaufort Seas, northwest of Alaska!</p><p>Along the coast of Central California, our most common sea duck is the Surf Scoter. Surf Scoters can be found here year-round, though they are far more abundant during fall through early spring. Some non-breeding birds hang around through the summer, though most Surf Scoters head north to Alaska and the northern Canadian provinces for the breeding season. There, during the short summers of high latitudes, Surf Scoters nest near inland ponds and shallow lakes where boreal forests begin to give way to tundra. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjkE9fi4q6HV4QaEJSH-sA-Du6EZMbPNhydBnJ_VzHuZpW43TZLfVR5U7KYWlrzCLc0VsJyx8ioDMrNDg2KhieLFN0eMPFJTQKYWUfrB_jksyDQ2L_LiJTgHy121cqLsZF4_3WCNk_pYGLF_-uDATeXrWu4MiNXWS3snBYgCJSuw4gfHSxqpd5rW9FQ7-MV" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1803" data-original-width="2777" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjkE9fi4q6HV4QaEJSH-sA-Du6EZMbPNhydBnJ_VzHuZpW43TZLfVR5U7KYWlrzCLc0VsJyx8ioDMrNDg2KhieLFN0eMPFJTQKYWUfrB_jksyDQ2L_LiJTgHy121cqLsZF4_3WCNk_pYGLF_-uDATeXrWu4MiNXWS3snBYgCJSuw4gfHSxqpd5rW9FQ7-MV=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Surf Scoters in Monterey Bay, off the coast of Moss Landing, California. July.</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>During fall migration, massive numbers of Surf Scoters move south past Monterey's Point Pinos, on their way to wintering sites as far south as Baja; many stay to winter in and around the Monterey Bay area, where they favor rugged, rocky shorelines, often bobbing in large flocks right in the thick of the breaking waves and diving for invertebrates on the sea floor.<p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh-BMpW2yf8XygS31c9BZLfHy89_5bnAfflvVDuXuAh5mD2YQ1-pXdRS9c9wQJsGRouJ9mZyhfi8sfUlw_Dq-iY93w8IllFXfkAYLo_Gaqo7uOb6sng5b9IlepDAta4wi_4FYfHA459sFaF6NikBwpeoXaBXHNyKb6C6x4bBPKyE0VpkXMVouYM27AQM7hu" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1642" data-original-width="2304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh-BMpW2yf8XygS31c9BZLfHy89_5bnAfflvVDuXuAh5mD2YQ1-pXdRS9c9wQJsGRouJ9mZyhfi8sfUlw_Dq-iY93w8IllFXfkAYLo_Gaqo7uOb6sng5b9IlepDAta4wi_4FYfHA459sFaF6NikBwpeoXaBXHNyKb6C6x4bBPKyE0VpkXMVouYM27AQM7hu=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Surf Scoter (male) in Moss Landing Harbor. August</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>A smaller number of White-winged Scoters and a few rare Black Scoters augment winter scoter flocks along the central coast as well. This was the case the other day in Pacific Grove, where both a White-winged Scoter and a Black Scoter were mixed in with about seventy Surf Scoters. A gorgeous male Black Scoter, sporting a bright orange knob atop his bill, is a real treat to find!</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEifHXbB-hbL-5WfWKM93Q2SE6aKhjw3s5thD24v9W9lyDQdhVD-AG9C7ha3wy1pBUy6_JG5-c2EQtAV18-9aec8x02yckZXaHNJqBwWaQLQkh9unHtGYip0Dxej6287YxgouGf_LU3smIcxwyeaqTp7Zsz797cSo0tjdYJt3UNQS_PYPn6L1hQoFP5Q9ce4" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="843" data-original-width="1296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEifHXbB-hbL-5WfWKM93Q2SE6aKhjw3s5thD24v9W9lyDQdhVD-AG9C7ha3wy1pBUy6_JG5-c2EQtAV18-9aec8x02yckZXaHNJqBwWaQLQkh9unHtGYip0Dxej6287YxgouGf_LU3smIcxwyeaqTp7Zsz797cSo0tjdYJt3UNQS_PYPn6L1hQoFP5Q9ce4=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black Scoter in Monterey Bay, off the coast of Pacific Grove, California. December.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>While sea ducks are present here to some degree year-round, it is winter that truly shine as "<a href="https://www.audubon.org/news/an-ode-weird-duck-time" target="_blank">Weird Duck Time</a>"!</p><p>During this glorious season, when it is possible for us soft Californian birders to luxuriate in sunny skies and temperatures in the 60's, a myriad of weird and wonderful sea ducks are possible along the central coast. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEivBguVOnB5qAdXp6BK1pqIk_PmaSm8rMRDp6ezHbZSh_9aUF2wIh8HKIVWXEMAGL7QlP6zxoHfsejFd531OilcxAvl9MhhPz1QcDFtG16kW5ud-7vxbQLcYWCOapDgxxugs2x4sayEJeWx_6vvuVPOqmYt27aBaBazp_8PtMkks2CzU-P--PNsEZL7uSiQ" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="837" data-original-width="1275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEivBguVOnB5qAdXp6BK1pqIk_PmaSm8rMRDp6ezHbZSh_9aUF2wIh8HKIVWXEMAGL7QlP6zxoHfsejFd531OilcxAvl9MhhPz1QcDFtG16kW5ud-7vxbQLcYWCOapDgxxugs2x4sayEJeWx_6vvuVPOqmYt27aBaBazp_8PtMkks2CzU-P--PNsEZL7uSiQ=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black Scoter in Monterey Bay, off the coast of Pacific Grove, California. December.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>Rare but regular winter visitors to California's central coast include Harlequin Ducks and Long-tailed Ducks, along with the aforementioned Black Scoter. Real rarities, the eiders, only seldom grace our coast, but I was delighted to be able to see two King Eiders from Asilomar State Beach in March of this year, after having encountered Common Eiders for the first time the previous summer in New England.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiQbKISKFoI2iz7C2jI8i871di9_Y5yDd8unrEUTZWOlz6Z9UHLWze9Du3dVK1k5Tje_8g8hGXBlP3ATVPYYocwQTqhDekHnqNL8lCjJuqpb0qOfgOK1VFgqZuF0lK5BBjgTuEpxcA5NOuDl1Mbg3abzJKbPQaAg8kq2w1_WsAxz1WOIw7QRUB4Q015kW8C" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1879" data-original-width="2970" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiQbKISKFoI2iz7C2jI8i871di9_Y5yDd8unrEUTZWOlz6Z9UHLWze9Du3dVK1k5Tje_8g8hGXBlP3ATVPYYocwQTqhDekHnqNL8lCjJuqpb0qOfgOK1VFgqZuF0lK5BBjgTuEpxcA5NOuDl1Mbg3abzJKbPQaAg8kq2w1_WsAxz1WOIw7QRUB4Q015kW8C=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Common Eiders (adult and immature males) in the Atlantic, off Eastern Egg Rock, Maine. June.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>Unfortunately, the 2022 <a href="https://www.stateofthebirds.org/2022/" target="_blank">State of the Birds</a> report found that while all species of sea ducks are in decline, the populations of two species in particular, the King Eider and Black Scoter, have lost half of their populations since 1970. And this decline is projected to continue, unless something changes. Threats to sea duck breeding habitat include oil spills, drilling for oil and gas, sea level rise, pollution, and habitat loss to development, among others. Check out <a href="https://www.fws.gov/story/2023-11/diving-mysterious-world-sea-ducks" target="_blank">this article, by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service</a>, to learn more.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiqOFc5pwWAOtjTWvPEHTonVRgOyS1IHPsbmkkAFzdAWGucQRNvq4RAjBCs9o2bfVi251_Rj_nZF66EgWy-ZO5_avxvIIbR42glVVJ3smVhEooeEoorepISJqj8XsNAbuHSKcldkKHQdbO2WytwpVoUed8qztYhlgW8E5dZxWpTg_lb_TkhuxD_2xmNqDkZ" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2050" data-original-width="3435" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiqOFc5pwWAOtjTWvPEHTonVRgOyS1IHPsbmkkAFzdAWGucQRNvq4RAjBCs9o2bfVi251_Rj_nZF66EgWy-ZO5_avxvIIbR42glVVJ3smVhEooeEoorepISJqj8XsNAbuHSKcldkKHQdbO2WytwpVoUed8qztYhlgW8E5dZxWpTg_lb_TkhuxD_2xmNqDkZ=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Common Eiders (females with young) in the Atlantic, off the coast of New Hampshire. June.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>One of the many benefits of birding is its value as a tool for education and outreach. Most people are unlikely to ever encounter sea ducks in their day-to-day lives; many aren't even aware of their existence. It takes an interest in birds to seek out an article or nature show about these birds, and in order to see them in their natural habitat, one usually has to venture out to the coast and scan the sea with high-powered optics. For someone who has long admired birds and had a desire to see their habitats protected, seeing sea ducks in the wild and experiencing them "in the feather," so to speak, only serves to intensify those feelings. Once you've watched a scoter dive for a mollusk on the sea bed, or an eider tend to her chicks in the surf, it becomes personal. </p><p>But how can people be expected to care about about a group of birds they have never even heard of? And how can they hear about them unless we take the time to tell them? </p><p>[As an aside, this conundrum reminds me of another such question, posed in one very special Book, in reference to a far, far more important Message, the one and only Gospel that brings salvation and hope: "But how can they call on him [Jesus] to save them unless they believe in him? And how can they believe in him if they have never heard about him? And how can they hear about him unless someone tells them?" (Romans 10:14, NLT)</p><p>Whether it's about weird and wonderful sea ducks and their compromised boreal habitat, or <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2021/01/i-believe-additional-reflections-on.html" target="_blank">Jesus Christ and salvation</a>, we have to take the time to tell people.]</p><p>Just a decade or so ago, I too would have looked a trifle confused if someone had told me there were ducks in the pounding surf just off the rocky coast of Pacific Grove, and would probably have been surprised to learn that sea ducks, weird and wild wonders of the far north, spend the winter along the coast of central California. But now, when curious bystanders inquire about my spotting scope and binoculars trained out over the raging surf, usually assuming I'm looking at whales or sea otters (which are wonderful in their own right!), I'm presented with the opportunity to share with others just one more little piece of the richness and beauty of the natural world we have been given to share, hopefully starting another person on a path of wonder and discovery, stewardship and conservation. </p>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-40117002055534867122023-12-22T10:09:00.000-08:002023-12-22T10:09:55.896-08:00Happy Christmas!<p>Happy Christmas, fellow naturalists and lovers of all things wild and beautiful! </p><p>This Christmas season, may you enjoy and savor the dazzling natural beauty that abounds just outside our doors, even through the depths of winter: frosty mornings, sparkling snow on evergreens, winter birds at the feeders, late sunrises and early sunsets.</p><p>May you connect deeply with loved ones, creation, and most importantly its Creator, who came to be Immanuel, God with us, Jesus Christ, our Light who shines even in the darkest days of the year!</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq3KbTLB2YQszHeeH4IGIuvUM6CcTXGTOMgFIE7HGTM73s-YIzje0DhfoyHt5yvxLmd8zr3TEUwN0I3Guoqp6Qjbr6NnP1mHOF31f8saasBcG1Td0TJbL4jo6zLPC-PUOGgoDpoKBtUd44phiYJOIftxitt0F7hDIpxU0g1LM6tmryEXyjBc6LHtQNCFkK/s2589/DSC08029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1677" data-original-width="2589" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq3KbTLB2YQszHeeH4IGIuvUM6CcTXGTOMgFIE7HGTM73s-YIzje0DhfoyHt5yvxLmd8zr3TEUwN0I3Guoqp6Qjbr6NnP1mHOF31f8saasBcG1Td0TJbL4jo6zLPC-PUOGgoDpoKBtUd44phiYJOIftxitt0F7hDIpxU0g1LM6tmryEXyjBc6LHtQNCFkK/s16000/DSC08029.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Northern Mockingbird with Toyon (otherwise known as California Christmas berry!)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p>And, as a special gift from me to you, please enjoy this little bit of Christmas corniness and cheer: </p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2019/12/12-days-of-california-birders-christmas.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: medium;">A California Birder's 12 Days of Christmas</span></a></p><p></p><div style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br />"On the first day of Christmas, my birder gave to me,</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">A Pine Siskin eating thistle seeds.<br /><br /><div>"On the second day of Christmas, my birder gave to me,</div><div>Two Mourning Doves,</div><div>And a Pine Siskin eating thistle seeds.<br /><br /><div>"On the third day of Christmas, my birder gave to me,</div><div>Three Marsh Wrens,</div><div>Two Mourning Doves,</div><div>And a Pine Siskin eating thistle seeds."<br /><br />...And on it goes...<br /><br /><div>"On the twelfth day of Christmas, my birder gave to me,</div><div>Twelve Dippers diving,</div><div>Eleven Plovers piping,</div><div>Ten Larks a-peeping,</div><div>Nine Lazuli Bunting,</div><div>Eight Marbled Murrelet,</div><div>Seven Tundra Swans,</div><div>Six Ross's Geese,</div><div>Five Goldfinches.</div><div>Four Mockingbirds,</div><div>Three Marsh Wrens,</div><div>Two Mourning Doves,</div><div>And a Pine Siskin eating thistle seeds."</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Merry Christmas, everyone!!</div></div></div></div>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-74340483464102052902023-12-15T12:06:00.000-08:002023-12-19T12:55:27.387-08:00Belted Kingfisher: 2023 ABA Bird of the Year<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As 2023 winds down, it seems fitting that I share a few photos, recently obtained, of a somewhat elusive but common bird across the entire North America continent. Named this year's <a href="https://www.aba.org/belted-kingfisher-the-2023-aba-bird-of-the-year/#:~:text=Belted%20Kingfisher%2C%20the%202023%20ABA,%2D%20American%20Birding%20Association" target="_blank">Bird of the Year</a> by the American Birding Association, the Belted Kingfisher is an impressive presence just about anywhere there is a calm, clear body of water in which it can hunt, preferably with some cover at the edges and handy perches nearby. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPpEkSIp8zlTNpVvwxVpDLkOIIOiYldxKl_f0XkL3rrOHwpl9DHpybP3Orz-P-q_tHJlLtTRO7GUhuz8Al1IBMmLDI2_UXotZLotwJm1jMaM2pefRDSie8pXzaNdAd1RBvVqq4lxFvhm1je8io9CDMzD7VOjxjBBg0I3mJ0QMttiLYPEhupmWYIKpIYbJi" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1795" data-original-width="2855" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPpEkSIp8zlTNpVvwxVpDLkOIIOiYldxKl_f0XkL3rrOHwpl9DHpybP3Orz-P-q_tHJlLtTRO7GUhuz8Al1IBMmLDI2_UXotZLotwJm1jMaM2pefRDSie8pXzaNdAd1RBvVqq4lxFvhm1je8io9CDMzD7VOjxjBBg0I3mJ0QMttiLYPEhupmWYIKpIYbJi=s16000" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>Perched strategically over the water, kingfishers scan for prey, which includes a wide variety of fish, crustaceans, amphibians, and even small mammals. Once a hunting kingfisher has sighted her target, she dives, bill-first, into the water to nab said prey item. Held fast in her bill, she brings her meal triumphantly back to her perch, where she proceeds to beat it soundly against the branch before swallowing it whole. Super amusing to watch.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Kingfishers may also hover or "kite" over a body of water in search of prey, which is a beautiful sight to see. (Shortly after the photo below was taken, this female kingfisher launched herself into the air and treated me to a dazzling display of kiting and diving! It seems I totally forgot all about trying to photograph that, though...)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg2hFamigl2zK-iC1HgfxEh5F_--7p5FPqtOZ_zCqIkESix87CLsQQDtT5-gjKHe1ioeQ5XchBect9nHBO_RtTrn6ERbiLpUFr97bf8A0DRKrtyhJKpI-kIjpC7ANvfm7CLKaufmnHNh5NEhCkuvtGPOyM02g3deImYyTTW-n048wvCqdjsrMtwulrmstVr" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3168" data-original-width="4882" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg2hFamigl2zK-iC1HgfxEh5F_--7p5FPqtOZ_zCqIkESix87CLsQQDtT5-gjKHe1ioeQ5XchBect9nHBO_RtTrn6ERbiLpUFr97bf8A0DRKrtyhJKpI-kIjpC7ANvfm7CLKaufmnHNh5NEhCkuvtGPOyM02g3deImYyTTW-n048wvCqdjsrMtwulrmstVr=s16000" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Kingfishers require vertical banks for nesting, where they dig their nest burrows horizontally into the substrate, excavating three to six feet into the earth using their large bills as tools. The burrow ends in a small, unlined chamber, where the female lays and incubates up to eight eggs. Look for these cavities, which are a few inches in diameter, along any sheer earthen embankment, particularly where a body of water is nearby.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgUPs31nFW2Qg5KSoW8SHjW7hI3B5W4YS5Ka5NnwlSnhHMRNFrvh2KAMmwdY4ol5VPiEdWFdQW1iFYHuxWCot6-UamAlBqYjCECUlY4r8Ej4LW21XpwEMPYnot4V-NgfleLtAWmJZHlYLzNBlKlR_RLLQA0g88jJ0JtTW57ismxVItVjsRXLY7TAWpVrIDV" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2435" data-original-width="3648" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgUPs31nFW2Qg5KSoW8SHjW7hI3B5W4YS5Ka5NnwlSnhHMRNFrvh2KAMmwdY4ol5VPiEdWFdQW1iFYHuxWCot6-UamAlBqYjCECUlY4r8Ej4LW21XpwEMPYnot4V-NgfleLtAWmJZHlYLzNBlKlR_RLLQA0g88jJ0JtTW57ismxVItVjsRXLY7TAWpVrIDV=s16000" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>Anyone new to birding in North America should quickly learn the loud, harsh rattle call of the Belted Kingfisher; coupled with a slate-blue flash, that loud sound echoing down the stream or across the pond might be your only indication that this bird is in the area!