tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25785558926974010952024-03-05T00:47:10.608-08:00BirdernaturalistBirdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.comBlogger720125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-24205984326729229672022-02-13T21:16:00.001-08:002022-02-13T21:16:16.956-08:00Eciton vs. Pheidole: A Dramatic Ant Raid at Los Amigos Biological Station<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiiByndrdQoJ7JEX4aF84BQvb-YkrZPvCC0-p-m3kG_3JvIgsduSMrMZMJ0fMdKyoMyQhd9TZ4LRRZjhIRmibDS43xKDCKwQS_mc7ItNHluvXbJNeXTWqFIUart0tURdFqAJSI_D12xYZIN72ggVo3SMhl55TiSkXLdWTVuqUBm1lSr8vNa5HfcJHrw=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="695" data-original-width="1000" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiiByndrdQoJ7JEX4aF84BQvb-YkrZPvCC0-p-m3kG_3JvIgsduSMrMZMJ0fMdKyoMyQhd9TZ4LRRZjhIRmibDS43xKDCKwQS_mc7ItNHluvXbJNeXTWqFIUart0tURdFqAJSI_D12xYZIN72ggVo3SMhl55TiSkXLdWTVuqUBm1lSr8vNa5HfcJHrw=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>I’ve just returned home from a four-week trip to Peru, my first honest-to-goodness vacation to this amazing country. I have traveled in Peru apart from leading tours a few times, but in those “early years” (my first time to Peru was only less than 13 years ago), every trip counted as a scouting trip, and every observation was still a new and valuable experience directly applicable to knowledge I needed to feel like a competent birding tour leader. This time though, there were virtually no strings attached to my simply enjoying birds, bugs, plants, and all kinds of natural history, though I did learn some new areas that I might conceivably lead tours to in the future (especially private tours, if not publicly-advertised WINGS tours), and I even saw 13 new species for my life list. I also added 28 bird species to my Peru list. And of course, anything I learned apart from birds (which was a ton!) will naturally be incorporated into the natural history interpretation I do on my birding tours. The final species of the 531 I saw on the trip was the Andean Condor above at a well-known viewing site at the Andean community of Chonta, about 3 hours’ drive southwest of Cusco. I was with my friend and WINGS tour leader Susan Myers, and she spotted it way down the canyon below us. It soared higher and higher, and just 13 minutes later it was above our heads and drifted behind the ridge of the peak below which we had been hiking.</p><p>The site I visited the longest and already knew the best was the incomparably diverse Los Amigos Biological Station, where I’ve been taking birding tours for the past seven years. But I had never seen it during the wet season, and I wanted to offer some consultation to the staff and administrators to help them receive a growing number of birders and ecotourists. I was there for 10 days and saw so much. One species I barely know from Peru is the Black-tailed Leaftosser, and I managed a really crappy photo just to make sure I hadn’t seen one of the other, scarcer species on the list.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj7tM5VGAGp6SYEOC7A-c2Og2D6366IYydTTDWRGPbSWcQ6fiWG223IcmNvIZExyHj2cfLO0Kvg8GZTKr1VOoOp0cUhk1SMB34ckKWJLdQDJhkbv47rP-A7qaIt6LVo2JZeHyynv9Ox8ces07YcY63cFp9oMO31DKmfhcpBhBEgemqqetJSvIACy4WG=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="667" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj7tM5VGAGp6SYEOC7A-c2Og2D6366IYydTTDWRGPbSWcQ6fiWG223IcmNvIZExyHj2cfLO0Kvg8GZTKr1VOoOp0cUhk1SMB34ckKWJLdQDJhkbv47rP-A7qaIt6LVo2JZeHyynv9Ox8ces07YcY63cFp9oMO31DKmfhcpBhBEgemqqetJSvIACy4WG=s320" width="213" /></a></div><p></p><p>It was almost too wet for big numbers of fungi during the first few days, but on my last day, the forest floor started blooming with a diversity that is barely imaginable. This <i>Hygrocybe sp</i>. was on my last full day walking the trails.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZKndijYdwR1wNmLxrAvmC2Oxo7_Af6gFj9gBBAspynnItnYGKz6Myu_z6zYOSbjayzgO4e6JiJxsqgGkAW4pzXbwMeWBaPj9CxpXTy1_fNOxt7iGWGbE_EJ6eEhNNYooggLPNhiTuVfei6u6iV5Lhbh3RjRQ3p_bfnwuVM8NCG_nHnfd3apS7H7z_=s1066" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZKndijYdwR1wNmLxrAvmC2Oxo7_Af6gFj9gBBAspynnItnYGKz6Myu_z6zYOSbjayzgO4e6JiJxsqgGkAW4pzXbwMeWBaPj9CxpXTy1_fNOxt7iGWGbE_EJ6eEhNNYooggLPNhiTuVfei6u6iV5Lhbh3RjRQ3p_bfnwuVM8NCG_nHnfd3apS7H7z_=s320" width="300" /></a></div><p></p><p>I discovered this <i>Osteocephalus sp</i>. treefrog sleeping in a still-furled prayer plant leaf.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjZr3sdpK-Hf4daZT_glc0b28CWaYBPMIJAneno0ZzuPNf43veHJO_3UAq5ehoj3ilVeiOpPd3AtJMhago1yLF_uDLFWoufevAOG4Ulh_HrGiJtb1IhDuRqIIhhlRBYXEwH0WfOox_Fiw-3Sx50DYvBIOffJk9nMwEExKhs1BE1QC9sUfrJmwp0_0dM=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="391" data-original-width="1000" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjZr3sdpK-Hf4daZT_glc0b28CWaYBPMIJAneno0ZzuPNf43veHJO_3UAq5ehoj3ilVeiOpPd3AtJMhago1yLF_uDLFWoufevAOG4Ulh_HrGiJtb1IhDuRqIIhhlRBYXEwH0WfOox_Fiw-3Sx50DYvBIOffJk9nMwEExKhs1BE1QC9sUfrJmwp0_0dM=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>I had a blast with my new LepiLED light mini, which arrived from Germany just this past November. I strung up a sheet next to my cabin on several nights and ended up with about 260 photos of moths, perhaps numbering around 100 species. This lovely geometer is in the genus <i>Oospila</i>.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjm2dC_HFHubgx--pA1jer6oJiymrpdxeYb7gWTGSob_hDKH2icpQRd5Xx6oMJJ3BKoNqPnPLFEs0Ow2qAqzmrYi2JTp8VHE7DyyvqlEkrju_yt9CWBNawB3Rzy1soUkXYjChxG8RRbfBzf94BZ59HWwaFfilshdQVEmVnjU0MWyGYklszoRP63n4Ur=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="518" data-original-width="1000" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjm2dC_HFHubgx--pA1jer6oJiymrpdxeYb7gWTGSob_hDKH2icpQRd5Xx6oMJJ3BKoNqPnPLFEs0Ow2qAqzmrYi2JTp8VHE7DyyvqlEkrju_yt9CWBNawB3Rzy1soUkXYjChxG8RRbfBzf94BZ59HWwaFfilshdQVEmVnjU0MWyGYklszoRP63n4Ur=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>But the most fascinating encounter of my entire ten-day stay came my last afternoon when I got back to my cabin. Several columns of red army ants in the genus <i>Eciton</i> (probably <i>E. hamatum</i>; the field marks are understandably visible only with a dissecting scope, and there is probably more than one that is all red) were approaching my front steps and branching out in several directions. I noticed that some had started gathering around one of the tiny ant nests in the bare dirt immediately next to my cabin. These nests were little “volcanoes” of excavated dirt around a hole that went directly into the soil.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgmaGcjTLdFYiv9aV56ROlkRIsi5ZwZL_v4A6pwiB3yd3wxw-tmjcNwwI0NKhaFtKravoMaXUQm3C-Lw2glIJts4ztL1WpgRwsW6KwFby_lGvXkd7DHDBDn8pUvA0dkS7d0NUEsARK-5vVB7gfwDB7yBvbG0xwGz3Pfdx5uijTruMJdrzOHN5K4taTM=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="816" data-original-width="1000" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgmaGcjTLdFYiv9aV56ROlkRIsi5ZwZL_v4A6pwiB3yd3wxw-tmjcNwwI0NKhaFtKravoMaXUQm3C-Lw2glIJts4ztL1WpgRwsW6KwFby_lGvXkd7DHDBDn8pUvA0dkS7d0NUEsARK-5vVB7gfwDB7yBvbG0xwGz3Pfdx5uijTruMJdrzOHN5K4taTM=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>That’s my cabin on the right side of the clearing at Los Amigos. The overlook onto the Madre de Dios River is behind me here. I followed the main trail of the army ants to the forest off to the left of this the photo, and it was 80 meters long before it disappeared into the forest where their nest must have been.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjYq4lRKpfPwHp2MWcP-c-UuOYafZV3PFugkeBe4iGXoQz3kEPusYBUadlcE7wmca2d17Ag9EzQok_4ShjMW8t_phiDUz_Wwvvck_5B9hU4-UNW6EKLurwd69-14HUSawAd5gtv0oL_7pN_T02sLj2N03fBVO4rKQZX4NNpx4blYxVaH3FxD1WYRnby=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjYq4lRKpfPwHp2MWcP-c-UuOYafZV3PFugkeBe4iGXoQz3kEPusYBUadlcE7wmca2d17Ag9EzQok_4ShjMW8t_phiDUz_Wwvvck_5B9hU4-UNW6EKLurwd69-14HUSawAd5gtv0oL_7pN_T02sLj2N03fBVO4rKQZX4NNpx4blYxVaH3FxD1WYRnby=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>The view from the overlook. This is by far the highest I’ve ever seen the river, and it was still some six to eight weeks away from its usual annual high point.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi9m8mAJD-tOfSI1s3JabPSk_puGsu0SXRopyrBRl6hhPgHiiHd1jxWVfjjkCvbgP4u1DHU7ZTUDl_l_WenhDWC5hxS7pnuGYa40fyEvc81m2F5IOiC8acaMrc7MKquTmSPiT_B_9L4e93tHqwws4lEJdAER564HZIK6a4j8fTFas9gCqs7jNKFWhdN=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi9m8mAJD-tOfSI1s3JabPSk_puGsu0SXRopyrBRl6hhPgHiiHd1jxWVfjjkCvbgP4u1DHU7ZTUDl_l_WenhDWC5hxS7pnuGYa40fyEvc81m2F5IOiC8acaMrc7MKquTmSPiT_B_9L4e93tHqwws4lEJdAER564HZIK6a4j8fTFas9gCqs7jNKFWhdN=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>Unlike the swarming army ant <i>E. burchellii</i> (the one that antbirds and others attend to eat critters the ants flush from the leaf litter), this species and a few others in <i>Eciton</i> are known to form columns only, raiding nests of termites, ants, and wasps. I had seen this in action only once before, 15 years ago, when what was probably also <i>E. hamatum</i> was pilfering a huge nest of the paper wasp <i>Parachartergus fraternus</i> at Cristalino Jungle Lodge in Brazil. One of the wasps nailed me in the lip in a kamikaze flight, even though it wasn’t my fault.</p><p>These ants began growing in numbers around the small ant nest, but they weren’t entering yet.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgxFEzZcDT0kgD5HNiC_QT1MfWfjNIE5wIx_LjgmYIkC-AQgcO4BV_Caix2qgcP1pxu4Hf0QfS2uvXKrJ66iaMw8-503GRBEcxynO96kGGyIGl22HH5SetLkh-NCrBOJbSJQAz47Ff6HggfcSvX8Xxs_WsDEcnNUcIur-TAKajt_ta46gOgvMIVNOxg=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="712" data-original-width="1000" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgxFEzZcDT0kgD5HNiC_QT1MfWfjNIE5wIx_LjgmYIkC-AQgcO4BV_Caix2qgcP1pxu4Hf0QfS2uvXKrJ66iaMw8-503GRBEcxynO96kGGyIGl22HH5SetLkh-NCrBOJbSJQAz47Ff6HggfcSvX8Xxs_WsDEcnNUcIur-TAKajt_ta46gOgvMIVNOxg=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>Perhaps an expert can tell from this closeup if the characters can distinguish this as <i>E. hamatum</i>. I haven’t posted it to iNaturalist yet.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgavD-KnxHCtNA1o22p5lfzRwdJX4_lFmMt-s1YrRvLP0Yw2lE6IZ00az9hIZFZN_98qZIIwLe5-fb8PDVvW_sVfthGK68bGb35-BYkgZ6-fKzQBME7kd213q6_6PRz_TsD9q09zZJbvNXej3UkymhGObztKhse5vZSMmNvMiow5xEMv1xtoM42dl1d=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgavD-KnxHCtNA1o22p5lfzRwdJX4_lFmMt-s1YrRvLP0Yw2lE6IZ00az9hIZFZN_98qZIIwLe5-fb8PDVvW_sVfthGK68bGb35-BYkgZ6-fKzQBME7kd213q6_6PRz_TsD9q09zZJbvNXej3UkymhGObztKhse5vZSMmNvMiow5xEMv1xtoM42dl1d=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>I watched intently as the numbers grew around the nest, and occasionally an army ant would begin to descend the hole only to back out very abruptly.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhJi9Tz-qNZRhB264JlehTLOxJUUy4OLs3tuME-TLvFOtD5W08CN0bM9sboPEO1utzLHli5ewFjUccvXOg5nB2Iu7OsMucrgnd0uEpGPXOmIZU5tiQbzU2U7XLRpmpbGXzF03itval-vt-MggyBBYiSciY3NWnAemsylSXVn3VP2Ou9QfsmdA0uI0gz=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="987" data-original-width="1000" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhJi9Tz-qNZRhB264JlehTLOxJUUy4OLs3tuME-TLvFOtD5W08CN0bM9sboPEO1utzLHli5ewFjUccvXOg5nB2Iu7OsMucrgnd0uEpGPXOmIZU5tiQbzU2U7XLRpmpbGXzF03itval-vt-MggyBBYiSciY3NWnAemsylSXVn3VP2Ou9QfsmdA0uI0gz=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>Well over a hundred ants had gathered around (while other columns were still branching out in other directions, seemingly unaware of the growing melee). And suddenly, as if one of the ants had blown a whistle, they started going down into the hole.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgvQCG5wmbw75Ux8SOqtN5HWKmiUpG2izP_8HxFcpSJcyjiE62Jcq_lZ_lbJeNtKclBoYcnl00yYdtZSMKMlWTi4woXJS01DgoZmlOMwfnBiMNGIrmboLwNhIuyPYw76euXN2nIJ0mpZkpr1i4D-UptXFZMB5JHxt5HbsmDR5tMIFsEUPOgeSAtGNir=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="722" data-original-width="1000" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgvQCG5wmbw75Ux8SOqtN5HWKmiUpG2izP_8HxFcpSJcyjiE62Jcq_lZ_lbJeNtKclBoYcnl00yYdtZSMKMlWTi4woXJS01DgoZmlOMwfnBiMNGIrmboLwNhIuyPYw76euXN2nIJ0mpZkpr1i4D-UptXFZMB5JHxt5HbsmDR5tMIFsEUPOgeSAtGNir=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>Within moments, some red army ants were emerging, pulling up the residents, which were small, black ants with big heads. I’m guessing these are in the genus <i>Pheidole</i>. Each small ant was surrounded by several army ants, like bullies beating them up. I thought they were pulling them apart to take back to their nest for food, but I was mistaken.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEik6-T-2itzOikqUu7h0uu13LcjK9ejB6LJx_sKMeT1m8xR0ai3-Kpd7s6RwpmZPrDVwvmKdYPrbcdWZYALZ7Ik_gMQRJ8ZkSrldLu2ZQUURRmfGy2_PBFvb1Ke3chS6UmmgrgFA2J3YO3mdpCXuFNnMUtXqXZM1Yi3MBgJWAumJzsPNmctPhdQbqjN=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="940" data-original-width="1000" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEik6-T-2itzOikqUu7h0uu13LcjK9ejB6LJx_sKMeT1m8xR0ai3-Kpd7s6RwpmZPrDVwvmKdYPrbcdWZYALZ7Ik_gMQRJ8ZkSrldLu2ZQUURRmfGy2_PBFvb1Ke3chS6UmmgrgFA2J3YO3mdpCXuFNnMUtXqXZM1Yi3MBgJWAumJzsPNmctPhdQbqjN=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>It looked like pure mayhem, as more and more of the residents were forcibly pulled from their home. My heart raced then and races again even now as I type this.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg2KLX7A0JJBNMgsY4xJZozRSV4EvY29mayKYc6HEtMMnzPZNiiwqPkKCvxivB7HowH4j_CAA0WzPdTb0pP9cLZHhn4MVF0aZjeV77nlh1p97zZYDrGbPytjO3myRGOERmL5qMjpgkZuO3p1lcmsfEuaj0XEUAsYQB_LVcF9vARIPxn7GHSFm1z46SR=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="840" data-original-width="1000" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg2KLX7A0JJBNMgsY4xJZozRSV4EvY29mayKYc6HEtMMnzPZNiiwqPkKCvxivB7HowH4j_CAA0WzPdTb0pP9cLZHhn4MVF0aZjeV77nlh1p97zZYDrGbPytjO3myRGOERmL5qMjpgkZuO3p1lcmsfEuaj0XEUAsYQB_LVcF9vARIPxn7GHSFm1z46SR=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>It was only a couple of minutes into the raid when I saw the first army ants emerging with the first of tiny white things – larvae and pupae of the small ants.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgAyFkwqaaI5YQbNtYqckuOEUo-vQ9mxmCj_dIYHiB6KMcMxN0WG4-VUNCmpyGre9H1MiGtcZjMkXdaPOCp541x517Rni8fD-mK2nU5RA5bWSF0pRs_02reCp6tUlHHn_I9ZBdGLxLN8L1lR3aVdOdSN34Zzcrpyd1ps3V8X8zlZLgQ42G6UHTNiKeu=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="902" data-original-width="1000" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgAyFkwqaaI5YQbNtYqckuOEUo-vQ9mxmCj_dIYHiB6KMcMxN0WG4-VUNCmpyGre9H1MiGtcZjMkXdaPOCp541x517Rni8fD-mK2nU5RA5bWSF0pRs_02reCp6tUlHHn_I9ZBdGLxLN8L1lR3aVdOdSN34Zzcrpyd1ps3V8X8zlZLgQ42G6UHTNiKeu=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhRBaziGoWYBKfloGIXRHouO3eQFUPHQ4yj65aly07u5Nloiku0MfFQouwjt7O9kXTA4KNMMTcRf1GyCAgUnQXs3bK0-GkJZGFv33ixK-N0NshAFUYjHKFzr2vZoQJ4v4tF1ZeQXY2LLLvGVKoTjl5UqT9Xg5BotjaghMfwdOByjRHHE5KgqWp8Cu1-=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="664" data-original-width="1000" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhRBaziGoWYBKfloGIXRHouO3eQFUPHQ4yj65aly07u5Nloiku0MfFQouwjt7O9kXTA4KNMMTcRf1GyCAgUnQXs3bK0-GkJZGFv33ixK-N0NshAFUYjHKFzr2vZoQJ4v4tF1ZeQXY2LLLvGVKoTjl5UqT9Xg5BotjaghMfwdOByjRHHE5KgqWp8Cu1-=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>More and more started bringing them up.