Close to home

Home is for now a modest house in a modest neighborhood populated by working class families and students. The lots are small. The trees, big. It is no Cape May, no Whitefish Point, but it is home.

The alarm tinkles. I do not want to get up but do anyway. Stagger to the bathroom, pee. Then stumble to the coffeemaker. While the coffee percolates, I set my binoculars on the back deck so they won’t be fog-crippled for the morning bird walk. Alabama’s reputation for humidity is merited.

Day by day I force myself to bird the quarter-mile loop, coffee mug in one hand, binoculars in the other. It’s just a twenty-minute ramble, a daily contraction of my birding muscle, just the briefest set of avian calisthenics wedged into an overspilling schedule. I fear atrophy. I want to know what birds are near me.

The number of birds on this humble street ever surprises me. Of course, 95% of them are doves, robins, and jays, but every day I get a mouthful of migrants. Parula Tuesday, an oriole Thursday, two high-flying Eastern Kingbirds today.

Anything can fly over. One morning it was a Caspian Tern. Want to maximize your yard list? Watch the sky. No, seriously. Never abandon your post. Eventually, something like a Juan Fernandez Petrel will traverse your slice of sky. Will you be there to see it?

Don't Stop Believing

When I moved to California three years ago, I was faced with a grave decision. My backyard is narrow enough to spit a cherry pit across; I could either grit my teeth and keep a yard list for this tiny plot or simply abandon the concept of yard listing to save myself the embarrassment of having such a low list.

I cheated.

Instead of keeping a yard list these three years, I've kept an informal neighborhood list (known strictly to insiders as the "Hood List.") Like nearly all of my lists, it has fallen into disrepair. However, I still know whether or not I've seen a particular species in my neighborhood, and I get a kick out of finding new species.

The day I moved to my new house (ah, I still chuckle at how I went bananas when I discovered I had Allen's Hummingbirds in my new yard), one of explorations took me past a small, cactus-choked canyon immediately adjacent to my neighborhood. It looked like just the spot to find Cactus Wrens, though I didn't find any that hot June afternoon despite much pishing and peering through the fence.

Days passed. Weeks. Months. Years! I bird the Hood whenever I get the chance, and I've been by Cactus Gulch (as I dubbed it) dozens of times. Cactus Wrens remained conspicuously absent, though California Gnatcatcher, Greater Roadrunner, and California Quail all put in appearances.

So, it's entirely understandable that Cactus Wrens weren't even on my mind when one popped up while I was unsuccessfully trying to pish up an Ash-throated Flycatcher at Cactus Gulch.

But it was there. Not only was it there; it was joined by another!



The prophecy has been fulfilled.

Dragonfly Lifers #12-13

My pursuit of new dragonflies has been pushed to the back burner during the last few works while I was working at camp, but I've scored two new species recently. I'd better hustle out searching for dragonflies in the next few weeks before they start to disappear!

The first one is a bit graphic. I'd noticed dozens of small damselflies flitting about the neighborhood lake, and narrowed them down to Bluet sp. To positively identify them, I collected one and looked at the tip of its terminal abdomen appendage under a microscope. I was able to positively identify it as a Tule Bluet (Enallagma carunculatum.)



This afternoon, while photographing dragonflies at the neighborhood lake, I came across this skimmer. I assumed it was a Flame Skimmer at first, but after photographing it and looking it up in my field guide I believe it is actually the very similar Neon Skimmer (Libellula croceipennis.) The lack of dark brown streaks on the wings and the brilliant reddish orange abdomen seem good for this species.



I was also able to drastically improve on my photos of Red-tailed Pennant (Brachymesia furcata.) One has been hanging out at the lake in my neighborhood, but it usually stays well from the edge, flying constant low over the water and rarely landing. Today I noticed that it was sitting on a small reed a few feet from the edge of the lake. Unfortunately, it was facing away and the light was bad, so a good photo did not seem possible. The opportunity was too good to pass up; I hiked up my shorts and gingerly stepped into the shallow water of the lake. I maneuvered through the disgusting water and slime until I was close to the dragonfly with the sun at my back. Hardly pleasant, but I'm happy with the result.

Dragonfly Lifers #10-11

Dragonfly action is really picking up. The common species I've seen before have exploded in numbers, and a few new species have appeared on the scene recently. I've added two new dragonflies to my official list, and seen a few others that I can't positively identify.