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgVDUd3PsNsWV-FgiAAwdv5oBrGvtRXWfkdtxWMQrtgq_nwa_ozXpe7fSo2Jf7tJeXu_Ach7OHUJfboC4EXBOK7R-A1kIRDwHu9lXZZY60lQ4LBfdlgf0bAD1HlfElrix8iOVPTi398n5nNrFZq9GixL0a4PSCfprAigVVu_zUvB42QhFBszLG-GHCMSV4_" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2435" data-original-width="3648" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgVDUd3PsNsWV-FgiAAwdv5oBrGvtRXWfkdtxWMQrtgq_nwa_ozXpe7fSo2Jf7tJeXu_Ach7OHUJfboC4EXBOK7R-A1kIRDwHu9lXZZY60lQ4LBfdlgf0bAD1HlfElrix8iOVPTi398n5nNrFZq9GixL0a4PSCfprAigVVu_zUvB42QhFBszLG-GHCMSV4_=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The male Belted Kingfisher lacks the rufous band that the female displays across her chest.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For years, I have tried to get a decent photo of one of these very cool-looking birds. And until just the other day, I had always been left with unsatisfactory results of distant birds. Invariably, it has been my experience that at the slightest hint of human presence, these flighty birds take off in the opposite direction, usually with a loud rattle of indignation thrown back at me over their shoulder as they bolt away. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But the other day, just as a gentle drizzle was beginning to fall over the gray grasslands, I spotted this female Belted Kingfisher along a small creek. She didn't seem to mind as I inched closer in my vehicle, with painstaking care lest I disturb her. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhwgP0RTLErO24v5OFb4c94p4Kv1GZmn6m25Q8RwjYpPTXhPps8iP67I2HCA5IVx4rU03iIv2b5uxyjQm8n47pdZc7dEjPvENK6mfh1VCD8jdszTCynaDYE15GD-fKmiiZK03zd4mLBvKs5OffL4hnxQrvBBqDkMreG5YlAnm26CP5RfkFE7thT9v_Wdp7z" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhwgP0RTLErO24v5OFb4c94p4Kv1GZmn6m25Q8RwjYpPTXhPps8iP67I2HCA5IVx4rU03iIv2b5uxyjQm8n47pdZc7dEjPvENK6mfh1VCD8jdszTCynaDYE15GD-fKmiiZK03zd4mLBvKs5OffL4hnxQrvBBqDkMreG5YlAnm26CP5RfkFE7thT9v_Wdp7z=s16000" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Belted Kingfishers are distinct birds and unlikely to be confused with any other bird in North America. (North America's only two other kingfisher species, the larger Ringed Kingfisher and smaller Green Kingfisher, have much more restricted ranges in the very southern corners of Texas and, in the case of the Green Kingfisher, Arizona.) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Kingfishers as a group are generally stocky, top-heavy-looking birds, with tiny feet, stubby tails and massively oversized bills. The Belted Kingfisher also sports a snazzy, shaggy crest, and gets its name from the rusty colored belt worn only by the female of the species. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As amazing as our North American darling of the kingfisher world is, the ABA's Bird of the Year is only one member of a very large family of kingfishers found on six continents around the world. Incredibly, we share our planet with <i>over one hundred</i> species of kingfishers, most of which are found in the Old World tropics.</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjMZMyWY_eOA-YTma5LdNrx4Q9keQS_14c-amPKT-GLUiO9cQlKBEDTjJSSP715_ye9c0K46w5d8CiMbylFxaiKtIzXqoAY00-8VRl7Wpv-Hp94JkIGKNc_TlRCueNXi3Z-ahqS6ekfH93ESd-2sG1T7kNHFS9rOobtt_YJ8oiDbangvaiZ0SjOdsTU7spR" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjMZMyWY_eOA-YTma5LdNrx4Q9keQS_14c-amPKT-GLUiO9cQlKBEDTjJSSP715_ye9c0K46w5d8CiMbylFxaiKtIzXqoAY00-8VRl7Wpv-Hp94JkIGKNc_TlRCueNXi3Z-ahqS6ekfH93ESd-2sG1T7kNHFS9rOobtt_YJ8oiDbangvaiZ0SjOdsTU7spR=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Classic Belted Kingfisher shot: a little too far away, poised on a handy perch above the water.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">If you have an extra six minutes and forty seconds to spare, and are curious to learn more about the world's dazzling kingfishers, I highly recommend <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4vU1zMeiijk" target="_blank">watching this video</a>!! Then, go out and enjoy the beauty and sass of whatever kingfisher species is native to your local birding patch!</div></div></div> <p></p>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-33857238510523355342023-12-07T11:00:00.000-08:002023-12-07T11:07:03.938-08:00The Sharp-shinned Hawk & California's Raptor Diversity<p>Winter is <i>the</i> season for raptors in California's Great Central Valley, as a number of species move south in latitude and down slope from the Sierra Nevada mountains to spend the coldest months in the Valley's mild climate. On a really good day birding across the Valley's wetland and grassland habitats, it is possible to encounter an astounding <b>FIFTEEN</b> species of diurnal raptors (also known as birds of prey.) And that's not even including at least an additional FIVE species of nocturnal raptors: the owls!</p><p>The Valley's diverse mosaic of habitats, which includes wetland, grassland, farmland, oak woodland, riparian forests, and even suburban neighborhoods provides an abundance of specialized niches and prey to support this wide array of species. </p><p>Around open bodies of water, look for <b>Osprey</b> and <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2019/01/bald-eagles-on-californias-prairie.html" target="_blank"><b>Bald Eagles</b></a>. </p><p>On open grasslands, keep an eye on the sky for <b>Golden Eagles</b>, <b>Prairie Falcons</b>, <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2019/01/winter-raptors-rough-legged-hawk-pays.html" target="_blank"><b>Rough-legged Hawks</b></a> and <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2022/01/winter-raptors-on-grasslands.html" target="_blank"><b>Ferruginous Hawks</b></a>. </p><p>While also present out on the grasslands, <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2019/10/american-kestrel-pint-sized-predator.html" target="_blank"><b>American Kestrels</b></a> and <b>Red-tailed Hawks</b> are very common on farmland as well.</p><p>Wetland habitat is the realm of the <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2020/03/northern-harrier.html" target="_blank"><b>Northern Harrier</b></a>, <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2020/01/wild-backyard-america-breakfast-with.html" target="_blank"><b>Peregrine Falcons</b></a> patrol mudflats for shorebirds to nab, and <b>White-tailed Kites</b> and <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2016/11/a-merlins-thanksgiving-meal.html" target="_blank"><b>Merlin</b></a> both seem to prefer areas of edge habitat, where wetland, grassland and stands of trees are all adjacent. </p><p>In riparian forests and areas with mixed stands of trees, including neighborhoods with ornamental trees, be on the lookout for <b>Red Shouldered Hawks</b>, <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2016/10/the-neighborhoods-elusive-coopers-hawk.html" target="_blank"><b>Cooper's Hawks</b></a>, and the small but mighty <b>Sharp-shinned Hawk</b>.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKZzMMrhdQZp9esVQYbf3Ylut3ttj0dbHwc7Ce_xXfVMz6SZI_4GwoQ6OR-mELsxpWrcrMi3BmOLuiTgK8jibV9dQMrH2EyFJpCLai28wwk67fMgKrn-g657cAtM6fv8kSA_CUZKaNyfidLzdDixKgLwChyPP17bVh5g2-RgQVU4ZKde_LKKAbN4R8uW7Y/s1440/DSC08660.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1042" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKZzMMrhdQZp9esVQYbf3Ylut3ttj0dbHwc7Ce_xXfVMz6SZI_4GwoQ6OR-mELsxpWrcrMi3BmOLuiTgK8jibV9dQMrH2EyFJpCLai28wwk67fMgKrn-g657cAtM6fv8kSA_CUZKaNyfidLzdDixKgLwChyPP17bVh5g2-RgQVU4ZKde_LKKAbN4R8uW7Y/w464-h640/DSC08660.JPG" width="464" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sharp-shinned Hawk with prey</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sharp-shinned Hawks, or "Sharpies," as they are affectionately known by birders, are Accipiters, agile forest-dwelling raptors that specialize in predating other birds, particularly songbirds. Closely related and similar in appearance to our resident Cooper's Hawk, the Sharp-shinned Hawk is a winter visitor in the Central Valley. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">While they look almost identical at first glance, Sharpies can be differentiated from "Coops" by their large, buggy eyes; small, stubby bill; proportionately very thin legs; and darkly colored nape. Other subtle differences factor in as well, such as head shape, tail shape and size, but I find these to be less reliable and more difficult to discern in the field. While Sharpies land on the size scale somewhere between a robin and a crow, they do vary in size, with the females larger than the males. Large female Sharpies approach the size of small male Coops, so size is not usually the best guide for separating the two species.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibGYNwnLcBv4qWX84Fg7wXTDWxZMczimXreyMuB5sanR_B83280eBenQz_nqPACI4rUQ9Pz-ewsqgkS6FU4vRCl_DKCvWrsLvNzOLlfTdr-WLbokUyq1RCE6RWGSfiCYvOKFU2YfuIrrBBu1Qv7cKZj5gnpDV8ffUM3wXFBUxy3AWDjMJvF-dj8xpSOYQp/s2146/DSC08676.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1413" data-original-width="2146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibGYNwnLcBv4qWX84Fg7wXTDWxZMczimXreyMuB5sanR_B83280eBenQz_nqPACI4rUQ9Pz-ewsqgkS6FU4vRCl_DKCvWrsLvNzOLlfTdr-WLbokUyq1RCE6RWGSfiCYvOKFU2YfuIrrBBu1Qv7cKZj5gnpDV8ffUM3wXFBUxy3AWDjMJvF-dj8xpSOYQp/s16000/DSC08676.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Note the Sharpie's large, buggy eyes; small, stubby bill; very thin legs; and dark nape.</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Sharp-shinned Hawks (so named for a sharp ridge that runs the length of the front of their legs) prey largely on small songbirds, like warblers and sparrows, which they pluck before eating. As North America's smallest hawk, Sharpies are agile and well-adapted to life in dense forests, where they may ambush prey from vegetative cover, or pursue it at high speeds through thick vegetation. They tend to fly low and keep to cover, though in migration and during the winter they do spend more time in the open skies.</div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiIJ0WUlyipDPFAS5f9yJoQ-Jn2SUFo7iKvSpoocCIGNDwXmTVQrrZDF_5pvtiS_boGjMMy795WO-sq5vu7exI1oOxf6om4sFK3HncKndjeN4YOvKlFl8AmKONeCMXYw1UtHe1lnS_foytbfHyJTLg3LaTAHf7oO3qDtVNrtY3ffbbSRvUre7zRLon8HFC/s2366/DSC08653.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1625" data-original-width="2366" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiIJ0WUlyipDPFAS5f9yJoQ-Jn2SUFo7iKvSpoocCIGNDwXmTVQrrZDF_5pvtiS_boGjMMy795WO-sq5vu7exI1oOxf6om4sFK3HncKndjeN4YOvKlFl8AmKONeCMXYw1UtHe1lnS_foytbfHyJTLg3LaTAHf7oO3qDtVNrtY3ffbbSRvUre7zRLon8HFC/s16000/DSC08653.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Searching for raptors is a fun way to spend a winter day of birding in the Valley, and coming across a Sharpie is always a treat. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">If you're curious about the owls I mentioned earlier, it is possible to find Barn Owl, <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2020/12/grassland-gnomes-burrowing-owls-at-dusk.html" target="_blank">Burrowing Owl</a>, <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2017/02/great-horned-owls.html" target="_blank">Great Horned Owl</a>, <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2020/12/ghosts-of-grassland-part-ii.html" target="_blank">Short-eared Owl</a> and <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2019/12/western-screech-owl.html" target="_blank">Western Screech-owl</a> all in one exceptional day of winter birding in the Great Central Valley!</div></div><br /><br /><p></p>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-10599876324279514772023-11-29T15:14:00.000-08:002023-11-29T15:17:32.378-08:00Birds of the Rocky Mountains<p>Last summer, Eric and I spent a couple of weeks exploring the Rocky Mountains, from Colorado's Rocky Mountain National Park, north into Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks. While we dealt with quite a bit of rain and cold weather during our mid-June visit, the birds were abundant and beautiful! </p><p>Below are a few of my favorite bird photos from the trip.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEglQzBJqHjkypKG1p7T6TDD3euginr8hBGzmvs_NUvXx6vT7I-YItz1vRwLhSP4FjPiS0-M28zHyiiAsYaoGJiRNTzTFQaQLLcLuWjyLT-57MFRzS7sJEuzE0FifIy73DAaEHJF5987YITfQ2Cb8SFQ4JCGshQq2hg4CaQ6CkrQmoTsPHww868_FE7ws509" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2729" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEglQzBJqHjkypKG1p7T6TDD3euginr8hBGzmvs_NUvXx6vT7I-YItz1vRwLhSP4FjPiS0-M28zHyiiAsYaoGJiRNTzTFQaQLLcLuWjyLT-57MFRzS7sJEuzE0FifIy73DAaEHJF5987YITfQ2Cb8SFQ4JCGshQq2hg4CaQ6CkrQmoTsPHww868_FE7ws509=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mountain Bluebird, male, looking his best in the morning sunlight. (West Thumb, Yellowstone NP)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhINs96M8bI57OsQpmAa-PvY8RjkWL3rsTxwez_9tgiEEEPJ7esoGOcEzfpzt5hu4rdTmyWVnbp50VePObZzDGVyoLEoFTukw08g5Jhztb3bl-FxENth2bDXrZw5l3nCOpaBkv8tUnQFk6DTaGYcN49ITLJbgcgIm2-mtzrdsqhwZsBSQ-Mv5AjWJyA0D6W" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2435" data-original-width="3648" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhINs96M8bI57OsQpmAa-PvY8RjkWL3rsTxwez_9tgiEEEPJ7esoGOcEzfpzt5hu4rdTmyWVnbp50VePObZzDGVyoLEoFTukw08g5Jhztb3bl-FxENth2bDXrZw5l3nCOpaBkv8tUnQFk6DTaGYcN49ITLJbgcgIm2-mtzrdsqhwZsBSQ-Mv5AjWJyA0D6W=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The same Mountain Bluebird, fending off a Tree Swallow who was competing with him for a nest cavity!</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEilkKVCDsxxThHcHLxBVWsPo_oh14e4bVhBwrVFlPkFvivAe8BSjD1j7l2NXinlK7jqwdtWX0Mb1FX7HP9sGKYQIioW8e_W5CmuPbatZvtfZ3P-Ye-G2tPSwK4RNFOvO1BL0UEVwwwE2t1rlaAX6xTarCX9CzHW2w02ZczuLxc40JKtuAJPnrEZJ81PCTom" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1893" data-original-width="2784" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEilkKVCDsxxThHcHLxBVWsPo_oh14e4bVhBwrVFlPkFvivAe8BSjD1j7l2NXinlK7jqwdtWX0Mb1FX7HP9sGKYQIioW8e_W5CmuPbatZvtfZ3P-Ye-G2tPSwK4RNFOvO1BL0UEVwwwE2t1rlaAX6xTarCX9CzHW2w02ZczuLxc40JKtuAJPnrEZJ81PCTom=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The offending Tree Swallow, looking rather sure of himself, don't you think?</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhLdcauQzkZt3_Z4tqoxYOTmQqlf3JGmyESqHDEAvnIagGKSGV-0HP_s3q3XwD8WgKk5-30xUPW7X6k1tGGymPe26DkRDwmvGW0r3_bxK3siA1GGEC1Pq624QjqKJKR3QxFiu_dR3KAKARr_oHKZEPwxHGyPVG3nhT_03hdsQcbELFs9OlLNnO00zqKNuXu" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1303" data-original-width="2057" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhLdcauQzkZt3_Z4tqoxYOTmQqlf3JGmyESqHDEAvnIagGKSGV-0HP_s3q3XwD8WgKk5-30xUPW7X6k1tGGymPe26DkRDwmvGW0r3_bxK3siA1GGEC1Pq624QjqKJKR3QxFiu_dR3KAKARr_oHKZEPwxHGyPVG3nhT_03hdsQcbELFs9OlLNnO00zqKNuXu=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lincoln's Sparrow, singing away. One of my favorite sparrows! (Sprague Lake, Rocky Mountain NP) </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg78vc0VzafUZ7prMv-PKm9EjkZWvMnu4K_imVkkSgFAGzKATOfjRPPDpCqz0UwHeE95z03L5b1MQso4mm3JWpLWAafFtExYPBZRG-b5a4lKS3U285I2ZfqvARRtzBpMlubH34aCHXoAjUbn__rQld0unt55GxsGRq0TsMICdi3AlcjNIH0U-qKC80VPKE3" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2434" data-original-width="3648" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg78vc0VzafUZ7prMv-PKm9EjkZWvMnu4K_imVkkSgFAGzKATOfjRPPDpCqz0UwHeE95z03L5b1MQso4mm3JWpLWAafFtExYPBZRG-b5a4lKS3U285I2ZfqvARRtzBpMlubH34aCHXoAjUbn__rQld0unt55GxsGRq0TsMICdi3AlcjNIH0U-qKC80VPKE3=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">American Robin, carrying food to its young. Check out the prettily-patterned undertail coverts on this bird! (Cub Lake trail, Rocky Mountain NP)</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><br /></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiGDBN7LeLXV2d9GD0Xw6uT0dXjE69eXahr8Rz7SrAHCEYE7fVUw2UZ20uhVpbzAtdYdkZJAzEJikEh4jVLJWGwjqrsUk6F1IBME8DcoPBAVhAWp3jO52Xpt6G6xC-RS1y22JoZW8whg3LDgsMYi28zdWe0zGlnxU4fJLtYI3xDeK6gUno5GbZlBWVOu2QW" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1131" data-original-width="1858" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiGDBN7LeLXV2d9GD0Xw6uT0dXjE69eXahr8Rz7SrAHCEYE7fVUw2UZ20uhVpbzAtdYdkZJAzEJikEh4jVLJWGwjqrsUk6F1IBME8DcoPBAVhAWp3jO52Xpt6G6xC-RS1y22JoZW8whg3LDgsMYi28zdWe0zGlnxU4fJLtYI3xDeK6gUno5GbZlBWVOu2QW=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Green-tailed Towhee, looking dapper. (Glacier Basin campground, Rocky Mountain NP)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgvqNEO-fiPCV11rla-yrw4hlChJYH9i_IOF-jVlZd3bgbs5VzRrwnj1rX-PbVkWs6nn1aS4KGBMAIq_8cIWUFNTHNicBVgguCfcFnRC7xy2Z5HqsC8zxtAyjpmZgyxHVXQoiLiF6YrVBj_3MI4EZfE5vJO4Aud9RSSg3DKTrzWIkVYJNb7SDkmc7Jws67-" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1206" data-original-width="1659" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgvqNEO-fiPCV11rla-yrw4hlChJYH9i_IOF-jVlZd3bgbs5VzRrwnj1rX-PbVkWs6nn1aS4KGBMAIq_8cIWUFNTHNicBVgguCfcFnRC7xy2Z5HqsC8zxtAyjpmZgyxHVXQoiLiF6YrVBj_3MI4EZfE5vJO4Aud9RSSg3DKTrzWIkVYJNb7SDkmc7Jws67-=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweet-looking female Cassin's Finch. (Trail from Glacier Basin to Sprague Lake, Rocky Mountain NP)<br /><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhFk-EsH86JRsH7D2gBE3MdNrdIA_YB494iNBxA4c7AQzbjgw-0JX1ghVUEX2kHTyf6-Gkz-lu08xQmYZ-lAzPTWIshixQIBXQcNFWnyWhw870btrQstQ_wuAkYlFgIg9Rx8Cr0YYg-SXfb3nDBwsDPrmWoARk7qfB3LBh9f1l8Zwnr67uZMbtvhAn3eeRi" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1982" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhFk-EsH86JRsH7D2gBE3MdNrdIA_YB494iNBxA4c7AQzbjgw-0JX1ghVUEX2kHTyf6-Gkz-lu08xQmYZ-lAzPTWIshixQIBXQcNFWnyWhw870btrQstQ_wuAkYlFgIg9Rx8Cr0YYg-SXfb3nDBwsDPrmWoARk7qfB3LBh9f1l8Zwnr67uZMbtvhAn3eeRi=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dark-eyed Junco, Pink-sided race. Juncos' coloration varies over their range; in California, we have the black-headed Oregon race, while in Rocky Mountain NP, we saw the "Gray Headed" race. (Le Hardy Rapids trail, Yellowstone NP)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgUIzAfY4xQHAKcifwrYjRL9VIPaJJHSFCyLL2oJVN1oOr8rdHybeq83r2OKx_t77sQLLfI3FoALzYM9n95nWjEHkyxfP_D862MXIHpeTFYGhbmWZ_ik4GxPQLtQ2tYfir4XLD_0pz8yIcOyznjlVF_H2olmQNElMkVVxag9sio15JdlUR7bVWdgZ073vqD" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1900" data-original-width="2997" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgUIzAfY4xQHAKcifwrYjRL9VIPaJJHSFCyLL2oJVN1oOr8rdHybeq83r2OKx_t77sQLLfI3FoALzYM9n95nWjEHkyxfP_D862MXIHpeTFYGhbmWZ_ik4GxPQLtQ2tYfir4XLD_0pz8yIcOyznjlVF_H2olmQNElMkVVxag9sio15JdlUR7bVWdgZ073vqD=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Harlequin Duck. (Le Hardy Rapids, Yellowstone NP)<br />Easily the coolest ducks in North America. These guys <i>nap</i> on wave-washed rocks in the middle of raging white-water rivers and dive for their food in the rapids. The original white-water rafters.