Finding Birds

In my quest to add to my Big January list I have gone out birding every day for the past three days. On Tuesday it was the Green Valley Waste Water Treatment Plant where I added the Ross’s Goose to my life list. Wednesday I tried Aqua Caliente Park again. I went there in pursuit of a Lewis’s Woodpecker which has been reportedly seen there on the Tucson Audubon’s Rare Bird list. I have never seen one, but what a treat that would be. An incongruous mix of colors, the Lewis’ has “oily green feathers” as Kaufman describes in his bird guide, with a red face, a pink belly and a gray collar! It was reported sighted in the palm trees but I searched everyone to no avail. No Lewis’ woodpecker today, which would be a life bird for me.

It was afternoon when I arrived under stormy skies. As I got out of my car I saw a Great Egret lifting off on silent wings to fly gracefully away over a distant ridge. Seeing the egret gave me hope that this would be a good day for birding. This time there are few people in the park and I walk around peacefully. The gray light of overcast skies softens the appearance of everything. A light wind rustles the palm fronds with a stronger gust every now and then. Mallards are in abundance, but so are Ring-necked Ducks and American Widgeons. In my grandfather’s old birding book the widgeons are called Bald Pates. I like that name better for it more readily describes that broad white stripe that stretches from their forehead over the top to the back of their necks. It truly looks like the bald head of an old man. In my mind now I think of them as Bald Pates, but I record them by their new names.

The widgeons make this squeaking sound that carries over the water “Wheet whew! Wheet whew!” which is high pitched and pervasive. The sound follows you everywhere. Mixed with that is the quacking of the mallards and the squeaking laugh-like call of Gila woodpeckers. In short, the park can be a pretty noisy place! I spotted a couple of green-winged teals in the bunch and to my amazement, a Canvasback. Because of the palm trees, Gila woodpeckers are everywhere. I counted 19 before I left, though at times there are far more than that. Northern flickers were well represented with a total count of 6 of the red-shafted variety.

At the north end of the park the trail leads past the lake to the mesquite bosque. Here a more traditional woods like habitat takes over. Tall eucalyptus trees mix with mesquite and cottonwoods. A thick undergrowth of prevails before the mesquite bosque takes over. It’s like three habitats in one area. One only has to stand quietly at this juncture to see Bewick’s wrens, Verdin, curved-billed thrashers, Abert’s towhees, white-crowned sparrows, northern flickers, Gila woodpeckers, mocking birds, and warblers. On a previous visit I have spotted a hermit thrush in this area, along with Ruby-crowned Kinglets and Hutton’s Vireos. Today to my surprise I see a bird I never expected to see in Arizona.

I am watching a flock of white-crowned sparrows in a thick tangle of brush near a big dead tree trunk. The trunk has to be at least three feet around with deep shaggy gray bark. I notice a small bird the color of the bark with a curved bill creeping up the tree trunk. It flies to the bottom, and then starts up the trunk again probing in the crevices for insects. It is a Brown Creeper, of course, but I have only seen them in Maine. I had two there that visited my yard regularly in the winter, so I know what this is as soon as I see it, but I am taken aback. I never expected to see one here!

All the while I am standing here looking at birds the wind has picked up, the temperature has dropped and a brief shower passed by. I am cold and damp but the air smells so fresh and the world feels so alive. Is it possible to have a peaceful wildness? That’s how it feels to me. I could stay for hours if I had a warmer jacket, but the day is waning. Soon it will be dark. I have a 45 minute drive to get home, so I walk back to my car and drive away, but not before stopping at the gate for one last count of Brewer’s Blackbirds and Great–tailed Grackles lined up in hoards on the utility wires. I don’t know why they like to do that in the evening, but they do. I counted 64 Brewer’s Blackbirds and estimated around 75 grackles before I drive off to end my count for the day. I counted 30 species in all, with 6 new ones to add to my January total. I will sleep well tonight.