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiWEr2yK-SnRuzpmigtk1RNeTvD2K-4_otwkQUpS_2zgpLY0G4zruxhdpc-PPUsScUhIMQj20Sl1yRkgjZbReQ3Dar-9JOX-5mcSr89EnohD1vAckk6J_beYc4f9Hw5DzahrmaZfAjw_ewkrXXLwEogPZKiW9SfK8kTKpAd_eD6whzzCI4B3N7vC2uR=s1016" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1016" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiWEr2yK-SnRuzpmigtk1RNeTvD2K-4_otwkQUpS_2zgpLY0G4zruxhdpc-PPUsScUhIMQj20Sl1yRkgjZbReQ3Dar-9JOX-5mcSr89EnohD1vAckk6J_beYc4f9Hw5DzahrmaZfAjw_ewkrXXLwEogPZKiW9SfK8kTKpAd_eD6whzzCI4B3N7vC2uR=s320" width="315" /></a></div><p></p><p>And then I realized that they had abandoned the adults they had first brought up, and those adults – the larger soldiers – were taking them on.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh1ocyMXWo_T8Q4sgqdirwy_2No5PTSIGfNPB8VUJSyae-TGsGFJ-uyPGAfQ_dilvCuPJ6K2zUi0CbvPdL3_JIXgNKHK1HU9437Ownd8IneFgdClz168TRRXBku8D5HkLBG85ciBWRtJKGZHMQ3cDwrOAqjv2ivdpzS8xgHDhHvsg_e6jYniEbidFPx=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="844" data-original-width="1000" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh1ocyMXWo_T8Q4sgqdirwy_2No5PTSIGfNPB8VUJSyae-TGsGFJ-uyPGAfQ_dilvCuPJ6K2zUi0CbvPdL3_JIXgNKHK1HU9437Ownd8IneFgdClz168TRRXBku8D5HkLBG85ciBWRtJKGZHMQ3cDwrOAqjv2ivdpzS8xgHDhHvsg_e6jYniEbidFPx=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>In fact, the small, big-headed ants were quite a bit stronger than the bigger army ants. They would grab one by the antenna and successfully drag them away from the nest. But to no avail – the army ants were simply too numerous, and the small handful of big-headed ants were no match for the hundreds of army ants.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiZsfrBGzwzls92GynLD3CXU46amcV_xGJDLJfg_9tOhyv1SB-I5TT1AaUYVLgNaS2zPDEZyThHtkThhtKhvis2l138OPTBFp7eGrq6aN9iwRm1OICHeqBIUXGfjYN6tjziTxBg_iUapaiim7M2ncuqPIa-_RVjolXEuRdmlCRwQN87qtmpV-rKk3Sb=s1678" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1678" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiZsfrBGzwzls92GynLD3CXU46amcV_xGJDLJfg_9tOhyv1SB-I5TT1AaUYVLgNaS2zPDEZyThHtkThhtKhvis2l138OPTBFp7eGrq6aN9iwRm1OICHeqBIUXGfjYN6tjziTxBg_iUapaiim7M2ncuqPIa-_RVjolXEuRdmlCRwQN87qtmpV-rKk3Sb=s320" width="191" /></a></div><p></p><p>I soon realized that those ants emerging with the immature stages of their victims weren’t marching off with them. They were dropping them off at the perimeter of the nest then returning down the hole.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgxHbiT1pTFZ5MUOe7TSfGBa67VnyJTFhjvpjkhNnBmmB389mrjJX8_r99OOPTwOClSw9Lum7VuFZoPp4_bNJMiQOzn62eP3Z5xlMdLS7fpVJazb_v-sz3CiY-fLuyMvQO0As2Z2OqrE_JWjvv_qWQr8SI6oU-Ny2GiRK6uqZDfc7W1Fs5lspFOFuYy=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="675" data-original-width="1000" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgxHbiT1pTFZ5MUOe7TSfGBa67VnyJTFhjvpjkhNnBmmB389mrjJX8_r99OOPTwOClSw9Lum7VuFZoPp4_bNJMiQOzn62eP3Z5xlMdLS7fpVJazb_v-sz3CiY-fLuyMvQO0As2Z2OqrE_JWjvv_qWQr8SI6oU-Ny2GiRK6uqZDfc7W1Fs5lspFOFuYy=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>Meanwhile, hundreds of other workers waiting around were picking them up and returning to the column and thence to their own nest in the forest across the clearing. It was clearly a well-organized division of labor. This photo was taken 26 minutes after I first spotted the ants gather around the hole.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEilv5Cd00uShsJ2MEdZm1yW4W0yzHgFJHHwFisI-ALt_yCm3EIJB0JT-3AJJAsOLPZILY_eP-_5bMKPpDflNb3ffJ4uqbk0lBAvIwNrpszTlMfAVlZbDIsm0s6zOcYsQrLhxaNosedEc9Uatj2ltxO1bH4Xh0-k_tze8R91Rvr4R9OEG47h1_b4ukz5=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="804" data-original-width="1000" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEilv5Cd00uShsJ2MEdZm1yW4W0yzHgFJHHwFisI-ALt_yCm3EIJB0JT-3AJJAsOLPZILY_eP-_5bMKPpDflNb3ffJ4uqbk0lBAvIwNrpszTlMfAVlZbDIsm0s6zOcYsQrLhxaNosedEc9Uatj2ltxO1bH4Xh0-k_tze8R91Rvr4R9OEG47h1_b4ukz5=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>I came back out less than 20 minutes after this last photo, and this was what I found: The big-headed ant adults were back to work, both workers and soldiers (small and large), repairing their nest and presumably ready feed their queen and start building up their numbers from scratch once again.</p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjHHyN3v5DYDxPWdJv_nj3xkQXPsOJx6vfJY1QMkR4pGzf1UhQcReb0JzAIFsmF3GkdLp9LHfHIjC_OtJzy04Qxh9eyjyduh_ew_9YYik6F-Mo1u0qs-mND5_gKvc17JmllYeGRWi6046iuOfSa_DnkNSrXYcDVJ-mq6WiXZ5u1CFzaGHm5UbuhDyuo=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="760" data-original-width="1000" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjHHyN3v5DYDxPWdJv_nj3xkQXPsOJx6vfJY1QMkR4pGzf1UhQcReb0JzAIFsmF3GkdLp9LHfHIjC_OtJzy04Qxh9eyjyduh_ew_9YYik6F-Mo1u0qs-mND5_gKvc17JmllYeGRWi6046iuOfSa_DnkNSrXYcDVJ-mq6WiXZ5u1CFzaGHm5UbuhDyuo=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiCOKw1TsSbNMuwygiwbjlGkXdJCbGcYWD7-x2hBl3aAMnOMcmFr8heyTkWDj0-LeRBMBgpHEySdU-LWzfY-iWnjs57p4mpvjid8UBAvNSwj3Z4p2T9DQaKmuJcopkSh2KZ2mLL6xs3T91NpdImDHu0dRemZVgTgUUp-N-IUncyEkGbeYRtj1uhZyIt=s1506" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1506" data-original-width="1482" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiCOKw1TsSbNMuwygiwbjlGkXdJCbGcYWD7-x2hBl3aAMnOMcmFr8heyTkWDj0-LeRBMBgpHEySdU-LWzfY-iWnjs57p4mpvjid8UBAvNSwj3Z4p2T9DQaKmuJcopkSh2KZ2mLL6xs3T91NpdImDHu0dRemZVgTgUUp-N-IUncyEkGbeYRtj1uhZyIt=s320" width="315" /></a></div></div>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-58123384150301996852022-01-03T22:35:00.000-08:002022-01-03T22:35:15.773-08:00The 2021-22 Christmas Bird Count<p>I participated on three Christmas Bird Counts this year – lower than my typical average of seven to nine, because I was away for 12 days for my Oaxaca at Christmastime tour in the middle of the period. There are still two more days left to this 2021-22 Christmas Bird Count season, but being weekdays, they weren’t chosen by many compilers. (If you’re reading this last minute, the Redmond CBC is being held on Wednesday, January 5.) Weather-wise it’s a good thing though; this last weekend saw relatively good weather, while today it’s raining cats and dogs nonstop, and that’s the forecast for the next few days.</p><p>My first CBC this year was the unofficial Tangent count that at least gets uploaded to eBird and offers data just as valid as any other CBC and covers a part of the Willamette Valley otherwise not censused. It was held on the first day of the period, a Tuesday this year, and it was the first real winter day after the passage of a wet, cold front. While on the cold side, it was free of the typical nonstop precipitation that can affect birding conditions. The day dawned clear, with ice on the roads, delaying our start as we drove very slowly to our area near Lebanon. But the view looking across the valley was incredible. This is Marys Peak as viewed from just north of Brownsville.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiUK_7EDYw7eMl51xAY54ou3wy5kawH743abPIvEJt6PYCxC8gohQgH0KIzQTM7LNBYzMD31qercAk0JfqzKWkic108VhAjCUH2mg4FBVbM1Rpi3QCAD2I2pzbIkVN6XOSsIxxGBocaKsOtpdGQNra33cExDCiK_vo9DXAyY_ILBKQGzA5EgxcrMJSA=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiUK_7EDYw7eMl51xAY54ou3wy5kawH743abPIvEJt6PYCxC8gohQgH0KIzQTM7LNBYzMD31qercAk0JfqzKWkic108VhAjCUH2mg4FBVbM1Rpi3QCAD2I2pzbIkVN6XOSsIxxGBocaKsOtpdGQNra33cExDCiK_vo9DXAyY_ILBKQGzA5EgxcrMJSA=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>My birding companion for the day was John Sullivan.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj8tEbSC8dv3XNeDt7G5y_OCOtcbhyRJbrtwYXIBp1e8U1d916zKOP1hdj6cEVkV2bbARCzD84yfBAGUQvbN9_eqvjT2Rm4a_TpDKVoZElkYe-DH-6gu2wh0xsjim2LUPmdRGwwLaRxeSaMjMjQDzEkaoZ7e_owNfKJpnijZaewL5v2mBGQj89RZeBO=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj8tEbSC8dv3XNeDt7G5y_OCOtcbhyRJbrtwYXIBp1e8U1d916zKOP1hdj6cEVkV2bbARCzD84yfBAGUQvbN9_eqvjT2Rm4a_TpDKVoZElkYe-DH-6gu2wh0xsjim2LUPmdRGwwLaRxeSaMjMjQDzEkaoZ7e_owNfKJpnijZaewL5v2mBGQj89RZeBO=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>This Hermit Thrush was buffy enough in the face to have convinced an unwary observer of a unprecedented winter record of Swainson’s Thrush, but we heard it, then also saw the rufous tail. Hermit Thrush is the only <i>Catharus</i> thrush expected in the winter here.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgGBr06rylWPzkapJ8n-ED9W2noGPdhzcb0LuV3TgZbLpPZ_WbdR2AHRQ3_FmVkklZehiMwJ8tvizWsOVDEg_VNJF7mSpaopG-4FRhTRoqHSDgSBU1iSyQVzwRvQ8lpxa97RtiaGgt0xkWcbt_sytHyJc0P6AshobitUvGeGCPjzToOuVA_4IhzijXf=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="694" data-original-width="1000" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgGBr06rylWPzkapJ8n-ED9W2noGPdhzcb0LuV3TgZbLpPZ_WbdR2AHRQ3_FmVkklZehiMwJ8tvizWsOVDEg_VNJF7mSpaopG-4FRhTRoqHSDgSBU1iSyQVzwRvQ8lpxa97RtiaGgt0xkWcbt_sytHyJc0P6AshobitUvGeGCPjzToOuVA_4IhzijXf=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>\We were excited to see this Red-tailed Hawk with wing tags. It’s now been more than two weeks since I reported it online, and I still haven’t heard from whoever tagged it. I’ll post an update if and when I hear back.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg80NC3ZVqWQ2Uzp8A7mGbokD5msguoeA3jUs94N3PirZfMDbw26JFQ5HpDB6gQSIvFK4kmZ2RnpulIJf0t8Rz3C_KNkj3g0s1LWGuqvKP5BFyUTkjI7BRohsVoV2_zYM7ooP3A2H7oCxKbaTlBK9OVSYcw3ObK7y-jBfynt1LZUNm-tNHIuDPJIQr-=s609" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="609" data-original-width="498" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg80NC3ZVqWQ2Uzp8A7mGbokD5msguoeA3jUs94N3PirZfMDbw26JFQ5HpDB6gQSIvFK4kmZ2RnpulIJf0t8Rz3C_KNkj3g0s1LWGuqvKP5BFyUTkjI7BRohsVoV2_zYM7ooP3A2H7oCxKbaTlBK9OVSYcw3ObK7y-jBfynt1LZUNm-tNHIuDPJIQr-=s320" width="262" /></a></div><p></p><p>This Varied Thrush was quite a surprise in a very open park at Cheadle Lake on the outskirts of Lebanon.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLpNA50DQwuzP-Arku1zmlXE-JiDceLCj4lyWX3xWywnopKwKTbsl6XaMLSsoVUGTfeiGTd8PinRWkepwSxs9aFpexzOyaGNol8_3NMPC-58t169_cDXoGhFO1r8yseWtYHyyR6l7HbJR13gSw-knC5mzjMUu6H4rBT6d6MdMOcD7UErEEL9Aqcbdj=s1219" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1219" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLpNA50DQwuzP-Arku1zmlXE-JiDceLCj4lyWX3xWywnopKwKTbsl6XaMLSsoVUGTfeiGTd8PinRWkepwSxs9aFpexzOyaGNol8_3NMPC-58t169_cDXoGhFO1r8yseWtYHyyR6l7HbJR13gSw-knC5mzjMUu6H4rBT6d6MdMOcD7UErEEL9Aqcbdj=s320" width="263" /></a></div><p></p><p>We finished the day hiking up Peterson Butte, an isolated mountain on the eastern edge of the Willamette Valley, offering a very unusual perspective and stunning views.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgSXxl149l8l8zc8vHGR6COEycIvUFar5QeZyt7ZSySLUbRxurqRlIhRKv5yudDVzq9MaC9CKq3ynSc5AONaJ_20B1un-N7LeVoD8j48ifANKm9bDhgQVhtF2bEqySG6dxdkN3Qjlvqd4aZF6_j22aUYeKnxhKFUTjczcBOGbJLZ5DMB-9mbNAKr7ue=s2000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="565" data-original-width="2000" height="90" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgSXxl149l8l8zc8vHGR6COEycIvUFar5QeZyt7ZSySLUbRxurqRlIhRKv5yudDVzq9MaC9CKq3ynSc5AONaJ_20B1un-N7LeVoD8j48ifANKm9bDhgQVhtF2bEqySG6dxdkN3Qjlvqd4aZF6_j22aUYeKnxhKFUTjczcBOGbJLZ5DMB-9mbNAKr7ue=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p style="text-align: left;">On December 18, two days before I left for Oaxaca, I participated on the Florence CBC with Magnus Persmark and Richard Turk. A front was approaching, and we experienced growing south winds over the day, but fortunately the rains didn’t arrive until after dark. We started by hiking north from the north jetty to the town of Heceta Beach, finding a flock of 31 Snowy Plovers, the only ones for the count.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg2_AYsPB3HocLevH2pxWO8pqx9paOx-G6Yopd4oRB_QZTJaYViC5U2otgdyZcv-V--da2zECgJrbOJsUEt-6wc1Xnptpk3S7Kq94ZbbMFsrTiKA75eMfyk4nZbO-F8LnNDwg6-PKxlcvVIbq5AmvLlMOHzGQ9Ai4mMZDWIgHdpEHykrJ-ZYFKI4R6H=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg2_AYsPB3HocLevH2pxWO8pqx9paOx-G6Yopd4oRB_QZTJaYViC5U2otgdyZcv-V--da2zECgJrbOJsUEt-6wc1Xnptpk3S7Kq94ZbbMFsrTiKA75eMfyk4nZbO-F8LnNDwg6-PKxlcvVIbq5AmvLlMOHzGQ9Ai4mMZDWIgHdpEHykrJ-ZYFKI4R6H=s320" width="320" /></a></p><p>We tallied Hutton’s Vireo, Wrentits, and other woodland birds along Sutton Creek. It’s gorgeous habitat, but it’s actually not very birdy.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjN0X7KWWNgzaBqtU45uzU-LMDgN5n6Pk_-cbVyVXi94bdkcDERrm8X6m9Oo-zUv8-FqsiyNcYwdTke0k4CvRrVrRB003_yBypEtQKGf0SCnZBvSjfbW19fdgKJ6woYTvo2TQt5xKj0Q7SS2luBAsyyOd6cELp_8Qr7-ByJkZOgPl-Gv_Nrwmf4CTwZ=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjN0X7KWWNgzaBqtU45uzU-LMDgN5n6Pk_-cbVyVXi94bdkcDERrm8X6m9Oo-zUv8-FqsiyNcYwdTke0k4CvRrVrRB003_yBypEtQKGf0SCnZBvSjfbW19fdgKJ6woYTvo2TQt5xKj0Q7SS2luBAsyyOd6cELp_8Qr7-ByJkZOgPl-Gv_Nrwmf4CTwZ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>Amazingly adapted to the cold winter temperatures, Rough-skinned News (<i>Taricha granulosa</i>) were common along the roadway through the state park.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgO2rcUOY7U0Mj-ab5d1G-Hnmfhx3RxyKdZ1LnVnT-nDGa2Kg88UsTl0yw-IYw21rtek3AH2W_8lrrLcufl2Ho81N9DMslDl28yJUhSghGWNAJFQLJhgjDsUs0bmypXiseqV6_bw0GI_uXYRmAlmt0FclE0PztTq5SMfgJRjL2ae5kLyCbxJO2k472W=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="610" data-original-width="1000" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgO2rcUOY7U0Mj-ab5d1G-Hnmfhx3RxyKdZ1LnVnT-nDGa2Kg88UsTl0yw-IYw21rtek3AH2W_8lrrLcufl2Ho81N9DMslDl28yJUhSghGWNAJFQLJhgjDsUs0bmypXiseqV6_bw0GI_uXYRmAlmt0FclE0PztTq5SMfgJRjL2ae5kLyCbxJO2k472W=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>Finally, just yesterday, January 2, I participated on the Eugene CBC, covering the same area as last year, the single best spot being the private gravel ponds owned by RiverBend Materials, where we have special permission to enter. This year I had the spotting help of Richard Turk, who had been with me on the Florence CBC. Like last year, I got Soras to respond to call in response to playback from their haunts in large stands of cattail. These appear to be the only ones in the Eugene area in winter. Also a scarce bird in winter, this Orange-crowned Warbler was one of our better finds.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhBUfu_0NdoZiyuDRgM5vvyTl-U8ED9dOEnSf5G9uTowIIRdeHLfj0mxgO_A_iiO5jdchXGdfGWjSy_ZgfMXw3hxzYFMqhjKTUK0SuLHBnUhSsWg_qGoekkL-bfMOHNH7cUtWfpb-xDeAfhpnWfh8C7AOYeNRCH4PvexAz5CYTxalecWmVsFbmxwuMT=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="696" data-original-width="1000" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhBUfu_0NdoZiyuDRgM5vvyTl-U8ED9dOEnSf5G9uTowIIRdeHLfj0mxgO_A_iiO5jdchXGdfGWjSy_ZgfMXw3hxzYFMqhjKTUK0SuLHBnUhSsWg_qGoekkL-bfMOHNH7cUtWfpb-xDeAfhpnWfh8C7AOYeNRCH4PvexAz5CYTxalecWmVsFbmxwuMT=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>We had at least eight Bald Eagles, but it was hard to keep track, and there may have been several more.