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhblqg_o5Gyzo4HHTatBk-EunLlY8NCF50CUAO0pEON0BcDdxD2AdMQoZGCX-Q1HUpl6V7qNAxzoDQJm1X8U7W43PU9WfuWR5UMgr8gLr_LceshyCwkq2zLZCpweOkuZ2IVMBzFxORT4I0ChGaaza9jiYvvCuE6F1FzAkGbimRu51zAM4BU_zVNhAb3u2aJ" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="3072" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhblqg_o5Gyzo4HHTatBk-EunLlY8NCF50CUAO0pEON0BcDdxD2AdMQoZGCX-Q1HUpl6V7qNAxzoDQJm1X8U7W43PU9WfuWR5UMgr8gLr_LceshyCwkq2zLZCpweOkuZ2IVMBzFxORT4I0ChGaaza9jiYvvCuE6F1FzAkGbimRu51zAM4BU_zVNhAb3u2aJ=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seriously cool ducks! I just love them.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh5qb3LmecAFRln1vCvHSbdxcz07myCqmXpG6obyglKRegKtgsNzfwtb9dDLpB9-ys-Qcjex7A1Yzs-AJNCeZw46mxymTQ5qdkExXBddZc0kTCG-kh-x_L-m6CazOQaPej6yIjHC5c0UR8hMTT52DVviHeJl_EaGSttS2Q1Zhxr7wXuspSOINIoPGg3PC2j" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2084" data-original-width="3120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh5qb3LmecAFRln1vCvHSbdxcz07myCqmXpG6obyglKRegKtgsNzfwtb9dDLpB9-ys-Qcjex7A1Yzs-AJNCeZw46mxymTQ5qdkExXBddZc0kTCG-kh-x_L-m6CazOQaPej6yIjHC5c0UR8hMTT52DVviHeJl_EaGSttS2Q1Zhxr7wXuspSOINIoPGg3PC2j=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A rather confiding male Western Tanager. (Signal Mountain, Grand Teton NP)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgjJ3J6g8YSkGufyOgQXZFzjiqVEnwWo4Yh1dG1PMhUyndEkz30bYJ5OvCgvi3I-Ay31Mx1TDmFUi5UcSP1SGCYoZtkyyOAHusADv1WZDyBHsIK9WJ9E9gzRd5N-ObjTPnDW6nH7ko1eKqk7ne5YrKp_z-qVj-deQfAafNpcLAysojLO3EdHgsIIlXAyxN-" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2434" data-original-width="3648" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgjJ3J6g8YSkGufyOgQXZFzjiqVEnwWo4Yh1dG1PMhUyndEkz30bYJ5OvCgvi3I-Ay31Mx1TDmFUi5UcSP1SGCYoZtkyyOAHusADv1WZDyBHsIK9WJ9E9gzRd5N-ObjTPnDW6nH7ko1eKqk7ne5YrKp_z-qVj-deQfAafNpcLAysojLO3EdHgsIIlXAyxN-=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Same guy, obligingly turned for a better angle.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg3BcdhSFu8LlJpJLPEyy-7js7m6i5R_Aplfh-mWER6mnesFlFgYMCeDObo4FXWv-poylb29PDB6myGCMdIKepf6uwLtZzWuT9vIRuNUcXFiLwultsCkJFN-OjjazQ7agztBduoOvTUXpxFk_iu6COEQHTljSrnyZ26aXtAzTmHlywrNVBKSrkQHLuPn3bC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1330" data-original-width="2002" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg3BcdhSFu8LlJpJLPEyy-7js7m6i5R_Aplfh-mWER6mnesFlFgYMCeDObo4FXWv-poylb29PDB6myGCMdIKepf6uwLtZzWuT9vIRuNUcXFiLwultsCkJFN-OjjazQ7agztBduoOvTUXpxFk_iu6COEQHTljSrnyZ26aXtAzTmHlywrNVBKSrkQHLuPn3bC=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yellow-rumped Warbler, male in fresh breeding plumage! (Heron Pond trail, Grand Teton NP)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi4LrBAVJRFxgC71DCVL7zTH82d17svltTyiTvZds-FVeRfzv1MDP_VSCGT_9mKyPGK8YVccTvLcxAPLioKTOdP5pAAUL8DRqtZbcbKd_sPtc_c41OtqF9wSEbAWKOV7GotjvkWCtAJJv5HHzCN5Fcu01lN2tLH6CusWFlyBynoCmvRIcLTuAEGr86QhivP" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1742" data-original-width="2482" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi4LrBAVJRFxgC71DCVL7zTH82d17svltTyiTvZds-FVeRfzv1MDP_VSCGT_9mKyPGK8YVccTvLcxAPLioKTOdP5pAAUL8DRqtZbcbKd_sPtc_c41OtqF9wSEbAWKOV7GotjvkWCtAJJv5HHzCN5Fcu01lN2tLH6CusWFlyBynoCmvRIcLTuAEGr86QhivP=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red Crossbill, female. Check out that crazy bill, exquisitely designed to pry seeds from pine cones. (Colter Bay, Grand Teton NP)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div><p>My favorite way to get to know the birds in an area is to tent camp, listening for owls and nightjars at dusk, falling asleep to the weird and wonderful nighttime sounds, and waking in the early, pre-dawn hours to the most breathtaking of all symphonies, the dawn chorus. Campgrounds are also usually excellent places to find a long list of birds, attracted to the artificially-created edge habitat and (unfortunately) crumbs and garbage humans leave behind.</p></div><div><p>While we camped our way up through the Rockies, the best birding spots I found in each park were...</p><p><u>In Rocky Mountain National Park</u>: Sprague Lake (including the trail from the lake to Glacier Basin campground) and the Cub Lake trailhead area and trail. </p><p><u>In Yellowstone National Park</u>: The Pelican Creek nature trail (a short drive from the Bridge Bay campground), as well as the LeHardy Rapids area.</p><p><u>In Grand Teton National Park</u>: The Moose Lake trail (near the Jenny Lake campground), Heron Pond trail (not far from the Colter Bay campground), the Oxbow Bend area, and the Gros Ventre campground.</p></div>And in case you missed it, <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2023/09/tundra-and-ptarmigans.html" target="_blank">be sure to check out this post on birding the alpine tundra</a> in Rocky Mountain National Park!<div><br /></div>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-78003944423843823822023-09-29T11:46:00.002-07:002023-10-02T11:06:17.944-07:00Birds of the Big Sky<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><p>The Great Plains in general, and Montana's prairies specifically, are certainly one of the great natural wonders of the North American continent. And like all of North America's iconic landscapes, this one is also inhabited by its own special compliment of birds. </p><p>On our trip through the Rocky Mountain states last June, while making our way toward Yellowstone National Park, we took a quick detour north of I-90 to a very specific patch of prairie habitat, home to a few very special birds. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj6ruILoLmxLRY4LeKjRuACBdWST4BZyYBQTFNKIvxUxXIdVGKcW8B4FxQwcpdjYFRW9Ih2oQ6pBxO4_C0kgeaWHFlXw__C09bLQqg_jIBmgfh5lmqTJRYMKivOLfeHPAJe1v1f_ipwEZgRtHZ3KbA0yUwhoTsfSyFlaistmcIncJqYw3qgXb8KRS8_x2Kk" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj6ruILoLmxLRY4LeKjRuACBdWST4BZyYBQTFNKIvxUxXIdVGKcW8B4FxQwcpdjYFRW9Ih2oQ6pBxO4_C0kgeaWHFlXw__C09bLQqg_jIBmgfh5lmqTJRYMKivOLfeHPAJe1v1f_ipwEZgRtHZ3KbA0yUwhoTsfSyFlaistmcIncJqYw3qgXb8KRS8_x2Kk=s16000" /></a></div><br /><br /><div>My target birds (i.e. birds I especially wanted to see) at this location were Sprague's Pipit, Baird's Sparrow, Thick-billed Longspur, Upland Sandpiper and Sharp-tailed Grouse. I am happy to report that I found four out of the five - all except the notoriously difficult Baird's Sparrow. Although in full disclosure, I must admit that I only <i>heard</i> Sprague's Pipit, as males defend their territories by pouring forth a gorgeous cascade of song from on high and are very rarely seen on the ground. (In their treeless habitat, many prairie birds have adapted aerial flight displays in lieu of singing from exposed perches; such is the case for Sprague's Pipit.)</div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiHCl0i5Vl1gpL9J-b1icijjwa_OtR1fKIPXRzKosJZPyEFqxV8O5pyBxlgqCVMO77FyUONKRJ-fSO33xXoaEjRiRVbQGgiyzKd1g3cJty-8XjfTh2gzbKZjpHAvryzt2KgUvU-KeWAweogLji1bPvu8jEU68XJRxL6v-l1AsFhZHiO3MApvWeHhdPbHMqR" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiHCl0i5Vl1gpL9J-b1icijjwa_OtR1fKIPXRzKosJZPyEFqxV8O5pyBxlgqCVMO77FyUONKRJ-fSO33xXoaEjRiRVbQGgiyzKd1g3cJty-8XjfTh2gzbKZjpHAvryzt2KgUvU-KeWAweogLji1bPvu8jEU68XJRxL6v-l1AsFhZHiO3MApvWeHhdPbHMqR=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sharp-tailed Grouse</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The first of these birds that crossed our path - quite literally - was a Sharp-tailed Grouse, spotted shortly before it ducked into tall grass along the edge of the dirt road. A second grouse materialized right beside the car, where it was hanging out underneath a shrub.</div><div><br /></div><div>A little farther down the road, I was overjoyed to hear the distant call of what could only be one bird: the Upland Sandpiper! </div><div><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhwIwluKTvMmMJXGOeKpXy7-YcQxCqxS0UdOlj8ELuoTIz5SM4NdigZcnFAEy6KbdZsE7ymjL6Bxa3paiZ2LZnIvhiRRDPvbUIJheNCQWvBuFXHJ4vKnZTmrQvNYMA3ABYKcnkduv9_yDBUJp0EB4mFdFutoAa_kJ76DHZTKhq_Kq2Y30JFsE00u49mgGPO" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgzFTuAjPKxbne2QT6IDXky5xMJC2zDdY0jkSK9exx7dBupUSatsw9KOylreWV5lVt9jWHFPB_K3xISnDHgSaaGu1ODev9wTaRO_IfoEEbdizxAY670XA3PLp5lp2abhZB1Or_rbjuuZNLxs2yK4wqZ3opDQa-BHkA11xGoF19UcWD_FbzyNLdj-xh4JOoU" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1776" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgzFTuAjPKxbne2QT6IDXky5xMJC2zDdY0jkSK9exx7dBupUSatsw9KOylreWV5lVt9jWHFPB_K3xISnDHgSaaGu1ODev9wTaRO_IfoEEbdizxAY670XA3PLp5lp2abhZB1Or_rbjuuZNLxs2yK4wqZ3opDQa-BHkA11xGoF19UcWD_FbzyNLdj-xh4JOoU=w474-h640" width="474" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Upland Sandpiper</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhwIwluKTvMmMJXGOeKpXy7-YcQxCqxS0UdOlj8ELuoTIz5SM4NdigZcnFAEy6KbdZsE7ymjL6Bxa3paiZ2LZnIvhiRRDPvbUIJheNCQWvBuFXHJ4vKnZTmrQvNYMA3ABYKcnkduv9_yDBUJp0EB4mFdFutoAa_kJ76DHZTKhq_Kq2Y30JFsE00u49mgGPO" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Though closely related to other shorebirds, Upland Sandpipers live life almost entirely on the grasslands. Their song is a wild, rising and falling wolf-whistle that can be heard ringing out across the prairie. It's a sound I have wanted to hear in person for a long time, and this obliging male called repeatedly from his fence post perch while I looked on, enchanted. His wife (presumably) was down below, mostly hidden in the grasses, apparently enchanted as well.</div><br /><img alt="" data-original-height="1166" data-original-width="1687" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhwIwluKTvMmMJXGOeKpXy7-YcQxCqxS0UdOlj8ELuoTIz5SM4NdigZcnFAEy6KbdZsE7ymjL6Bxa3paiZ2LZnIvhiRRDPvbUIJheNCQWvBuFXHJ4vKnZTmrQvNYMA3ABYKcnkduv9_yDBUJp0EB4mFdFutoAa_kJ76DHZTKhq_Kq2Y30JFsE00u49mgGPO=s16000" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Upland_Sandpiper/sounds" target="_blank">Listen to the call of the Upland Sandpiper here.</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjYX5iaO49PZC6IO5BVJ2iR3qr-KZa4Ru0jIlexM9zyC9ViaaVw7vuqkv3lRiIHmhL3cWgR9yc5Qq_kGJOOPHpEEcwSlEphg6PRD-Cciv9AobznS45LmgggR_PDynYWXpWBJROUAdNM8tQmqIgT_6EQRjIo1Row-myJqlqBYeLDUdvDKugXs7Lki5enCFnb" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjYX5iaO49PZC6IO5BVJ2iR3qr-KZa4Ru0jIlexM9zyC9ViaaVw7vuqkv3lRiIHmhL3cWgR9yc5Qq_kGJOOPHpEEcwSlEphg6PRD-Cciv9AobznS45LmgggR_PDynYWXpWBJROUAdNM8tQmqIgT_6EQRjIo1Row-myJqlqBYeLDUdvDKugXs7Lki5enCFnb=s16000" /></a></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Aside from the Great Plains specialist species, we also encountered a few familiar faces. We know Wilson's Snipe, Sandhill Crane and Long-billed Curlew from their overwintering grounds in California's Central Valley; so it was great fun to see - and hear! - these birds at home on their breeding territories. The snipes, which we encountered in multiple locations across Colorado and Wyoming as well, were particularly fun to listen to, as they were actively calling and <a href="https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Wilsons_Snipe/sounds" target="_blank">winnowing</a> at dawn and dusk.</div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhYHb9UUVvwVExE3LXBCD8U3r8-_Bp-Vy-vvWWsxLsDsYtJjnvYmT_GOBBCgL0E6mQDYkCxKsHGg45krwt8_BnvEP5ixxgUG0NAD4_O5zqkKb-Qbb8wpBQLwxD8sRkOsYW0lxPVkGynrGIZBaWT11aYeSnKAOpSpEM6cTDkOFnrOj9_zUk5zOH-obzNGUDd" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="2811" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhYHb9UUVvwVExE3LXBCD8U3r8-_Bp-Vy-vvWWsxLsDsYtJjnvYmT_GOBBCgL0E6mQDYkCxKsHGg45krwt8_BnvEP5ixxgUG0NAD4_O5zqkKb-Qbb8wpBQLwxD8sRkOsYW0lxPVkGynrGIZBaWT11aYeSnKAOpSpEM6cTDkOFnrOj9_zUk5zOH-obzNGUDd=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wilson's Snipe</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">While Baird's Sparrow eluded us, there were plenty of other sparrows to keep us entertained: Vesper and Savannah were abundant, along with a few <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2021/05/dance-of-grasshopper-sparrow.html" target="_blank">Grasshopper Sparrows.</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi3EsdzdciUiP9h3VuLu20IWx2XIecdYRCM_Mk59GiLqMpNikP41iEMhDKfxu6ldGBnX46rMjONkjluiwpDwrygxsrcTYIvv3b7bPQogDLfcrJgWkpGjvivv44ugku7m_0sriyF6u3yV3l1Hg8bljO1bCtw9nwsAM9_trCgX7VriNnE-9p0GH8Ed8BFpwVQ" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1722" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi3EsdzdciUiP9h3VuLu20IWx2XIecdYRCM_Mk59GiLqMpNikP41iEMhDKfxu6ldGBnX46rMjONkjluiwpDwrygxsrcTYIvv3b7bPQogDLfcrJgWkpGjvivv44ugku7m_0sriyF6u3yV3l1Hg8bljO1bCtw9nwsAM9_trCgX7VriNnE-9p0GH8Ed8BFpwVQ=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grasshopper Sparrow</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Eastern Kingbirds, a fun treat for a Californian birder, were also present on the prairie, near a wetland area with trees.</div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiGmr-hWTm_q9J0A2jxjGqZrNDuNYv5EGIKZtEyTPTXN12NgOEpqCMRDNhRrMZ-DT3ReYQciI0Gbyrk3Q4wdbzYxRacfdbqfxRogbDcPDV5NNu_3pHBkWGffpVlOAMQ3v4hY4zX3Gj6wtETzHNh3szEHLdKdK6cYolS4j3e_40DLG67TRH7OR9aYRP2n_CE" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1618" data-original-width="2427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiGmr-hWTm_q9J0A2jxjGqZrNDuNYv5EGIKZtEyTPTXN12NgOEpqCMRDNhRrMZ-DT3ReYQciI0Gbyrk3Q4wdbzYxRacfdbqfxRogbDcPDV5NNu_3pHBkWGffpVlOAMQ3v4hY4zX3Gj6wtETzHNh3szEHLdKdK6cYolS4j3e_40DLG67TRH7OR9aYRP2n_CE=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eastern Kingbird</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">And, as this was only my second experience with Bobolinks (my first being last summer in <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2022/07/birding-in-massachusetts-plum-island.html" target="_blank">Massachusetts</a> and Maine), we spent some time watching and listening to these neat birds as well.</div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhhAekfv00y5eyWZCAQEOCwxnsVl3kduLxZAHP7D6jvPqgbimpXWn-nRCj-LlnGt0Zv7zgQctOrjId-WQKvMAdEqf_sKgJBOKrBtexTzOpXAoyocDP337ycMHxjAlSnWhTTE9RK1jwzh4vTO0DEjDLt5DWKcc0tnUMA0aakwBXxO9qfeiBdm8QpM4VAUg4o" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhhAekfv00y5eyWZCAQEOCwxnsVl3kduLxZAHP7D6jvPqgbimpXWn-nRCj-LlnGt0Zv7zgQctOrjId-WQKvMAdEqf_sKgJBOKrBtexTzOpXAoyocDP337ycMHxjAlSnWhTTE9RK1jwzh4vTO0DEjDLt5DWKcc0tnUMA0aakwBXxO9qfeiBdm8QpM4VAUg4o=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bobolinks</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgv-nocf3CYwN5tcXovtoYiOgBG5joD7FXK9hduWxvJe8HLBbtnbJfJOSKsqVgE6_LqbHlTYZA0CbNxGCx3cbb4jdQqGCkUIEY8p4EzAKglEYtE92UKS2z8v53q-xYepHnR5KFn_VaYSCtqHqgnTbLWB1C3qaxH_o9zRxXPm3j4gzJGZO2pGSmSYufy_9u0" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgv-nocf3CYwN5tcXovtoYiOgBG5joD7FXK9hduWxvJe8HLBbtnbJfJOSKsqVgE6_LqbHlTYZA0CbNxGCx3cbb4jdQqGCkUIEY8p4EzAKglEYtE92UKS2z8v53q-xYepHnR5KFn_VaYSCtqHqgnTbLWB1C3qaxH_o9zRxXPm3j4gzJGZO2pGSmSYufy_9u0=s16000" /></a></div><br /><br /></div></div></div>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-69044135136171388742023-09-22T13:02:00.000-07:002023-09-22T13:02:52.353-07:00Tundra and Ptarmigans<p>Picking a favorite spot in breathtaking Rocky Mountain National Park is incredibly difficult. From alpine lakes surrounded by rugged peaks, to lush green mountain meadows dotted with wildflowers, beauty met us at every turn. But one of our best birding experiences during our four days in the park last June took place way up on the alpine tundra, nearly 12,000 feet above sea level. