2008's Top Five "Birdy" Moments

As has become sort of a tradition, I'm choosing to do a "Top 5" list to close out 2008. As has ALSO become sort of a tradition, I will be copying Patrick's idea.

So, here are my top five "birdy" moments of 2008.

5. 2008 Christmas Bird Count
I had been planning on posting a report of my experience with the '08 CBC, but I got a little distracted. So I figured this would be as good a place as any to put it. Even though the day was wet...very, very wet (it rained the entire time), I still had a great experience. I love participating in the CBC. Not only does it give me an excuse to go out birding (as if anyone needs an excuse), but the camaraderie of gathering together with other birders and tallying the day's count is always exciting. There's such a sense of anticipation and delight at learning what everyone saw during their count.

As I mentioned, my count was very wet. I volunteered for a 7.9 mile route down the Going to the Sun Road, starting at the Lake McDonald Lodge, then turning off toward Kelly Camp around the northeast end of the lake. The snowshoeing wasn't necessarily that difficult, but I still got drenched from the outside (rain) as well as the inside (sweat).

The most anticipated spot along my route was the bridge at the head of the lake over McDonald Creek. Sonja had been spotting dozens of eagles here a month ago, all feasting on the spawning kokanee salmon. I saw four, plus about a half-dozen Chestnut-backed Chickadees, some Pine Siskins and a Steller's Jay.

But the highlight of the entire day was spotting the little American Dipper happily diving into the creek in search of aquatic invertebrates. These little birds absolutely amaze me every time I see them. They have a tremendous range (from interior Alaska to Arizona) and are completely non-migratory (given that there is an open stream available year round). It's hard to believe that the little birds toughing it out all winter north of Fairbanks and those chillin' in the warm perennial streams of southern Arizona are the same species. This bird is why Sunday's CBC is on my top five list.

4. Any morning spent enjoying Montezuma Well
As much as I love living at Glacier National Park, I really miss Montezuma Well. There are very few places I have ever been where you can actually feel the spirit of the place. Montezuma Well is one of them. The sense of timeless magic and peacefulness is palpable. Each season has a different sort of magic, too. In the winter, my favorite thing to do is walk slowly up to the rim from the parking lot. As you crest the ridge you are suddenly bombarded with the adorable squeaking of dozens of American Wigeons. Hearing that sound brought a smile to my face every single time. In the summer, the place to be is in the little oasis at the end of the trail where the water emerges from the cliff face into the prehistoric irrigation canal, the Outlet. Sitting comfortably under the dense forest canopy with your feet soaking in the 74 degree water, while the Arizona sun scorches everything not in shade, is an experience you'll never forget. And the birds know this, too. Even in the heat of the afternoon I never failed to see/hear all manner of birdlife: Summer Tanagers, Hooded Orioles, Bridled Titmice, Canyon Wren, Rock Wren...

3. Madera Canyon
What more can be said about Madera Canyon? Any visit to that birding paradise deserves a spot on your top 5 list!

2. Madera Canyon
And if you go more than once, it deserves TWO spots on your list!

1. Yellow-billed Cuckoo
Even my trips to Madera don't trump this little gem of an experience. It was my last official day working at Montezuma Well, and I decided to take a video camera to document my commute to work along the prehistoric irrigation canal that ran behind our house. I had assumed that I had seen all the new species that I would see in Arizona, considering we would be moving to Montana within a few days. Imagine my surprise when I heard a bird I had been dreaming of seeing for nearly 20 years during my morning walk. And I had the video camera along to document the moment! So here it is, my top "birdy" moment of 2008:


Happy New Year to all of my faithful readers. Here's hoping that 2009 lives up to it's promise:

Wondrous Variety

Most people, I'm sure, would classify a species as a group of animals that generally share the same characteristics (ie, color, size, shape). While the exact definition relates more towards reproductive viability, in most cases an individual member of a single species tends to look pretty much the same as all the other members. As far as birds go that's fairly typical, with a few notable exceptions. And in North America, no other bird, at least that I am aware of, displays as much variation in plumage than the Dark-eyed Junco.