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgI1cML6IDzlUUZwguUZK5mjyKszC8_FcUv_x68hbZP2rz6Bt7XhD7HTZLjg8osXdGTeQxgbzsmdEzJLKpa2E-MZJK9dIvaonwIUqgejoCLkBc3c-cmL0c7igbLNSIcAA_2okWo_Rly4JJv-fgV2yogDBBD1zhrgeDXLRgmeoO8EgUM5IOBRqvVhMzi=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="670" data-original-width="1000" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgI1cML6IDzlUUZwguUZK5mjyKszC8_FcUv_x68hbZP2rz6Bt7XhD7HTZLjg8osXdGTeQxgbzsmdEzJLKpa2E-MZJK9dIvaonwIUqgejoCLkBc3c-cmL0c7igbLNSIcAA_2okWo_Rly4JJv-fgV2yogDBBD1zhrgeDXLRgmeoO8EgUM5IOBRqvVhMzi=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><p></p>A trio of American White Pelicans soaring over the northern end of Delta Highway was an unusual sight. The local population typically stays very close to Fern Ridge Reservoir, several miles to the SW of us.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEihZHHzpZOPAdi1tSt_f9WRNdn4pTzSvIDBibIHrV-buKgy-4fUxBsaE5pP_tqZMPGSPZeyCi_BpmTCc3RfvYsbua3lVUe6WQEkMlipLL6xzkXfdpLVB-edsZ0mP5j0snOad6V25Z0NujBFfDh3z3Ge4_tzCfM3gaewquoaxaaVwA23yPpBwCjNjF0G=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="513" data-original-width="1000" height="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEihZHHzpZOPAdi1tSt_f9WRNdn4pTzSvIDBibIHrV-buKgy-4fUxBsaE5pP_tqZMPGSPZeyCi_BpmTCc3RfvYsbua3lVUe6WQEkMlipLL6xzkXfdpLVB-edsZ0mP5j0snOad6V25Z0NujBFfDh3z3Ge4_tzCfM3gaewquoaxaaVwA23yPpBwCjNjF0G=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>In the afternoon we covered Armitage County Park where we finally found some Bushtits. Typically in large flocks, this Bushtit was one of only two birds that came in very close.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiJlRaBLSwIdJdhFwC_2Tg_JXOUDxK7qJdz5S2-TpJMrbLb4xSnbEUscL4091yTW2t7L6Wv3Az2mSJ7lBnqRPHidAk_x6_S9Yk0DprMCJLwwiKiYa6Gn2yGIJ9S8cZ_aofWCVnwsREqPk9CWgRO-jNbD1Cx772MsYbEjdWuXS7BxOfRhE92FNMORFec=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="721" data-original-width="1000" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiJlRaBLSwIdJdhFwC_2Tg_JXOUDxK7qJdz5S2-TpJMrbLb4xSnbEUscL4091yTW2t7L6Wv3Az2mSJ7lBnqRPHidAk_x6_S9Yk0DprMCJLwwiKiYa6Gn2yGIJ9S8cZ_aofWCVnwsREqPk9CWgRO-jNbD1Cx772MsYbEjdWuXS7BxOfRhE92FNMORFec=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>I almost had a fabulous shot of this Hermit Thrush in good light, but my camera wouldn’t focus, even though the entire focus rectangle was occupied by the bird. So I had to settle for this underexposed and grainy shot when it retreated to this shadier spot.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjGUU222lj1j4kjY5TOjh8emrRfOZNyGW-Rt7NvvxeT4Q3mUZjAqPoLrq5yN46HYtik4NPZWwhdNYahzJvQLoxMlpNv1FiqI8HrOCZ_82vpRXYzwxZy18GioE0LfSngjXMCD_aRvIk1i2AMU4KadTOas_ayn43HtXXTLDvFEuJAUNr1Xzo39T0MnSOh=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="681" data-original-width="1000" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjGUU222lj1j4kjY5TOjh8emrRfOZNyGW-Rt7NvvxeT4Q3mUZjAqPoLrq5yN46HYtik4NPZWwhdNYahzJvQLoxMlpNv1FiqI8HrOCZ_82vpRXYzwxZy18GioE0LfSngjXMCD_aRvIk1i2AMU4KadTOas_ayn43HtXXTLDvFEuJAUNr1Xzo39T0MnSOh=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>As I was bicycling out of the county park, I stopped for one last kinglet-chickadee flock to find this cryptic Hutton's Vireo hiding amongst the kinglets. Notice the blue-gray feet and the dark blotch breaking the top of the eye ring.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjgV7hUsMZSvDOc9vX_g6Wl5QJZg_2iRFla_yni87p6ItTMBmGR3M-cEbndZ9QtaAUxjz-OcZ05O6EOhhw-RRYHNAJ8DG-3jdoUVUlMElDJdzLqPUwYBmLnhlqkxGRDFVvbiqjsbLrSCeRMesM3VlqPKHA0OVW2m7JOjAcx4aYT-r-dhUTfzEwGQgr-=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="982" data-original-width="1000" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjgV7hUsMZSvDOc9vX_g6Wl5QJZg_2iRFla_yni87p6ItTMBmGR3M-cEbndZ9QtaAUxjz-OcZ05O6EOhhw-RRYHNAJ8DG-3jdoUVUlMElDJdzLqPUwYBmLnhlqkxGRDFVvbiqjsbLrSCeRMesM3VlqPKHA0OVW2m7JOjAcx4aYT-r-dhUTfzEwGQgr-=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>I made a very late afternoon check on one last gravel pit on my way home. I was surprised to see a big flock of about 20 Wilson's Snipes flush from the shore — then shocked as more and more kept flushing. I eventually settled on an estimate of 90 birds wheeling around, attempting to settle back on the shore and repeatedly flushing even though I was not closer than 50 yards away.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjZeSWMT-VbJuoH1p0yhSq0GF8PKqiisl392w54VKLKQBjQFksBFGiZXMHdOuwBjUDWJwcUS91PH2tlqohLCsU6JmJlSnyT23_xSrNNyxwGxOOM-VujNGZLD5dGORf9Tm1Q0PIeACCQqig-8RvCtSSf7zNE0YmP1sDcXajW3N-3xMQLEVxCq-57r6l5=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjZeSWMT-VbJuoH1p0yhSq0GF8PKqiisl392w54VKLKQBjQFksBFGiZXMHdOuwBjUDWJwcUS91PH2tlqohLCsU6JmJlSnyT23_xSrNNyxwGxOOM-VujNGZLD5dGORf9Tm1Q0PIeACCQqig-8RvCtSSf7zNE0YmP1sDcXajW3N-3xMQLEVxCq-57r6l5=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>The current covid protocols prevented the classic CBC gathering at the end of the day, but the Zoom meeting was a suitable substitute, where we learned about fun sightings of Western Sandpiper, American Bittern, Barred Owl, Redhead, Barn Swallow, and Snowy Egret.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhbdjaJVkomQ9TcvlMYsANyY2CJXEn1tZ1OB5qNNxSF6IutwsyjLx_JKi8Q9ns8SSBEJseOaei2zcnh0dOiWEFH50NAvEdGH1fuEnV-1combMPC3RHQ_P5reaYh94QqnUMu0GTZsNOQBLN7SJo9KruAkCkwNN5mi0kAhElKRTAQUDUNVm9SMHwKAuTV=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="563" data-original-width="1000" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhbdjaJVkomQ9TcvlMYsANyY2CJXEn1tZ1OB5qNNxSF6IutwsyjLx_JKi8Q9ns8SSBEJseOaei2zcnh0dOiWEFH50NAvEdGH1fuEnV-1combMPC3RHQ_P5reaYh94QqnUMu0GTZsNOQBLN7SJo9KruAkCkwNN5mi0kAhElKRTAQUDUNVm9SMHwKAuTV=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-27748815269703213432021-12-23T18:35:00.010-08:002021-12-30T14:26:50.860-08:00Bountiful Brazilian Beetles<p>My recent 18-day tour to Brazil may have been more about mushrooms, but there’s a lot to look at in the Amazon rainforest. These beetles I photographed below are a good example. Most people have heard that beetles are the most speciose group of animals in the world, but some experts have been saying recently they may be outnumbered by wasps. Most are so tiny you would never notice them, but the big, showy ones – let’s call them macrobeetles – are diverse and beautiful enough to elicit an “inordinate fondess” from any biologist. I only started paying much attention to beetles because of my friend Margarethe Brummerman, who I first got to know through mothing and birding outings in SE Arizona, and her fascination with beetles got me to look a lot more at them. I really look forward to the book she is co-authoring and illustrating on the beetles of Arizona.</p><p>Most of the beetles below were at Pousada Rio Roosevelt in the state of Amazonas, but a few were from Mato Grosso, where we were briefly in the Pantanal and a few days at the ecolodge Jardim da Amazônia.</p><p>My favorites are the pleasing fungus beetles, family Erotylidae. These should not be confused with other families of beetles that are associated with fungi, such as Endomychidae (the handsome fungus beetles) or Cryptophagidae (the silken fungus beetles). I laugh, because I’ve only barely heard of those too and had to look them up to mention them here. The better-known Erotylidae are usually large (the diameter of a dime or penny) and often with striking patterns.</p><p><strike><i>Erotylus mirabilis</i> is deserving of the specific epithet, meaning “marvelous.” </strike></p><p>Update: This is apparently the similar <i>Erotylus elegantulus. </i>Also a nice name – it means "a little elegant."</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj08l7DiuF-qfiNK9KW14ecmArp10y7eXZoiY-OpBL3DpllLJMKweN6Z-vdkIF8uW8ks91zSEPSHWP99MV3H4yk6j2detSBGI8Eu9DyXMb_dDH6O8obiQLgCDlhEUZ95qBIp3opA0x_ty2CdDc3BRk2_nWecBKBCs94yYuQUHc2OJFN3QeWN92isQ-a=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Erotylus mirabilis" border="0" data-original-height="919" data-original-width="1000" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj08l7DiuF-qfiNK9KW14ecmArp10y7eXZoiY-OpBL3DpllLJMKweN6Z-vdkIF8uW8ks91zSEPSHWP99MV3H4yk6j2detSBGI8Eu9DyXMb_dDH6O8obiQLgCDlhEUZ95qBIp3opA0x_ty2CdDc3BRk2_nWecBKBCs94yYuQUHc2OJFN3QeWN92isQ-a=w320-h294" title="Erotylus mirabilis" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p><i>Erotylus pretiosus</i> is no less marvelous, however.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgcpw27lwBNcVCgPrhbQLIZnbPvwuyMFcUzuALbKalhFTM6xucpV9EP3fkabTHHk_7MBmw1yn_kd4EHQfMgT1ZBtxVivjkGQ1jzPXyXKBN6TK3f9yD39i4yFjlcNxpHL1-C9ygouUp9YFXOYj8y6iBxP7JvtA6UCx2OPScZbPOlSu5fj5hPMZfw3bX_=s1000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Erotylus pretiosus" border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="625" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgcpw27lwBNcVCgPrhbQLIZnbPvwuyMFcUzuALbKalhFTM6xucpV9EP3fkabTHHk_7MBmw1yn_kd4EHQfMgT1ZBtxVivjkGQ1jzPXyXKBN6TK3f9yD39i4yFjlcNxpHL1-C9ygouUp9YFXOYj8y6iBxP7JvtA6UCx2OPScZbPOlSu5fj5hPMZfw3bX_=w200-h320" title="Erotylus pretiosus" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>This one I have only to genus, <i>Erotylina.</i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjmqkQGDAgihQbAVteBoUpqMlpOWoEZGzTBY2nBF0d0qfODq41P0W072qDSa4ZxBDeIaVVFl6DmxOokbGaO6_xFGI5ax8F6Bw7Rc2OfSvNClnVCS3ZBK-lwaRh_RNXMvN7D921ME7Xb-27f49qS6j1A_3IxrlnUki6JqoeEnGX192O0PCHb48B5Mwbd=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Erotylina" border="0" data-original-height="880" data-original-width="1000" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjmqkQGDAgihQbAVteBoUpqMlpOWoEZGzTBY2nBF0d0qfODq41P0W072qDSa4ZxBDeIaVVFl6DmxOokbGaO6_xFGI5ax8F6Bw7Rc2OfSvNClnVCS3ZBK-lwaRh_RNXMvN7D921ME7Xb-27f49qS6j1A_3IxrlnUki6JqoeEnGX192O0PCHb48B5Mwbd=w320-h282" title="Erotylina" width="320" /></a></i></div><br /><p></p><p></p><p>This <i>Ellipticus dorbignyi</i> is the only species I had seen before; it seems to be one of the more common and widespread species in Amazonia.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgKE-pCTnNNF63MqgrHjkPKMxmNpKpj8-4_HIUoG0SqoRfH4Uv0IW3ga1dKqIXjCw1PJPq2ley0wJBun36h14yGz39TxY1Zhyfhnd5zw5nfPB2LDX5mu0H1JJRSV6kQrvY14gjFoYxsMaNtiXGU3vbf058cyxrnh6qOlkKbP42YQhq_-J0RseTR0q6z=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Ellipticus dorbignyi" border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="887" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgKE-pCTnNNF63MqgrHjkPKMxmNpKpj8-4_HIUoG0SqoRfH4Uv0IW3ga1dKqIXjCw1PJPq2ley0wJBun36h14yGz39TxY1Zhyfhnd5zw5nfPB2LDX5mu0H1JJRSV6kQrvY14gjFoYxsMaNtiXGU3vbf058cyxrnh6qOlkKbP42YQhq_-J0RseTR0q6z=w284-h320" title="Ellipticus dorbignyi" width="284" /></a></div><p></p><p>There are many species in the genus <i>Iphiclus</i>.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgNFA4HyGj1B2aXeD-VZo1nBrqVRsJEi2-VltkuFIULIkZWAS4b6S0FX8wSURhEI7LwS--i62ZawqcH3DOs4ZVMK6pkK0-fur4_EyrvVXAbXliZbPJR46yUKGv5Kpg7da8Q1-BfnoD2DnbbTAabq8Y_RpY4JSTOuC_Ov9x0R2cA-i5khn1NBHN3qw9i=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Iphiclus" border="0" data-original-height="642" data-original-width="1000" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgNFA4HyGj1B2aXeD-VZo1nBrqVRsJEi2-VltkuFIULIkZWAS4b6S0FX8wSURhEI7LwS--i62ZawqcH3DOs4ZVMK6pkK0-fur4_EyrvVXAbXliZbPJR46yUKGv5Kpg7da8Q1-BfnoD2DnbbTAabq8Y_RpY4JSTOuC_Ov9x0R2cA-i5khn1NBHN3qw9i=w320-h205" title="Iphiclus" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>This <i>Pselaphacus sp.</i> was the most interesting pleasing fungus beetle on account of its behavior. It was off to the side of a loose group of its larvae on a fallen branch, and they seemed to be feasting on a small bit of mushroom and rather spread out. When we got closer for photos, we may have alarmed it, as it walked over to the larvae and herded them away and onto a larger piece of mushroom, joining several other larvae, and the whole group then coalesced into an amorphous blob that I suspect would have looked less like food to a potential predator than singly wandering larvae.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjwTmNUAKgrJk8ZNIYM3aGf2p9yP8XfGbJ3GUVxocaiQV1oOBayxXVtN2hFDNhfMWHK8AlcyuliCid82rtGil_Oc4_e3A1l4N5_nelOTcPsiULANoznmOFKFB7hluiev5V9mkFPezjwatSYOOl-4t_gK-SEoQ-3HpjQtunuaPi5Dy4K83rQRDXr4CXU=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Pselaphacus" border="0" data-original-height="798" data-original-width="1000" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjwTmNUAKgrJk8ZNIYM3aGf2p9yP8XfGbJ3GUVxocaiQV1oOBayxXVtN2hFDNhfMWHK8AlcyuliCid82rtGil_Oc4_e3A1l4N5_nelOTcPsiULANoznmOFKFB7hluiev5V9mkFPezjwatSYOOl-4t_gK-SEoQ-3HpjQtunuaPi5Dy4K83rQRDXr4CXU=w320-h255" title="Pselaphacus" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEih1Cflw_9eZ2_08vJe16Mi9vsjCVq03oErSqXoFvlUSK0-bVaWUtF_pTKsBHiQVh8znDrgkiGfxekpZnV2cVf50nBd2fs6QUTxieWQ79YRAZ6j7vCPZLr7gvCzEmBp_sI5bOIosbFlnZXHzvdzU1HW0umd0ZGf9FJrjtfLqTspenEELN_bMZPvzTa8=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Pselaphacus" border="0" data-original-height="795" data-original-width="1000" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEih1Cflw_9eZ2_08vJe16Mi9vsjCVq03oErSqXoFvlUSK0-bVaWUtF_pTKsBHiQVh8znDrgkiGfxekpZnV2cVf50nBd2fs6QUTxieWQ79YRAZ6j7vCPZLr7gvCzEmBp_sI5bOIosbFlnZXHzvdzU1HW0umd0ZGf9FJrjtfLqTspenEELN_bMZPvzTa8=w320-h254" title="Pselaphacus" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>I’m also a huge fan of Longhorn beetles, family Cerambycidae, as they are often large and colorful with distinctive field marks. This pretty one is the widespread <i>Chlorida festiva</i>, though it’s not as distinguished with its feet all tangled up in spiderwebs after crawling around on the dining hall screen at our Pantanal lodge. I’ve seen it twice before, in Jamaica and in Costa Rica.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj5PE28mKa7yd74LieNZDShIe6LOsjsoYUtE46czPRx4b28BIqhKwBGG6vxGZ4O94izi_Ks__FLtBj5HwHFDIIfOB1Y7x-hm6yeI5yzjOV7rQM0rrzP4QvcYVFPdi2C_97U8FIfhjw9FtC7oo9VZJD23V66lfM-SqL93WjvyEiNGluYg8dDfLTSzSWA=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Chlorida festiva" border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="870" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj5PE28mKa7yd74LieNZDShIe6LOsjsoYUtE46czPRx4b28BIqhKwBGG6vxGZ4O94izi_Ks__FLtBj5HwHFDIIfOB1Y7x-hm6yeI5yzjOV7rQM0rrzP4QvcYVFPdi2C_97U8FIfhjw9FtC7oo9VZJD23V66lfM-SqL93WjvyEiNGluYg8dDfLTSzSWA=w278-h320" title="Chlorida festiva" width="278" /></a></div><p></p><p>This huge one is <i>Colobothea eximia</i>, a new one for me.