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgUyDrCDb0iAL-WEy8VWlHIsJFfsoxZnL1ni9NKsXsO6plft2AzWn9nOfO6TmkuF5wHWc37lnlro40czVqB4Xzg8hwXy_WqCib9DQnqHcSFZGRahfaXsS0TLjo0uSNWGQlOVr9RQnGnikS4stjiKJJl3_ebzx0037PSbpc8jplX1ptquvWTe9F6-A0dFgxl" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgUyDrCDb0iAL-WEy8VWlHIsJFfsoxZnL1ni9NKsXsO6plft2AzWn9nOfO6TmkuF5wHWc37lnlro40czVqB4Xzg8hwXy_WqCib9DQnqHcSFZGRahfaXsS0TLjo0uSNWGQlOVr9RQnGnikS4stjiKJJl3_ebzx0037PSbpc8jplX1ptquvWTe9F6-A0dFgxl=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alpine Tundra in Rocky Mountain National Park</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">From a trailhead along famous Trail Ridge Road, we set out early one frigid morning across the tundra in search of two very special birds: White-tailed Ptarmigan and Brown-capped Rosy-finch. Happily, we successfully found both species (though photos were only possible of the ptarmigan.)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgylKV12dSy73H4NmIeA7d2OOjKBMduOmerCkGxdbFjjUhO0gGVlxkY9bmt9iHC4S5bDtUFFAX054Z5tNagoPUoTS-9lPV4zrFiIe-ANR-ch6O7Mx6XhldKrzhdf4emetwuTbqgImqSfuvsDvUASFhW6XJlNcV0r6QopHD96kp_1OLvy-qZCnBGJF1bYbvA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgylKV12dSy73H4NmIeA7d2OOjKBMduOmerCkGxdbFjjUhO0gGVlxkY9bmt9iHC4S5bDtUFFAX054Z5tNagoPUoTS-9lPV4zrFiIe-ANR-ch6O7Mx6XhldKrzhdf4emetwuTbqgImqSfuvsDvUASFhW6XJlNcV0r6QopHD96kp_1OLvy-qZCnBGJF1bYbvA=s16000" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">White-tailed Ptarmigan, round, chicken-sized birds of the tundra, are exquisitely designed for life in this harsh habitat. Pure snowy white in the winter, save two shiny black eyes and small pointed bill, ptarmigan disappear into a desolate landscape of hummocky snowdrifts. Come June, these birds molt into mottled brown plumage that allows them to melt into the summer tundra-scape of frost-seared grasses, wind-stunted shrubs, mat-forming forbs and crustose lichens. The birds we saw were caught halfway between, a perfect match for a late-spring landscape of dwindling snowdrifts.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgpqvqA4YU1RyGLU2mT4xCez-xS1gosDoBkbXjctHsLe6ccjLa_GeqExwlgKVIFk8PgvGQP77WV-7-Q1Gqk0bz2WrIq_zfC8YORxeY8y3y0dZIXjX2P_YPpycY1yluNKJJW2LjvEzuIcV0fB3BTbHXUcwHfhG56IWporMEEwspXbFvTFOCP40J8QwmtS8jx" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgpqvqA4YU1RyGLU2mT4xCez-xS1gosDoBkbXjctHsLe6ccjLa_GeqExwlgKVIFk8PgvGQP77WV-7-Q1Gqk0bz2WrIq_zfC8YORxeY8y3y0dZIXjX2P_YPpycY1yluNKJJW2LjvEzuIcV0fB3BTbHXUcwHfhG56IWporMEEwspXbFvTFOCP40J8QwmtS8jx=s16000" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Incredibly hardy birds, White-tailed Ptarmigan live on the alpine tundra year-round. At this extreme elevation, winter snows are driven by furious winds. Gusts scour the surface of the ground, mounding snow into deep drifts in hollows and revealing edible vegetation on ridges. The action of the wind allows ptarmigan to have access to a reliable source of food up here on the peaks, even during the heaviest of snowfalls!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgeMc3q7DGKpamtgX_LbjoF5ii2Er8xUWlfO_zyNElR5Rv9qVKrvQvJOmC8Qk8V9Y9iZ_6q2Adwq71YGzp9O2RViwk41hM-v2zWfN9ite7-OXVKcg4wHMUfRUlyGuKEcAKF8CVtywmDVMuXVyBV5m7tp44QWHAl8b3Dx6LPYCPl1AGmRpbMbCSufiY5Y4yb" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1481" data-original-width="2221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgeMc3q7DGKpamtgX_LbjoF5ii2Er8xUWlfO_zyNElR5Rv9qVKrvQvJOmC8Qk8V9Y9iZ_6q2Adwq71YGzp9O2RViwk41hM-v2zWfN9ite7-OXVKcg4wHMUfRUlyGuKEcAKF8CVtywmDVMuXVyBV5m7tp44QWHAl8b3Dx6LPYCPl1AGmRpbMbCSufiY5Y4yb=s16000" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">While the range of the White-tailed Ptarmigan is fairly extensive, stretching from Alaska south through the Rocky Mountains all the way into New Mexico, their habitat is famously inaccessible to humans. A few handy trails along Trail Ridge Road in Rocky Mountain National Park provide birders and researchers alike with some of the most easily accessible White-tailed Ptarmigans anywhere in North America (or so I've heard). The birds we saw were banded: a sure sign that scientists have a careful eye on this population. And while we were headed back to the car, along a very narrow, muddy trail across the fragile tundra, we came across a group of birders, led by a guide, who were all very keen to get their eyes and optics on this special bird!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg1OKdRk_Z6ZEb8GV6yw0stbBcKG1a-fGffqTBoGgsqDrlZ_gtpc5CxPplP10-1hoLuyvybqsgPLehLt3NJVcH51xrUs8j4eF_XQkgwsl_9whrVtZOE3_7tw2jUMh89vwoy6Npyd37AnDb1mz_YfTdk0G80v8xp8v5z7cVYnjqjAExsvZ30tNXZCG4iVbjK" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg1OKdRk_Z6ZEb8GV6yw0stbBcKG1a-fGffqTBoGgsqDrlZ_gtpc5CxPplP10-1hoLuyvybqsgPLehLt3NJVcH51xrUs8j4eF_XQkgwsl_9whrVtZOE3_7tw2jUMh89vwoy6Npyd37AnDb1mz_YfTdk0G80v8xp8v5z7cVYnjqjAExsvZ30tNXZCG4iVbjK=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A group of birders, scoping the ptarmigan that is along the trail just left of center in this photo.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">While the ptarmigan are at the top of every birder's wish list, the Brown-capped Rosy-finches are a popular target bird at this location as well! American Pipits were abundant, as were Horned Larks and White-crowned Sparrows - all familiar faces from home. Finding <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2018/02/horned-larks-and-californias-prairie.html" target="_blank">Horned Larks</a>, which I associate with grasslands and prairies, so high up in the Rocky Mountains was certainly surprising!</div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgFtSXwiEVRRLw9kc28zeOQL8SViuJMqvlM6pbLwrwV9raobmXrVC809gPvgByxIrHS46RUjFenvnD_yw_hG9sWKFmTEcmmwGicXCOts23zR0ILGa8yT-lpIAttRNX8SBC30sg11rQXn78RfQOz0L6svJcuXJOClSH8ea2o7F6YZbM7sMY7REv-zrHgJsmq" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1618" data-original-width="2544" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgFtSXwiEVRRLw9kc28zeOQL8SViuJMqvlM6pbLwrwV9raobmXrVC809gPvgByxIrHS46RUjFenvnD_yw_hG9sWKFmTEcmmwGicXCOts23zR0ILGa8yT-lpIAttRNX8SBC30sg11rQXn78RfQOz0L6svJcuXJOClSH8ea2o7F6YZbM7sMY7REv-zrHgJsmq=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">American Pipit</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">One must not forget to include the mammals! Curious and portly <a href="http://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2016/09/yellow-bellied-marmot-denizen-of-high.html" target="_blank">Yellow-bellied Marmots</a> are perhaps everyone's favorite denizen of the high places!</div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjeFgz0A7E1WLPVCO4DAl4398ZbOM1fHoBU7QAXSAHjmRpsiPHbEEQKrRS9Hs8gjvorsV1U08BH7OK-8IpVtJWKrkfoM7RqkiCuVkk1d3f9VXOTGpD5V8iTT7HKMMwFlZ5wYdBmBSF_hNKcUu09A_icAXhKowPU2V5v4PjmEPKuf-4PRgcdF7Zo4YJpa7Ra" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjeFgz0A7E1WLPVCO4DAl4398ZbOM1fHoBU7QAXSAHjmRpsiPHbEEQKrRS9Hs8gjvorsV1U08BH7OK-8IpVtJWKrkfoM7RqkiCuVkk1d3f9VXOTGpD5V8iTT7HKMMwFlZ5wYdBmBSF_hNKcUu09A_icAXhKowPU2V5v4PjmEPKuf-4PRgcdF7Zo4YJpa7Ra=s16000" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Birding the alpine tundra was certainly a <i>high</i>light of our adventures in Rocky Mountain National Park!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEirazwta0pnUGp2srJSeBbAzB2I4wJ2ClY2CYojVp8HaRbQ2GMDhf6C7QMXbCwVUmE9UnIc-bkPtpo72G6oER0bhmPBFabJBDrpICIaY3GRSnPHhAceDS5mwnYXiY8nK4abz5BP-91RLxSA2VmQGncO4C2tecww-PD_CzEcnwxhS5XNnF49Tgt4kL5uwm9B" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEirazwta0pnUGp2srJSeBbAzB2I4wJ2ClY2CYojVp8HaRbQ2GMDhf6C7QMXbCwVUmE9UnIc-bkPtpo72G6oER0bhmPBFabJBDrpICIaY3GRSnPHhAceDS5mwnYXiY8nK4abz5BP-91RLxSA2VmQGncO4C2tecww-PD_CzEcnwxhS5XNnF49Tgt4kL5uwm9B=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pro Tip: Wear snowboarding pants to keep warm while birding the frigid alpine tundra!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhcpnI33fAphlyiX0jSPIIfA2nhitFoqtGpmdaM9HyUfXVyM2jFK03G85TxoRX8yjN6L9x8qzPI9KWcS01rdLbDni_v8DX9CkldpsoiHlyefSBpzNHmQhEg1mvvwm8PSPfWTRX9EsKMMSSUBKEUhN-YQIBC8tXd1wKxkQYNkEyMwGgQzvOKFyUOm5J11w-p" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhcpnI33fAphlyiX0jSPIIfA2nhitFoqtGpmdaM9HyUfXVyM2jFK03G85TxoRX8yjN6L9x8qzPI9KWcS01rdLbDni_v8DX9CkldpsoiHlyefSBpzNHmQhEg1mvvwm8PSPfWTRX9EsKMMSSUBKEUhN-YQIBC8tXd1wKxkQYNkEyMwGgQzvOKFyUOm5J11w-p=s16000" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-59113931109623694902023-09-08T11:16:00.006-07:002023-09-08T11:21:39.867-07:00Pawnee National Grassland<p>This summer's birding adventures once again took us east (<a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2022/07/birding-in-new-york.html" target="_blank">though not nearly as far as last year!</a>), into the wide open spaces of Colorado, Wyoming and the southern fringe of Montana. After several rather wet days in the Rocky Mountains back in mid-June, we dropped down into the rolling green grasslands of Weld County. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj4OmnQVsk2GzxbRHmR4kYMCQHARzYVt3-0OHAdRimqsB_6Tqqrx_8qZp1OWokXozo0OdX4b1zd_ssKP9Ztov6pPSS4ZMTe64oYxJyNoSWNdWBCzm26g13HSH1GGzl_D3TGOahRbYXvMBuO94qTA7OQX9pXHt00gGJr0uLn1exvPdZvAI__KGuL7fZe3R7F" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj4OmnQVsk2GzxbRHmR4kYMCQHARzYVt3-0OHAdRimqsB_6Tqqrx_8qZp1OWokXozo0OdX4b1zd_ssKP9Ztov6pPSS4ZMTe64oYxJyNoSWNdWBCzm26g13HSH1GGzl_D3TGOahRbYXvMBuO94qTA7OQX9pXHt00gGJr0uLn1exvPdZvAI__KGuL7fZe3R7F=s16000" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Storm across the Grasslands...</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>During our summer visit, we were delighted to find an abundance of prairie wildflowers in full bloom across Pawnee National Grassland. </p><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhw17fSlTfJGCn6laeBt7c3K_V1XiTgevus1WqM5YaDJ807tZGP5iWp_wtWvgopsW1KMeyuZIhej_E4VKHfEvwiff0fBX7iWrmCM5lZXe0n2CmJjfRZM6mv6jQieqGxjQha4vtpt2WvOS-DEUGmMISU4OIfMsFJuIAiZ3aQnztW1iO4hW04L627aesk_U-P"><img alt="" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhw17fSlTfJGCn6laeBt7c3K_V1XiTgevus1WqM5YaDJ807tZGP5iWp_wtWvgopsW1KMeyuZIhej_E4VKHfEvwiff0fBX7iWrmCM5lZXe0n2CmJjfRZM6mv6jQieqGxjQha4vtpt2WvOS-DEUGmMISU4OIfMsFJuIAiZ3aQnztW1iO4hW04L627aesk_U-P=s16000" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p>While we came for the birds, the real breath-taking experience turned out to be the incredible wildflower show!</p><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhaiEKgZQ7qhFFCLYCig3MsPdn0CICfKhgxhq-0El2R5oNi3p5S3dBQ09h00Q19zitXlTYBQSCztpl9B7nzqRrFgc_XGMUoFanb-op77RJfh1AjX5N4FlH6yXOn30so15sJW1iHV7gJGWdOshrp_Mqx4UWTU7Zu3e3JXfX8ZC1k_bo5quYM-l-PF7bgjEfs"><img alt="" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhaiEKgZQ7qhFFCLYCig3MsPdn0CICfKhgxhq-0El2R5oNi3p5S3dBQ09h00Q19zitXlTYBQSCztpl9B7nzqRrFgc_XGMUoFanb-op77RJfh1AjX5N4FlH6yXOn30so15sJW1iHV7gJGWdOshrp_Mqx4UWTU7Zu3e3JXfX8ZC1k_bo5quYM-l-PF7bgjEfs=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgIJDr8K89wy6pZ6iV96R5NMsSL7ChSs1yZmJxOcA6Ax3nMPaoZSKJ_dkrajqRwAoph9kjK8ErOIk79QdU6jf-aI0DSvdsDlIh7pwPTN2WFNEQfTkAz7pMkGJWlrvVPEI3Lk1EMQNZjeleLRH5tgfUksu8vEWQcLwsr3nc-6JIcl6scp8_44GdqbOCRT8Cs" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgIJDr8K89wy6pZ6iV96R5NMsSL7ChSs1yZmJxOcA6Ax3nMPaoZSKJ_dkrajqRwAoph9kjK8ErOIk79QdU6jf-aI0DSvdsDlIh7pwPTN2WFNEQfTkAz7pMkGJWlrvVPEI3Lk1EMQNZjeleLRH5tgfUksu8vEWQcLwsr3nc-6JIcl6scp8_44GdqbOCRT8Cs=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p></p><p>Signature bird species of Pawnee National Grassland include Lark Bunting, both Chestnut-collared and Thick-billed Longspurs, Burrowing Owl and Mountain Plover. Some species were abundant... while others eluded us altogether. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjgkqha1tNs19LN6dZOAw2V1L7kNfEiy-2_JBdxM26sluuFzlEUWRYTpSA-qmW-gpPGs-uECfG2T1WFIF8S-MwgB2a97DFN8E1icSa3nr3hlWMzSgik_mVQDRQaVXbr4Fmr9VaEj_WOXWvlOONHdpSqSJ4MLkoFkSG_jEQnv3R-UDN601MbagyjFRtZ74tu" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2435" data-original-width="3648" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjgkqha1tNs19LN6dZOAw2V1L7kNfEiy-2_JBdxM26sluuFzlEUWRYTpSA-qmW-gpPGs-uECfG2T1WFIF8S-MwgB2a97DFN8E1icSa3nr3hlWMzSgik_mVQDRQaVXbr4Fmr9VaEj_WOXWvlOONHdpSqSJ4MLkoFkSG_jEQnv3R-UDN601MbagyjFRtZ74tu=w640-h428" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Male Lark Bunting</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><br /></p>Lark Buntings were one of the most abundant species we encountered across the grasslands. Their jumbled song filled the air above us, and it was such a delight to watch the strikingly-patterned black-and-white males parachuting down from above in their aerial displays. <p></p><p>Since grassland habitats typically lack high perches from which male songbirds can sing to defend their territory, many grassland songbirds instead sing their gorgeous songs from the air, flying high over their territories before "parachuting" down slowly as they belt out their song.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgOcRFMfILb8G0VQbrBhGzIWLFcWjOSzm1dbdeEP9EGXJawthHcJK_lX0dYvaE7Yx4IyMsD9BLpb0_NfT3M-6imXA_py4tNAm7YJKzkAKwxU5ZBr2uyj_wOpL5dLgM9xjOzJSvSQlA8UyZh2H_2FIEvzalJ0gfHvC7DlE54kjDCwr0vGkelJywElzJFOEjy" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2435" data-original-width="3648" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgOcRFMfILb8G0VQbrBhGzIWLFcWjOSzm1dbdeEP9EGXJawthHcJK_lX0dYvaE7Yx4IyMsD9BLpb0_NfT3M-6imXA_py4tNAm7YJKzkAKwxU5ZBr2uyj_wOpL5dLgM9xjOzJSvSQlA8UyZh2H_2FIEvzalJ0gfHvC7DlE54kjDCwr0vGkelJywElzJFOEjy=w640-h428" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Male Lark Bunting</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This neat strategy of grassland birds is an incredible sight to behold - and even more enjoyable to listen to - but it can make getting good, satisfying looks at certain birds incredibly challenging. The longspurs, I found, were particularly difficult, and none of my distant in-flight photos of Thick-billed Longspurs turned out. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiViAQH7z6aAMpcR6MTyhXHCF1GD38HkFpL4rZCofB0wMrGBSm79Tfv0M0o7derYkkyIhOeUdiLFf7ox1ER4yXfsmWi79y6GIeQEvI-yuVGjkjQGDx5khf08w12JSQx8ogOURLgV5PDmRNF9kK4PtZ8GXxEgVZIKLiCxF2y7xJEDfTXXyob1VauEU-QbYsU" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="891" data-original-width="1275" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiViAQH7z6aAMpcR6MTyhXHCF1GD38HkFpL4rZCofB0wMrGBSm79Tfv0M0o7derYkkyIhOeUdiLFf7ox1ER4yXfsmWi79y6GIeQEvI-yuVGjkjQGDx5khf08w12JSQx8ogOURLgV5PDmRNF9kK4PtZ8GXxEgVZIKLiCxF2y7xJEDfTXXyob1VauEU-QbYsU=w640-h448" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Excellent views - but unsatisfactory photos - of a male Chestnut-collared Longspur who showed himself briefly along the side of the road.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2018/02/horned-larks-and-californias-prairie.html" target="_blank">Horned Larks</a>, familiar faces from <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2021/02/saving-californias-old-growth-grasslands.html" target="_blank">our grasslands back home</a>, were abundant as well! <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8bbTZ2zcvM19WfG539_njM9RG0jxWewfszJz61UVOUeS_pY1hWBC3JJxalzZAOhRyKGArVEll4FyiFTlD0nBiF755S0N7F5XQgO2WpgwvuE4DqoYP6247rxCOfxpa5q_qp7dfm-feAdHq_NliFfDdfPOdtYoZU6G467H8ZN22lsCDoR6YlgrBjgYQ2HJf/s5472/DSC01548.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8bbTZ2zcvM19WfG539_njM9RG0jxWewfszJz61UVOUeS_pY1hWBC3JJxalzZAOhRyKGArVEll4FyiFTlD0nBiF755S0N7F5XQgO2WpgwvuE4DqoYP6247rxCOfxpa5q_qp7dfm-feAdHq_NliFfDdfPOdtYoZU6G467H8ZN22lsCDoR6YlgrBjgYQ2HJf/w640-h426/DSC01548.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Horned Lark</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We also spotted one <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2020/12/grassland-gnomes-burrowing-owls-at-dusk.html" target="_blank">Burrowing Owl</a>...