Big January: 61. Canvasback, 62. Bewick’s Wren, 63. Brown Creeper, 64. Great Egret, 65. Northern Flicker, 66. Starling,.

Ducks in the Desert

You wouldn’t think there would be ducks in the desert, but there are. Besides the few oases and year round rivers, one of the best places to find shore birds and waterfowl is at the Waste Water Treatment Plants. In my quest to compete for a Big January I decided to stop at the Green Valley Waste Water Treatment Facility today on my way to the store. It was well worth the effort, for, not only did I increase my month total by 14 birds; I also added a new species to my life list.

The GVWWTP is off Continental rd. To visit you must sign in at the office and sign out when you leave. I arrived at 11:55 a.m. and parked my vehicle near the evaporation ponds. I haven’t been here since my birding trip with Tucson Audubon. That time I was with a group of 12 or more. This time I was alone-just me and the birds, and there were a lot of them.

I walked quietly to the first pond which is full of Northern shovelers. I see a few Widgeons here also. Along the “shore,” if you can call it that, least sandpipers and killdeer are picking along with great-tailed grackles and rock pigeons. Across the pond Red-winged blackbirds and Brewer’s blackbirds flock in the brush and among the buildings and equipment. The stench is noticeable but not overwhelming. I’m soon lost in a world of birds and I no longer notice it. The mesquite trees offer me some shade and some camouflage. I stand quietly and the birds soon relax as if I’m not even there. In the middle of this pond the water rushes out of some giant spout. It causes a constant wave to lap the shore and all the ducks face into the current in a circle, so most of them have their tails facing outward. It’s almost as if they are taking part in some duck idol worship with the spout being the object of adoration. Sometimes one or another will swim towards the shore before joining the flock again.

I walk quietly north towards other ponds scanning the horizon for birds. It is now that I see a patch of white on the far bank. I look through my binoculars but can’t believe my eyes. I think I see a snow goose, but it slips down below the bank. I walk farther north and finally see the goose again, but wait! There are two of them. Since this is a new sighting for me, it requires a consultation with my bird guides. I slip my bag of notebooks and bird guides to the ground, pull out my glasses and start researching. I can’t believe what I am reading, for the information before me says I am seeing Ross’s geese, not snow geese. I continue to watch the geese for 30 minutes or more. I snap off 10 to 20 photos in hopes that I will be able to get a better look once I am home. I notice that both geese have small pink bills and rounded heads, though one seems more rounded than the other. Still, I am not seeing the characteristic “Grin patch” of the Snow Goose or the longer, flatter bill shape.

In the pond where the geese are I find more ring-necked ducks and ruddy ducks, along with green-winged teal. I spot a few gadwalls in the bunch, as well as some coots. Sandpipers and killdeer are everywhere along the shores. I catch a movement from the corner of my eyes and look off to the east where there is yet another pond. Here I watch as a prairie falcon swoops down towards the ducks, lands on the shores, then takes to the air again. With strong beats of its pointed wings it swoops and dives, then flies off over the eastern bank. At the same time the falcon is swooping and diving, a Northern Harrier makes its lazy flight over the grassy banks and the desert beyond.

As I’ve been standing and watching the sun has steadily risen in the sky. I’m starting to feel warm in my fleece vest. My stomach is starting to growl and I really have to pee. All the ducks are tucking their beaks into their wings for an afternoon nap. It feels warm and lazy and peaceful with the dull hum of the treatment plant motors in the background. My eyes are getting bleary form bird watching and my brain has turned to mush. Still, it is with reluctance that I decide to leave. I just KNOW there are more birds to be counted beyond the next bank.

I get in my car and drive back to the office to sign out. Then, on my way out I scan the trees and fences again. I stop by the mesquite tree near the pond when I hear a sound. I see movement and pull out my binos once again. A yellow-rumped warbler is my reward. On the utility wires I spot a kestrel, then on the fence I see the shape of a flycatcher. I have to get at a better angle for the sun, and once I do I can verify a Say’s Phoebe. Enough already! I roll up the windows and drive to the store where I walk around aimlessly thinking of birds.