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiD1-ntmBoaJBqyLq_J3W7zaQ4VFp4Dih-qfJdHLHrnhyBZEMVt7zLGLgCBe1-7P7i_tfOEnWtHf4lpKa9avCTOHV-QOzatxXeI-nFa3u0RJXiEKX16O0DRBzIAapJ58nS_7nhMWlDALJhwrIzbVCZLsW3ewDxGa8h2MkffFH2YbFmpmyadsEVbiTfX=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Colobothea eximia" border="0" data-original-height="635" data-original-width="1000" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiD1-ntmBoaJBqyLq_J3W7zaQ4VFp4Dih-qfJdHLHrnhyBZEMVt7zLGLgCBe1-7P7i_tfOEnWtHf4lpKa9avCTOHV-QOzatxXeI-nFa3u0RJXiEKX16O0DRBzIAapJ58nS_7nhMWlDALJhwrIzbVCZLsW3ewDxGa8h2MkffFH2YbFmpmyadsEVbiTfX=w320-h203" title="Colobothea eximia" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><p>Click beetles are always fun, and though they can be large and interesting like longhorns, they often lack distinctive field marks. Many are just brown or black, and you have to go on very subtle differences in structure to ID them. The genus <i>Pyrophorus</i> is unusual among beetles in bearing these two glowing lights at the distal corners of the thorax. At night they are incredibly bright as they fly through the forest and are often mistaken for fireflies. They are usually much brighter and don’t have a blinking pattern though.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiqO1E7hKj8c4XiMoKxEZ75VTZ1Wj0lw1zP1x3P5Ke4IpGjmkehLRTm4YixPT9_LgP2E6Igp4xCBdJAs2io6WZQD0F-AzJ50-nFjPsajsMpf-mma6YedTlOgI4roBHmURehnu1BpOS3SE45jZ3IZk7tRQI8ZMTmiVk2GYxIFlQdQb748icY2TM5dKxG=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Pyrophorus" border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="709" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiqO1E7hKj8c4XiMoKxEZ75VTZ1Wj0lw1zP1x3P5Ke4IpGjmkehLRTm4YixPT9_LgP2E6Igp4xCBdJAs2io6WZQD0F-AzJ50-nFjPsajsMpf-mma6YedTlOgI4roBHmURehnu1BpOS3SE45jZ3IZk7tRQI8ZMTmiVk2GYxIFlQdQb748icY2TM5dKxG=w227-h320" title="Pyrophorus" width="227" /></a></div><p></p><p>On the other hand, not all fireflies – members of the family Lampyridae (an easy name to remember) – have a blinking tip to the abdomen. I found this colorful one, probably in the genus <i>Lucidota</i>, during the day, and I suspect it lacks bioluminescence.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgWoTPzddtQVGmOpzY4sdbr2laABpspJ4VsSNpOU_-Dv6Re5ZEuyIx1BuIEm6KKhc_QaRx_BTXPE5E1RoxJBy2Bg0HlaxQB6aWCY7QBC5GybUVkV8kvuNDHJWcvghN6K3p7toIllidKGvomUhX_QI9hbpVgEF1t9Gf4AG_-h5lgXyAv5bwuKXShbN0o=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Lucidota" border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="903" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgWoTPzddtQVGmOpzY4sdbr2laABpspJ4VsSNpOU_-Dv6Re5ZEuyIx1BuIEm6KKhc_QaRx_BTXPE5E1RoxJBy2Bg0HlaxQB6aWCY7QBC5GybUVkV8kvuNDHJWcvghN6K3p7toIllidKGvomUhX_QI9hbpVgEF1t9Gf4AG_-h5lgXyAv5bwuKXShbN0o=w289-h320" title="Lucidota" width="289" /></a></div><p></p><p>The family Scarabaeidae is one of the most familiar to people. This rhinoceros beetle looks to be female of the species with the ridiculous name <i>Enema pan</i>.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgDwfhM7F2eH_anNeFjXPQCaKvBmaI-VOrxa12gfDbb2lktexCgxxyK3OcvX9aWUwleqFaBqPMcyBQuDFTyxUSoUJ1iahE0X78dublzAt6ayo8XI2UyOoFlpSo-vKxFsFZK49DSfj2E_dcGgQmHMCktzCtBPT6HyQvSH2VSzhFNPd43x2h2gOHrL1cY=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Enema pan" border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="894" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgDwfhM7F2eH_anNeFjXPQCaKvBmaI-VOrxa12gfDbb2lktexCgxxyK3OcvX9aWUwleqFaBqPMcyBQuDFTyxUSoUJ1iahE0X78dublzAt6ayo8XI2UyOoFlpSo-vKxFsFZK49DSfj2E_dcGgQmHMCktzCtBPT6HyQvSH2VSzhFNPd43x2h2gOHrL1cY=w286-h320" title="Enema pan" width="286" /></a></div><p></p><p>The subfamily Scarabaeinae is where the thousands of species of dung beetles belong. Hundreds of them are still undescribed, and since no one has ever collected here, these three species could be new, and I haven’t tried to pin a name on them. They sit on top of leaves in the forest understory, just waiting for a waft of animal poop to come their way, and they then home in with precision for a fecal feast.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhCuBLNoojfBzE0WT1SSwaYzjn7lmj5cGYPlCCAp508VcTDB2u9a2BgJi9oOT6gy1lL2GyWTNAvt58puCT4BsOOHcR8Y9ZQOxqMkFswyLddEEYC811aQmwagCPgrRxRS6gJj7LMh4nfCByL92QMbWMwdgz8sU4vj1pgPNw5i1j-VouwO1CJnBmLpVMy=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Scarabaeinae" border="0" data-original-height="695" data-original-width="1000" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhCuBLNoojfBzE0WT1SSwaYzjn7lmj5cGYPlCCAp508VcTDB2u9a2BgJi9oOT6gy1lL2GyWTNAvt58puCT4BsOOHcR8Y9ZQOxqMkFswyLddEEYC811aQmwagCPgrRxRS6gJj7LMh4nfCByL92QMbWMwdgz8sU4vj1pgPNw5i1j-VouwO1CJnBmLpVMy=w320-h222" title="Scarabaeinae" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjPrz7hviJ8YSyHxdrS_V3bf2iJGxz2X_Cem8Q775keZ34_L4grceWFr8glbstpxhAJxVfQiOeT3lps1K2UW7FAVNWmVkO4imEJp6yaFw518gpAGQWdYva2SMgjkBJAwTGai3O2Ae5JL-ThMp60I7ihE3o_Pxc8eXHvIUzg5bPuw6k0789Pw-7ooLxO=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Scarabaeinae" border="0" data-original-height="859" data-original-width="1000" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjPrz7hviJ8YSyHxdrS_V3bf2iJGxz2X_Cem8Q775keZ34_L4grceWFr8glbstpxhAJxVfQiOeT3lps1K2UW7FAVNWmVkO4imEJp6yaFw518gpAGQWdYva2SMgjkBJAwTGai3O2Ae5JL-ThMp60I7ihE3o_Pxc8eXHvIUzg5bPuw6k0789Pw-7ooLxO=w320-h275" title="Scarabaeinae" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgoy0LfoQFAkYLFEtu7hf87Pd1RAZ_uULfCjdqGjCME0uRhcp6_xnOGEYkxuwOlzesBIoGj4w8LT_OYOZTd-nn8zoY65h4Qfs6bl7w2P5Z4yeFYne_Iti-ujCex2acbY8CE3MdneA5QILDpWtP4ilH3u5Nh7K896tL4bClutzTHtyK9bFz7WAd2D3t2=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Scarabaeinae" border="0" data-original-height="559" data-original-width="1000" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgoy0LfoQFAkYLFEtu7hf87Pd1RAZ_uULfCjdqGjCME0uRhcp6_xnOGEYkxuwOlzesBIoGj4w8LT_OYOZTd-nn8zoY65h4Qfs6bl7w2P5Z4yeFYne_Iti-ujCex2acbY8CE3MdneA5QILDpWtP4ilH3u5Nh7K896tL4bClutzTHtyK9bFz7WAd2D3t2=w320-h179" title="Scarabaeinae" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>The family Tenebrionidae, the darkling beetles, is not a well-known name, but almost everyone has seen members of this family. They are diverse not only in species but also in size, shape, and color, and I rarely get the family right on the more obscure ones. Thanks to Enrico A. R. Tosto on iNaturalist, I now know that these little bark-huggers are darkling beetles in the subfamily Nilioninae, though I had guessed they were leaf beetles, due to their similar shape to tortoise beetles. I didn’t look closely enough at their antennae and legs.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjBmNKfXpU94s3xJrXeL8V62oMr8aEAiBT6YEFzUNHP9NfsTEMyMADczLr6dsioES1w-m_LME3c8Sk7-T8hWxuO0EDZwJTmdSrdDLSjVQXiZmHZ-Eo70ygNM2aTprY0dLyyUZOf8jTqNbJNMnDQNUMcF50AKZ8BNZ3UWE1nyLTnzDchzU3a7ibTewc8=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Nilioninae" border="0" data-original-height="695" data-original-width="1000" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjBmNKfXpU94s3xJrXeL8V62oMr8aEAiBT6YEFzUNHP9NfsTEMyMADczLr6dsioES1w-m_LME3c8Sk7-T8hWxuO0EDZwJTmdSrdDLSjVQXiZmHZ-Eo70ygNM2aTprY0dLyyUZOf8jTqNbJNMnDQNUMcF50AKZ8BNZ3UWE1nyLTnzDchzU3a7ibTewc8=w320-h222" title="Nilioninae" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_QvO0czZpGFHFKSI7rXOpaMXzug_MYT9Vgcv97uz6rOLn6JI4CHc1WHGKHpcxmACtFQ2jipYmQeOCLhayezUwFi0efxcLPoR9gWYJSZl16gtoU7QWbaB03wb91k3VDXrPkN8An5RB4voXarQmSWsMaQ3ujRbCl22vYK5ZdZEQsBt6Q_8zFTKC55D_=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Nilioninae" border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="927" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_QvO0czZpGFHFKSI7rXOpaMXzug_MYT9Vgcv97uz6rOLn6JI4CHc1WHGKHpcxmACtFQ2jipYmQeOCLhayezUwFi0efxcLPoR9gWYJSZl16gtoU7QWbaB03wb91k3VDXrPkN8An5RB4voXarQmSWsMaQ3ujRbCl22vYK5ZdZEQsBt6Q_8zFTKC55D_=w297-h320" title="Nilioninae" width="297" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p>This darkling beetle in the genus <i>Poecilesthus</i> is slightly more typical in size and shape, yet I still did not recognize it. The way the eyes half wrap around the base of the antennae led me to believe it was a longhorn beetle. I might just give up on trying to know Tenebrionidae.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEikIJUrB88dMmvcKbQ8U2P2P1VbeAAqEnz9fQbQYK0nEXL2C8kLbhaeI_uidd8vsswytN35qyjEv6SuAqX_mgy0W1FNGNokplIHD2LrE8DsU3nkI7egHyZt88p3U7pi6OEgCUZIgSnrqwyWwyn_vNj4KCWtD3uA5rQBRUt_rl2pza6qSKLoP3xY7nXF=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Poecilesthus" border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="871" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEikIJUrB88dMmvcKbQ8U2P2P1VbeAAqEnz9fQbQYK0nEXL2C8kLbhaeI_uidd8vsswytN35qyjEv6SuAqX_mgy0W1FNGNokplIHD2LrE8DsU3nkI7egHyZt88p3U7pi6OEgCUZIgSnrqwyWwyn_vNj4KCWtD3uA5rQBRUt_rl2pza6qSKLoP3xY7nXF=w279-h320" title="Poecilesthus" width="279" /></a></div><p></p><p>I did see a leaf beetle, a member of the family Chrysomelidae, but I wouldn’t have guessed it. This fat, palm fruit-predating larva is probably <i>Pachymerus nucleorum</i>. Our local guide cut open the palm nut to offer it to us as a late morning snack. I might have tried it fried, but neither of us was hungry enough to pop a fresh live one into our mouths.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgl4fqjl6GfL6mUQioDJDafKDbVw-RFzB7cShWxl6uampXzPUjM3eh1-3XDTFbJZWzNNcFX3EAHK6j8xFGpRL8c8B6r-61EedBhA-espj0FYXT9lrCVbgCFS9apZbwoT2VV1f18ynFQqlq_h63SRWtO9k7yyURLnfvdgsKYrXzUmoPsHBhAWDbgXvuX=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Pachymerus nucleorum" border="0" data-original-height="677" data-original-width="1000" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgl4fqjl6GfL6mUQioDJDafKDbVw-RFzB7cShWxl6uampXzPUjM3eh1-3XDTFbJZWzNNcFX3EAHK6j8xFGpRL8c8B6r-61EedBhA-espj0FYXT9lrCVbgCFS9apZbwoT2VV1f18ynFQqlq_h63SRWtO9k7yyURLnfvdgsKYrXzUmoPsHBhAWDbgXvuX=w320-h217" title="Pachymerus nucleorum" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>Carabidae are the hunting beetles, though a lot are also scavengers, and of course the diversity of species means there are also many other ways they make their living. But there can be no doubt that this nocturnal, sand-dwelling monster <i>Phaeoxantha klugii</i> is a fierce predator.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjrYzNVF9shSZHIT1NWA5ZsvPgLCeVXJNsbiPj5YDpBNWiJ4r_iSKZd9hMZumTBsuFOxI4wGnycpdiaShL1JBSS4EFaoGMCuuEmAWx62IQLGZkDhZAO8VuDCMiD2G5pxPJOwZtKUMGfoEDBRutKgnJvBfXX7H1ZPrGtm-PB_PimPSUWEUICSKATFGv2=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Phaeoxantha klugii" border="0" data-original-height="479" data-original-width="1000" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjrYzNVF9shSZHIT1NWA5ZsvPgLCeVXJNsbiPj5YDpBNWiJ4r_iSKZd9hMZumTBsuFOxI4wGnycpdiaShL1JBSS4EFaoGMCuuEmAWx62IQLGZkDhZAO8VuDCMiD2G5pxPJOwZtKUMGfoEDBRutKgnJvBfXX7H1ZPrGtm-PB_PimPSUWEUICSKATFGv2=w320-h153" title="Phaeoxantha klugii" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>A hugely diverse family of beetles are the rove beetles, family Staphylinidae. Most are super tiny, but this one in the genus <i>Glenus</i> is gigantic compared to most, and it’s probably a voracious predator as well. We found several roaming around the forest floor, always near leafcutter ant nests, but we never saw what they were hunting, as they seemed to ignore the ants.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhsXXGIN5K36YC1m6DtgR-CXQoMFUMKVBoahBQ8lJIj7CHInuAfXvLa8VPEOV1FToEuvJQ49Ep71W5uR15Fd0e2n7NqCcEEC2YYJb3h8HHxvrOL9zBmXdEZnk_lspFAJTZ7d5RVmJwGAYlc2ZXkeiyqbFWJRPH7yvBb_qTK6ltCMFH-vOh6h2Ackb03=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Glenus" border="0" data-original-height="617" data-original-width="1000" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhsXXGIN5K36YC1m6DtgR-CXQoMFUMKVBoahBQ8lJIj7CHInuAfXvLa8VPEOV1FToEuvJQ49Ep71W5uR15Fd0e2n7NqCcEEC2YYJb3h8HHxvrOL9zBmXdEZnk_lspFAJTZ7d5RVmJwGAYlc2ZXkeiyqbFWJRPH7yvBb_qTK6ltCMFH-vOh6h2Ackb03=w320-h197" title="Glenus" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>Weevils are cute. But not all weevils are weevils. This one, for example is in the family Brentidae, the so-called “primitive weevils.”</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjZuS1GCQQf0MSdZOj8sVQ1i10Kq3VDO1p0Jc0PYkOWnZiFi8kOkIl2YzYI1m2blis63C1r3vE8fYCTyeN9EtxgLlUxcjbzFtjNkw2eMFrlCgrWD1mHjwG5cSV00yIC94ithKeC4jlsZ5KHzSWXUefau8sbq-0M4ulPjd3nlfOvLWunuO8ZD3xzN7-r=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Brentidae" border="0" data-original-height="333" data-original-width="1000" height="107" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjZuS1GCQQf0MSdZOj8sVQ1i10Kq3VDO1p0Jc0PYkOWnZiFi8kOkIl2YzYI1m2blis63C1r3vE8fYCTyeN9EtxgLlUxcjbzFtjNkw2eMFrlCgrWD1mHjwG5cSV00yIC94ithKeC4jlsZ5KHzSWXUefau8sbq-0M4ulPjd3nlfOvLWunuO8ZD3xzN7-r=w320-h107" title="Brentidae" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>The “true weevils” that most people recognize are the megadiverse Curculionidae. This one, possibly in the genus <i>Cholus</i>, reveals an amazing pattern of scales and spangles with a close-up shot. It’s curled up in a defensive posture here.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgm9_g8RRCdlcFISnte7R2uR-0-tB3kRpn7XNQDOWI8QROKzTpDra9sRCDetXpznCjGRC0gQEuE2ql8Mr5FhJhGSBVJUH09RM13d8Mg2i2mOSPmSO34-vBCvU-K76VHzLUNnkNYDb3iT19MVYOubOlS5x0gk5dnAZB3eDfEvj-VLywaitnHgITTcSOr=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Cholus" border="0" data-original-height="765" data-original-width="1000" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgm9_g8RRCdlcFISnte7R2uR-0-tB3kRpn7XNQDOWI8QROKzTpDra9sRCDetXpznCjGRC0gQEuE2ql8Mr5FhJhGSBVJUH09RM13d8Mg2i2mOSPmSO34-vBCvU-K76VHzLUNnkNYDb3iT19MVYOubOlS5x0gk5dnAZB3eDfEvj-VLywaitnHgITTcSOr=w320-h245" title="Cholus" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>This tiny but beautiful weevil is in the subfamily Baridinae.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjMAeB2Z6QMqgbZlPBkTAPG73sqP0AwK0Zt38VFwu-6HINjPGQW6hYeG8Lo5OQiadRRSew6W8Tt1RPtUA-i9by2GpUE4yd7pO5CVEfYWJvxtCXoruzRvby9YTGPczwQXkMrnVbXdOaKNldwv6-CR_yCdEZhWfOpLEJJKbHLtCLGqyjKdAx7Nv3MjQ1T=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Baridinae" border="0" data-original-height="670" data-original-width="1000" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjMAeB2Z6QMqgbZlPBkTAPG73sqP0AwK0Zt38VFwu-6HINjPGQW6hYeG8Lo5OQiadRRSew6W8Tt1RPtUA-i9by2GpUE4yd7pO5CVEfYWJvxtCXoruzRvby9YTGPczwQXkMrnVbXdOaKNldwv6-CR_yCdEZhWfOpLEJJKbHLtCLGqyjKdAx7Nv3MjQ1T=w320-h214" title="Baridinae" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>Finally, a family of little beetles that any beetle afficionado would instantly recognize – Nitidulidae, the Sap-feeding Beetles. But since I have only seen about three before (out of about 4500 species worldwide), I failed to notice how distinctive those adorable little antennae are and assumed it was another Chrysomelid at first. Incidentally, if someone wants to edit the Wikipedia article on the family, it’s horribly written, riddled with errors, and obviously painfully incomplete.