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgQ5SLXZDOSZkv_Fsg5q732YMOSE6TUnZo05_pyN3pgmsLWBE8j3CjMeAjy5Y7CrPU5PjwZlsh6cQiJQv6MwCNZN-3d7W-SUcDz-j6A3m-mSQbNzf61YuO6E_z7-k9NgYw1bEkvE1YYWrIchwWI1d5cgGi0a7AJznvfrQFeD_XODMk9ujmRQKdbtC7_BIkC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgQ5SLXZDOSZkv_Fsg5q732YMOSE6TUnZo05_pyN3pgmsLWBE8j3CjMeAjy5Y7CrPU5PjwZlsh6cQiJQv6MwCNZN-3d7W-SUcDz-j6A3m-mSQbNzf61YuO6E_z7-k9NgYw1bEkvE1YYWrIchwWI1d5cgGi0a7AJznvfrQFeD_XODMk9ujmRQKdbtC7_BIkC=w640-h426" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Distant Burrowing Owl</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And several Common Nighthawks napping near some corrals.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjr0bCwxwU6_e0EYHIBfUJo7cubttKbzWBLz2eDL_g1D_CrbtQQDX-NGC4OJkpTYjJTILeUweNqFaoZVFvrxE87gtO_ZVVeUwT6XPzUkWSej0F2s7kvNsZvAjw-NT_eilRGzGKeCDgvBy9r-7iGhDobUzsNm0l5erkRX31rYzZKU_iMzpWha7mziFqS8YKl" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjr0bCwxwU6_e0EYHIBfUJo7cubttKbzWBLz2eDL_g1D_CrbtQQDX-NGC4OJkpTYjJTILeUweNqFaoZVFvrxE87gtO_ZVVeUwT6XPzUkWSej0F2s7kvNsZvAjw-NT_eilRGzGKeCDgvBy9r-7iGhDobUzsNm0l5erkRX31rYzZKU_iMzpWha7mziFqS8YKl=w640-h426" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Napping Nighthawk</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We also enjoyed good looks at two iconic prairie mammals: Pronghorn Antelope...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiO1ipW_HVpB4l9ycpxG0lYwlKqPZ3HWnS7ktoqIOGN2fSkkQVJC_pNMK-B8SIu2oDrqFMPHPQvY7z6yj0o5u0fdNuRfjfxz6AQ667BFldApMtieCnmWnTKjGpaJGpfPjWHzjdQsL5A9BX3y4omAbcz3WW-PdqSPCbhJobfUMZ9B1fYQCuBakdFOfH_UPwO" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiO1ipW_HVpB4l9ycpxG0lYwlKqPZ3HWnS7ktoqIOGN2fSkkQVJC_pNMK-B8SIu2oDrqFMPHPQvY7z6yj0o5u0fdNuRfjfxz6AQ667BFldApMtieCnmWnTKjGpaJGpfPjWHzjdQsL5A9BX3y4omAbcz3WW-PdqSPCbhJobfUMZ9B1fYQCuBakdFOfH_UPwO=w640-h426" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And Prairie Dogs.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgM_DiaP-cnjBlOFXuhFM1eJFRX8UIyRc59IfUtdgh8t4EGeb1_UT9_k3lyuzhmFzaAi5ySQt4t3qDTJNQ23sJAtkIyLzY_LxQ9k0E6kcwqp1eT2_Umr2LXcFMiNAsNapBYmWhlZE5-wrUO1ICh4NrjrLRf8Kz8iZjiPWFymznGZtA6u4if4x-Iy5Y6GvDT" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2435" data-original-width="3648" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgM_DiaP-cnjBlOFXuhFM1eJFRX8UIyRc59IfUtdgh8t4EGeb1_UT9_k3lyuzhmFzaAi5ySQt4t3qDTJNQ23sJAtkIyLzY_LxQ9k0E6kcwqp1eT2_Umr2LXcFMiNAsNapBYmWhlZE5-wrUO1ICh4NrjrLRf8Kz8iZjiPWFymznGZtA6u4if4x-Iy5Y6GvDT=w640-h428" width="640" /></a></div><br />And, of course, happy prairie cattle.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhDR1yJzZMA_VBE1EM5ilIvtsopkXp15JOlssg2esMr5KXj2gjrzWG3-DMq8finK8Mqf1WRYBiJ3tkliOvxqzMl3SSlRrsDAkfjfrZmtQHPPSShAQY2wONI32g6VseWxifYZBz7kBnEs4x5nMFAGXzNMh67lRRoLMEyPDR9t9b0RNw97kzFaCGzc3fivlkl" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhDR1yJzZMA_VBE1EM5ilIvtsopkXp15JOlssg2esMr5KXj2gjrzWG3-DMq8finK8Mqf1WRYBiJ3tkliOvxqzMl3SSlRrsDAkfjfrZmtQHPPSShAQY2wONI32g6VseWxifYZBz7kBnEs4x5nMFAGXzNMh67lRRoLMEyPDR9t9b0RNw97kzFaCGzc3fivlkl=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/Internet/FSE_DOCUMENTS/stelprdb5318485.pdf" target="_blank">Click here</a> to learn more about Pawnee National Grassland's birding tour!<p></p>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-2552721055876677232023-05-19T15:11:00.001-07:002023-05-19T15:11:57.232-07:00Lesser Nighthawks on the Grasslands<p>Arid scrublands. Desert washes. Dry grasslands. </p><p>Perhaps these words don't conjure up images of idyllic natural beauty for most people, but for one very special bird, these marginalized habitats are prime. This bird is just one of several reasons <a href="http://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2019/06/birding-in-southeastern-arizona-saguaro.html" target="_blank">why I love deserts</a> and desert-like places, and this special bird, I think, has a special message for all of us.</p><p>A few days ago, I encountered a pair of these incredible nocturnal birds not too long after sunrise on the grasslands, and was delighted to snap a few photos that capture this species' remarkable beauty. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-zVSYthuMwFymLw7uhhUgigdA4O3Wmi_HGwT_tabuMASiTwm4tfxFK2CLCkcUgDt0BsXdlNr8Hhkkp7pFsr_5T_bB5l_DjNu-_ZscPb_oithDg09Qzj2_i89s7o41LN0gpATb0veEWb7aNakBTHmqwNaV0rc8AnApNuYwxytfbKDWqslLddRM63MfAA/s2524/DSC00982.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1680" data-original-width="2524" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-zVSYthuMwFymLw7uhhUgigdA4O3Wmi_HGwT_tabuMASiTwm4tfxFK2CLCkcUgDt0BsXdlNr8Hhkkp7pFsr_5T_bB5l_DjNu-_ZscPb_oithDg09Qzj2_i89s7o41LN0gpATb0veEWb7aNakBTHmqwNaV0rc8AnApNuYwxytfbKDWqslLddRM63MfAA/s16000/DSC00982.JPG" /></a></div><br /><p>As residents of the arid Southwestern United States, Lesser Nighthawks are perfectly equipped to handle life in hot, dry climates. Nocturnal (active at night) and crepuscular (active at dawn and dusk) behavior is a classic example of how many species have been designed to handle the heat, as flying during the cooler, darker hours prevents them from overheating while hunting on the wing. It also minimizes moisture loss in a habitat where water is often scarce. In order to navigate in the dark, the large eyes of nighthawks are equipped with tapeta lucida, mirror-like structures at the back of each eye that reflect additional light back to the retina, allowing for increased night vision. This structure is present in other nightjars (like whip-poor-wills) and owls, and in nocturnal mammals as well. (The tapetum lucidum is responsible for the "eyeshine" we see when our headlights shine into the eyes of, say, a cat or coyote.)</p><p>Without this adaptation for night vision, our best chance at seeing nighthawks in flight is around dawn or dusk, when these graceful birds hunt most actively. In flight, Lesser Nighthawks exhibit a distinctively buoyant, fluttering flight style as they course through the air on long, thin wings. As aerial insectivores, nighthawks "hawk" insects on the wing, often flying low to the ground in their open habitats. Flying with their unexpectedly large trap-like mouths wide open, nighthawks capture any flying insects they happen across. Fine hairs (or hair-like structures) line the mouth, making it more difficult for prey to escape before the wide mouth is snapped shut. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBJCIx_pBGVrEFuyHVNSb9wJm07mDBDDoWw8u1HM785k6-eW4SUXAA3suKzWgOh-OV0V72T6ytxPL5PcRm88frTNWKLOgaH8TFgTPumXO5fCu_YNjMf_B1exmB-sWOF7-FE5kMU0V9wPs-gXi9gz6Av4so3SEZbQt7fNdYBb7xxOn-ppFLxRY_UvgrCg/s5472/DSC00980.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBJCIx_pBGVrEFuyHVNSb9wJm07mDBDDoWw8u1HM785k6-eW4SUXAA3suKzWgOh-OV0V72T6ytxPL5PcRm88frTNWKLOgaH8TFgTPumXO5fCu_YNjMf_B1exmB-sWOF7-FE5kMU0V9wPs-gXi9gz6Av4so3SEZbQt7fNdYBb7xxOn-ppFLxRY_UvgrCg/s16000/DSC00980.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hidden in plain sight: Near the center of this photo, a Lesser Nighthawk is roosting on a patch of rocky ground within its arid grassland habitat.</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><p>Lesser Nighthawks are well-suited to their dry, rocky habitat. These photos capture just one of their many amazing traits: perfectly camouflaged plumage. The nighthawk's ability to blend into its open habitat allows it to spend the hottest daylight hours sitting entirely motionless, avoiding detection by predators and conserving energy at the same time. This cryptic coloring is also critical for the nighthawk's nesting strategy, which is... no nest at all! In arid habitats often devoid of much nesting material, female Lesser Nighthawks lay their eggs on the bare ground, often in gravelly areas where the eggs blend in beautifully with the surrounding pebbles. Nesting nighthawks remain resolutely on their nests, even as predators approach, relying on their statue-like stillness and amazing camouflage to hide them from unfriendly eyes.</p><p>In order to deal with the extreme high temperatures of their desert habitats, Lesser Nighthawks regularly position themselves so they are facing away from the sun and into the breeze. Thus situated, they open their large mouths wide, allowing air to pass over the surfaces of their mouth and produce a cooling effect (like dogs panting). But desert habitats are not only hot, but cold as well. When air temperatures drop significantly, Lesser Nighthawks handle this change in temperature by entering into a state of torpor, a period of inactivity where their metabolism slows down and vital functions operate at a bare minimum. (Hummingbirds also enter into a state of torpor to survive short periods of cold weather.)</p></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOsx3365rTC68VfC3XKV-CE_9FaA56w9Z9Hc6hqciaF0fJkGzyEtMxkEvr3PE2Rp_GTuWFpXcPSmNEkYG15xOPYbglVYpPhsNGlaoPfQ2aM2HFWVv5uAXv0xO-uocXIxr1cC0-peVvoSLYMXnliRHZHDH1MJr91zkwS-s2zFLDgOGM8H8QRErWGy9qtw/s2496/DSC00984.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1646" data-original-width="2496" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOsx3365rTC68VfC3XKV-CE_9FaA56w9Z9Hc6hqciaF0fJkGzyEtMxkEvr3PE2Rp_GTuWFpXcPSmNEkYG15xOPYbglVYpPhsNGlaoPfQ2aM2HFWVv5uAXv0xO-uocXIxr1cC0-peVvoSLYMXnliRHZHDH1MJr91zkwS-s2zFLDgOGM8H8QRErWGy9qtw/s16000/DSC00984.JPG" /></a></div><br /><p>The way I see it, the physiology and ecology of Lesser Nighthawks is just one more testament to the perfectly orchestrated, intricate design of the natural world by our Creator God. From beautifully cryptic coloring, to brilliant strategies for keeping cool in the desert heat, Lesser Nighthawks point to a Maker who is both infinitely wise and unimaginably loving toward all he has made. </p><p>Even in the most inhospitable habitats, He makes life thrive. </p><div><br /></div>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-39127014646544859862023-04-25T11:03:00.004-07:002023-04-25T11:04:31.915-07:00The Harris's Hawks of San Diego County<p>When most people visit San Diego, they hit the beaches. Or Balboa Park, or Old Town, or the many other iconic San Diego destinations. Generally speaking, they do not drive an hour east into the desert to the tiny border town of Jacumba Hot Springs. But all those people on the beaches are missing out on seeing some very special birds that have moved into the neighborhood from across state lines, and now call the quiet town of Jacumba, California home.</p><p>It probably goes without saying that a high priority on <i>my</i> somewhat unique list of things to do on our recent visit to San Diego was to make the drive over to Jacumba to find these birds. But, you might ask, what kind of bird would entice me away from the heart of sunny San Diego, into a tiny town of 597 people, nestled in the rocky desert and known for its "magical, mystical waters," "energy vortex," and excellent view of the border wall?</p><p>The answer: Harris's Hawks.</p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRJuNnCH3yg3zpgV-eGTAGSHBL8d4J_UfRMLJd1t_fAkurTFc3N95xqKSYCMIaJ4UW_NwU0GNvTJp5pgZKnKLmVMUmwc6CsxVnO_tUYzqPUt25nbfsWEaiJUlNjRT3yJt5VzH6Us_N8XgxuT0vSWFdjtAoo7zOprVM4qQjvPYwDkgX-l5wYjm4r2a4Eg/s4807/DSC00302.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3284" data-original-width="4807" height="438" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRJuNnCH3yg3zpgV-eGTAGSHBL8d4J_UfRMLJd1t_fAkurTFc3N95xqKSYCMIaJ4UW_NwU0GNvTJp5pgZKnKLmVMUmwc6CsxVnO_tUYzqPUt25nbfsWEaiJUlNjRT3yJt5VzH6Us_N8XgxuT0vSWFdjtAoo7zOprVM4qQjvPYwDkgX-l5wYjm4r2a4Eg/w640-h438/DSC00302.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><p><br /></p><p>Most commonly a resident of scrubby desert regions in Arizona, Texas and Mexico (as well as farther south in parts of South America), a couple of groups of these unique hawks have taken up residence a little farther west, where they can reliably be found in remote parts of San Diego county, including the town of Jacumba. </p><p>And let me tell you, these super-cool raptors were well worth taking the time and effort to find!</p><p>Large and dark, Harris's Hawks sport gorgeous chocolatey brown plumage, with bright chestnut feathers on their shoulders and upper legs (which I think make them look a bit like they're wearing fluffy reddish knee breeches). They also have brilliant white undertail coverts, which show up well when the birds are perched as well as in flight. With broad, rounded wings that span over three-and-a-half feet, and a standing height of nearly two feet, the Harris's Hawk is one of North America's largest hawks. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJfZnIlABmkEj760yuSzQzwg1T14g_PzsvSwJH0xuNifTFAEFAzWnq31VvJTAt_FY10rDkltD1zGKvtKpLkq02ik28gA4PejvbifVHJ948K3X2fK_OxyIZSzl45kJXnG_Id_5LQwxZ7RR7w0VnOvJybOGksFjUPx9tMKdRXgDEHquj0QcV9c6_90-8-w/s2674/DSC00278.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1792" data-original-width="2674" height="429" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJfZnIlABmkEj760yuSzQzwg1T14g_PzsvSwJH0xuNifTFAEFAzWnq31VvJTAt_FY10rDkltD1zGKvtKpLkq02ik28gA4PejvbifVHJ948K3X2fK_OxyIZSzl45kJXnG_Id_5LQwxZ7RR7w0VnOvJybOGksFjUPx9tMKdRXgDEHquj0QcV9c6_90-8-w/w640-h429/DSC00278.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p></p><p>While its appearance is certainly impressive, it is the Harris's Hawk's behavior that is truly captivating. Often found in groups of three or more individuals, Harris's Hawks are unusually social - for raptors - and even hunt cooperatively. In fact, the hunting style of a group of Harris's Hawks can be more similar to that of a pack of wolves than to that of other raptors! While they do hunt on the wing, like "normal" hawks, they also pursue prey on foot, chasing it through often dense and prickly desert vegetation. Whether in the air or on the ground, the "pack" of hawks works together to surround their prey and flush it from cover, so that one member of the hunting party can capture it. Prey includes standard hawk fare, like rodents and rabbits, as well as birds (like quail) and reptiles. </p><p>Food is often shared... although the female we observed (the center bird) was not at all interested in sharing her meal with these two males, even though they probably all worked together to nab that little squirrel!</p><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNvZqliJpsOMZQe92Jz3ByIlA5EJrm7ti8jIU807q08AFoxyQBwuabkxkSbZCl1eLL5o2430zBPhsM0ZZV_k_ZooE3yEPbyzgDsQEar7vs_4Wy2v-hcBiTH4-YLiIUESCGlws6atjWq3HYqzXtwtDYJDMfbscK4ABVIBNYaM72RzMbE1R8lN0GI1DaLw/s4136/DSC00260.JPG"><img border="0" data-original-height="2638" data-original-width="4136" height="406" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNvZqliJpsOMZQe92Jz3ByIlA5EJrm7ti8jIU807q08AFoxyQBwuabkxkSbZCl1eLL5o2430zBPhsM0ZZV_k_ZooE3yEPbyzgDsQEar7vs_4Wy2v-hcBiTH4-YLiIUESCGlws6atjWq3HYqzXtwtDYJDMfbscK4ABVIBNYaM72RzMbE1R8lN0GI1DaLw/w640-h406/DSC00260.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p>Harris's Hawks nest somewhat socially as well. Although single mated pairs do raise young on their own, groups of three to seven adults commonly contribute to the raising of a brood. In the case of a triad (which is quite possibly what we saw here), two males may both mate with one female and help raise the young cooperatively. Juvenile birds and subadults may help in raising subsequent broods, and Harris's Hawks may successfully raise up to three broods each year. </p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6hcV5thVieof6uD8-NwhqFQccx4pPReb0gT6D6vGOkr4tD7Z3MGvAoRIH_4HLVfG-MW3AhjMFdwhB5ERSbsSdhLCAXSqsOGnDlatIShQSj86iCATOsdn0eakXXSGs68UhDXwIOL38EXsPp7Wo1qGlC0yoZhXScrcBzi7Cc0e1bnbZgxvsQijgcS7IkA/s2400/DSC00272.JPG"><img border="0" data-original-height="1741" data-original-width="2400" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6hcV5thVieof6uD8-NwhqFQccx4pPReb0gT6D6vGOkr4tD7Z3MGvAoRIH_4HLVfG-MW3AhjMFdwhB5ERSbsSdhLCAXSqsOGnDlatIShQSj86iCATOsdn0eakXXSGs68UhDXwIOL38EXsPp7Wo1qGlC0yoZhXScrcBzi7Cc0e1bnbZgxvsQijgcS7IkA/w640-h464/DSC00272.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>Groups of Harris's Hawks are a fascinating study, as these birds sort themselves into strict dominance hierarchies, feeding and breeding according to their own unwritten rules. They also exhibit some of the most complex cooperative hunting behavior known in the bird world! </p><p>Truly an exciting bird to see in California!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1oDl2JI9PKxzjwXMIfOgdPblMxVa6ori4q0Qs9BbudJ7yi5LvhVCs8bJjqJQipq95rfxYqZ73C8gzdCkb7MM6cg_45FYN46xdJ141YAGmIciAU3HL2_okdZ_7D6NetGzYRo_GvqJu3vCbL3mLPWQmw_Jbr4H8CmGU2rfF35vn2iUEKNwkSTo6rxLgMQ/s4382/DSC00264.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2955" data-original-width="4382" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1oDl2JI9PKxzjwXMIfOgdPblMxVa6ori4q0Qs9BbudJ7yi5LvhVCs8bJjqJQipq95rfxYqZ73C8gzdCkb7MM6cg_45FYN46xdJ141YAGmIciAU3HL2_okdZ_7D6NetGzYRo_GvqJu3vCbL3mLPWQmw_Jbr4H8CmGU2rfF35vn2iUEKNwkSTo6rxLgMQ/w640-h432/DSC00264.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><p><br /></p>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-55769352916867632062023-03-17T10:39:00.006-07:002023-03-18T11:25:50.503-07:00The Rarest Bird I've Ever Seen?