My official dragonfly life list hit double digits last week when I spotted a different dragonfly zipping around one of the lakes in my neighborhood. After finally getting a cruddy photograph - the thing was flying around most of the time, and only rarely landing - I was able to identify it as a Red-tailed Pennant (Brachymesia furcata.) It is one good-looking dragonfly, and has a rather limited range in California. I was excited to see it almost in my backyard!



This afternoon, when I walked up to the lake to check for dragonflies, it was as if the dragonfly floodgates had been let loose. Dragonflies of all shapes, sizes, and colors were zipping around everywhere! I was quick to notice dozens of small damselflies perched on downed reeds and zooming low over the water. It was a new species, I could tell - the previous week, none had been present, and now there were dozens! The closest I could get with these ones is Bluet sp. (Enallagma sp.) A few different species occur in Southern California, and all are very similar. To identify them, I'll have to take some as specimens and look at their abdomen tips under a microscope. Here's a photo of one of the mystery bluets (if you look closely, you can see he is munching on a gnat.)



Not all dragonflies are this difficult to identify, and I was happy to be able to instantly identify several Mexican Amberwings (Perithemis intensa.) These tiny, brilliant orange dragonflies were new to me. Despite their hyperactivity (they seemed to live just to pick fights with each other), a couple posed cooperatively for photos.



Blue Dashers, which had been previously represented by one a couple individuals at the lake, were swarming all over the place. The chalky-blue males were engaging in vicious dogfights, and I spotted a single female laying eggs in the water. It hovered in place as it laid eggs, so I was able to photograph it in flight.



Other species I saw today included Common Green Darner, Flame Skimmer, Variegated Meadowhawk, and Pacific Forktail. I'll be sure to get out dragonflying more in the next few days; it was truly a spectacular show for a tiny neighborhood lake!

Dragonfly Lifers #4-5

As the days have become warmer the last week or so, more and more dragonflies have been emerging. This afternoon I circuited around the neighborhood in search of basically anything capable of flight: birds, dragonflies, and butterflies. Down along the Yellowthroat Creek I came across a few Pacific Forktails (Ischnura cervula) fluttering around in the low vegetation right along the creek. If it reminds you of the Black-fronted Forktail from a while back, good eye. These two species are very similar, but note the four bright blue dots on the top of the thorax in Pacific Forktail.

While poking around along the creek I also several species of butterflies, including Mourning Cloak, Western Tiger Swallowtail, Painted Lady, Red Admiral, and singles of skipper sp. and duskywing sp. Though my eyes were mostly pointed down in search of dragonflies, I also noted Hooded Oriole, Cedar Waxwing, and Red-shouldered Hawk around there, along with the more common residents and wintering species.

I proceeded to the lakes, finding dozens more Pacific Forktails zipping around low to the water. A few days ago, while walking the dog around the lake, I noticed a darner, undoubtedly a Green Darner, buzzing around. I found it again, and confirmed it as a Green Darner (Anax junius.) He was accompanied by a lady friend, and the pair was busily creating the next generation of Green Darners.



Green Darners are huge, commanding dragonflies; they made a nice break from the nearly-microscopic damselflies I've been studying recently. I know I've seen them before, and you probably have too, since they are very common and demand attention. However, since I'm starting my dragonfly list from scratch, it was a lifer for me.

I could hardly ignore the birds around the lake. Normally only Mallards and American Coots are around, but today a Double-crested Cormorant was hanging out. I was pleasantly surprised at how nicely this picture came out, because I quickly shot off a couple pictures as I strolled past.



I was also pleased to see a Green Heron awkwardly flying around the lake with a twig in its bill, indicating its intent on nesting. However, it couldn't seem to decide where to build the nest; first, it tried in the thick tules at the far end of the lake, but later flew up into a nearby tree still carrying the twig.

I popped up to the smaller upper lake to see what was happening up there. I flushed a Spotted Sandpiper from the lake's concrete edge. A pair of Wood Ducks reposing on the lake's edge was a big surprise, since I only rarely see them in the neighborhood.



Not bad for a short neighborhood walk. The two dragonfly lifers put me half-way to double digits for my list! Impressive.

Totally unrelated note: on Wednesday I GOT MY DRIVER'S LICENSE! A major cause for celebration. Of course, I don't have my own car, and probably won't for a long time, but hopefully I'll be able to get out a bit more often to chase rarities.