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEggPk9CB18vj417UzDxJ2bWx6bGtu05-3b4RRdaavTTleYpTq1947j-QpjXDHilkJdeP3q5JasPCxNNYocIB3PkJtF44COy09IQs_PizU9_hOU3qhhsnEElUbKzSyXa6WkNabzLnKr-sm6FynjuufIRmF8-fP10kaprtetqo_m3ICKv1dMPlKYYtpII=s1284" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Nitidulidae" border="0" data-original-height="1284" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEggPk9CB18vj417UzDxJ2bWx6bGtu05-3b4RRdaavTTleYpTq1947j-QpjXDHilkJdeP3q5JasPCxNNYocIB3PkJtF44COy09IQs_PizU9_hOU3qhhsnEElUbKzSyXa6WkNabzLnKr-sm6FynjuufIRmF8-fP10kaprtetqo_m3ICKv1dMPlKYYtpII=w249-h320" title="Nitidulidae" width="249" /></a></div><p></p>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-74066301199572664432021-11-14T17:36:00.004-08:002021-11-14T17:38:20.471-08:00 Mushrooming in Brazil<p>I’ve just returned home from an 18-day private tour with a single client to Brazil, from southern Amazonia to the northern Pantanal, crossing the great watershed divide between the central Atlantic (Amazon River) and southern Atlantic (Paraná River). My tour participant, Susanne Sourell, is actually a very advanced amateur fungus expert, and we’ve been on several tours together. She knows much more about finding and identifying fungi than I do, so I while I was often able to help find them and co-marvel in their amazing beauty and diversity, I pointed out birds, plants, and all kinds of other things – which was a lot. Maybe I’ll post more blogs on those later, but for now I just wanted to share a few of the photos of the incredible mushrooms we found.</p><p>Most people think of the shape of these gorgeous Green-spored Parasols,<i> Chlorophyllum molybdites</i>, when they hear the word mushroom.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiOpA1ZzTYkrod5ccW9bNOWTg1ereMqzlOgNjJzjlkO66G3rb5ysx2Zy6TLS42nWTEXXzy9P9LrGR6Wy8KlnqAZ8cssjxZrYwG0C5le2xRVkKErrt95rLp52Mm4OUtEGt5Gcy9bLlJjsyilfWvn--obzbiCnkZzvvReDaaaTVO-ChsXd24ahCDVo6ZS=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="757" data-original-width="1000" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiOpA1ZzTYkrod5ccW9bNOWTg1ereMqzlOgNjJzjlkO66G3rb5ysx2Zy6TLS42nWTEXXzy9P9LrGR6Wy8KlnqAZ8cssjxZrYwG0C5le2xRVkKErrt95rLp52Mm4OUtEGt5Gcy9bLlJjsyilfWvn--obzbiCnkZzvvReDaaaTVO-ChsXd24ahCDVo6ZS=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">This delicate, little <i>Leucocoprinus sp. </i>is clearly shaped like a typical mushroom, but you have to get on your </span><span style="text-align: left;">hands and knees to see them.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><p style="text-align: left;"></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgdCXZa0PuB-FQzjf39cWAic2qOS5Wkg5HsKxmBGtbz7sJKyV-TNVO45B0w8czWraAhU8Jpg8zKWPl3AKSlO6BuyRcD3C0tL8CsN8WYEAjnywBwQZ3CJcTbgZrX0pQf_QrGdl8VrF5xbtMQmkAefmKoP8L80M_h5lWpB7_zvSvVWnHsQ_hno4ux2Z-8=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /><img border="0" data-original-height="789" data-original-width="1000" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgdCXZa0PuB-FQzjf39cWAic2qOS5Wkg5HsKxmBGtbz7sJKyV-TNVO45B0w8czWraAhU8Jpg8zKWPl3AKSlO6BuyRcD3C0tL8CsN8WYEAjnywBwQZ3CJcTbgZrX0pQf_QrGdl8VrF5xbtMQmkAefmKoP8L80M_h5lWpB7_zvSvVWnHsQ_hno4ux2Z-8=s320" width="320" /></a></div></div><br /><p></p><p>Some grow in very attractive arrangements, like this <i>Marasmiellus volvatus</i>.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgRlE_G807TMjBt_tCt863-f-M7pShrFzgFkooqVJT3moXJLZFUWqPp4cMluWFK6DYywx3ovGHBcVTD7yo8IusmzV8NS8DRyuIUPj-vjE2rbO_jGgXYBXnu_vnuUUWHnJ3La6EBe0vbCEK2ZgctbKc8TQsUh50iZHkoOZ86F0v8jgqP2lvESumfkGA2=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="790" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgRlE_G807TMjBt_tCt863-f-M7pShrFzgFkooqVJT3moXJLZFUWqPp4cMluWFK6DYywx3ovGHBcVTD7yo8IusmzV8NS8DRyuIUPj-vjE2rbO_jGgXYBXnu_vnuUUWHnJ3La6EBe0vbCEK2ZgctbKc8TQsUh50iZHkoOZ86F0v8jgqP2lvESumfkGA2=s320" width="253" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p>But a mushroom is any kind of external fruiting body from a fungal organism. As you look at these photos, keep in mind that the main, functional part of the organism known as a fungus is otherwise largely hidden from our view as it grows, feeds, and interacts with its environment (including with other organisms). The mushroom itself is only a very small – and usually very temporary – part of the organism, which can be huge and live for many years. And with the incredible diversity of fungi, you can imagine there must be an equal diversity in fruiting body types. Sometimes you just have to look very closely, such as at this <i>Favolaschia</i> species, just a few millimeters across. The undersides remind me of the spaces in a waffle.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgJ1_0br24TlRF6TXY_VehNJ9rzRM0FO1Ujftl18fDdRcse9UT0l2dKmWTPk_aHUadK8LkAu9zGHd3v_GfUgpPwT6MixaG90riA8DpzNWGA7Nc_dZMGC1KuVAmd-2W5_fUg8H0BPLkCm0FoeUdFp5HsvnK1k38s0vthfyIgphlnu2nSoCMRJlaTfdJ4=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="636" data-original-width="1000" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgJ1_0br24TlRF6TXY_VehNJ9rzRM0FO1Ujftl18fDdRcse9UT0l2dKmWTPk_aHUadK8LkAu9zGHd3v_GfUgpPwT6MixaG90riA8DpzNWGA7Nc_dZMGC1KuVAmd-2W5_fUg8H0BPLkCm0FoeUdFp5HsvnK1k38s0vthfyIgphlnu2nSoCMRJlaTfdJ4=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Look even more closely at tiny things growing on the thinnest twigs and dead leaf petioles, and you discover things that barely look like mushrooms. This might be in the genus <i>Trichoderma</i>.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCIz0FsW4b_14d5WMxV4Bv0aLXLpvl_ADurvlKL6vcxPN91W2qLiwAj8ivQBHGiHJIODGfKqzu9A0g5eRJMMKi9fS7fmcWZ0v7OTVXXclozq3Jhs7vK7_UTB0flhWOY4IlNz1M7FBHIhsMpGHy5MI-6j4pUAFRMNtZArvwkY6vqTQntLUzgndOWQYc=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="967" data-original-width="1000" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCIz0FsW4b_14d5WMxV4Bv0aLXLpvl_ADurvlKL6vcxPN91W2qLiwAj8ivQBHGiHJIODGfKqzu9A0g5eRJMMKi9fS7fmcWZ0v7OTVXXclozq3Jhs7vK7_UTB0flhWOY4IlNz1M7FBHIhsMpGHy5MI-6j4pUAFRMNtZArvwkY6vqTQntLUzgndOWQYc=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p>There were some bizarre things that are somewhat familiar to me, such as this Tremella sp.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgvzt85HXn8uP0BKCxekKw-BZ7oFQQh-Fn70C4vg87gURsgrADoHMO7VrFpY3HAXGo451uq59ZhMmu28p0mMvikx5rDEMu3jejWxSiEXgGssBMhUrEH2xiO0s3SMa5AyDy9eQrtkknAq1BrAJyHSgLNBwbr1LS6mEtOvYVZFiBg9c_meinKVWFYWcjJ=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="536" data-original-width="1000" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgvzt85HXn8uP0BKCxekKw-BZ7oFQQh-Fn70C4vg87gURsgrADoHMO7VrFpY3HAXGo451uq59ZhMmu28p0mMvikx5rDEMu3jejWxSiEXgGssBMhUrEH2xiO0s3SMa5AyDy9eQrtkknAq1BrAJyHSgLNBwbr1LS6mEtOvYVZFiBg9c_meinKVWFYWcjJ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Or this <i>Xylaria globosa</i>.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhpN9iz0vVFG-AyEhr_0-wo6ygxv5nX899OFoQYfmla0yYMitHhb_PoFnhvwvkqvWa00JkovMvsAHNui3JhOX0ENuysziDxk4Gq74DQxT1hZjlgAqPEo7u8bgsLxcWcwE2wihabJe3c9WnmtfbtgOoht4r9rkWU335kNqDlXgsrcgKKttMZ3waVghVN=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="947" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhpN9iz0vVFG-AyEhr_0-wo6ygxv5nX899OFoQYfmla0yYMitHhb_PoFnhvwvkqvWa00JkovMvsAHNui3JhOX0ENuysziDxk4Gq74DQxT1hZjlgAqPEo7u8bgsLxcWcwE2wihabJe3c9WnmtfbtgOoht4r9rkWU335kNqDlXgsrcgKKttMZ3waVghVN=s320" width="303" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p>Related to stinkhorns, this odd mushroom might be in the genus <i>Laternea</i>, possibly also <i>Clathrus</i>.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiwy69YqyR_XsQzTqIMBDWwZvnOcdIj_Ue0eRH-L2W82W7ayi52yM7FfpSO3JEbM2E4ncDQj6v6JfOgMH7wtNsDBg3hewua2Bej1HCLC6hSuUpQKtBtmQpMkO7OdL5zdq8ejMk3_4mCVIWiMiD4svMiRClEkwogfevaw2bCqvqp3-5hRb6bYRKtUoro=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="777" data-original-width="1000" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiwy69YqyR_XsQzTqIMBDWwZvnOcdIj_Ue0eRH-L2W82W7ayi52yM7FfpSO3JEbM2E4ncDQj6v6JfOgMH7wtNsDBg3hewua2Bej1HCLC6hSuUpQKtBtmQpMkO7OdL5zdq8ejMk3_4mCVIWiMiD4svMiRClEkwogfevaw2bCqvqp3-5hRb6bYRKtUoro=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Most people wouldn’t look at these tiny bird-nest like structures and think of mushrooms, but that’s what this <i>Cyathus sp.</i> is. A related species grows in my Eugene yard.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhqsVe93dqvLAM0xSpIUWdzBZxcCyjLpFws-e7QgnGsJg_esGmDQul57aMKNU7XOQh2tMeGfAktX_19c98KfFtTGW5blNz-vjeWv4jH0n5Z7z3ogKmga0txb44gEYtqspFjSizLi3aTXg24Dzv4igLnq_jAjZl1uom1xWEmGAB3GjS4EgZsUyjz7CZK=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="839" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhqsVe93dqvLAM0xSpIUWdzBZxcCyjLpFws-e7QgnGsJg_esGmDQul57aMKNU7XOQh2tMeGfAktX_19c98KfFtTGW5blNz-vjeWv4jH0n5Z7z3ogKmga0txb44gEYtqspFjSizLi3aTXg24Dzv4igLnq_jAjZl1uom1xWEmGAB3GjS4EgZsUyjz7CZK=s320" width="268" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>We saw lots of typical looking wood-ears, but this was the first time I’ve seen <i>Auricularia nigricans</i>, distinctive with its fuzzy dorsal side.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgqR9X1kYPZLiesY5Iq6sY1ULoxfFVMOSXAiJaJHLYtbajXjO8mAnmXzPG5tdk649eZTbvp6qy_YyvsFy0pgf1aTvNqWm95mL8g5FZBeyXR4RQol4fjyRo30Q5X07LXddd2wqy9QMxJh4kPxpSvzsGQSOdOjNvrmHBt0RhfFeob3dV2qVrnBMK52RY1=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="956" data-original-width="1000" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgqR9X1kYPZLiesY5Iq6sY1ULoxfFVMOSXAiJaJHLYtbajXjO8mAnmXzPG5tdk649eZTbvp6qy_YyvsFy0pgf1aTvNqWm95mL8g5FZBeyXR4RQol4fjyRo30Q5X07LXddd2wqy9QMxJh4kPxpSvzsGQSOdOjNvrmHBt0RhfFeob3dV2qVrnBMK52RY1=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p>This fascinating mushroom is <i>Myrmecopterula moniliformis</i>, placed in a new genus described only last year, and is associated with leafcutter ants. It may be a parasite on the species of fungi that the ants cultivate, or it might just be the decomposer of old ant fungus farms after the colony has died, but it’s not really known.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg_tVZJRJHTiC9VEbLDNsdZAmhjAZewuBBZphyk_R8aBAkyK9dGWlZTvzEEbE-eF7P6HkMxHWsf-Puw8BYrvnTa1k_GW0NhZtuHtayiMEVihF01MzzsWM-G2g4oTNQjQ2_Ss4vc5AiYk0xix67LiThNJsn2xLrTxTwdpBmSeFHN7n40DYPLoEX-YyEC=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="973" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg_tVZJRJHTiC9VEbLDNsdZAmhjAZewuBBZphyk_R8aBAkyK9dGWlZTvzEEbE-eF7P6HkMxHWsf-Puw8BYrvnTa1k_GW0NhZtuHtayiMEVihF01MzzsWM-G2g4oTNQjQ2_Ss4vc5AiYk0xix67LiThNJsn2xLrTxTwdpBmSeFHN7n40DYPLoEX-YyEC=s320" width="311" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>There were some so bizarre, like these two, I have no idea what they are – nothing similar can be found in the Field Museum field guide pdfs I have.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiaiTHmO4O1vd5gpGOZ6kWIviSq8clvBtfHr-bLVBvyE5bszPgAnEdrdS7tRhvZxNOC1uSF21-UHXQ0NtdHJFDfUk7DDaLJ7G9sRCU02khM_Ndqbjjz4oYFPLUrWmwyh_gzWYi2_p9DYHKv5QtHiuynt2GwAsyTWkceWy2t6_1dxkMfWsAXClYNhLkt=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="633" data-original-width="1000" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiaiTHmO4O1vd5gpGOZ6kWIviSq8clvBtfHr-bLVBvyE5bszPgAnEdrdS7tRhvZxNOC1uSF21-UHXQ0NtdHJFDfUk7DDaLJ7G9sRCU02khM_Ndqbjjz4oYFPLUrWmwyh_gzWYi2_p9DYHKv5QtHiuynt2GwAsyTWkceWy2t6_1dxkMfWsAXClYNhLkt=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjvOoDyzbdxXX5Avr02tF4OAqdcfz11yRPXS0dnkF0kX83ACCGMpcJvLK1pF2I-71RL9WEIkro4ZvxG1wb3kIhr1ziyfQkHFasPVHg_n3yuJEE9Prdy7aY-5uIHF5FXSXkDjaWTKRBFYhffwB35YM0mRQr5vQxT4P9jdU8jf7uJCzFJgFspTK8pcBZT=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="841" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjvOoDyzbdxXX5Avr02tF4OAqdcfz11yRPXS0dnkF0kX83ACCGMpcJvLK1pF2I-71RL9WEIkro4ZvxG1wb3kIhr1ziyfQkHFasPVHg_n3yuJEE9Prdy7aY-5uIHF5FXSXkDjaWTKRBFYhffwB35YM0mRQr5vQxT4P9jdU8jf7uJCzFJgFspTK8pcBZT=s320" width="269" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>There are some truly beautiful mushrooms, like almost anything in the genus <i>Marasmius</i> and their close relatives, which turn out to be a largely early-season group that is the first to start decaying the leaf litter that has accumulated over the dry season.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiR0Z9BweGLfJGpkq2Gk6xcL4ykEJzjOV3-BR3GDid9SyJGqHoZqavf6HdyMvaVs_OO5oxQEbN3yBwGCV4IHkY9QgDUsn08eQaHuWmlGpuIO-aKfTjY3_J5cF139DC5URI3qTgXt-4aKU5d6yMCouw1c7vRu24zEELAugzRI4ZYRASx9mBhYq99au6y=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="989" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiR0Z9BweGLfJGpkq2Gk6xcL4ykEJzjOV3-BR3GDid9SyJGqHoZqavf6HdyMvaVs_OO5oxQEbN3yBwGCV4IHkY9QgDUsn08eQaHuWmlGpuIO-aKfTjY3_J5cF139DC5URI3qTgXt-4aKU5d6yMCouw1c7vRu24zEELAugzRI4ZYRASx9mBhYq99au6y=s320" width="316" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgqSVYAxl_MPEDN4pB5tbT8JLlArhIK-IimVfIkmo3AseY90FFuInLuW33Z0N0_p6R1Zq47m8rv1sivvxAELoZr33TtjfUy0YU4hVCAadNhcP1NUfprRqIMmCPZxrlSeHHzeoH40FkOM7_9gS4W9Wu2wxaoU2W0eNUmPEnqaNZeEwaMTXtX1lrw8KiD=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="570" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgqSVYAxl_MPEDN4pB5tbT8JLlArhIK-IimVfIkmo3AseY90FFuInLuW33Z0N0_p6R1Zq47m8rv1sivvxAELoZr33TtjfUy0YU4hVCAadNhcP1NUfprRqIMmCPZxrlSeHHzeoH40FkOM7_9gS4W9Wu2wxaoU2W0eNUmPEnqaNZeEwaMTXtX1lrw8KiD=s320" width="182" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p>One of my favorites is <i>Marasmius amazonicus</i>, a spectacular and gigantic member of the genus, and not an abundant one; this was the only one we saw.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgPxZtsTj4pGvSeD8p9o9U__0PAWhWogKLwyFwaBfjuJQxEtRXkdHKbyCLZT1-DV11pGNNPzMT8hKMWtk608Vb2tE78I0wcF7cKA_WjCe_nYTtfNbAxT49jFFb-7ed9gmKpOdtLpPkdQFNR-SKLXWtNkffwJ9LLF33ywejNOwdOBM8O-FZY6sJKInQ1=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="857" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgPxZtsTj4pGvSeD8p9o9U__0PAWhWogKLwyFwaBfjuJQxEtRXkdHKbyCLZT1-DV11pGNNPzMT8hKMWtk608Vb2tE78I0wcF7cKA_WjCe_nYTtfNbAxT49jFFb-7ed9gmKpOdtLpPkdQFNR-SKLXWtNkffwJ9LLF33ywejNOwdOBM8O-FZY6sJKInQ1=s320" width="274" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p>Let’s not forget the entomopathogenic mushrooms that more and more people are hearing about. There are still many undescribed species in the Neotropics, so it’s usually not possible to say what species you have with confidence. This first is probably in the genus <i>Nigelia</i>, having killed a gorgeous scarab.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZNGe38eqitkt-7A9WQ-cjrmjz51JOtnXR5la3_AvhF11obu-XdRPaYNG7biJ6Y4FIufm9aXzXcXPVK7E6fdxNpGCxau1YK1BnC3knWaoEmiaoupBnSGVb4ELT0r3zs8hZw19TKSdTpkTMyibiXg5Xj9pg-UjZGH4EwhT_Ce1JHDHUhLwW04IjRrQQ=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="688" data-original-width="1000" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZNGe38eqitkt-7A9WQ-cjrmjz51JOtnXR5la3_AvhF11obu-XdRPaYNG7biJ6Y4FIufm9aXzXcXPVK7E6fdxNpGCxau1YK1BnC3knWaoEmiaoupBnSGVb4ELT0r3zs8hZw19TKSdTpkTMyibiXg5Xj9pg-UjZGH4EwhT_Ce1JHDHUhLwW04IjRrQQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p>This is an <i>Ophiocordyceps sp.,</i> its host an ant.