<p>What began seven or eight years ago as an innocent enough attempt to learn the birds in my neighborhood and nearby habitats has rapidly ballooned into an all-out, fully-fledged quest to see as many of these incredible feathered creatures as possible. There is no denying it now: I have well and truly become an unapologetic <i>birder</i>. </p><p>And as such, I've also begun dipping my toes into the thrilling pursuit known as "chasing," that is, traveling away from my local patch to seek out previously reported rare birds. As a general rule, I only chase the rarities that show up within a couple hours' drive of home, but these are my own personal parameters: serious chasers would never let silly things like time, distance or money come between them and a mega rarity!</p><p>Chasing rarities is not something I do very often, however, and generally only indulge in the pursuit when I'm pretty sure that I will be unlikely to see that species any other way. Two years ago, I successfully "chased" a <a href="http://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2021/03/rare-birds-harriss-sparrow-in-yolo.html" target="_blank">Harris's Sparrow</a> up in Yolo county; last July, I "got" the Little Gull that had been found in Moss Landing. And in December, I was thrilled to see two rare birds in one day: a <a href="http://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2022/12/toasted-marshmallow-birders-best.html" target="_blank">Snow Bunting</a> and a Curlew Sandpiper, both in the Bay Area. </p><p>In January, I heard about another even more tantalizing discovery, just a few days after it occurred. A female-type Red-flanked Bluetail, a small Asian member of the Old World flycatcher family, had been found in Santa Cruz, a scant 120 miles from my home. </p><p>And let me tell you, this little bird's appearance anywhere in the western hemisphere is a big, big deal!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAA1svOc2twrRyXgTlIS7_K-kR3SHCPaks3i3tzbSwUeJ53vpob-ELAiOHbQp6s7PAYUjLmsl1cleMkzdRlJ5JzTc4ueUTnWenzva1wNXSjtT4ME5DqcGAQVsixCyA24S7zJljbdt81uXnwLKkl4ZVkCzUTJ7O__UuEU4CEf9tRhEV9-cahxIjZJFSJA/s1412/DSC08451.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="912" data-original-width="1412" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAA1svOc2twrRyXgTlIS7_K-kR3SHCPaks3i3tzbSwUeJ53vpob-ELAiOHbQp6s7PAYUjLmsl1cleMkzdRlJ5JzTc4ueUTnWenzva1wNXSjtT4ME5DqcGAQVsixCyA24S7zJljbdt81uXnwLKkl4ZVkCzUTJ7O__UuEU4CEf9tRhEV9-cahxIjZJFSJA/s16000/DSC08451.JPG" /></a></div><br /><p>But I must confess: before that moment, I had never even heard of a Red-flanked Bluetail. Though naturally, I was intrigued... especially since it had been found a mere two-and-a-half hour drive away. </p><p>Knowing nothing about the bird or the situation, I passed it off as a "one day wonder" that I was unlikely to have the chance to see, and did my best to forget about it. Or, at least not tempt myself with the idea of driving over to chase it. </p><p>But, as the days and <i>weeks</i> of consistent reports kept streaming in, the proximity of this little rare bird became harder for me to ignore. Even more tantalizing was the reliability with which it was being re-found by birders searching the same small area, day after day.</p><p>And then the rains came. So, I waited as heavy storms battered the coast. I waited as the spring semester began, along with all the extra responsibilities involved for us this year. I waited through more rain. I waited through social engagements and family obligations. I waited through <i>even more rain</i>, and then a nasty head cold. </p><p>I was beginning to worry that this overwintering bird, so reliably seen for the past <i>two months</i>, would soon feel the irresistible tug of the shifting seasons and set out on her return migration northwestwards. And of course, by now, I just <i>had</i> to get over there to see her! </p><p>So, at last, I picked a day, cleared my schedule... and went.</p><p>After a three-hour drive (factoring in a bathroom break and inevitable traffic), I arrived at <i>the spot</i>. The day was young, the sun was shining, and a few other birders were present: good news all around. I was informed that the notoriously elusive little bird hadn't been seen yet that day, but shortly after I began scouring the area it tended to frequent, a mass of tangled vegetation around the base of a gnarled old cypress, I had my first fleeting glimpse of this tiny, beautiful bird. Almost as quickly as I got my bins on the bird, it hopped down into the undergrowth and disappeared, and I was left with "countable" but entirely unsatisfying looks at this mega-rarity. (Also, none of the other birders present were able to get on the bird before it vanished, which is never a good feeling!)</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitiq9Z3Quze3p9IDX74f0K2JzBB4-gf-GyKDTHqwzgQtDEX3qlK0ifu_xbogUbIC4iFhRt5p5y3bvtilnXlfrPIdgluejIV6X9758EFKHqwm-X0f8OFppW7nJ68Y4a2Lo55tIKjO6MqrktKaIyPRFf6Zd7VCwXxsqTEbgyfRaEtaKYBEZa5oT607fNnQ/s2702/DSC08320.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1790" data-original-width="2702" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitiq9Z3Quze3p9IDX74f0K2JzBB4-gf-GyKDTHqwzgQtDEX3qlK0ifu_xbogUbIC4iFhRt5p5y3bvtilnXlfrPIdgluejIV6X9758EFKHqwm-X0f8OFppW7nJ68Y4a2Lo55tIKjO6MqrktKaIyPRFf6Zd7VCwXxsqTEbgyfRaEtaKYBEZa5oT607fNnQ/s16000/DSC08320.JPG" /></a></div><br /><p>More birders came and went as the long minutes passed and the bird remained hidden. Another birder had brief glimpses of the bird from the other side of the tree about an hour after my first sighting, giving the rest of us hope (and lending credibility to my earlier report!) </p><p>Eventually, as the sun rose higher in the sky and began to lighten the dark understory where this flighty little bird likes to lurk, she popped out on a branch, in full view. To say I was <i>elated</i> to see her so well, in good light, and even manage a few decent photos, would be an understatement! But I will say it anyway: I was absolutely elated! She posed, flicked her wings, and disappeared, only to reappear a few yards away. This became her pattern, and for the next half-hour, I joined in as the small group of birders trailed her around the cypress and willow thicket in hushed excitement, enjoying good, long looks and snapping photos enthusiastically. </p><p>What a delightful reward!</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiDGToSHx5_wgLbNQt2XSnMlSHOOCHzd0DrhPFM1mKC1v4ukww2j5L6Jzxh7CwbrJjtPQv4ncZvNJZU-QvCI1kCaYNhhg_JlHisFfeuO09Qoaeq_hgRqBVRiW93YjlCb8PJpliS-5izN81Ad5Yy2qjdtDoLrmCcdSJu91mMfgyoT8IuULfheNhvY6tLA/s2215/DSC08333.JPG" style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1550" data-original-width="2215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiDGToSHx5_wgLbNQt2XSnMlSHOOCHzd0DrhPFM1mKC1v4ukww2j5L6Jzxh7CwbrJjtPQv4ncZvNJZU-QvCI1kCaYNhhg_JlHisFfeuO09Qoaeq_hgRqBVRiW93YjlCb8PJpliS-5izN81Ad5Yy2qjdtDoLrmCcdSJu91mMfgyoT8IuULfheNhvY6tLA/s16000/DSC08333.JPG" /></a></p><p></p><p><br /></p><p>Since this small bird's advent on the central coast of California, I've done some reading in order to enlighten my formerly ignorant-of-this-species self. </p><p>Red-flanked Bluetails are native to Eurasia, where they breed in the damp coniferous forests of Russia, northern China, Korea and Japan. It appears that a small population even breeds farther west in Finland. They favor areas of mature vegetation and dense undergrowth, where they prefer to remain low to the ground and largely hidden. Highly migratory, Red-flanked Bluetails head south to spend the winter in southeast Asia, where they inhabit forest edges, parks and wooded areas. While Red-flanked Bluetails forage mainly on the ground, they also exhibit some flycatching behavior, making short flights from perches to nab aerial insects on the wing. During the summer months they feed largely on insects, and in the winter shift their diet to consume more readily available fruits and seeds.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLFVCAwJE7VAbdXwmR_ZoXWvayqGD6oFNKA5U0YrC9tkUkvT4apyM7ACaZYn8ivLu69YiustUPo_heSSZ0xXVKE8Xw6jcy2F9hMdpa3pfNzAWWfacVQl5wKG-1CJJEOct25gdnoIrZ3aiRBorqhwMzYmhtPOxbsI5tNd0vi85ZuCEhx7wggR-vjp-rjQ/s1776/DSC08468.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1776" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLFVCAwJE7VAbdXwmR_ZoXWvayqGD6oFNKA5U0YrC9tkUkvT4apyM7ACaZYn8ivLu69YiustUPo_heSSZ0xXVKE8Xw6jcy2F9hMdpa3pfNzAWWfacVQl5wKG-1CJJEOct25gdnoIrZ3aiRBorqhwMzYmhtPOxbsI5tNd0vi85ZuCEhx7wggR-vjp-rjQ/s16000/DSC08468.JPG" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p>So, with all this "chasing," what then, you might ask, is the rarest bird I've seen, to date? I suppose that depends on how you define "rare." (And remember: I've only just begun!)</p><p><a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2020/01/the-endangered-california-condor.html" target="_blank">California Condors</a> are certainly rare, with only <a href="https://www.ventanaws.org/status.html" target="_blank">343</a> individuals flying over select regions of the southwestern United States, as of this writing. But in <a href="http://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2021/04/birds-of-pinnacles-national-park.html" target="_blank">Pinnacles National Park</a>, they are almost guaranteed to be seen (with a bit of time, patience, and luck).</p><p><a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2023/03/the-endemic-scrub-jay-of-santa-cruz.html" target="_blank">Island Scrub-jays</a> are also rare, as their population of around 2,300 individuals occupies one single island, measuring 24 miles long by 6 miles wide, off the coast of southern California. This is the smallest range of any bird in North America, and is accessible only by boat. But again, they're almost a sure-bet on the island, and like the condors, seeking them out is not exactly a "chase."</p><p><a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2022/02/aba-code-4-rarity-oriental-turtle-dove.html" target="_blank">The Oriental Turtle-dove</a> that turned up in Palo Alto last year was only the third record of this Asian species in all of California; a very rare bird indeed! And that trip was a chase... though with a pretty anticlimactic ending! (Read about that adventure <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2022/02/aba-code-4-rarity-oriental-turtle-dove.html" target="_blank">here</a>.)</p><p>But while this little gem, the Red-flanked Bluetail of Santa Cruz, was the sixth record of its species in California, it was only the <i>second</i> mainland record, the others being from the essentially inaccessible Farallon Islands and San Clemente Island. (The previous mainland record was from late December of 2018, when a Red-flanked Bluetail was found in Los Angeles, and seen consistently through March 22, 2019.) A quick search in the records shows that Oregon and Washington each have one report of this species as well, and British Columbia has two. </p><p>So, needless to say, this adorable little bird is a contender for the title of "rarest bird I've ever seen." And it certainly wins for the cutest... Sorry, turtle-dove. </p><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjGOtQXHSE5KZ1pCSgesGSuO7rPhmT-4-zbtPaTO8xXJPX0i9EREonDVnQH182NIXNDFcg9KiVm8s1qX85QXsOr0Znu7_hFm_c6erTgrbWNeFYhGLo6vHvIXDTDnxn42FI0HZfIcu-3pb7gQ23EledWMHKZbQsz4kZ2ISUgIv1yMquUPF4rkBfH2njDA/s2119/DSC08445.JPG"><img border="0" data-original-height="1467" data-original-width="2119" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjGOtQXHSE5KZ1pCSgesGSuO7rPhmT-4-zbtPaTO8xXJPX0i9EREonDVnQH182NIXNDFcg9KiVm8s1qX85QXsOr0Znu7_hFm_c6erTgrbWNeFYhGLo6vHvIXDTDnxn42FI0HZfIcu-3pb7gQ23EledWMHKZbQsz4kZ2ISUgIv1yMquUPF4rkBfH2njDA/s16000/DSC08445.JPG" /></a></div><br />Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-41513328765830568872023-03-10T11:57:00.003-08:002023-03-10T16:27:07.307-08:00 The Endemic Scrub-Jay of Santa Cruz Island<p>A world set apart. The Galapagos of California. Ancestral home of the Chumash people. </p><p>Located some 25 miles off the coast of Southern California, the archipelago of eight islands that collectively make up the Channel Islands have been called many things throughout their ancient history.</p><p>But for birders across the globe, one of the islands in particular is known as the home of the world's only population of one very special inhabitant: the Island Scrub-Jay. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi95B2vtOJHP2I--OyqAX1MT4CekU8krxYOpr6t2e1jFgeVV86rb26EtZNeT8dMNR0rtyj3G12t-ZkQ8tLZfbad35Is9QfNDO5Zq8zQR9brBEspUyGwvW0zogDjkJO9LWQJB_s08YMYW2uL_EMhZlXqUPBuU1szkBHhrXVPpL--Ym-XWzvBLJAEC_X19g/s3648/DSC00599.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2434" data-original-width="3648" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi95B2vtOJHP2I--OyqAX1MT4CekU8krxYOpr6t2e1jFgeVV86rb26EtZNeT8dMNR0rtyj3G12t-ZkQ8tLZfbad35Is9QfNDO5Zq8zQR9brBEspUyGwvW0zogDjkJO9LWQJB_s08YMYW2uL_EMhZlXqUPBuU1szkBHhrXVPpL--Ym-XWzvBLJAEC_X19g/s16000/DSC00599.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Island Scrub-Jay</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>Santa Cruz Island, the largest and northernmost of the Channel Islands, measures approximately 24 miles long by 6 miles wide. Yet this windswept rock, rising from the Pacific and riven by canyons and creeks, has given rise to a rich assemblage of plant communities, from grasslands to coastal sage scrub and chaparral. Sheltered canyons hide stands of oak woodland and, perhaps surprisingly - owing to a long history of European settlement and ranching - groves of eucalyptus trees. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrrmk1n6GglcABYYjgvak2PSfxZwWwCdn1kbmG3c-wiyLxIfPVqF64HPFxF8xZn1OVtqCG-hjVMfeIXbz8nUwLFNGiiYNDdWa5uiAIHyJwb0MMzOf2N_MwQe0WKqEp_kzrTPPhgq-g-F1KFv3xRMEq-UpREhHwWpa_wQP0SBLLqPCajjYtqV0Oxd55xA/s5376/DSC00440.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3498" data-original-width="5376" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrrmk1n6GglcABYYjgvak2PSfxZwWwCdn1kbmG3c-wiyLxIfPVqF64HPFxF8xZn1OVtqCG-hjVMfeIXbz8nUwLFNGiiYNDdWa5uiAIHyJwb0MMzOf2N_MwQe0WKqEp_kzrTPPhgq-g-F1KFv3xRMEq-UpREhHwWpa_wQP0SBLLqPCajjYtqV0Oxd55xA/s16000/DSC00440.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Santa Cruz Island</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>In turn, the island's plant communities support a remarkable cobalt blue bird with an unmistakably strident call, the Island Scrub-Jay. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6R4SV42_6y2WeJCxF7MGCqmjuaUzF3aHR4eISjp5q1aJ1NBTqcue1bIobOv8hDlwU050pUFnFFSinZNyoOH0dyOK7ru7PwNCZhFljin-mumi1NygtVPtb_hdG0WO1q0g5Q2bdFAq-qFLJ4Vkni6_PDeXioVmxvgFwWGWciRetNZfUutnmKEs9p2JfQg/s5472/DSC00478.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6R4SV42_6y2WeJCxF7MGCqmjuaUzF3aHR4eISjp5q1aJ1NBTqcue1bIobOv8hDlwU050pUFnFFSinZNyoOH0dyOK7ru7PwNCZhFljin-mumi1NygtVPtb_hdG0WO1q0g5Q2bdFAq-qFLJ4Vkni6_PDeXioVmxvgFwWGWciRetNZfUutnmKEs9p2JfQg/s16000/DSC00478.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Island Scrub-Jay</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Noticeably larger than mainland <a href="http://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2016/11/a-brand-new-species-california-scrub-jay.html" target="_blank">California Scrub-Jays</a> by about one-third, Island Scrub-Jays are also darker blue in color, and have a different call from their more familiar cousins. DNA analysis suggests that Island Scrub-Jays diverged from their mainland counterparts around 150,000 years ago, when sea levels were lower and the landmass now known as the Channel Islands rose up from the sea as one large island, a mere two to five miles from the mainland. </p><p>Though scrub-jays are reluctant to cross large expanses of water, as evidenced by the present-day lack of jays on neighboring Santa Rosa Island, the short distance of two miles was probably surmountable, and the ancestors of today's Island Scrub-Jays most likely flew across the span to take up residence on the large island. As sea levels rose and the islands were further distanced from the mainland, and separated from each other as well, gene flow to the island population of scrub-jays was cut off, and speciation began. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrWZQxFyBDXzr9aLHtbSrdmiJbRfoSVUUx-UzTMOBEj477LpcyDuzGGovYICRCEShy7GPKcv9dimYp9mpVFOyFaVEIx-N4dG83tEoeGoRVIsmRuJ6pK4iDevVkQJVDaXfQKe2KNckt0_pvpoJmt-hxKQVcD6HRL7tXYeSeIa1slWlOfaShYZI9S_SBpw/s3129/DSC00623.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2200" data-original-width="3129" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrWZQxFyBDXzr9aLHtbSrdmiJbRfoSVUUx-UzTMOBEj477LpcyDuzGGovYICRCEShy7GPKcv9dimYp9mpVFOyFaVEIx-N4dG83tEoeGoRVIsmRuJ6pK4iDevVkQJVDaXfQKe2KNckt0_pvpoJmt-hxKQVcD6HRL7tXYeSeIa1slWlOfaShYZI9S_SBpw/s16000/DSC00623.