Once at home I check the Tucson Audubon Rare bird alert. It is here that I read about the Ross’s geese seen at the Green Valley Waste Water Treatment Plant. One is a purebred Ross’s goose, and the other is a hybrid that hangs out there. Reading this verifies what I suspected. I am learning to trust my observations even more.

BIG JANUARY

New today: 46. Ross's Goose, 47: Gadwall, 48. Ruddy Duck, 49. Bufflehead, 50. Green-winged teal, 51. Lesser Scaup, 52. American pipit, 53. Red-winged blackbird, 54. Least sandpiper, 55. Prairie falcon, 56. Red-winged blackbird, 57. Brewer's blackbird, 58. Great-tailed grackle, 59. American Kestrel, 60. Rock pigeon.

January Bird list: the game is on!

Larry of the Brownstone Birding Blog has challenged us to a Big January. For those of you unfamiliar with the concept,that means listing all the bird species you can see in one January within your own state. I've never done this before but since I started eBirding it makes it much easier to keep track: they do all the counting for me! So, here is my list for this month so far:

1. Burrowing owl, 2. American Widgeon, 3. Mallard, 4. Northern Shoveler, 5. Northern Pintail, 6. Northern harrier, 7. Great Blue heron, 8. Mourning dove, 9. Greater Roadrunner, 10. Abert's towhee, 11. Yellow-rumped warbler, 12. Phainopepla, 13. Curved-billed thrasher, 14. Northern Mockingbird, 16. Cactus wren, 17. Verdin, 18. Gila woodpecker, 19. House finch, 20. White-crowned sparrow, 21. American coot, 22. Ring-necked duck, 23. Ladder-backed woodpecker, 24. Hutton's verio, 25. Northern Cardinal, 26. Black-throated sparrow, 27. Black-tailed gnatcatcher, 28. Costa's hummingbird, 29. Lesser goldfinch, 30. House sparrow, 31. Say's phoebe, 32. Brewer's sparrow, 33. Cooper's hawk, 34. Red-tailed hawk, 35. Acorn woodpecker, 36. Common Raven, 37. Mexican Jay, 38. Bridled titmouse, 39. white-breasted nuthatch, 40. Dark-eyed junco, 41. Townsend's warbler, 42. Rock wren, 43. Gilded flicker, 44. White-throated swift, 45. Gambel's quail.

45 species so far. And where does one find herons and ducks in the desert? At an Oasis of course! But, you can also find them at the wastewater treatment plants, which are excellent places to bird I have found out! We have some very nice habits made from the treated water, one of which is called Sweetwater Wetlands. Perhaps I should go visit...

Two Moments

Yesterday the wind gusted so, that I stayed in the house all day, even though the sun was shining. When I stepped out to refill the bird bath, the wind had such a bite in it I was reluctant to venture forth again. And so it was I spent the day entering data into eBird, which I finally took the time to sign up with. Since I keep bird lists of all my birding expeditions it wasn’t hard for me to find data, it was just hard to take a break. With the information I have entered so far I have discovered that since moving to Arizona I have seen 111 birds!

After a long day at the computer the sun finally set and I went about the house shutting the shutters and turning on the lights. As I went to close the shutter by the front door my eyes caught a movement on the other side of the glass. I stopped and peered between the slats as a little Rock Wren hopped and bobbed about along the sidewalk leading to the front door. My house is of the style where the garage sticks out on one side and the front bedroom on the other forming a sort of tunnel or hallway to the front door. Here the little gray bird searched the perimeter for crickets. He hopped towards me, eyes alert, pointing his thin beak up and down the walls and along the cracks. Its fluffy under tail covets bounced with each step like a ballerina’s tutu or a square dancer’s petticoats. I watched with delight for the few minutes the bird was there, and then he hopped around the corner and was gone.