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg3YNhTIBEUa088fOB8R8Lh1sfPwq4T4jZNoK0asOzfSUm7i9ORIQw8dhVE5BJw3dQBTnmLSk4WEC8JW07Pxhn3pzecPHlqhNAxKjVZS8CIe_2L8z3QEiWWXI45LDeEdv4J3ZGvRffdCq1sM2XU_i77so8zsXjaKK2gLFmWD3iJwTs6Y2krY_fwxt5j=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="888" data-original-width="1000" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg3YNhTIBEUa088fOB8R8Lh1sfPwq4T4jZNoK0asOzfSUm7i9ORIQw8dhVE5BJw3dQBTnmLSk4WEC8JW07Pxhn3pzecPHlqhNAxKjVZS8CIe_2L8z3QEiWWXI45LDeEdv4J3ZGvRffdCq1sM2XU_i77so8zsXjaKK2gLFmWD3iJwTs6Y2krY_fwxt5j=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p>Not really mushrooms, but appearing in similar environmental conditions with a sporophytic reproductive phase are the slime molds. These are actually more closely related to single celled organisms like amoebas (and fungi are more closely related to animals). Up close they are quite beautiful.</p><p><i>Ceratiomyxa morchella</i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjXL7mDYHJ5Q8seOpcl4DgUU8jyycDsSqSHfg9QtQcwfq6O5R1dzfOikyLHHYViEerBmOGMqHdUGQqpwc3538kmxrw0rDsgAtBriZqIbNdkoldKiM9uTnJZTjT38OUdk_36NSpL5-x0QaRCRiDNMVZx0bdQD9XfW5ms2npDdwiG4RrGtEQ2jV0YwV-q=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="446" data-original-width="1000" height="143" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjXL7mDYHJ5Q8seOpcl4DgUU8jyycDsSqSHfg9QtQcwfq6O5R1dzfOikyLHHYViEerBmOGMqHdUGQqpwc3538kmxrw0rDsgAtBriZqIbNdkoldKiM9uTnJZTjT38OUdk_36NSpL5-x0QaRCRiDNMVZx0bdQD9XfW5ms2npDdwiG4RrGtEQ2jV0YwV-q=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><i>Arcyria cinerea</i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhUFuVh09ImAz1r6eJFeackR9dd9HGhVeExL27V4ltxy7JQbK1GuUH5RGi6qss5yypi5s-nsVs6hWwpMrAAT2aOYE_9_uKljumi99np-sAzpBo_SKQePit6JU4mrcR8-wAqgaUYsXpjJNsaxWC4S5FaxrK901wyDeAiJYbPKt3Mw3XvN5kT6yoUnQfV=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="790" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhUFuVh09ImAz1r6eJFeackR9dd9HGhVeExL27V4ltxy7JQbK1GuUH5RGi6qss5yypi5s-nsVs6hWwpMrAAT2aOYE_9_uKljumi99np-sAzpBo_SKQePit6JU4mrcR8-wAqgaUYsXpjJNsaxWC4S5FaxrK901wyDeAiJYbPKt3Mw3XvN5kT6yoUnQfV=s320" width="253" /></a></div><div><br /></div><i>Tubifera microsperma</i><p></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjS350rle1HLhBMjZhKXO8xzFN9wZzrNmijj-PacdbwzM0MCVj3ESoPrIIYh7otqfbtONVi6Z6cPArsZ4ZhzuDXL1QqrbxBZHc7gI8Skhf24t4eIUwlhzR6-NfJ4P4sK4_IsZFNxaw9ZFe3NKoiAtrLfousI7pjObVnhRTgrMl4lDf6U_5lzgUiOOd1=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="961" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjS350rle1HLhBMjZhKXO8xzFN9wZzrNmijj-PacdbwzM0MCVj3ESoPrIIYh7otqfbtONVi6Z6cPArsZ4ZhzuDXL1QqrbxBZHc7gI8Skhf24t4eIUwlhzR6-NfJ4P4sK4_IsZFNxaw9ZFe3NKoiAtrLfousI7pjObVnhRTgrMl4lDf6U_5lzgUiOOd1=s320" width="308" /></a></div><br /></div><p>At the end of our tour, even though only slightly deeper into the rainy season, we finally started seeing some mushrooms that one encounters more frequently later in the season. This exciting find was the only <i>Hygrocybe</i> we saw.</p><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg-29yEChwn_PVtws-ufGfrO9vqNV9BDQOh8SEtJmt5pENBK9irDnplwZls_FBFnmxuKKXlk8Oa-Kubn2ZmcqaO65uJNAkIObdilE1KT0Zt9SZxXI5BxuuZFZrYNaQnehQZMFBuqDWrGVtOuyUtnGwqgBfF7IF_XW5tMjEGOCZQgMnyOAm5j6hQkGdE=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="665" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg-29yEChwn_PVtws-ufGfrO9vqNV9BDQOh8SEtJmt5pENBK9irDnplwZls_FBFnmxuKKXlk8Oa-Kubn2ZmcqaO65uJNAkIObdilE1KT0Zt9SZxXI5BxuuZFZrYNaQnehQZMFBuqDWrGVtOuyUtnGwqgBfF7IF_XW5tMjEGOCZQgMnyOAm5j6hQkGdE=s320" width="213" /></a></div></div>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-86697139473683714282021-11-13T15:05:00.000-08:002021-11-13T15:05:25.044-08:00Calliope Corner Garden Update – Not Winter Yet<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiC5F2GfBdgD-n1OZd0TfFW7uzmpp_MMHQrOs9uFCYoKaOPZ31ig3lbpF_PxxUnalpgnfRGYCZK28awsHC8o_zMPRioiqWq1UnOJS1wi5dmOpI-CLDgaFjViNSNFtmtCeDs0TDV6wOto58RLCCF1tuOWtoCf0R5WWm60rf3GETtqAu3vpuV7kukwovT=s1280" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1219" data-original-width="1280" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiC5F2GfBdgD-n1OZd0TfFW7uzmpp_MMHQrOs9uFCYoKaOPZ31ig3lbpF_PxxUnalpgnfRGYCZK28awsHC8o_zMPRioiqWq1UnOJS1wi5dmOpI-CLDgaFjViNSNFtmtCeDs0TDV6wOto58RLCCF1tuOWtoCf0R5WWm60rf3GETtqAu3vpuV7kukwovT=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>When I came home from three weeks in Brazil earlier this week, I was expecting (and sort of hoping) that the Pacific Northwest would be winterish already. With the garden all dormant and harvests completely done, the gradual tasks of cleaning up spent plants and all the gardening infrastructure (trellises, stakes, twine, and the watering timer system) can begin.</p><p>But practically the only winterish thing in my yard are the peach trees, which have truly lost most of their leaves. They must respond more to dwindling daylength than temperatures.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjb8d6DmS0FR2qcTctINHZ8EClWqQZth9e3feGifmdhrtZMgvlMJ54Mfggw2nAmy8U8jDlhHgSf5rFynn5c-F3vYBWii_XHsPod3neWCmLE3tpAnusKsEsv5okjgpsLdrQ9IUyiRr7WjlaebhjNBlgtJfv08rgVn-PFb9riLllzBYVWUGNi99mDezpD=s1280" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjb8d6DmS0FR2qcTctINHZ8EClWqQZth9e3feGifmdhrtZMgvlMJ54Mfggw2nAmy8U8jDlhHgSf5rFynn5c-F3vYBWii_XHsPod3neWCmLE3tpAnusKsEsv5okjgpsLdrQ9IUyiRr7WjlaebhjNBlgtJfv08rgVn-PFb9riLllzBYVWUGNi99mDezpD=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br />But not elsewhere in the garden – while the winter rains have arrived in seasonally normal amounts, we haven’t had a single frost yet, and the garden is largely lush, green, and still producing. Consider that this November 13 morning I picked a bowl-full of delicious raspberries. Mixed with plain yogurt, hulled hemp seed, and drizzled with honey, they were like a mid-morning, mid-summer snack.<p></p><p><br />Or how about my chiles de árbol, still leafy and ripening, producing what for me is a 10-year supply.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiJ2dc4VwLSTspp5T2SFRkOnfXdNRkOb1mCkraALQXRQUKE5jHsmN4hY3lI3haQrgCkLN_U_p3LiXElMREbAAtv16MNITfufgMxQXTyvWe8tzoRiYf8AhIa158ZxXjs7oe7BKC71wJJsoAfOozEYDZD6J7J6RtJ2GlZL-28xqLu46mu7bbCtOtabmxx=s1280" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiJ2dc4VwLSTspp5T2SFRkOnfXdNRkOb1mCkraALQXRQUKE5jHsmN4hY3lI3haQrgCkLN_U_p3LiXElMREbAAtv16MNITfufgMxQXTyvWe8tzoRiYf8AhIa158ZxXjs7oe7BKC71wJJsoAfOozEYDZD6J7J6RtJ2GlZL-28xqLu46mu7bbCtOtabmxx=s320" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><p>My <i>Nicotiana alata</i> is still blooming and being delightfully fragrant after dark.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiBeaJDrYrUjQUdQWjr9hkvJS86skUdfJuAR8Cwxwn9oIMayfz83VlMjk9NNI-NTTSuSBHV8IaJtqpNfyuxNRPdLCwWNAmXPdrlsSfhT9PgEiepA4c5oYAUp78Xg1MzTaBp_eWKC5ASdrnR3LRCc36p6un5xm3lOrfxjijaohg86cGTAy5txfVX64PH=s1280" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1060" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiBeaJDrYrUjQUdQWjr9hkvJS86skUdfJuAR8Cwxwn9oIMayfz83VlMjk9NNI-NTTSuSBHV8IaJtqpNfyuxNRPdLCwWNAmXPdrlsSfhT9PgEiepA4c5oYAUp78Xg1MzTaBp_eWKC5ASdrnR3LRCc36p6un5xm3lOrfxjijaohg86cGTAy5txfVX64PH=s320" width="265" /></a></div><br />The artichokes ‘Green Globe Improved’ that I sowed this spring are looking mighty lush. And look at that volunteer nasturtium in the background!<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhD6KfdZ32WlEBrb9ybfV-5sWWTxNd2k0oglPKUdLqWq65We9Z23EEd6s33HBR5te0yYBaa8MU0jlVVXq64TpkfxLOsypA4U4IjxFAxNXNRESnmXAjPjdHfNGaUna3oevbqgAiLsg24nGXaPMM5IPERA4J6p9fXmCB2qdaqU8DOc7XXfBO41gX4js1L=s1280" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhD6KfdZ32WlEBrb9ybfV-5sWWTxNd2k0oglPKUdLqWq65We9Z23EEd6s33HBR5te0yYBaa8MU0jlVVXq64TpkfxLOsypA4U4IjxFAxNXNRESnmXAjPjdHfNGaUna3oevbqgAiLsg24nGXaPMM5IPERA4J6p9fXmCB2qdaqU8DOc7XXfBO41gX4js1L=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br />I didn’t have time to deal with the big crop of ‘Fuji’ apples before my tours began in late September, but there are still many salvageable (and delicious) apples on the tree, though the Varied Thrushes and Starlings have already started digging in.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh92cLSV0wDdKVkLiKhEuFMsFtND8hzfnyhuz2aXhVfrE9RCytlkiCAlF-8JpsJc8JIUVaHnx-sGMKZJPaSfO0884mVPj5185KWKGkn-VZV3ojT3a66ile3uOjsr52bYNt14OlX0H43DqholKvBqaFMGaZ_RuCrpYfmJRTROVVg8MgFIYrJbQ0JnLzM=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh92cLSV0wDdKVkLiKhEuFMsFtND8hzfnyhuz2aXhVfrE9RCytlkiCAlF-8JpsJc8JIUVaHnx-sGMKZJPaSfO0884mVPj5185KWKGkn-VZV3ojT3a66ile3uOjsr52bYNt14OlX0H43DqholKvBqaFMGaZ_RuCrpYfmJRTROVVg8MgFIYrJbQ0JnLzM=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br />The brassicas that I sowed in late July are maturing quite fast, and I had to squish a Cabbage White caterpillar on one of them.<p></p><p>Broccoli 'Jacaranda F1'</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiRA9tADgHqSlH88IFsKSyvuxbnNUY6j-S_QocZ1_K2CNiDC7TOHAYeXzjsYonupgGbaoa5bhbpYTUccItn4jvNv4hq70M_WzFuhFQRtkddl9KttHrO0876cZBtwetS9z_hN75tFUor-5ipC3ziheSxNORhkdgxNS7OnHvOZz3PF5PJNCKcBuYB5Nz8=s1280" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1209" data-original-width="1280" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiRA9tADgHqSlH88IFsKSyvuxbnNUY6j-S_QocZ1_K2CNiDC7TOHAYeXzjsYonupgGbaoa5bhbpYTUccItn4jvNv4hq70M_WzFuhFQRtkddl9KttHrO0876cZBtwetS9z_hN75tFUor-5ipC3ziheSxNORhkdgxNS7OnHvOZz3PF5PJNCKcBuYB5Nz8=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br />Brussels sprouts ‘Groninger’<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj7TYam6Qf-3dBX7AKguojC34uIt9HvW6tW6LCJUVDzCXH89KZz0bXn7yPNjifG7SRgol7ZZ3SrfhXVGtT2nU_xXWFX6jwdXT9GcVx8kkhTma6sNWArHnFxwlm_4C9OLAe6QYExOA0IMJCfGYazM80Qwaw5zHsnw2dDiMgCd2yyrQXJ9EX6InBI1-Na=s1280" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="822" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj7TYam6Qf-3dBX7AKguojC34uIt9HvW6tW6LCJUVDzCXH89KZz0bXn7yPNjifG7SRgol7ZZ3SrfhXVGtT2nU_xXWFX6jwdXT9GcVx8kkhTma6sNWArHnFxwlm_4C9OLAe6QYExOA0IMJCfGYazM80Qwaw5zHsnw2dDiMgCd2yyrQXJ9EX6InBI1-Na=s320" width="206" /></a></div><br />Cabbage 'January King'<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhzb9jD6T81vI4mYg8jx19EWp8Bco_onlzXJcqBzNpO8Boyfy6b4vsBsOkDAS4AuCMfkbhK39vCDAFIJdJkrGbGhq_qWhdI1JgQLdTISdu3ykAB2ajY-9RMf9OJZ4wDFDG3_tRCozyAECJeyGwZmMmGTDq59bowbd2Mk4EfWMtH2Pt0JdiI5CB2eH6y=s1280" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1250" data-original-width="1280" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhzb9jD6T81vI4mYg8jx19EWp8Bco_onlzXJcqBzNpO8Boyfy6b4vsBsOkDAS4AuCMfkbhK39vCDAFIJdJkrGbGhq_qWhdI1JgQLdTISdu3ykAB2ajY-9RMf9OJZ4wDFDG3_tRCozyAECJeyGwZmMmGTDq59bowbd2Mk4EfWMtH2Pt0JdiI5CB2eH6y=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br />I was a bit concerned that it’s been so warm, my carrots won’t go dormant and provide me with delicious roots all winter before they bolt. I planted four varieties, and this one is ‘Giants of Colmar’ (named after a city in France very close to where I lived a year in Germany). It’s young (they apparently get 12 inches long) but certainly big enough to eat, and maybe winter will come soon enough (we do have 5 1/5 weeks of shortening days ahead of us still after all).<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiDvegMHNaOZSZrkU3V__1oHvo3j1EuH9wvSD-TvSMcL2FI_lnSwVSo3glHatzD8uW6-xXFtPYxiy6-6ZIzI1KBvFILbGBEZASWOm8v2UgNBU0zoz59NFeIRckcXsFLXWOuzht0LF0bMXCEDmNcD6MgM2pW8t_twd8qin6-44dcbmypQXO_QMvT4I3r=s1280" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1194" data-original-width="1280" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiDvegMHNaOZSZrkU3V__1oHvo3j1EuH9wvSD-TvSMcL2FI_lnSwVSo3glHatzD8uW6-xXFtPYxiy6-6ZIzI1KBvFILbGBEZASWOm8v2UgNBU0zoz59NFeIRckcXsFLXWOuzht0LF0bMXCEDmNcD6MgM2pW8t_twd8qin6-44dcbmypQXO_QMvT4I3r=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-5496873859418638152021-10-11T20:58:00.000-07:002021-10-11T20:58:04.888-07:00WINGS Tour of Peru: Rainforest Lodges of the Madre de Dios<p>I’ve been home just two days from my two wonderful tours to southeastern Peru, and I while I was excited to see how my garden has progressed (or aged, as the case may be) as fall approaches, I was also not quite ready to leave Peru. I wish I had had just a few more days to explore more trails and squeeze out a few more species. The rainy season was just barely starting, and plants were beginning bloom, birds were nesting, and more insects were emerging.</p><p>My second tour visits two rainforest lodges of the department Madre de Dios. It was an abrupt but delightful change of pace from the first Peru tour, where we had been mostly in mountains of the neighboring department of Cusco. For one, it was warm and humid, though on two days we were under the influence of a late cold front, when the overcast skies and cooler temperatures were quite welcome.</p><p>The tour ended with an impressive total of about 375 species of birds. And though no one took part in both tours, my 20-day total came to about 650 species. This second tour was supposed to have six participants, just like the first one, but for various reasons, four of the participants canceled, leaving just two – my friends Dana Gardner and Michael Chinn from Berkeley, California. So this was much more like a private tour with friends than a regular WINGS tour, and I think we all benefitted from the flexibility that entailed.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjVJsqcVK8D-OAOXxC6GskLqokl6-ea6E9L7jv_5hTysxEr_fiYMSb0rlOiAnEfclD5C_fhwF-S5288VZ29CrBcsjEay6INOuvGPPhojoztGiguMtnh1OI3Le1nNMxDYyL8dnIf3kI7ywK40bA_MmxdCJC-fmUss_m_2_esxBNQ4TAwQtmu5gYugqh2=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjVJsqcVK8D-OAOXxC6GskLqokl6-ea6E9L7jv_5hTysxEr_fiYMSb0rlOiAnEfclD5C_fhwF-S5288VZ29CrBcsjEay6INOuvGPPhojoztGiguMtnh1OI3Le1nNMxDYyL8dnIf3kI7ywK40bA_MmxdCJC-fmUss_m_2_esxBNQ4TAwQtmu5gYugqh2=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>Unlike the first tour, which involved a fair amount of driving, we walked every day, piling on the miles, but one of the most enjoyable aspects of this tour is being able to bird right outside our rooms. A surprise for me here was that two of the cabins had been completely dismantled. A few feet of the overlook had sloughed off in June, and it was deemed that these two cabins were too close to edge in the event that an even larger chunk of earth might collapse.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEibxNre9YhFn6Fz-jM3ejYQVXsuGfv7kqIlsNf-ZBl7go7tjrpwIvDwgom9-eLoiFzV9aZdvK2ty5Qvp6_Hl3tio6IN-E88x44TXo59pZlQaYXWPiW0GDV8mY2rPmVMi-Z_kLmDbi3xug268ZzpqfwJjFBqWJzQaJ4c44zdc0VZdQufAaBijHs6fMNv=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEibxNre9YhFn6Fz-jM3ejYQVXsuGfv7kqIlsNf-ZBl7go7tjrpwIvDwgom9-eLoiFzV9aZdvK2ty5Qvp6_Hl3tio6IN-E88x44TXo59pZlQaYXWPiW0GDV8mY2rPmVMi-Z_kLmDbi3xug268ZzpqfwJjFBqWJzQaJ4c44zdc0VZdQufAaBijHs6fMNv=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>We were walking by our cabins one morning when we heard a ruckus from inside a dead, hollowed-out palm trunk, and we looked up to see this Tawny-bellied Screech-Owl indignantly poking its head out of the top.