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Island Scrub-Jay</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>It seems likely, from fossil as well as anecdotal evidence, that Island Scrub-Jays once inhabited neighboring Santa Rosa Island as well. In 1892, an ornithologist visiting the island spoke with a rancher who claimed jays lived on the island, at least in recent memory. But since by that point the islands had undergone extreme degradation due to sheep ranching, it's hard to know if the scrub-jays vanished from the island thousands of years ago, or only in the past 150 years.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZREf3wrUYByaw9FPcy0NJJS688ys7s2BvNmhptQvsxo3zn91Q3voxc8uJjw1btvFO4A8A62b5zeJYnWU7gULQghTImx_Oe5FD44NjKHg1UVYOs2ZDSS4xnaOfqp26KBFhxzZeAmhSRd_4FA3IjWU5d3-Q91LKy8I_yaSnOsKbEUmC9NT0vpbuALTeqw/s4224/DSC00630.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2784" data-original-width="4224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZREf3wrUYByaw9FPcy0NJJS688ys7s2BvNmhptQvsxo3zn91Q3voxc8uJjw1btvFO4A8A62b5zeJYnWU7gULQghTImx_Oe5FD44NjKHg1UVYOs2ZDSS4xnaOfqp26KBFhxzZeAmhSRd_4FA3IjWU5d3-Q91LKy8I_yaSnOsKbEUmC9NT0vpbuALTeqw/s16000/DSC00630.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Island Scrub-Jay</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>In any case, today their last and only stronghold remains Santa Cruz Island, which is now owned and protected by <a href="https://www.nature.org/en-us/get-involved/how-to-help/places-we-protect/santa-cruz-island-california/" target="_blank">The Nature Conservancy</a> and the National Park Service, and managed for wildlife as well as visitors as Channel Islands National Park. Over the last several decades, The Nature Conservancy has restored much of the degraded island, which has not only saved the Island Scrub-Jay, but the incredibly adorable and diminutive <a href="https://www.nature.org/en-us/get-involved/how-to-help/animals-we-protect/santa-cruz-island-fox/" target="_blank">Santa Cruz Island fox</a> as well. (Read more about their incredible work on the island <a href="https://www.nature.org/en-us/get-involved/how-to-help/places-we-protect/santa-cruz-island-california/?tab_q=tab_container-tab_element" target="_blank">here</a>.)</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglf9WW52SWVn47ZiY1eUgH_uFSplpcCDSNG7zmhbolu3f079NnCh0IWlPhwdZhQ1um0DT_Lw5IFtAKOMC0yDKrzc-aU3zHZLw9D-UAL4kp6RaYF-uCs2rBx9mPW5SqxUE0-M-mryCQHZ_tQlZrmT5JOwaVFSMc0fzBwlGKd1lPkmRJlKytR8ajP783mA/s2016/DSC00520.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1323" data-original-width="2016" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglf9WW52SWVn47ZiY1eUgH_uFSplpcCDSNG7zmhbolu3f079NnCh0IWlPhwdZhQ1um0DT_Lw5IFtAKOMC0yDKrzc-aU3zHZLw9D-UAL4kp6RaYF-uCs2rBx9mPW5SqxUE0-M-mryCQHZ_tQlZrmT5JOwaVFSMc0fzBwlGKd1lPkmRJlKytR8ajP783mA/s16000/DSC00520.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Santa Cruz Island Fox</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>As North America's only avian island endemic (meaning, the only North American species of bird that is found solely on one island), the Island Scrub-Jay has the smallest range of any North American bird. The entire population of somewhere around 2,300 individual birds is restricted entirely to this one island in the Pacific, which makes the species particularly vulnerable to the decimating effects of diseases, especially West Nile Virus (which closely related California Scrub-Jays are very susceptible to). Currently, temperatures on the island are low enough to prevent mosquitos carrying the disease from becoming established, but as we all know, that may very well change in the future.</p><p>For now, the jays are thriving. Like other members of the corvid family, scrub-jays are omnivorous and somewhat opportunistic, utilizing a wide range of food resources, from acorns and invertebrates, to small reptiles, mammals and even the eggs and nestlings of other birds. In turn, their own nests are predated by snakes, skunks, foxes, ravens... and even other scrub-jays. Pairs are highly territorial, and mate for life. According to the National Park Service, average life expectancy of an Island Scrub-Jay is 4.8 years, but can be up to 20 years. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidFfhyCZvpdGr7a8qfNb9m1sYJjtCO3cArcw1sCmNs1epIW0eXVOTpq2vdqhH7iKcnzglUdMljLVcgJTN2rOj_0w_uO5EXgDOx-0FT4uNdjqYTY97sXcG5H1HUYvDa4hNb1nsWy3ypUe-PqHq55JF152SEJg64qchMAETD_-0_CpckYnFqFY_v2qCXwQ/s5472/DSC00624.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidFfhyCZvpdGr7a8qfNb9m1sYJjtCO3cArcw1sCmNs1epIW0eXVOTpq2vdqhH7iKcnzglUdMljLVcgJTN2rOj_0w_uO5EXgDOx-0FT4uNdjqYTY97sXcG5H1HUYvDa4hNb1nsWy3ypUe-PqHq55JF152SEJg64qchMAETD_-0_CpckYnFqFY_v2qCXwQ/s16000/DSC00624.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Island Scrub-Jay</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>To see this striking bird for yourself, you'll need to hop on a boat: either a private vessel, or, more likely, a ferry operated by park service concessionaire <a href="https://www.nps.gov/chis/planyourvisit/island-transportation.htm" target="_blank">Island Packers</a>. The trip from Ventura harbor to Santa Cruz takes about an hour, but once on the island, prepare to be self-sufficient, as there are no services or transportation of any kind available on the rugged rock. Many trails are steep and primitive, so pack plenty of food and water, wear sturdy shoes and sunscreen, and don't miss the boat back (unless you plan to camp on the island, which is also an option)!</p><p>The jays and foxes aren't the only species of interest on the island: Santa Cruz island is home to a host of endemic plants as well. The island, detached as it is from the hustle and bustle of the mainland, is an excellent place to peek back in time and experience a taste of what ancient southern California would have been like. And it is absolutely gorgeous! </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4TFK2oemcGNn1-tgl534yJYvWw1fwTjoAakFRHo9Wbmv6TFjoijelJ1M3JFU4R2tgmZlw2u-LCnaO_ncIFtKEH09uVOq5uGfvU3L0C07sCq60cN54ankXzzNx7Ssg2UeZD4b_Ku4qcGcbPPLbPGXzsHSyAEYQ7wDKpgia8_m3odT5novL2g__d55ODA/s5472/DSC00566.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4TFK2oemcGNn1-tgl534yJYvWw1fwTjoAakFRHo9Wbmv6TFjoijelJ1M3JFU4R2tgmZlw2u-LCnaO_ncIFtKEH09uVOq5uGfvU3L0C07sCq60cN54ankXzzNx7Ssg2UeZD4b_Ku4qcGcbPPLbPGXzsHSyAEYQ7wDKpgia8_m3odT5novL2g__d55ODA/s16000/DSC00566.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The landing at Scorpion Anchorage</td></tr></tbody></table>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-60825187294508181512023-03-04T11:37:00.006-08:002023-03-04T11:42:33.977-08:00When Through The Woods And Forest Glades I Wander<p>It's no secret that I love nature, in all of its incredible, intricate detail. And it's also no secret that I believe the natural world around us was designed and created by our wise and loving God, <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2022/03/natures-greatest-purpose.html" target="_blank">for the ultimate purpose of drawing humanity to himself and revealing his divine nature to us through his marvelous handiwork.</a></p><p>His glory is on display everywhere we look, from the starry night sky above, to the rocks beneath our feet; from the sheer magnitude of the ocean depths to the complexity of infinitesimally small cells and atoms. </p><p></p><blockquote>Throughout the entire mind-blowingly amazing universe he has made for us, his great power and goodness are on display for all to experience.</blockquote><p></p><p>I'm reminded of one of my favorite hymns, "How Great Thou Art," which begins with the lyrics:</p><div style="text-align: left;"><i>"O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Consider all the works thy hands have made,</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Thy power throughout the universe displayed..."</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The picture painted by this verse, written in the late 19th century, is one of a naturalist, scientist or lay person who observes and is subsequently captivated by the power, beauty and sheer magnitude of the natural world. Upon seeing the stars, he pauses to look. Upon hearing the thunder, he stops to consider. He gives thought - deep thought - to these things, these mighty forces of nature that operate in orderly fashion, and finds himself in a state of utter awe and wonder. Maybe you can relate. He then arrives at the conclusion that our creator God is great - so very great - that he simply must sing His praise.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The chorus goes like this:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>"Then sings my soul, my Savior God to thee:</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>How great thou art! How great thou art!"</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">My absolute favorite verse is the next one:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>"When through the woods and forest glades I wander,</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees,</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>When I look down from lofty mountain grandeur,</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>And hear the brook and feel the gentle breeze..."</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgwbfFSIUeEdRsazpz16hWiqLpBR2ID_0yAXNUXPAjZHEKPivnOBSxkxZg5rJs0h23YzuU2goEh70sbbKcRmWQwcezTTb2Aa6xD1q7FXrejLqQuJBQCJi7UKZOHk35iiw9z63zGGfundl4nKJFGDHJdP4cUJPVqhB_B8llIzTIXzNk7nSgFcFAv58DNDw=s4608" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgwbfFSIUeEdRsazpz16hWiqLpBR2ID_0yAXNUXPAjZHEKPivnOBSxkxZg5rJs0h23YzuU2goEh70sbbKcRmWQwcezTTb2Aa6xD1q7FXrejLqQuJBQCJi7UKZOHk35iiw9z63zGGfundl4nKJFGDHJdP4cUJPVqhB_B8llIzTIXzNk7nSgFcFAv58DNDw=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">This is us. This is you and me: naturalists, hikers, birders, environmentalists, nature-lovers. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">We walk through shady woods, beneath an ancient sheltering canopy, listening to the birds and the wind and the creek, and we are moved. From a mountaintop, we are left breathless as we gaze across the grandeur and majesty of jagged peaks and green valleys, stretching to the horizon. <i>And we are moved.</i> We can't help but be moved, maybe even to tears! We seek these places out for the very reason that they move us! They inspire, they bring peace, they offer clarity, they give perspective. They <i>move</i> us, to our very souls. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">That, my friends, is our loving Father, our Creator God, drawing us to himself. And he requires a response.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">My response is the same as that of the author of this hymn:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div><i>"Then sings my soul, my Savior God to thee:</i></div><div><i>How great thou art! How great thou art!"</i></div><div><br /></div><div>But. We must not stop there, with only the belief a good creator God. We dare not.</div><div><br /></div><div>Consider the next verse:</div><div><br /></div><div><i>"And when I think, that God, his Son not sparing,</i></div><div><i>Sent him to die, I scarce can take it in,</i></div><div><i>That on the cross, my burden gladly bearing,</i></div><div><i>He bled and died to take away my sin..."</i></div><div><br /></div><div>Creation points us not only to God, but to Jesus Christ as well - God the Son, the Messiah, our Savior.</div><div><br /></div><div>The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! </div><div><br /></div><div></div><blockquote><div>Creation reveals to us God's very nature, his righteousness and holiness, and shows us our own <i>un</i>righteousness and <i>un</i>holiness: our desperate need for salvation. </div><div></div></blockquote><div><br /></div><div>Like the incomprehensible vastness of the universe, such is the magnitude of how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, the love of our God who came to earth to take upon himself the punishment that my sins and failings deserve, to sacrifice himself and die in my place, to rise again in defeat of death so that I might truly live!! </div><div><br /></div><div>That is the truth, incredible as it is, that elicits the response:</div><div><br /></div><div><div><i>"Then sings my soul, my Savior God to thee:</i></div><div><i>How great thou art! How great thou art!"</i></div></div><div><br /></div><div>But the best is yet to come. </div><div><br /></div><div>When we look at the world, and instead of seeing the beauty he intended, we see the brokenness and destruction and devastation caused by greed and arrogance and all manner of sin, fear not. God's promises are true, and they are good. One day, he will renew the earth, and all who believe in him, all who accept God's gift of grace, surrender their lives to him, and put their trust in the saving work of Christ on the cross, will live forever with him in paradise. One day, we will experience the world as it should be. Then, we will truly be <i>home.</i></div><div><br /></div><div><i>"When Christ shall come with shout of acclamation,</i></div><div><i>And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart!</i></div><div><i>Then I shall bow in humble adoration,</i></div><div><i>And there proclaim, 'My God, how great Thou art!'"</i></div><div><br /></div><div>When we see and experience God through the natural world, we are faced with the reality of his goodness. His power. His love. His wisdom. His beauty. And we see that in human hands, the world is broken; our very lives are broken. </div><div><br /></div><div><blockquote>But though we fall short of his standard of holiness and perfection, in his great grace and love for us he makes a way for us to be made right with himself, through belief in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, God in the flesh, God with us, God come to save us. </blockquote></div><div><br /></div><div>When we understand that this is what the natural world is declaring to us, we <i>must</i> believe! </div><div><br /></div><div>And then, our response can only be:</div><div><br /></div><div><div><i>"Then sings my soul, my Savior God to thee:</i></div><div><i>How great thou art! How great thou art!"</i></div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Listen to the hymn for yourself below - <i>and be moved to respond</i>.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/tXQpDDcrN-w" width="320" youtube-src-id="tXQpDDcrN-w"></iframe></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tXQpDDcrN-w">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tXQpDDcrN-w</a></div></div></div>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-28806892133666373402023-02-25T16:10:00.002-08:002023-02-28T12:45:58.070-08:00More Window Birding: Purple Finches<p>Another winter storm, another head cold, and another week's packed schedule means... more time spent window birding! It's been a weird winter for me bird-wise, with rain and subsequent floods preventing access to a couple of my favorite local birding spots, and a bevy of other obligations to keep me from venturing afield very often. But, the birds in the yard have been particularly good this winter, as <a href="http://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2023/01/a-visit-from-pair-of-oak-titmice.html" target="_blank">Oak Titmice</a>, <a href="http://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2023/01/adventures-in-window-birding.html" target="_blank">Lincoln's Sparrows</a>, Bushtits and Purple Finches have been more common and numerous than in past years. </p><p>In other parts of the country, particularly the Northeast, the <a href="https://finchnetwork.org/winter-finch-forecast-2022-2023" target="_blank">Winter Finch Forecast</a> is a big deal for birders, who eagerly await annual predictions regarding a handful of nomadic species whose movements depend on the success of cone and berry crops. (Will this year be a good year for redpolls? What about crossbills? Or Pine Grosbeaks? Check the <a href="https://finchnetwork.org/winter-finch-forecast-2022-2023" target="_blank">Winter Finch Forecast</a> to find out!)</p><p>Here in Central California, we can only dream of redpolls, crossbills and grosbeaks. But the few winter finches that we do have - House Finches and goldfinches - seem to be a little more consistent, with the exception of irruptive and unpredictable Pine Siskins, which in winters past have been abundant here - though this year I have yet to see or hear a single one. </p><p>Besides the Pine Siskin, our only other expected "winter finch" here is the Purple Finch, the male of which looks as though he has been dipped in a beautiful red raspberry sauce. And they have never been a particularly common backyard bird... until this winter, that is!