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Sunday, December 2, 2012
Twas a November to Remember
December was a sweet month for me. 3 Lifers which puts me at 410, which was my goal for the year anyways, Cave Swallow and Citrine Wagtail are about as wicked as it gets for rarities at this time of year, and of course the Fulmar. Heres hoping its a December to Remember too.
Dogs suck
There's a spot along 72nd street and boundary bay that's always caught my imagination. It borders the Airport road, and for the longest time it seemed like it was private property. I always recall there always seemed to be movie shoots going on. I hadn't been around in a while so when I drove by it last, it seemed it had been converted into a dog park. Shitty luck for birders as compared to the rest of the area there is alot of dense brush and large trees which would be perfect for roosting owls.
I figured I would try and get up super early to beat the dog walkers and maybe see a Long-eared Owl or something exciting.
Well I forgot in Vancouver, no matter how early you get somewhere, there's gonna be someone else there first. Nevertheless I still went exploring, and it really is amazing habitat. I don't know why it wasn't turned into a bird sanctuary, its not like it would matter anyways, Off leash dogs seem to be at every other bird sanctuary anyways.
I found a Great Horned Owl dozing at sunrise, the light was pretty terrible for any great shots, but still nothing beats the excitement of finding an owl hidden in the trees.
I got accosted by a couple greyhounds, which wasn't the worst experience, because they are really the only dog I like, afterwards I went to the end of 72nd to look for the Palm Warbler that had been reported, I walked in between the pump house and 72nd st 3 times. There were plenty of Yellow rumps, flycatching the shrubs bordering the dyke, but no Palm Warbler. I had brief looks at 2 Orange-crowned Warblers as well.
It was definitely a day for raptors though, I had a Kestrel, Peregrine Falcon, Snowy, Short-eared, and Great Horned Owls. As well as Rough-legged, Coopers, Red-tailed hawks.
Not a bad day at all.
Here's my ebird list.
Species
54 species (+1 other taxa) total
X | Snow Goose |
|---|---|
X | Trumpeter Swan |
X | Eurasian Wigeon |
X | American Wigeon |
X | Mallard |
X | Northern Shoveler |
X | Green-winged Teal |
X | Hooded Merganser |
X | Great Blue Heron |
X | Cooper's Hawk |
X | Bald Eagle |
X | Red-tailed Hawk |
X | Black-bellied Plover |
X | Ring-billed Gull |
X | Western Gull |
X | Herring Gull |
X | Thayer's Gull |
X | Glaucous-winged Gull |
X | Western x Glaucous-winged Gull (hybrid) |
X | Rock Pigeon |
X | Eurasian Collared-Dove |
1 | Great Horned Owl |
3 | Snowy Owl |
2 | Short-eared Owl |
1 | Downy Woodpecker |
3 | Northern Flicker |
1 | American Kestrel |
1 | Peregrine Falcon |
1 | Northern Shrike |
X | Northwestern Crow |
X | Black-capped Chickadee |
X | Bushtit |
X | Pacific Wren |
X | Marsh Wren |
X | Bewick's Wren |
X | Golden-crowned Kinglet |
X | Ruby-crowned Kinglet |
X | American Robin |
X | European Starling |
2 | Orange-crowned Warbler |
20 | Yellow-rumped Warbler |
X | Spotted Towhee |
2 | American Tree Sparrow |
X | Fox Sparrow |
X | Song Sparrow |
X | Lincoln's Sparrow |
X | White-crowned Sparrow |
X | Golden-crowned Sparrow |
X | Dark-eyed Junco |
X | Red-winged Blackbird |
X | Western Meadowlark |
X | Brewer's Blackbird |
X | Purple Finch |
X | House Finch |
X | Pine Siskin |
Birding Westport
Last month I took a 4 day trip to Westport, Washington. At the time of planning my trip the area seemed to be awash in rarities. Northern Wheatear, Wilson's Plover, Bar-tailed Godwit, Common Eider, just to name a few were all being seen within a small radius, and they seemed to be long staying. But while I waited for my weekend to come, anxiously watching the news on ebird and the tweeters list, I began to see the reports of these species to be dropping off, and by the time it was time for my trip, it looked as though nothing was going to be waiting for me.
While I might not have got there in time for the rarity fest, Westport was still an amazing place to go birding. Staying right along the beach it was nice to be able to wake up and just walk outside my hotel door into a birding hot spot. Another fun thing about Westport is unlike the Lower mainland, where every birding location is plagued with dog walkers, bikers, hunters, joggers, and their ilk, its relatively quiet there, especially around this time of year. Really just birders and surfers, not a bad mix.
