Migration Takes Off

School started on Monday. I haven't let the beginning of school foil some quick birding forays, though. On the contrary, I've seen some really great birds this last week. I hope to keep up my daily doses of birding, but I've haven't even started two of my classes, so I may be pressed for time. If that's the case, I'll have even less time for blogging, so expect a dry period.

Last week I got a surprise email from my good friend Chris West. He's been "working" as a bird guide in Southeastern Arizona this summer, and he was coming out to California for a week. So, last Friday, he showed up at my house and we spent literally all day Saturday birding Orange County. We birded along the coast in the morning, beating the beach crowds and the head, and then foolishly birded some inland areas in the heat of the day. We ended up with over a hundred species for the day, including one lifer for Chris (Wandering Tattler) and a bunch of other year birds for him. Other neat birds we saw included a Black Tern at Bolsa Chica, two Solitary and a Semipalmated Sandpipers at San Joaquin Wildlife Sanctuary, and others. Our morning visit to the beach included a round of the Sanderling Game, a long-time tradition that Chris and I began several years back.



Chris had to leave Sunday to head up to Monterey to catch a pelagic trip. After our quick visit to Peters Canyon Regional Park on Saturday afternoon, I decided to go there every day to comb through the shorebirds for a Baird's Sandpiper. The lake is rapidly drying up, creating excellent shorebird habitat.



It only took a couple days. On Monday evening, I spotted a gorgeous juvenile Baird's Sandpiper on a dry mudflat near the lake. I was excited enough to make a few loud outbursts and dance a little jig. This species, a rare but annual fall migrant in California, has eluded me the past two summers. It was a state, county, and bigby bird for me!



So far this summer, I have recorded an astonishing total of fifteen shorebird species at this lake. This is hardly impressive if you compare it to Orange County standards; a day of birding along the coast can net a couple dozen shorebird species. Fifteen species for a small lake twenty miles inland, however, is quite good. Other interesting species of shorebirds I've noted there include Willet, Solitary Sandpiper, Wilson's Phalarope, and Semipalmated Plover. The summer is hardly over, either. I hope to find a few more shorebird species there before shorebird migration is over.

One bird that I missed for my bigby list this spring was Willow Flycatcher. A rather common spring migrant in Orange County, Willow Flycatchers are considerably less common in the fall, so I had low hopes of crossing paths with one. Yesterday morning, while birding at Santiago Oaks Regional Park, a soft whit called my attention to an empid foraging in some low brush along the creek. It remained frustratingly hidden for several minutes, but after it finally emerged I was able to confirm it as a Willow Flycatcher. Bigby bird number 230!



Two bigby birds in two days late in the year is good. Three in three days in a row is even better. I biked over to Peters Canyon again this evening in hopes of seeing the Baird's Sandpiper or some other shorebirds. I was walking through a weedy area to get to a good observation point for scoping the mudflats when a slim sparrow flushed and landed in a nearby bush. It was obviously different from all the Song Sparrows I had been seeing, and it gave a Spizella call. I managed to find it in my scope and carefully studied it, particularly the face pattern, for several minutes before the bird disappeared for good. It was immediately obvious that it was no Chipping Sparrow, the default Spizella. Fortunately, the bird stuck around long enough for me to jot down some quick notes on the face pattern. My gut instinct was that the bird was a Brewer's Sparrow, and a quick check in my field guide back at home (I don't have too much experience with non-Chipping Spizellas) confirmed my impression. Brewer's is a decent bird for the county (one one or two are seen most autumns.) It was a new county and bigby bird for me.

The Brewer's Sparrow detracted from some of my shorebird studying, but my few quick scans revealed nothing more unusual than some Wilson's Phalaropes and a couple Semipalmated Plovers among the more common shorebirds. I also noted a single White-tailed Kite and four Vaux's Swifts.

I hope my lucky streak continues. Three Bigby birds in a week in September is not crummy at all. My total now stands at 231. I'll try to keep this blog updated, but school promises to bog me down pretty soon.

Three Digits, Starting with a Two

I slouched on the uncomfortable bench and surveyed the scene before me. Birds were plentiful. Still... where were they? Sure, the American Avocets, Great Blue Herons, Pied-billed Grebes, and Black-necked Stilts were there, but that was the usual fare. I was looking for those tiny white screechy birds that fly around and dive into the water. They're supposed to be here... but why aren't they? I felt slightly betrayed. I could bike down to Back Bay - they are all over the place there, after all. However, laziness (or was it weariness?) prevented me from abandoning my post. I slid down farther on the bench, shivering a little in the cool breeze.

Then I heard it. "Cher-bink! Cher-bink!" I looked up, and there it was: a Least Tern (code name: Toy Tern) I stayed on the bench for a few minutes and watched it as it dove for food in the pond. I wouldn't have to bike down to Back Bay, after all; I was at San Joaquin Wildlife Sanctuary. Number two hundred and two for my Bigby list.

Huh? Wait - since when is Neil's Bigby list over two hundred? Since today. It's a long story, but today I decided I must break two hundred.

Prior to today, my Bigby list had been balanced at one ninety-nine for nearly two weeks. I set off early this morning, and steadily pedaled down the mountains to sea trail. My target was Grasshopper Sparrow, and I knew just where to find it: Sepulveda Vista Point, immediately adjacent to UCI. As I labored up the hills along Culver Drive, doubts crept into my head. Sure, there had been a Grasshopper Sparrow there on Birdathon, but that was a whole month ago. Would it still be there?

I panted up to hill to the point (I locked up my bike at the bottom of the hill and headed up on foot. I am an adventurous person, but I won't ever try to bike up that hill), ears cocked. Horned Larks sang with their tinkly voices, a Blue Grosbeak warbled away, and... A GRASSHOPPER SPARROW BUZZED! I couldn't help but perform a little victory dance (no one was in sight, fortunately). Number two hundred! I crept up the grassy hillside and managed to spot it sitting on top of a metal post. It sang frequently.


Non-birders would certainly not understand my excitement over this bird. If a non-birder saw one (which is very unlikely, because the elusive Grasshopper Sparrow has become very uncommon in Orange County), he would undoubtedly shrug it off as "a sparrow". If you aren't impressed by this bird's looks, then you won't be impressed by its song; many would either completely miss it or pass it off as an insect. I think it is a very interesting bird though. I stalked it, getting excellent looks and not-so-excellent photos before it fluttered off with its stubby wings.

Satisfied, I cruised back down all the hills I had labored up on the way and soon arrived at San Joaquin Wildlife Sanctuary. I had expected to easily find Least Terns, a species I still needed for my Bigby list. In reality, I had trouble with this one. I did find a Willow Flycatcher near the parking lot, a little brownish flycatcher that looks a lot like about twenty other little brownish flycatchers. I suspected it was a Willow Flycatcher when I first spotted it, and the bird was courteous enough to call to clinch the identification. Bigby bird number two hundred and one.

I finished up at Pond Two (as described above) with a couple Least Terns, my third new Bigby bird for the day. My birding for the day, however, was not done. While biking up the San Diego Creek Trail towards home, I noticed this flock of gorgeous White-faced Ibis.


After I had finished gawking at the ibis, I noticed this Black-crowned Night-Heron (code name: Night-crowned Black-Heron) staring up at me from the rocks below.


After a lengthy bike ride (why do all the hills have to be the last few miles when I'm most tired?), I arrived home. I rode precisely 35.38 miles (I got one of those nifty bike odometers), picked up three new Bigby birds, and had an immeasurable amount of fun. Oh yeah, and I got exercise. What more could one ask for?