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhvT5ahyrDDZC_3qXnaITHrUrN42vJZsR3e4353a9VsU93Zz4EfobQQ_E4caNf0T5z6N1KMRBczuFEm0LRroZsiwXXNejuAf0DQKbXmqXeJQZ4XoXsmTJzZJ2a8j5IWTV6RIqsvvcZZ7Ghmv72xtg4VCPViOFsdBl9D4EAPVqk0MJsLaGBFkyuqOwkM=s640" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="640" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhvT5ahyrDDZC_3qXnaITHrUrN42vJZsR3e4353a9VsU93Zz4EfobQQ_E4caNf0T5z6N1KMRBczuFEm0LRroZsiwXXNejuAf0DQKbXmqXeJQZ4XoXsmTJzZJ2a8j5IWTV6RIqsvvcZZ7Ghmv72xtg4VCPViOFsdBl9D4EAPVqk0MJsLaGBFkyuqOwkM=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>Another treat was walking the same trails on multiple days – and discovering how different they can be from one day to the next. On our first pass by a large tree dropping red fruits to the ground, a group of Pale-winged Trumpeters approached and put on quite a show. The next time we passed there, a stunning Plum-throated Cotinga sat just under the canopy for extended views. This is the fruit of <i>Pseudolmedia laevis</i> in Moraceae that attracted so many birds.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhp84x1hryOQotRw9d_tPsWlYBQ23-fHYwpZbrpyL0gkP95v6LNsK6-Lf9LVWUBsQUAoC-8AVPazRn3kddvW6d9die7jd3hui_qIs415E5TTkWjiwyKoH5ov_Xo24y5skJnIlJiv-yjLRrZ9JkP1CRGZj43miWOhaxzHDH089zU0t0bXiGp3N024Bbx=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhp84x1hryOQotRw9d_tPsWlYBQ23-fHYwpZbrpyL0gkP95v6LNsK6-Lf9LVWUBsQUAoC-8AVPazRn3kddvW6d9die7jd3hui_qIs415E5TTkWjiwyKoH5ov_Xo24y5skJnIlJiv-yjLRrZ9JkP1CRGZj43miWOhaxzHDH089zU0t0bXiGp3N024Bbx=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>And on a third visit we flushed a Ruddy Quail-Dove off its nest with two eggs, right next to a stunning cannonball tree (<i>Couroupita guianensis</i>) that was dropping its flowers all around the tree.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhnhK4nFvlShviZpbKKivHuGQOyoS7JbFPXJTxQDtIOtcJJ44Mdo1sfIA5okZvg_aelKtRGFb-fBv9_5vNoydfyolEuhfbxHZpUdAXpv6kEq-xO2aYvr3ctmRY7tv4CTGmYT2ft2-jLpWu6WnKhoYS2BTLnXUYWiriyMd0ujfxcXfR2PuIf0zgqmg_N=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="677" data-original-width="1000" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhnhK4nFvlShviZpbKKivHuGQOyoS7JbFPXJTxQDtIOtcJJ44Mdo1sfIA5okZvg_aelKtRGFb-fBv9_5vNoydfyolEuhfbxHZpUdAXpv6kEq-xO2aYvr3ctmRY7tv4CTGmYT2ft2-jLpWu6WnKhoYS2BTLnXUYWiriyMd0ujfxcXfR2PuIf0zgqmg_N=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgtYlGAFMBcggyEEF9s4dn_YkSIh__0bxKVa_Aq8EF-jnhhhkfXBS4ZE69TwsWak4Bx5r1GyB0HXoa1SiGcGP0cbgnN8ZkyzF8OGNwuBaz_1bYyc8Fg32_X31OtSve-L8sLl0uxFlIRsGjqbLqLwGu-NCFG2RlCzuF_HqFqc91VLWfVfSGAXZ6oysJW=s640" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="438" data-original-width="640" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgtYlGAFMBcggyEEF9s4dn_YkSIh__0bxKVa_Aq8EF-jnhhhkfXBS4ZE69TwsWak4Bx5r1GyB0HXoa1SiGcGP0cbgnN8ZkyzF8OGNwuBaz_1bYyc8Fg32_X31OtSve-L8sLl0uxFlIRsGjqbLqLwGu-NCFG2RlCzuF_HqFqc91VLWfVfSGAXZ6oysJW=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>And yet on another pass on the same trail, this female Cream-colored Woodpecker perched at eye-level very close to the trail and sat there for an extended time, seemingly unafraid of our presence.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi_qJQafaWHee3qnzHRHTjsnEGWkKNrbNFq65uRjkPk5_kgLu5_ZBlH49JjbNj3cLTrLwqtWwaHHHPfsgocSFwVp01jVuJhWtDgpiD7Em75DwvM4gKcV76ZwPJmIJmR_dBzbwWeRiGJ7smdfqS2PKUITGx1SeGdJZgjZ9hmrlsN-kVQylmdfmHSZ38X=s640" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="456" data-original-width="640" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi_qJQafaWHee3qnzHRHTjsnEGWkKNrbNFq65uRjkPk5_kgLu5_ZBlH49JjbNj3cLTrLwqtWwaHHHPfsgocSFwVp01jVuJhWtDgpiD7Em75DwvM4gKcV76ZwPJmIJmR_dBzbwWeRiGJ7smdfqS2PKUITGx1SeGdJZgjZ9hmrlsN-kVQylmdfmHSZ38X=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>We birded one of the closer trails to the lodge several times in search of its bamboo specialties, and we were surprised on one morning by a pair of very quiet Rufous-capped Nunlets low in the vegetation right off the trail.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgOYxHPrL6dh8hVZPThlxTO0RihuDiWy2MwAYHhDjUSQSQiEYHO-yuNu4D-oDKT7przL-wWxmddRjmK4xQxA8abZvwy68VuhO4QKAtacEBsjqWuzptKea316ostCWeIo0R_Zr-3aFR9owFQNNXBtsGu58DjbjUnvY4d7v2QM10KPAGJX9LJjzxw7RnS=s640" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="421" data-original-width="640" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgOYxHPrL6dh8hVZPThlxTO0RihuDiWy2MwAYHhDjUSQSQiEYHO-yuNu4D-oDKT7przL-wWxmddRjmK4xQxA8abZvwy68VuhO4QKAtacEBsjqWuzptKea316ostCWeIo0R_Zr-3aFR9owFQNNXBtsGu58DjbjUnvY4d7v2QM10KPAGJX9LJjzxw7RnS=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>Then again there were some reliable birds, such as the lek of Band-tailed Manakins which showed well when we stood still near their favorite display area, and on our second stop they were even more cooperative. Or the pair of Great Jacamars that we found along the same stretch of one trail on several days. We suspected they might have had a nest nearby.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjwJkGUjd9vQj8q9r7SHlYm8hxctVSl0jU4En9NWYDUrRMDOWMXJ3lP4IoV6JZoNr_Uja3dsNLBiLSzURKYVnZl8oaCTylDY09PqjIIyEK4DedKZYFStEg5cWdj8aehpZFsPqQJoKbiQQHYQw-9hMjN7Tit6qpayBuJgN_i_3f-ZkuiXoteR6R-_D_n=s640" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="640" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjwJkGUjd9vQj8q9r7SHlYm8hxctVSl0jU4En9NWYDUrRMDOWMXJ3lP4IoV6JZoNr_Uja3dsNLBiLSzURKYVnZl8oaCTylDY09PqjIIyEK4DedKZYFStEg5cWdj8aehpZFsPqQJoKbiQQHYQw-9hMjN7Tit6qpayBuJgN_i_3f-ZkuiXoteR6R-_D_n=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>One surprise at Los Amigos was a rare Brown-banded Puffbird that flew in quietly while we were scanning the canopy for a singing Western Striolated-Puffbird (which we ended up seeing on another day). This was my first for Peru.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgbw8WIt9SphP5v9ua155nrb3Iba5abfzxm5WeFMpZWtKwBE5kM7AJQjoiApOHzq0C5-BAQ1OrgG8lmfiAOHmxRDt2gl7lEeXdoymUMt7C8oZsVnbBIC5Fg1nIUorSBCjB8p6T45AXU6kHzez1wBbclEM302CRocc9tXC-vvmTfRbmzOgTiDQynIwIR=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="705" data-original-width="1000" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgbw8WIt9SphP5v9ua155nrb3Iba5abfzxm5WeFMpZWtKwBE5kM7AJQjoiApOHzq0C5-BAQ1OrgG8lmfiAOHmxRDt2gl7lEeXdoymUMt7C8oZsVnbBIC5Fg1nIUorSBCjB8p6T45AXU6kHzez1wBbclEM302CRocc9tXC-vvmTfRbmzOgTiDQynIwIR=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>Another was the scarce and very unpredictable Amazonian Parrotlet, which if found is usually just a quick-flying flock through the canopy. This year we saw pairs and multiple small flocks on five days, perched in trees and feeding right over the trails, offering great views of this bird that Don Stap wrote about in his popular book A Parrot Without a Name. Here are two in a fruting <i>Guazuma crinita</i> tree, apparently one of their preferred foods.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJPU4E4unh4B1ZEcky3X0Ey_Qr1kuH9FmhbVyw-RDWqwDRbw9UpbOei6R5KGJ5fZxUqrqxPinQRplEraLoQdxxrK0cJTFHhZDzEMEY8T7jy1bu__4VHImkS965l2PyQ5NEVLHJMcq4kBz0e7x4RRrFyXY9zVpTRaAHv_UGM3tKvFRKrzNwzvldvlyS=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="736" data-original-width="1000" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJPU4E4unh4B1ZEcky3X0Ey_Qr1kuH9FmhbVyw-RDWqwDRbw9UpbOei6R5KGJ5fZxUqrqxPinQRplEraLoQdxxrK0cJTFHhZDzEMEY8T7jy1bu__4VHImkS965l2PyQ5NEVLHJMcq4kBz0e7x4RRrFyXY9zVpTRaAHv_UGM3tKvFRKrzNwzvldvlyS=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>The last days of birding at Tambo Blanquillo Lodge were a nice change of pace, starting with a long boat ride to get there on the Madre de Dios river. We spent most of a morning at their famous clay lick. It was a thrill to see a flock of about a hundred Red-and-green Macaws take off in a deafening flight. They never did come down to feed on the dirt, but many other species did, including this collection of Blue-headed, Orange-cheeked, and Mealy parrots.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjOGRJ1n5rZSQfKxEWqTZ9B6xKnJIY324TDFRJZwMCW9MgVevncWt_IfH304lVXWrFmPh5deI1D6IeIv9EmtXasHPsL2n4TNy3r72FfBa8obNguOrF72nqHTbL--H9l_QSfk6gbUe7TmrpiIUTuHfIj6Cwm77d1WdpoosxWhhv-C8Mbemx3vHmZbg4c=s640" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="399" data-original-width="640" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjOGRJ1n5rZSQfKxEWqTZ9B6xKnJIY324TDFRJZwMCW9MgVevncWt_IfH304lVXWrFmPh5deI1D6IeIv9EmtXasHPsL2n4TNy3r72FfBa8obNguOrF72nqHTbL--H9l_QSfk6gbUe7TmrpiIUTuHfIj6Cwm77d1WdpoosxWhhv-C8Mbemx3vHmZbg4c=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>We had a delightful paddle around one of the oxbow lakes, where a Pale-eyed Blackbird finally appeared.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjQSfE0j1Adk9VtqicBoRFWljUSUX62JvWfPXXXQti97MXIipNOjtqC2VYbOQicJCjEKuK2ufPMuJU4fIY0v0JCaj3PBri3RN5QpCxe8ML7WMNmBFt6TxtOox2Sr7oUmQYypJMF24WAjPnsTH1-TPjTor_2Jv49_rMxLw41XDg8RLhBkyAFvq4ngIrL=s1000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="637" data-original-width="1000" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjQSfE0j1Adk9VtqicBoRFWljUSUX62JvWfPXXXQti97MXIipNOjtqC2VYbOQicJCjEKuK2ufPMuJU4fIY0v0JCaj3PBri3RN5QpCxe8ML7WMNmBFt6TxtOox2Sr7oUmQYypJMF24WAjPnsTH1-TPjTor_2Jv49_rMxLw41XDg8RLhBkyAFvq4ngIrL=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>We also saw dozens of Hoatzins, Greater Anis, and a Sungrebe, and many other species presented themselves. A favorite bird of the tour and a very lucky find was this lone Green-and-rufous Kingfisher, perched typically in the deep shade of the overhanging vegetation.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjsYNp3OL38W9nGCEIFRucvRaeRzjgrq9KilktPMWa3_JGcwAj8UcXmnE4MexF1wraun2LeKYNPD5VzU132MyX55zsIvW8Ms2cK1GW0rpO-RNZVrMYiYcHmMf4cPtgZC58Iw9YwuuOTtQAIN3D7V1g0WLMuxKjKuwrcUVsxWc97X0d4Mf61H1WYlHGt=s640" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="380" data-original-width="640" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjsYNp3OL38W9nGCEIFRucvRaeRzjgrq9KilktPMWa3_JGcwAj8UcXmnE4MexF1wraun2LeKYNPD5VzU132MyX55zsIvW8Ms2cK1GW0rpO-RNZVrMYiYcHmMf4cPtgZC58Iw9YwuuOTtQAIN3D7V1g0WLMuxKjKuwrcUVsxWc97X0d4Mf61H1WYlHGt=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>We also saw a fantastic variety of butterflies and other insects, frogs, and mammals, including nine species of monkey, many in abundance. Along one trail we looked up into a tree cavity only to see this sac-winged bat scramble out and perch in plain sight on the trunk.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiUKXXksgZlpEeo6K2tmlJ-0uRQPlyyx5SiP3OWuWiMf8wNqUKCI30eAv6SmjOJqIlFNp10N3SxMgag45UNTOAyCY1NgQ6QoTaQtICNAIG7Ev1evalm69uZGAU_VFXFqlSkjopquL5HnqhxixfvLxVb8m-56HnK7pArpy8MHwZZ31cnITmkm0Rws4Oq=s640" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="431" data-original-width="640" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiUKXXksgZlpEeo6K2tmlJ-0uRQPlyyx5SiP3OWuWiMf8wNqUKCI30eAv6SmjOJqIlFNp10N3SxMgag45UNTOAyCY1NgQ6QoTaQtICNAIG7Ev1evalm69uZGAU_VFXFqlSkjopquL5HnqhxixfvLxVb8m-56HnK7pArpy8MHwZZ31cnITmkm0Rws4Oq=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>The station science coordinator at Los Amigos was very generous with his time, and he showed us this White-lined Leaf Frog that had been roosting on the same leaf for a few days right by the office; here it is in the evening setting off to forage.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhMD43TM_5cFHXJPbpJWpS6fqDRhGIiBJoQ_3-ux6tPFB-skXl9ytOgO09lQQqjwgX6PyvJCVrCJvBbGWZ9Lip8AgLC9nJP9pRiIX4jRgW-ipXMbkEEJXY4BbwKjIjxC840ZyDOORvz70Es8cb5qjate26M8DITY78NhcjbsHAQiVqaWKOxyX1p-DTj=s640" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="406" data-original-width="640" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhMD43TM_5cFHXJPbpJWpS6fqDRhGIiBJoQ_3-ux6tPFB-skXl9ytOgO09lQQqjwgX6PyvJCVrCJvBbGWZ9Lip8AgLC9nJP9pRiIX4jRgW-ipXMbkEEJXY4BbwKjIjxC840ZyDOORvz70Es8cb5qjate26M8DITY78NhcjbsHAQiVqaWKOxyX1p-DTj=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>Of the many insects I photographed, this long-horned beetle <i>Discopus spectabilis</i> (identified for me by iNaturalist user chickenparmesan24) was one of my favorites.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgdLAJHrNyyfimMxYrP-ykmx9ZoI0UrOxUh8j1NU5ic4eTiyyHtD8_jl3dE2FqmhgDKgrm9F5MmTeIEyd3CG2bcZ5ckXmQXSdk7Wwfe0Xdi1R3jCkJ4Or0hiaW3D3VnOVJlTBA5kKTi58tO7CbaEFTsSq3lQPmaZtkZyWx_ol9KkmyiKVIlW-l74ZPU=s1073" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1073" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgdLAJHrNyyfimMxYrP-ykmx9ZoI0UrOxUh8j1NU5ic4eTiyyHtD8_jl3dE2FqmhgDKgrm9F5MmTeIEyd3CG2bcZ5ckXmQXSdk7Wwfe0Xdi1R3jCkJ4Or0hiaW3D3VnOVJlTBA5kKTi58tO7CbaEFTsSq3lQPmaZtkZyWx_ol9KkmyiKVIlW-l74ZPU=s320" width="298" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-55590828893203329582021-10-04T02:58:00.004-07:002021-10-04T02:58:24.272-07:00Back in the Saddle Again: Birding and Natural History of SE Peru 1<p>I’m leading my first international tours since the start of the pandemic, and everything is going exceedingly well. The first tour just finished a week ago, where we visited the Machu Picchu and the Manu-Kosñipata road, all in the department of Cusco. Some of the lodges and hotels were running with a much-reduced staff, still rebuilding since opening back up to international tourists in July, but you wouldn’t have known it. Clean rooms, excellent meals, and well-maintained trails greeted us at every stop.</p><p>We hit the ground running with a full day in the high wetlands near Cusco and superb birding in the Sacred Valley, where a hummingbird feeding station with Giant Hummingbird, Shining Sunbeam, Black-tailed Trainbearer, and Tyrian and Scaled Metaltails was a highlight. We ended the day with this Peruvian Pygmy-Owl, which came in cooperatively for a tour first.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC67UhpP9Zw-ozkdWDp99ac9DzAce2dz46v7PUTr0NHTxOpD-6ISxHYgE1lDVsT6AcSATKateuIacWb6VA_1bvWV7TOCdisWEaq3TZ93bZ3b1CBImcTRWOn1eahZ1d_qxnCFdSx7fHmDo/s640/001+Peruvian+Pygmy-Owl.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="456" data-original-width="640" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC67UhpP9Zw-ozkdWDp99ac9DzAce2dz46v7PUTr0NHTxOpD-6ISxHYgE1lDVsT6AcSATKateuIacWb6VA_1bvWV7TOCdisWEaq3TZ93bZ3b1CBImcTRWOn1eahZ1d_qxnCFdSx7fHmDo/s320/001+Peruvian+Pygmy-Owl.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p>The ruins of Machu Picchu were as fabulous as they promise to be, and while there we had a very close encounter with a pair of the lovely Inca Wren as we climbed through the bamboo to the upper platforms and their magnificent views.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQNoR1r8tAcSe6deLiJfdrsMyHvnMB-NkS-MMzcN9hkrBdDJ0SgVB1f2KgBjE4c8qYQjH4yJyL1h4D5l-gnwxE9G1Tbcx0MhAqNiXWlbcW3JlwlMr9XnoOfkV8cH1DYkJRy0Mk15BEycc/s640/002+Inca+Wren.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="383" data-original-width="640" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQNoR1r8tAcSe6deLiJfdrsMyHvnMB-NkS-MMzcN9hkrBdDJ0SgVB1f2KgBjE4c8qYQjH4yJyL1h4D5l-gnwxE9G1Tbcx0MhAqNiXWlbcW3JlwlMr9XnoOfkV8cH1DYkJRy0Mk15BEycc/s320/002+Inca+Wren.