I started the trip birding bottle beach. In between Aberdeen and Westport, its a small pull off park where a trail leads through marshy boardwalk onto a tree lined beach, it seemed ripe for migrants. I found a flock of Dunlin that had a few western sandpipers mixed in as well. A large flock of 50 Marbled Godwits showed up, the largest flock I had ever seen, as in Vancouver we really only get a few with maybe 6 at the most. I spent time following the flock searching for a Bar-tailed or Hudsonian. Neither were detected, The Dunlin came in close and I spent time photographing them.
Day 2 was spent walking the Westport Jetty where the Wheatear had been seen. A group of birders had already staked out its location but nobody had seen anything. The Jetty is a huge expanse of rock that goes way out into the ocean. Its not like the Iona jetty where you have a nice gravel path, its quite the difficult time hopping from rock to rock, especially with a tripod, scope, and camera.
I had an American Kestrel do a fly by and also a Hermit Thrush poking around in the rocks. The highlight was coming really close to Surfbirds, Rock Sandpipers, and Black Turnstones, all huddled together. It was the first time I've ever seen all 3 species. Usually I've seen either Surfbirds with Turnstones, or a Rock Sandpiper with Turnstones.
After the Jetty I thought I would go down to go after the Wilsons Plover, as well as Snowy Plover which I haven't seen yet. I went to Grayland beach and set out walking the seemingly endless sands, while walking I noticed some small plovers, holding my breath while I jumbled with my binoculars I found they were only Semipalmated. They were almost comical in their cuteness.
Another skunking but oh well. being able to walk a lone beach is a reward in itself.
So that night i found out there was a cave swallow being seen at Iona. Talk about disheartening, I come all this way miss out on rarities, and then a mega rarity shows up 20 minutes from my house. I was beginning to feel like the unluckiest birder in the world.
The next day was another search for atleast a snowy plover, which i missed again. And then a drive down to Tokeland, to see if the Bar-tailed Godwit was at the marina, when I was there it was pouring rain and there were no godwits anywhere. Another bust.
We stopped at the tiniest casino I have ever been in, and won 50 bucks on a slot machine. So yeah...at least I had some luck.
The morning i had to go back to Vancouver, I figured I would bird the jetty again before Leaving. There had been a huge storm the night before so I figured there had to be something interesting. As I made it to the beach, I saw a Whimbrel do a fly by, not bad. I then began to scan the waters, and noticed something floating close to shore. At first I thought it was a duck, it seemed to be struggling to stay above water. The waves would push it onto the sand and then take it back out again. I started walking out to it, figuring it was an injured female Goldeneye, until i was close enough to see that no...it wasn't a duck at all.
It was a Northern Fulmar!
I had never seen one before, but this wasn't exactly how I wanted to see my first one.
I waded out to it, he seemed barely alive, but he still feebly tried to bite my hand as I scooped him up.
He was sopping wet, and shivering. I couldn't tell if he was injured or just so drenched he couldn't fly.
I walked up to some people who looked at me like I was holding some monster, I asked where a wildlife rescue was, but they didn't seem to know, I took him to my car, and we drove to a few gas stations, but nobody seemed to know. It was nearing check out time so I had to go back to the hotel.
I googled some wildlife places, the closest one being in near Aberdeen, and one in Ocean Shores. So I "borrowed" a hotel towel, wrapped him up, checked out, and drove to find the rescue.
3 hours later and I hadn't found one, i asked for directions to an address and they weren't very good as I couldn't seem to find the place. about this time the Fulmar who I named "salty pete" had basically dried himself out, and become unwrapped from the towel. It became a scene out of Tommy Boy with the deer as he stretched his wings and made a raptor like growl, and started flapping about in the back seat.
"this is too much"! i yelled, and decided he seemed ok enough to go back to the ocean. It was a sad parting, as I waved goodbye to salty pete, he made a run for the waves and was soon far out to sea. Now I don't really know the rules of counting, but guessing that because I saw him alive, caught him and let him go, it counts as a new bird right? Bah, like I follow the ABA anyways.
So even though I didn't see any of the birds I wanted, I had a much better experience with the Fulmar, that will last my lifetime, which goes to show why I go birding, and what really are the most enjoyable aspects of it.
-Ryan
While I might not have got there in time for the rarity fest, Westport was still an amazing place to go birding. Staying right along the beach it was nice to be able to wake up and just walk outside my hotel door into a birding hot spot. Another fun thing about Westport is unlike the Lower mainland, where every birding location is plagued with dog walkers, bikers, hunters, joggers, and their ilk, its relatively quiet there, especially around this time of year. Really just birders and surfers, not a bad mix.