Just before I went to bed I stepped out the front door into the cold of the night to see if I could find the moon. I had heard on the news that Mars and the moon were going to be right next to each other tonight and I thought I would like to observe that phenomena. Well, I should have stepped out sooner, for in the clear diamond strewn sky the moon was not to be found. Then I noticed a bit of a glow behind one of the rooftops to the west. I walked down the sidewalk to get a better view and there dangling over the desert was a Cheshire cat smile glowing tangerine. I suppose Mars was somewhere around, but all I saw was the soft glow of an almost half moon right before it dipped below the western horizon. I went back into the house with a smile on my face, glad that I had taken a moment to step out the front door.

Once inside it occurred to me that the two best moments of the day were the Rock wren and the moon. I may have 111 birds so far for Arizona alone, but knowing that did not make the moon more beautiful or the Rock Wren more sweet. It was those two moments when I paused to see what nature had to offer me that really made my day.

Sunday with the Birds: a photo essay

We started the day driving to Madera Canyon. On the way we saw this Cooper's Hawk perched on the wires on Sahuarita Rd. Gus stopped and got this picture with his new Nikon D80.

The clown-faced acorn woodpecker is always a favorite at the Madera Picnic Area.

In Madera canyon we saw Bridled titmice, Acorn Woodpeckers, Gray-headed Juncos, a Hutton's vireo, a Ruby-crowned kinglet, a white-breasted nuthatch and Mexican jays. This was the best photo of the jay Gus got while it was feeding near the gift shop.

At the Proctor Trailhead parking area the mequite trees are burnt black from a fire a few years ago. The ladderback woodpeckers are finding fine dining in the burnt wood. We saw a male and a female. Here you can see the male drumming in the wood.

I like the patterns in nature so I snapped this picture of the sycamore tree near Madera Creek with my Nikon Coolpix. The bare white branches look like polished bones to me.

These are the colors of Madera Creek.

Gus pulled over the car to call his folks as we were leaving Madera Canyon. While he was on the phone a flock of White-crowned sparrows flew into a bush right outside my window. I grabbed the D80 from the back seat and snapped this picture.

What does the Cooper's hawk think when you get too close? "I'll fly away!"

Exploration

It was finally warm enough today to open windows and turn the heat down, so in the afternoon I shut off the computer and headed for the wash with the new camera. I hoped to capture a photo of a Black-throated Sparrow, and maybe see a new species. Instead of trying to climb through the barbed wire fence, I walked up the end of the street and climbed down the steep slope near the culvert. From here I headed south up the wash to territory I’ve only walked on one time before.

It is 4 p.m. when I head out, but already the sun is low in the sky. The whole west side of the wash is already deep in shadow, and I can see the darkness creeping towards me. Undaunted, I keep walking and hoping for some new bird. The birds are few and far between, however. Is this unusual for this time of day or year? Since I am new here, I don’t know. And since there has been a lot of road construction gong on lately, I have no idea how many species have been scared away. As for the sparrows, they are playing hide and seek with me, flying up like musical notes from the desert and settling behind cactus and brush, or diving into the grass. I see them briefly, but as soon as I raise the camera they are gone. There is a mixed flock here of Brewer’s Sparrows and Black-throated Sparrows and they are winning at this game we are playing.

I am frustrated by the crunch of my shoes in the sand. It’s impossible to take a stealthy step. Here in the quiet of the canyon my steps seem to roar in my ears. I take a few steps, then pause, take a few more, then pause. I am listening for movement, song, anything. I am wondering how the Native Americans got about without shoes to protect their feet from thorns and spines. Perhaps I need a pair of leather moccasins. Perhaps they will offer protection and silent steps.