While there are seven recognized "forms" of the Dark-eyed Junco in North America, most people are generally familiar with only the one or two that visit their winter feeders. In Fairbanks, for instance, we only saw "slate-colored" forms. Now that we are in Arizona, however, things have gotten much more interesting. Today I identified four distinct forms of Dark-eyed Juncos in our yard. I got photos of three of them today and am using an older picture I took of the fourth for comparison.

Here is the "Oregon" form. Due to how dark this bird's head is we can even identify it as a male. These forms tend to have the greatest contrast in their plumage, with very dark heads and much lighter bellies and backs.

I've identified this one as a "pink-sided" junco. Now, out of all four of my identifications, this is the one I'm least confident about. Not to say I don't still think it's a pink-sided, just that there is a twinge of uncertainty remaining. Now, I chose pink-sided primarily due to how extensive the buffy coloring is on the breast. In oregon forms, you should be able to see some white near the top of the breast. That said, it's head is still a bit on the dark side, so there is a chance it could be a first year female oregon. But for the purposes of this blog post, it's a pink-sided. So there.

The grey-headed form is almost as common around here as the Oregon, but for some reason we haven't been seeing as many lately. There were only two that I spotted this afternoon. I took the photo of this grey-headed junco near Flagstaff last October, actually. Take special note of the color of the bill on this bird, then continue to the next picture.

Now, when I first saw this bird today my first reaction was grey-headed. Then I took a closer look at the bill. Can you see how the upper half is much darker than the lower half? That makes this bird a "red-backed" junco. For most non-birders, this distinction doesn't really mean that much, and it might still be kind of hard to see. So here are the two birds side-by-side:

Really, the only difference between these two forms is the darker upper bill on the red-backed. And when you see them next to each other like this, it's pretty obvious.

So, there you have it. Four different junco forms in one yard in a single afternoon. Now, to me this is all incredibly interesting. But I suppose that's the reason our license plate says "BRDNERD". So, for those of you who don't find the many forms of juncos fascinating enough to dedicate an entire blog post to them, here's a special treat just for you.

You're very own Abert's Towhee! For how big this bird is (nearly robin-sized) they're rather spineless. The juncos spent the better part of the afternoon pushing this one around, bullying it off of the platform feeder.

Anyway, now you know more about juncos.

Early Morning Light

With spending most of this last week helping Sonja recover from her accident, I haven't had much time to take the camera out. So, here are some pictures I never got around to posting from earlier this month, on a morning when I found some rare energy to get up before sunrise to get some photos of the Well.

I had a hard time capturing the warm morning light on the rocks of the Sinaguan ruins that line the rim of the Well...until I pointed my camera down and started snapping pictures of their reflection in the water.

I remember the morning as mostly silent. The morning chorus outside our bedroom window that had all summer woken us up having ended with the departure of the majority of the migratory songbirds. At least, it was quiet until I crested the rim of the Well and was greeted with a chorus of pih-TEW's from the Rock Wrens hopping about on the rocks (where else?) and the very un-ducklike squeaky-toy sound of the thirty or so American Wigeons swimming around in the water.

This Rock Wren hopped up onto the railing less than five feet from me. I actually had to back up in order to get my lens to focus on it.

After the sun had warmed things up a bit, I went down the hill to get Sonja. On our way back up, we surprised a covey of Gambel's Quail near the road. A few of them stuck around for me to take a couple pictures.

With Sonja feeling better I'm sure I'll be getting out a bit more. And when the snow starts falling on the red rocks of Sedona, you can bet I'll be out there taking a bazillion pictures. Although, it's hard to contemplate it snowing anytime soon with the daytime temps still approaching 80 degrees.

I never thought I'd say this, but I could get used to wearing sandals and shorts in November...