I started the trip birding bottle beach. In between Aberdeen and Westport, its a small pull off park where a trail leads through marshy boardwalk onto a tree lined beach, it seemed ripe for migrants. I found a flock of Dunlin that had a few western sandpipers mixed in as well. A large flock of 50 Marbled Godwits showed up, the largest flock I had ever seen, as in Vancouver we really only get a few with maybe 6 at the most. I spent time following the flock searching for a Bar-tailed or Hudsonian. Neither were detected, The Dunlin came in close and I spent time photographing them.
Day 2 was spent walking the Westport Jetty where the Wheatear had been seen. A group of birders had already staked out its location but nobody had seen anything. The Jetty is a huge expanse of rock that goes way out into the ocean. Its not like the Iona jetty where you have a nice gravel path, its quite the difficult time hopping from rock to rock, especially with a tripod, scope, and camera.
I had an American Kestrel do a fly by and also a Hermit Thrush poking around in the rocks. The highlight was coming really close to Surfbirds, Rock Sandpipers, and Black Turnstones, all huddled together. It was the first time I've ever seen all 3 species. Usually I've seen either Surfbirds with Turnstones, or a Rock Sandpiper with Turnstones.
After the Jetty I thought I would go down to go after the Wilsons Plover, as well as Snowy Plover which I haven't seen yet. I went to Grayland beach and set out walking the seemingly endless sands, while walking I noticed some small plovers, holding my breath while I jumbled with my binoculars I found they were only Semipalmated. They were almost comical in their cuteness.
Another skunking but oh well. being able to walk a lone beach is a reward in itself.
So that night i found out there was a cave swallow being seen at Iona. Talk about disheartening, I come all this way miss out on rarities, and then a mega rarity shows up 20 minutes from my house. I was beginning to feel like the unluckiest birder in the world.
The next day was another search for atleast a snowy plover, which i missed again. And then a drive down to Tokeland, to see if the Bar-tailed Godwit was at the marina, when I was there it was pouring rain and there were no godwits anywhere. Another bust.
We stopped at the tiniest casino I have ever been in, and won 50 bucks on a slot machine. So yeah...at least I had some luck.
The morning i had to go back to Vancouver, I figured I would bird the jetty again before Leaving. There had been a huge storm the night before so I figured there had to be something interesting. As I made it to the beach, I saw a Whimbrel do a fly by, not bad. I then began to scan the waters, and noticed something floating close to shore. At first I thought it was a duck, it seemed to be struggling to stay above water. The waves would push it onto the sand and then take it back out again. I started walking out to it, figuring it was an injured female Goldeneye, until i was close enough to see that no...it wasn't a duck at all.
It was a Northern Fulmar!
I had never seen one before, but this wasn't exactly how I wanted to see my first one.
I waded out to it, he seemed barely alive, but he still feebly tried to bite my hand as I scooped him up.
He was sopping wet, and shivering. I couldn't tell if he was injured or just so drenched he couldn't fly.
I walked up to some people who looked at me like I was holding some monster, I asked where a wildlife rescue was, but they didn't seem to know, I took him to my car, and we drove to a few gas stations, but nobody seemed to know. It was nearing check out time so I had to go back to the hotel.
I googled some wildlife places, the closest one being in near Aberdeen, and one in Ocean Shores. So I "borrowed" a hotel towel, wrapped him up, checked out, and drove to find the rescue.
3 hours later and I hadn't found one, i asked for directions to an address and they weren't very good as I couldn't seem to find the place. about this time the Fulmar who I named "salty pete" had basically dried himself out, and become unwrapped from the towel. It became a scene out of Tommy Boy with the deer as he stretched his wings and made a raptor like growl, and started flapping about in the back seat.
"this is too much"! i yelled, and decided he seemed ok enough to go back to the ocean. It was a sad parting, as I waved goodbye to salty pete, he made a run for the waves and was soon far out to sea. Now I don't really know the rules of counting, but guessing that because I saw him alive, caught him and let him go, it counts as a new bird right? Bah, like I follow the ABA anyways.
So even though I didn't see any of the birds I wanted, I had a much better experience with the Fulmar, that will last my lifetime, which goes to show why I go birding, and what really are the most enjoyable aspects of it.