As I walk up the wash I can see how the channel has changed over time. Deep cliffs are cut on the east and west rims. Spread out between these canyon rims are the deposits of numerous storms. All manner of trees, cacti and scrub have sprouted on soil deposited hundreds of years ago. Where the new channel cuts through I walk on deep sand and gravel. To the edges of this large boulders and rocks are deposited. I am amazed at the colors of stone, from normal string gray and brown, to green, purple, red and white. I need a geologist to explain it all to me. I find one mesquite tree grasping the cliff desperately. Its exposed roots twist and writhe as they grasp the eroding soil. The roots bulge like muscles on a weight-lifter and the tree still stands. I wonder how old it is, and how much longer it can last.

A few mourning doves and Gila woodpeckers fly over my head. The sparrows continue to elude me in the grass. A Costa’s hummingbird scolds me from an ocotillo, but that is all I see. I’m starting to wonder how I will get out of this deep canyon, when I find the trail up to the eastern rim. It’s a bit steep and bumpy but I make it and I feel like I am on top of the world again. I gaze out over the desert sloping away to Green Valley and Sahuarita, when I am startled to hear voices. I swing around to discover 2 men standing on a mound of dirt with a dune buggy parked nearby. I see the road that’s been newly excavated as development pushes into this part of the canyon. It was fun to feel like I was alone in the world in a wild place, but the truth is this is very tame, and I am close to home. I hurry back down the trail, feeling a little sad. Suddenly a desert cottontail is startled by my footsteps and scurries off the path. Then I hear the yipping of a coyote, frantic and wild across the wash. It’s not too tame yet.

Evening Shadows

Though it was such a beautiful day here yesterday I got caught up inside working at the computer. By 5 p.m. I’d had enough and decide to go for a walk. I crossed the street to the trails and headed for the fence. After consulting the Sycamore Canyon trail map I discovered that the trail went right through this spot. This is part of what we pay for with our HOA fees, so, not to be deterred; I climbed through the barbed wires and stood in the wash once again.

The setting sun cast long shadows and golden light around me. It is so quiet at this time of the day. Not a leaf twitches. Not a peep is heard. The only sound is the crunch of gravel beneath my feet as I head south up the wash. The rays of the setting sun play through the branches of trees and scrub. It paints gold onto the clay walls before me. All the rocks, stones, sand and saguaro bones take on the golden cast until it appears as if I stand in a glided outdoor palace. The shadows cast by the tree branches create a black filigree against the burnished walls. I walk forward with my footsteps pounding in my ears.


I see the four Saguaro Sentinels towering above me on my left. The Purple Martian holes are vacant now. I will have to watch for their return. I wonder if they will return, now that there are new houses so close by. I catch a movement off to my right from the corner of my eye. Quietly I turn and focus my binoculars in the fading light.

Little sparrows are flitting about in the brush. They dart behind the twigs and dive into the grasses. I step cautiously forward and finally fix on one. It is a black-throated sparrow hopping around the base of a prickly pear cactus. I smile to see his black throat outlined in white. He is a striking bird for a sparrow. So many sparrows are hard to identify, that birders frequently call them LBJ’s, or Little Brown Jobs. This bird is a uniform brownish-gray with a white eye line, white whisker marks, and a black throat that extends partway down the breast. It has a silvery voice to match its distinguished attire. He is the gentleman of the desert and his voice the song of the desert bell choir.

Of course, I would love to find the elusive five-striped sparrow. I have only read of this bird in my bird guides. According to the books, the five-striped sparrow in a rare visitor to a few rugged canyons near the Mexican border and mostly seen in spring and summer. This sparrow looks similar to the black-throated sparrow, but without the extensive black on its throat and with an additional white stripe that splits the throat patch in two. Thus the five stripes are 3 white and 2 black. It’s highly unlikely that I will find one here, but I keep hoping, so I examine each black-throat carefully.



I stand in the wash where I saw the sparrows and look off to the south where the last rays of the sun tint the limestone mine on the slopes of the Santa Ritas pink. I think that it may be called Helvetia mine, but I am not sure of this. Another research project for me I suppose, but nothing can take away the silent beauty of this moment, this ephemeral peace that I carry with me out of the wash and home.