</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUgAzxYXpbIKu2C6nHNG4v9BoA_5JbUurOHWG12jtIrOGEO20lGMoDsbDFQW1i0NOCeAKhiFlbcyfQ3Rdep4eOuk4c3kRyS3WjHxAzwJA9OMErck4nxaW0R_GbXBSnokTUkSiUyC4fE-4Oe_MaiDEN2nEw3WFzQuHxNxussyVtB-Bu13L03X-pw-ph0w/s3648/DSC08200.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2434" data-original-width="3648" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUgAzxYXpbIKu2C6nHNG4v9BoA_5JbUurOHWG12jtIrOGEO20lGMoDsbDFQW1i0NOCeAKhiFlbcyfQ3Rdep4eOuk4c3kRyS3WjHxAzwJA9OMErck4nxaW0R_GbXBSnokTUkSiUyC4fE-4Oe_MaiDEN2nEw3WFzQuHxNxussyVtB-Bu13L03X-pw-ph0w/s16000/DSC08200.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Male Purple Finch</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Telling a Purple Finch from the much more common House Finch can be a little tricky, but with some practice one can be picked out pretty easily. Once you're familiar with House Finches, it should be obvious when someone new pops in for a visit to the feeders!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2CYUDpb1pb4qdvODErkblkeW_5WtqVhUiphpv68oS6I9fMU8011lv2O4CQbNkKz_Aax0eKZbQVjoCVSpkeRCEh12gqHD7JQSNNJiCnLgWLNRjyUWrvrJ0lEkG7Pg7SQfb6WpJ3hphc5CPIlGfPuLYZziu0Ip2ULOFdaI7jIONQQV7A99I8kgntD6LzQ/s4327/DSC08220.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3010" data-original-width="4327" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2CYUDpb1pb4qdvODErkblkeW_5WtqVhUiphpv68oS6I9fMU8011lv2O4CQbNkKz_Aax0eKZbQVjoCVSpkeRCEh12gqHD7JQSNNJiCnLgWLNRjyUWrvrJ0lEkG7Pg7SQfb6WpJ3hphc5CPIlGfPuLYZziu0Ip2ULOFdaI7jIONQQV7A99I8kgntD6LzQ/s16000/DSC08220.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Male Purple Finch (And yes, the ceanothus is already blooming in mid-February!)</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Purple Finches (above) are slightly larger and chunkier than very similar House Finches (below), with larger, straighter bills. Male Purple Finches are more uniformly washed in a rich, vaguely purplish raspberry red, while the red of House Finches is more restricted to the head and chest, and usually tends more toward a true red (though the color varies and can look anywhere from raspberry pink on some individuals to very orange on others). While both male and female Purple Finches have stronger facial patterns than House Finches, male Purple Finches lack the streaked flanks of House Finches; female Purple Finches have more crisply streaked flanks than those of female House Finches. If you can, take a peek at the undertail coverts of both species: those of the Purple Finch will be white and unstreaked, while those of the House Finch will be marked with fine brown streaks.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3aimclLkr0GiEuCQNU1pIut4clkpbz5iDWbh5LRA_IGpTFisx3G5I_azlh3aHqU01DLJi6pIzJd4UCag3pw6gvsBjoFb0aj5cmVoBXiBqA0O2H33qNq0-5i5jj4BDp9-OyiGd4TS1gkjt0aII8f6gWnhWHeRqJYglZnI0ML0u5soMSBWfqMAZLWXu5g/s3069/IMG_9365.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2304" data-original-width="3069" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3aimclLkr0GiEuCQNU1pIut4clkpbz5iDWbh5LRA_IGpTFisx3G5I_azlh3aHqU01DLJi6pIzJd4UCag3pw6gvsBjoFb0aj5cmVoBXiBqA0O2H33qNq0-5i5jj4BDp9-OyiGd4TS1gkjt0aII8f6gWnhWHeRqJYglZnI0ML0u5soMSBWfqMAZLWXu5g/w640-h480/IMG_9365.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Male House Finch, for comparison</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In the western U.S., Purple Finches breed on the western slopes of California's Sierra Nevada, as well as in coniferous forests across the Pacific Northwest where their rich, warbling song can often be heard drifting down from high in the treetops.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg31PJnZS1M2ox2BPe7vBzqCva2ozraeVirkXJK8H_Tun9pyMgUvF-sNhS-cLfu6Z6lKVxYAhvCCAsN_1obNOtztxxzf0sZPIwiw42tolHy1pEOJHNrmnlE9v-_zecWhboBVB7tGfBK6n2EqaiZq7UDpRP87QnNDRkydY4LDlOwNG5lKOF8h9EewedfBw/s5102/DSC08242.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3463" data-original-width="5102" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg31PJnZS1M2ox2BPe7vBzqCva2ozraeVirkXJK8H_Tun9pyMgUvF-sNhS-cLfu6Z6lKVxYAhvCCAsN_1obNOtztxxzf0sZPIwiw42tolHy1pEOJHNrmnlE9v-_zecWhboBVB7tGfBK6n2EqaiZq7UDpRP87QnNDRkydY4LDlOwNG5lKOF8h9EewedfBw/s16000/DSC08242.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying a snack of black oil sunflower seeds from the feeders outside the window.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Like other finches, Purple Finches are seed-eaters, equipped with large bills perfectly designed for cracking the hard shells of conifer seeds and, at the feeders, sunflower seeds. In their forest homes, they also readily consume buds, berries, and the occasional insect.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJL7TIV2pouySpoVq9_igkPEl7hl_vCt1JMrzJ56OsIytl-se6MHo_qRZi_w-yWy8LAh6iD39-iluI_s9wi8JlUcRFDbkghWUmkUYHS9nMzb8I7mFqbbMbjDA01VacAGyNIF9Uh-jQU8074d5EsqXFiLgWM2r3Ks3kJBkjhQL8o5vmLkXnvUoyQzBDoA/s5472/DSC08192.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJL7TIV2pouySpoVq9_igkPEl7hl_vCt1JMrzJ56OsIytl-se6MHo_qRZi_w-yWy8LAh6iD39-iluI_s9wi8JlUcRFDbkghWUmkUYHS9nMzb8I7mFqbbMbjDA01VacAGyNIF9Uh-jQU8074d5EsqXFiLgWM2r3Ks3kJBkjhQL8o5vmLkXnvUoyQzBDoA/s16000/DSC08192.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Male Purple Finch, sheltering from the rain in the ceanothus outside the kitchen window!</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Until spring comes and these two head back up to the mountains, it looks like they'll be pretty content hanging out in the trees and shrubs around our yard! What a beautiful bird to watch from the kitchen window, huh?</div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifPQ0MzIRhHmxyFxoKgnVO6hHqmrUPTUggVjCdgIDQ3g5ucJy73WGW4FfCgqfssu0mcH6E0kyVrs-_WhswfuoQ6x2ce2HhtDKISFq9GE_C751uZvCPi9AxUrUWpRFp7NQaPmLPSWVZyBc9KslYJSEwx_LngVKZXNgAcF57av0UDgdfamRM84rQFRwSAA/s5472/DSC08255.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifPQ0MzIRhHmxyFxoKgnVO6hHqmrUPTUggVjCdgIDQ3g5ucJy73WGW4FfCgqfssu0mcH6E0kyVrs-_WhswfuoQ6x2ce2HhtDKISFq9GE_C751uZvCPi9AxUrUWpRFp7NQaPmLPSWVZyBc9KslYJSEwx_LngVKZXNgAcF57av0UDgdfamRM84rQFRwSAA/w640-h426/DSC08255.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Female Purple Finch, showing off her striking facial pattern - a dead giveaway that this is not a House Finch!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-40050394517409319462023-01-25T15:12:00.000-08:002023-01-25T15:12:14.481-08:00Adventures in Window Birding<p>When less-than-favorable weather conditions and the general routine tasks of daily life prevent me from getting out into the field as often as I would like, the birds that hang around our garden are an absolute delight: a literal God-send, in my opinion! To be able to glance out the window and see the beautiful abundance of life on display in an array of winged creatures is a wonderful blessing. </p><p>In addition to the <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2023/01/a-visit-from-pair-of-oak-titmice.html" target="_blank">Oak Titmice</a> that have been hanging around outside the windows lately, here are a few more of my feathered friends, whose presence never fails to cheer and entertain.</p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf7ay970-IPFxAgnKq8cm3l5x89lEUVn8ZUphAYjKOES1iE9yZlLJ7PktWPWw56RvWs4GsV1DGLr4s66g4MUi_F83X3u3pT76RJJoLof1YC6i_Eoge8cG4Vfv8Odl1FjgGvDggImgxqnH4gmlVbrJVEaPKnA0Ti8dqQu0e-C6_eBMnnz2s3GvsjaJH1Q/s4300/DSC07955.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2674" data-original-width="4300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf7ay970-IPFxAgnKq8cm3l5x89lEUVn8ZUphAYjKOES1iE9yZlLJ7PktWPWw56RvWs4GsV1DGLr4s66g4MUi_F83X3u3pT76RJJoLof1YC6i_Eoge8cG4Vfv8Odl1FjgGvDggImgxqnH4gmlVbrJVEaPKnA0Ti8dqQu0e-C6_eBMnnz2s3GvsjaJH1Q/s16000/DSC07955.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anna's Hummingbird</td></tr></tbody></table></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Several Anna's Hummingbirds can be counted on to liven up the garden with their feisty presence year-round. They visit hummingbird feeders, strategically placed outside the windows, as well as swaths of flowering plants offering enticing nectar-rich blooms these little gems can't resist! Here, this male Anna's Hummingbird perches on a cluster of dogwood buds... his favored perch for defending one of "his" feeders!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Learn more about these incredible hummingbirds in <a href="http://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2017/01/annas-hummingbird-unlikely-mountaineer.html" target="_blank">this [slightly older] post</a>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwj9MRo1kvIyxa7NcLuIXKpvguLjN2j00I7_1iuZyP1CvKqWuVFHBZAzcaKjx66A7rhBonwVcUW-cKE103x4kAlg7Ao9JCTYWS0csFxLO4AvhoyDgzCY_zZhB1MkUf0rmiOG2_DGhkH8t4Nm55U-qQHtaTtyDZ7H3RoAo8EUgDrVDRRDNfFJYh8O7iFA/s3113/DSC07927.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1941" data-original-width="3113" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwj9MRo1kvIyxa7NcLuIXKpvguLjN2j00I7_1iuZyP1CvKqWuVFHBZAzcaKjx66A7rhBonwVcUW-cKE103x4kAlg7Ao9JCTYWS0csFxLO4AvhoyDgzCY_zZhB1MkUf0rmiOG2_DGhkH8t4Nm55U-qQHtaTtyDZ7H3RoAo8EUgDrVDRRDNfFJYh8O7iFA/s16000/DSC07927.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anna's Hummingbird</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><br />Another very special backyard visitor, this Lincoln's Sparrow is one of two that have been making themselves at home in the shrubbery outside the kitchen window this winter. Typically skulkers that can be difficult to get a satisfying look at, it's thrilling to look up from washing dishes and see this sweet face!<div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2969" data-original-width="4622" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRIwd0u0G9k7VdJHS94qF7p-dlo-NgMnYF1WG70MY66HjxoUl9DiYObJ7E0C6itcLZYiaH0LoMDYIYks3XpQWhVXtpKsCdg6LCtoAISvjqvc3ANdtig04qUedxBc9YRW2vwZH7uii7RgWaRT-21PI4aNu7tz4PDI2j8iuHkpavBcYRDHZ7NCdcXlrZHA/s16000/DSC07963.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lincoln's Sparrow</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRIwd0u0G9k7VdJHS94qF7p-dlo-NgMnYF1WG70MY66HjxoUl9DiYObJ7E0C6itcLZYiaH0LoMDYIYks3XpQWhVXtpKsCdg6LCtoAISvjqvc3ANdtig04qUedxBc9YRW2vwZH7uii7RgWaRT-21PI4aNu7tz4PDI2j8iuHkpavBcYRDHZ7NCdcXlrZHA/s4622/DSC07963.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div></div><div>For more about the Central Valley's wide array of local sparrow species, <a href="http://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2021/12/sparrows-sparrows-everywhere.html" target="_blank">check out this article</a>.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRIwd0u0G9k7VdJHS94qF7p-dlo-NgMnYF1WG70MY66HjxoUl9DiYObJ7E0C6itcLZYiaH0LoMDYIYks3XpQWhVXtpKsCdg6LCtoAISvjqvc3ANdtig04qUedxBc9YRW2vwZH7uii7RgWaRT-21PI4aNu7tz4PDI2j8iuHkpavBcYRDHZ7NCdcXlrZHA/s4622/DSC07963.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>No backyard bird garden would be compete without a flock of goldfinches. While the American Goldfinches and <a href="https://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2020/01/pine-siskins-in-my-very-own-backyard.html" target="_blank">Pine Siskins</a> have been largely absent so far this winter, the lemon-yellow Lesser Goldfinches are always around in decent numbers throughout the year. During a recent rainstorm, this little guy spent a while perched in a shrub right outside the window, feathers fully floofed as he attempted to shelter out of the way of the elements.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZJzJ2yMOY66py3uD-SEut2aIQm0p7W3B3l-1JfuVGHOULasli7q4AAiyRPpmmR88KYy7qqjtY4eeaA8grvMftuM5yctkbM0Y-G3AtykgZj7yhEAvTVlc4P46qTFhTHiU9wTF4C5SUqKNFAh93IyVJ7oSJJSS3zSKDOxuGAYH-ekCms29XYZ4yAKBkbg/s5472/DSC07976.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZJzJ2yMOY66py3uD-SEut2aIQm0p7W3B3l-1JfuVGHOULasli7q4AAiyRPpmmR88KYy7qqjtY4eeaA8grvMftuM5yctkbM0Y-G3AtykgZj7yhEAvTVlc4P46qTFhTHiU9wTF4C5SUqKNFAh93IyVJ7oSJJSS3zSKDOxuGAYH-ekCms29XYZ4yAKBkbg/s16000/DSC07976.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lesser Goldfinch</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Learn more about Lesser Goldfinches in <a href="http://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2018/01/lesser-goldfinches.html" target="_blank">another [slightly older] post</a>!</div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiGnjTFrOcLKBtzH3xiUCFZAsLQNy1jFSAVJvWeY1ysxiWqXppcjIxfU1vWUZbARtwLm_UZxUZlk6rhlU5l36g5XGDj1DnDyHrFvZJ9iag8u8-sLwO9iPr6YSrId8coOvcgRk_LSrdauuYSDQJ-73h7_vdEFk-A7JlnOYQh5poE9IGZ7F-Zq-s2WgWDg/s5472/DSC07997.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiGnjTFrOcLKBtzH3xiUCFZAsLQNy1jFSAVJvWeY1ysxiWqXppcjIxfU1vWUZbARtwLm_UZxUZlk6rhlU5l36g5XGDj1DnDyHrFvZJ9iag8u8-sLwO9iPr6YSrId8coOvcgRk_LSrdauuYSDQJ-73h7_vdEFk-A7JlnOYQh5poE9IGZ7F-Zq-s2WgWDg/s16000/DSC07997.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lesser Goldfinch</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div>Have a peek out your own window: you might be surprised - and delighted - by what you find there!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;">*Disclaimer: All photos were taken through my less-than-squeaky-clean windows!!*</span></div>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2830232140950152289.post-51899476551944813332023-01-11T13:28:00.008-08:002023-01-11T13:44:11.749-08:00A Visit From a Pair of Oak Titmice<p>The gray, stormy days of January have been livened up lately by the continued presence of a pair of Oak Titmice that have been hanging out around our yard and frequenting our birdfeeders. I wrote about these feisty little mites of the oak woodlands <a href="http://natural-history-journal.blogspot.com/2018/01/oak-titmouse-voice-and-soul-of-oak.html" target="_blank">a few years ago</a>, but only recently have they shown up in our neighborhood.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjttf78z7Irnla6CX69UpM_gjfLrJKLThM1_5ovWWPa1KASqZFbiEU55sGjCEgUvnyEOL5h4OFznCRRnkCHCFxvyBqXaR3rM9OK2Zz08-HCDMTpJemtmP9ywfmgR2hPhO4luwwTwOtdG1mxuvXhlnhFbVcLiX8DQJpJ-gBy3vvd48GPQmud-4zRJX4-yw/s3648/DSC07912.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2434" data-original-width="3648" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjttf78z7Irnla6CX69UpM_gjfLrJKLThM1_5ovWWPa1KASqZFbiEU55sGjCEgUvnyEOL5h4OFznCRRnkCHCFxvyBqXaR3rM9OK2Zz08-HCDMTpJemtmP9ywfmgR2hPhO4luwwTwOtdG1mxuvXhlnhFbVcLiX8DQJpJ-gBy3vvd48GPQmud-4zRJX4-yw/s16000/DSC07912.JPG" /></a></div><br /><p>While some describe them as plain or drab, I think Oak Titmice are endearing - and full of lively energy! This pair is routinely seen nabbing sunflower seeds from our feeders before flying off to perch in a tree or shrub where they hold the seed between their feet and hammer it open with their stout bills. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitmQiUS4igsyLJkwy9IQcF5jIrMk4kqD85cIYB4WMvQLedvRIubV8BCCOjXNIYQ6x3X1SeJGD1o_fMISKSlEyH9ht3KME4ZUXnTrsk44IRNullOxYjRfqGIS_nVUSH6m25P7IQBTQKLBehiRkx-sVnCgUr8YipYOXDTHV2RIz7ZZhIQT7wHOWSXK2kaw/s5472/DSC07896.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitmQiUS4igsyLJkwy9IQcF5jIrMk4kqD85cIYB4WMvQLedvRIubV8BCCOjXNIYQ6x3X1SeJGD1o_fMISKSlEyH9ht3KME4ZUXnTrsk44IRNullOxYjRfqGIS_nVUSH6m25P7IQBTQKLBehiRkx-sVnCgUr8YipYOXDTHV2RIz7ZZhIQT7wHOWSXK2kaw/s16000/DSC07896.JPG" /></a></div><br /><p>I suspect these two little birds were drawn to our neighborhood by an abundance of mistletoe in a nearby ash tree - and enticed to stay by the steady supply of sunflower seeds in our feeders! In any case, they are a delight to watch and a welcome addition to the usual sparrows, finches and doves that call our yard home.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYL-4C5J6HO2QYgPLaYgQLFgWt-QA39oNuw7L9gaRPNmkLbPL5quzf5FbjZkmYJ_Zra-0Yq6S4pqbJXyckaa9Gn2n8hJs54UiXx1odfIP98EIf_AWQL5BVT9b9e5yy28D4kBbM2fjDYKPzJ9JtiZfjGkjsNrqHGQETwAVuP2zfXVteCdwN58ngJbvOrw/s5472/DSC07922.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYL-4C5J6HO2QYgPLaYgQLFgWt-QA39oNuw7L9gaRPNmkLbPL5quzf5FbjZkmYJ_Zra-0Yq6S4pqbJXyckaa9Gn2n8hJs54UiXx1odfIP98EIf_AWQL5BVT9b9e5yy28D4kBbM2fjDYKPzJ9JtiZfjGkjsNrqHGQETwAVuP2zfXVteCdwN58ngJbvOrw/s16000/DSC07922.JPG" /></a></div><br /><p>Hopefully they stick around for a while!! A yard with titmice - or any type of chickadee or chickadee-relative - is never boring!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI7ujHRr7n_KlmCoG8rKcjuGZ9Tfnd13rPyDkwWs-qaLyoa_ksWOF1DBQ-YAXBo60ZMuFyzIjK3lRLEGENXrTQ7gBzON9rYKcEG2L4aYmLprEaOJwgHQWT5QHkE78DZROftSUjUOfLAUz9CF11X9jb7Ib92sN6luNF4bLnlZHlDsV5mwcfl0mjgWGBbg/s4526/DSC07880.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2928" data-original-width="4526" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI7ujHRr7n_KlmCoG8rKcjuGZ9Tfnd13rPyDkwWs-qaLyoa_ksWOF1DBQ-YAXBo60ZMuFyzIjK3lRLEGENXrTQ7gBzON9rYKcEG2L4aYmLprEaOJwgHQWT5QHkE78DZROftSUjUOfLAUz9CF11X9jb7Ib92sN6luNF4bLnlZHlDsV5mwcfl0mjgWGBbg/s16000/DSC07880.JPG" /></a></div><p><br /></p>Siera Nystromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13858773211829855612noreply@blogger.com0