-Ryan
Monday, November 19, 2012
The Wagtail
It was a Saturday night like any other. To alleviate the weekend rain I had proposed a night of drinking and Xbox playing on the new big screen. WWE 13 had just come out, me and a few friends were re living the attitude era over whiskey and cokes. Around 12am and a few beatings in I just happened to check my yahoo birding groups, when I got to the Vancouver Island group, my mouth dropped as I read the words: Citrine Wagtail.
Of course my friends thought I must have been delivered some pretty heavy news as I writhed around the floor moaning in horror.
What had originally been thought to be a White Wagtail, then a Yellow Wagtail, now had been confirmed as something I had never even heard before, a bird that doesn’t even exist in my field guides. They didn’t exactly understand why I was upset, but they didn’t really understand I had to make a choice, go see that bird in the morning, or maybe take the chance I would never see one of the rarest birds to touch down on Canadian soil. My choices were these; Wake up at 5am, which was 4 hours from then, take a ferry to Nanaimo, then drive to Comox, or spend a life regretting not doing just that, I guess when you put it that way, I only had one choice.
Four Hours later in a dream like state I packed my binocs, scope , tripod and camera and set out to West Van to catch the first ferry. As soon as I loaded into the ferry, I turned off the ignition and slept uncomfortably twisted in the drivers seat. I awoke to the starting of cars, and in a daze I followed suit. I looked in my rear view mirror, and saw a familiar face, one of the superstar birders in Vancouver, one with the last name of “Toochin”. “Well well well” I said to myself “the big boys are out today”.
Citrine Wagtail, the name rolled around in my head, the name seemed exotic, an internet search resulted in images of a wagtail that seemed to have been dipped in a light yellow gloss. Of course this one I was going to see was a juvenile, and had none of the citrine colour the bird was named for. From what I read they nested in India, quite a ways from Comox. Wagtails are named as such, because of their uncontrollable habit of flicking their tails up and down methodically, much like their relatives here, the American Pipit.
The drive there was quiet and smooth. I listened to a band called “Landing” their light drone fit well with the empty island highway, the sun peaked through rain clouds, I wanted to keep stopping and checking out the shores lined with Gulls, but I had business at hand.
When I arrived in Comox, a line of cars parked along the side of comox road was an easy sign that I had found the site. I parked my car in turn, and crossed the busy street to a path that lead through a field on the other side, 100 meters up I could see the crowd, intently focused, peering into their scopes.
Walking towards them the tension grew until I had finally clumsily unfolded my scope next to the others, and began scanning back and forth the opposite field. A birder asked if I had found it yet, and I replied no, I asked where it was “see the tallest tree there?” “yes” “Follow it to the puddle, and follow the puddle down to the right, where it meets the grass, and to the left of that” “ahhh”
I held my breath fixed on the bird, bobbing his tail up and down slowly skulking through the grass. He seemed on edge and would duck every time a swan or gull flew overhead, like he was overly anxious or nervous, but I suppose if I had been blown into comox from a far away land, I would probably be acting in the same manner.
He was a beautiful bird though, clean and bright plumage, even as a juvenile he was striking. I spent the better of an hour watching the wagtail, he seemed to have a pre meditated course of action, walking the length of upturned ground where it met the grass, then flying into nearby brush with a buzzy “jeet" and then coming back down just to do it all over.
Other birders discussed its field marks, Mr. Toochin had a book with all the Wagtails, and everyone peered over his shoulder to get looks, more birders showed up, some left. I met a photographer I first met in Ocean Shores, and I shared all the birds I had missed on that trip.
When you decide to chase a bird you are basically taking a big gamble, sometimes the gamble is less than others, depending on length, the costs, the dependability of the bird. I had spent 140 in ferry money, and then gas, and bad fast food, not seeing this bird would have been a real kick in the pants, but the feeling of relief that eased inside of my after seen it, and the excitement of actually seeing something I traveled to see, were rewards as much as the bird itself. Its addictive stuff, and stuff I sometimes really wonder about.
After hearing the tragic story of a birder who recently died falling asleep while driving to see a rarity, I sometimes think to myself on these journeys what is exactly the point of doing this? Will my life list be preserved and revered after I’m gone? Will anyone even know? Will I leave it to my grand kids to put in a binder in an attic somewhere? With the advent of Ebird at least I know my sightings are being put into a bigger collection one that might help the birds as a whole. But its hard to think Birding or at least the kind of birding some people do is anything more than obsession and stamp collecting, an individualist endeavor that also contains some ego. This is why even when I do something like this, I feel like I'm letting myself down by falling for the trick, as if doing this proves anything but how gullible I am for the next big species, much like how people buy the newest Iphone because its New!
But these are feelings I intend to dig deeper into with this blog, and maybe this time I will stick with the birding blog as if you couldn’t see this is my first entry in years and years.
Take Care for now -Ryan
What had originally been thought to be a White Wagtail, then a Yellow Wagtail, now had been confirmed as something I had never even heard before, a bird that doesn’t even exist in my field guides. They didn’t exactly understand why I was upset, but they didn’t really understand I had to make a choice, go see that bird in the morning, or maybe take the chance I would never see one of the rarest birds to touch down on Canadian soil. My choices were these; Wake up at 5am, which was 4 hours from then, take a ferry to Nanaimo, then drive to Comox, or spend a life regretting not doing just that, I guess when you put it that way, I only had one choice.
Four Hours later in a dream like state I packed my binocs, scope , tripod and camera and set out to West Van to catch the first ferry. As soon as I loaded into the ferry, I turned off the ignition and slept uncomfortably twisted in the drivers seat. I awoke to the starting of cars, and in a daze I followed suit. I looked in my rear view mirror, and saw a familiar face, one of the superstar birders in Vancouver, one with the last name of “Toochin”. “Well well well” I said to myself “the big boys are out today”.
Citrine Wagtail, the name rolled around in my head, the name seemed exotic, an internet search resulted in images of a wagtail that seemed to have been dipped in a light yellow gloss. Of course this one I was going to see was a juvenile, and had none of the citrine colour the bird was named for. From what I read they nested in India, quite a ways from Comox. Wagtails are named as such, because of their uncontrollable habit of flicking their tails up and down methodically, much like their relatives here, the American Pipit.
The drive there was quiet and smooth. I listened to a band called “Landing” their light drone fit well with the empty island highway, the sun peaked through rain clouds, I wanted to keep stopping and checking out the shores lined with Gulls, but I had business at hand.
When I arrived in Comox, a line of cars parked along the side of comox road was an easy sign that I had found the site. I parked my car in turn, and crossed the busy street to a path that lead through a field on the other side, 100 meters up I could see the crowd, intently focused, peering into their scopes.
Walking towards them the tension grew until I had finally clumsily unfolded my scope next to the others, and began scanning back and forth the opposite field. A birder asked if I had found it yet, and I replied no, I asked where it was “see the tallest tree there?” “yes” “Follow it to the puddle, and follow the puddle down to the right, where it meets the grass, and to the left of that” “ahhh”
I held my breath fixed on the bird, bobbing his tail up and down slowly skulking through the grass. He seemed on edge and would duck every time a swan or gull flew overhead, like he was overly anxious or nervous, but I suppose if I had been blown into comox from a far away land, I would probably be acting in the same manner.
He was a beautiful bird though, clean and bright plumage, even as a juvenile he was striking. I spent the better of an hour watching the wagtail, he seemed to have a pre meditated course of action, walking the length of upturned ground where it met the grass, then flying into nearby brush with a buzzy “jeet" and then coming back down just to do it all over.
Other birders discussed its field marks, Mr. Toochin had a book with all the Wagtails, and everyone peered over his shoulder to get looks, more birders showed up, some left. I met a photographer I first met in Ocean Shores, and I shared all the birds I had missed on that trip.When you decide to chase a bird you are basically taking a big gamble, sometimes the gamble is less than others, depending on length, the costs, the dependability of the bird. I had spent 140 in ferry money, and then gas, and bad fast food, not seeing this bird would have been a real kick in the pants, but the feeling of relief that eased inside of my after seen it, and the excitement of actually seeing something I traveled to see, were rewards as much as the bird itself. Its addictive stuff, and stuff I sometimes really wonder about.
After hearing the tragic story of a birder who recently died falling asleep while driving to see a rarity, I sometimes think to myself on these journeys what is exactly the point of doing this? Will my life list be preserved and revered after I’m gone? Will anyone even know? Will I leave it to my grand kids to put in a binder in an attic somewhere? With the advent of Ebird at least I know my sightings are being put into a bigger collection one that might help the birds as a whole. But its hard to think Birding or at least the kind of birding some people do is anything more than obsession and stamp collecting, an individualist endeavor that also contains some ego. This is why even when I do something like this, I feel like I'm letting myself down by falling for the trick, as if doing this proves anything but how gullible I am for the next big species, much like how people buy the newest Iphone because its New!
But these are feelings I intend to dig deeper into with this blog, and maybe this time I will stick with the birding blog as if you couldn’t see this is my first entry in years and years.
Take Care for now -Ryan
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