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>We then birded the forests along the Urubamba River and had wonderful views of this gorgeous Masked Fruiteater.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWUE8krXCBHbJy1zgcYD8yJT3girSVj-Xl8xMp6X5EDxRwS9Pp_8cp3ff1HoO8SiLrmrhhbKF-hBt5_xhQlWa_chO1jbqCnkpixj8_LpZPhvdUwpjwHs_HaW3MDJkQPVvOWRGBIA3HKS8/s640/003+Masked+Fruiteater.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="445" data-original-width="640" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWUE8krXCBHbJy1zgcYD8yJT3girSVj-Xl8xMp6X5EDxRwS9Pp_8cp3ff1HoO8SiLrmrhhbKF-hBt5_xhQlWa_chO1jbqCnkpixj8_LpZPhvdUwpjwHs_HaW3MDJkQPVvOWRGBIA3HKS8/s320/003+Masked+Fruiteater.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>After birding the dry, rain-shadow side of the mountains north of Cusco, where we saw Mourning Sierra-Finch, White-winged Cinclodes, and Streak-backed Canastero, we dropped down through the moist cloud forests to Wayqecha Biological Station with its enchanting view of hillsides in all directions covered by pristine montane forests. We saw most of the specialties here, including a pair of Urubamba Antpittas at close range in the dark mossy understory. This Yungas Pygmy-Owl and this ridiculously fearless Puna Thistletail just down the road were among many other wonderful birds we saw here.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7BaBRdEJSbem-CuNj4xWhTSny-B8ivECqj2-qkLz0sEKEYFPpROaLL18EANsFWkYWb0B_XWu6ucAAwrnkE_uNEWEb9-OEFnyigVEcQ7c3Dx-Bx6IwjOgkwsbbe1Lul550VoBe1VQF0EE/s640/004+Yungas+Pygmy-Owl.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="640" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7BaBRdEJSbem-CuNj4xWhTSny-B8ivECqj2-qkLz0sEKEYFPpROaLL18EANsFWkYWb0B_XWu6ucAAwrnkE_uNEWEb9-OEFnyigVEcQ7c3Dx-Bx6IwjOgkwsbbe1Lul550VoBe1VQF0EE/s320/004+Yungas+Pygmy-Owl.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnLzOZKfI02TnM8rW6F-1sgPIaBGOHbNZLbIVW2-7hdrc6cE_RnyTW0gNlPsLLrCliP42qt7Fpr2uQJjjrzF38SY514BahhJ6IhY-uip-1yJWAFm-EKXsx4TQxbssxfda_09ha07aT6K8/s640/005+Puna+Thistletail.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="376" data-original-width="640" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnLzOZKfI02TnM8rW6F-1sgPIaBGOHbNZLbIVW2-7hdrc6cE_RnyTW0gNlPsLLrCliP42qt7Fpr2uQJjjrzF38SY514BahhJ6IhY-uip-1yJWAFm-EKXsx4TQxbssxfda_09ha07aT6K8/s320/005+Puna+Thistletail.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>One of the most exciting sightings of the tour was a mammal in the higher cloud forests at 2000 m elevation. We were in touch with a couple of regular WINGS clients who happened to be on a totally separate tour just a week ahead of us, and they spotted what turns out to be Brown’s Toró clambering into its mossy nest, a caviomorph rodent (that is, related to the guinea pig, capybara, agouti, spiny-rats, and not closely related to rats). What was most amazing is that this species was discovered only in 1999 (described in 2006), and the only evidence of its existence until this week was the lone type specimen in the Lima museum. We hope that some more details of its natural history can be learned from this amazing find.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggvVRQH3yUj2greXAJQdjWWCO4Xbd1kGICfucDUlyWg6cddtzW_CTL9F6Nz_4F7ncm4-jxsAUZYev3xEN-sQKahMg2cka1HaWONORV6D82EMMP9y_EV3vY-11u2x8vDjJoWD0jqIdfkEI/s640/006+Isothrix+barbarabrownae.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="441" data-original-width="640" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggvVRQH3yUj2greXAJQdjWWCO4Xbd1kGICfucDUlyWg6cddtzW_CTL9F6Nz_4F7ncm4-jxsAUZYev3xEN-sQKahMg2cka1HaWONORV6D82EMMP9y_EV3vY-11u2x8vDjJoWD0jqIdfkEI/s320/006+Isothrix+barbarabrownae.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p>Among the highlights at our mid-elevation stop were the Andean Cock-of-the-rock lek, Peruvian Piedtail at garden flowers, a pair of Squirrel Cuckoos on the roadside (one carrying a praying mantis back to their nest), a kettle of 87 Swallow-tailed Kites taking off from their night roost and heading south to winter in Bolivia and Brazil, and this male Versicolored Barbet accompanied by a female Silver-beaked Tanager at the lodge’s feeders.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfhSly8DmbY9mdhyphenhyphenqY363BoS75MC21IhgAssInvIDP5Vj4QBXggaenIxZ5_roNQktbm29Pjre_Kv2_wvdGw1Ro5DoPDeokyfRoga7_shDUH-AkxF_bgXnYvn6_Bkv6WejshCG5UqgKfNk/s650/006+Silver-beaked+Tanager+and+Versicolored+Barbet.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="439" data-original-width="650" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfhSly8DmbY9mdhyphenhyphenqY363BoS75MC21IhgAssInvIDP5Vj4QBXggaenIxZ5_roNQktbm29Pjre_Kv2_wvdGw1Ro5DoPDeokyfRoga7_shDUH-AkxF_bgXnYvn6_Bkv6WejshCG5UqgKfNk/s320/006+Silver-beaked+Tanager+and+Versicolored+Barbet.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>Our last birding lodge was Villa Carmen, where an explosion of tropical diversity greeted us, and the soundscape of so many birds singing was almost overwhelming. We saw over 100 species before lunch each day, with a glowing male Band-tailed Manakin getting the most votes for most memorable bird of the tour. Chestnut-capped Puffbird, Rufous-capped Nunlet, Tawny-bellied Screech-Owl (nesting down in the top of a small, dead palm stem behind cabin 3), multiple Bluish-fronted Jacamars, Blue-throated Piping-Guan (with it’s amazing rattling wing display), Gray-cowled Wood-Rail in the trail almost at arm’s length, and this ear-piercing Red-throated Caracara putting on a show were just a few of the favorite sightings.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy3VU-7XgtzNt9q_GVeDIkI7djV2PvFGlyg995WRBjoZ7yBuoZndDlhyphenhyphenjCIy_gJ1riP3upDhP3heOj-qfatOyTEjnSLlw0Z71aGwub1v10F2uWHESqEN-2qhvmKIOIManSUa941lChceM/s640/007+Red-throated+Caracara.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="466" data-original-width="640" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy3VU-7XgtzNt9q_GVeDIkI7djV2PvFGlyg995WRBjoZ7yBuoZndDlhyphenhyphenjCIy_gJ1riP3upDhP3heOj-qfatOyTEjnSLlw0Z71aGwub1v10F2uWHESqEN-2qhvmKIOIManSUa941lChceM/s320/007+Red-throated+Caracara.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p>Two new hummingbird feeding stations just up the road from Villa Carmen really filled out our birding list, one of them hosting 18 species at the feeder, including this amazing male Rufous-crested Coquette. A bonus there was Buff-tailed Sicklebill that came to its favorite heliconia that was growing off to the side of the garden.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9JoEyq57GpK-M3GHXajn3tUuwsU6FySg_hCdXpK5bP-zR4YFbAXyVxJCNIM4QkfnVeGNFp45OVBQR8vixaI8gW8zQ4BsLAIv1VW5cvtclXThaJP0NGt0QBt59Htjiu48mZ_wPeXundzQ/s640/009+Rufous-crested+Coquette.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="418" data-original-width="640" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9JoEyq57GpK-M3GHXajn3tUuwsU6FySg_hCdXpK5bP-zR4YFbAXyVxJCNIM4QkfnVeGNFp45OVBQR8vixaI8gW8zQ4BsLAIv1VW5cvtclXThaJP0NGt0QBt59Htjiu48mZ_wPeXundzQ/s320/009+Rufous-crested+Coquette.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Finally, among the exciting non-bird highlights were the amazing butterflies we saw everywhere. This minute metalmark <i>Syrmatia lamia</i> on our first morning at Villa Carmen was special, as this rarely seen species represents the first sighting in the entire Manu region, the most diverse area in the world for butterflies and also one of the most thoroughly sampled regions anywhere.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvM8HQPx5RDEVFfaTINlvFeNDbYuT1G24qy7t4GkOwokmHJtgHlqp1FV1VkpVkJ52xKTH8PVG0K9WUegCLm0l9z1jTr9u9bHSs75bsD566rIKIikwsqGKfIzPzk7DHiOoF-Vgw4aZ3JsM/s650/008+Syrmatia+lamia.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="408" data-original-width="650" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvM8HQPx5RDEVFfaTINlvFeNDbYuT1G24qy7t4GkOwokmHJtgHlqp1FV1VkpVkJ52xKTH8PVG0K9WUegCLm0l9z1jTr9u9bHSs75bsD566rIKIikwsqGKfIzPzk7DHiOoF-Vgw4aZ3JsM/s320/008+Syrmatia+lamia.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>I’m now heading onward for our Jungle Lodges of the Madre de Dios tour, where more fabulous birding and natural history experiences await us.</p><div><br /></div>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-65587911600958039422021-07-27T12:52:00.005-07:002021-07-27T12:54:20.950-07:00A Gambel's White-crowned Sparrow Irruption<div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYqcSrJtvUf6aCKVg7l1C1uDYPy7i7MOO1b3PpdElq5kmzoTF718Jt-RcLIX2TbVV0WtS8DbRE59WPBX4rxxAZ50sIkaGcKOaAZf71WPJ8BctUdYRcQvLAALEf1qy3_ihPgtq6hJnvvkw/s887/White-crowned+Sparrow.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="564" data-original-width="887" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYqcSrJtvUf6aCKVg7l1C1uDYPy7i7MOO1b3PpdElq5kmzoTF718Jt-RcLIX2TbVV0WtS8DbRE59WPBX4rxxAZ50sIkaGcKOaAZf71WPJ8BctUdYRcQvLAALEf1qy3_ihPgtq6hJnvvkw/s320/White-crowned+Sparrow.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />This blog isn’t dead yet – I’m still here and do have lots to share. I have much that I could have been blogging about these past three months – so much that the idea of catching up seems too overwhelming a task to even start on. But here I am, and I can’t let the amazing White-crowned Sparrow migration I witnessed in the yard this past spring go undocumented.</div><div><br /></div><div>I’ll briefly review the subspecies of White-crowned Sparrows we have in Oregon and then share some photos from the phenomenal migration of Gambel’s White-crowned Sparrows that birders experienced in western Oregon in mid-April this year. It would be nice to at least to have a written record of what transpired on my blog, since it seems to have been a rather rare event, with essentially nothing published of this phenomenon, at least in the literature covering Oregon ornithology and in the available species accounts of White-crowned Sparrow.</div><div><br /></div><div>In Oregon we have three distinct subspecies of White-crowned Sparrow.</div><div><br /></div><div>1.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>Zonotrichia leucophrys pugetensis</i> is the population that breeds in western Oregon, from just east of the Cascade crest to the coast, and much of the population is either sedentary or short-distance migrants. Presumably those that breed at the highest elevations migrate the farthest, and our resident birds are augmented by some wintering here from farther north. Apart from the voice, a pale yellow bill and dull blackish back stripes separated by buffy stripes are characteristic of this subspecies.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRsRkC_DQvj_ux4sNmBPjy7xA7g7nxQIP5UFNe5UOTVq_7RL27xg5JVVg6diNs1rHmrUnFjvDHpVCcU6nmlG0kROPnowOY6-jKer-XgijkzImLMkTHUaOp6FDSGS1BGQDgFLYyr7KNpSc/s777/White-crowned+Sparrow+pugetensis+Cape+Meares.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="518" data-original-width="777" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRsRkC_DQvj_ux4sNmBPjy7xA7g7nxQIP5UFNe5UOTVq_7RL27xg5JVVg6diNs1rHmrUnFjvDHpVCcU6nmlG0kROPnowOY6-jKer-XgijkzImLMkTHUaOp6FDSGS1BGQDgFLYyr7KNpSc/s320/White-crowned+Sparrow+pugetensis+Cape+Meares.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This <i>pugetensis </i>White-crowned Sparrow was at Cape Meares on the Oregon coast where a common breeder.</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>2.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>Zonotrichia leucophrys oriantha</i> breeds in scattered brushy mountain meadows east of the Cascades. This entire population is migratory and winters mostly in northwestern Mexico, with occasional individuals in southeastern Arizona. The black lores and reddish bill are more like the nominate subspecies of eastern North America.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1VkqkQclsiuB52r2sH6bDy7OVOJny9WCPZEVLkNpYFBsxv69kk-Mx-tklxhpIPO-IHTx460jgPWjdwLN_mWllppoKClr7w6RVvy-WhyjOwQV7EamYjKBQf5L59Tb1dpO9ekPPRKTyBkw/s822/White-crowned+Sparrow+oriantha.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="733" data-original-width="822" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1VkqkQclsiuB52r2sH6bDy7OVOJny9WCPZEVLkNpYFBsxv69kk-Mx-tklxhpIPO-IHTx460jgPWjdwLN_mWllppoKClr7w6RVvy-WhyjOwQV7EamYjKBQf5L59Tb1dpO9ekPPRKTyBkw/s320/White-crowned+Sparrow+oriantha.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This <i>oriantha</i> White-crowned Sparrow was at Yellowstone National Park, where they breed.</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>3.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>Zonotrichia leucophrys gambelii</i> is the widespread breeder in the high arctic regions of NW North America and is essentially entirely migratory, mostly wintering in eastern Washington and Oregon south to NW Mexico. It’s the abundant wintering subspecies in the SW United States. Its bill is an orangey yellow, and the dark back stripes have a reddish hue, with the pale stripes being grayish white.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIdOX9qOS-jbZsFAtkEAqpnRledu4DXZagAYgvEDiXhrt8p5YBXZvWIu_5nd1Oi02g4GnnTj2z3adGIGCuZ0t8zyQ4GbPD2I-3XchmF4n7tbrgrEtZQQakXh-CbSJcgQf4did-k1-GMGc/s1000/White-crowned+Sparrow+gambelii+Lakeview.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="905" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIdOX9qOS-jbZsFAtkEAqpnRledu4DXZagAYgvEDiXhrt8p5YBXZvWIu_5nd1Oi02g4GnnTj2z3adGIGCuZ0t8zyQ4GbPD2I-3XchmF4n7tbrgrEtZQQakXh-CbSJcgQf4did-k1-GMGc/s320/White-crowned+Sparrow+gambelii+Lakeview.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A migrant <i>gambelii</i> White-crowned Sparrow where it is an expected migrant near Lakeview, Oregon.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div>Very much like the winter of 2019-2020, this past winter I had two or three White-crowned Sparrows of the locally and regionally breeding subspecies <i>Z. l. pugetensis</i> in the yard as part of the winter flock of passerines. They used the brush pile for cover and took advantage of my practice of scattering bird seed on the ground all around the yard. This species is not common nor unexpected in suburban Eugene, though if you go just outside town to slightly more rural areas, winter flocks will have dozens of them. These are essentially all <i>Z. l. pugetensis</i>, which also breeds throughout most of western Oregon (especially in brushy areas on the coast and in clearcuts in mountains), and there is some regional migratory movement that is little understood. If you go back just a couple blogs, you’ll see where I documented that a Canadian bird was passing through here at the end of March, presumably wintering somewhere not far south of here and heading back to breed in southwesternmost Canada.</div><div><br /></div><div>These are photos of a first winter and an adult <i>pugetensis</i> that wintered in the yard.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5f3-o0j2HT2pqVKJyFjMyCdx9kYeuwJwSv9i6bMTcrHb9_YxIAs3rKVSdLvsgX9fhu7HjDA6CXz7iTPmvSNZA-nJ0WObiMFMl-AHf5vS6yu8Mui2mrvYnJWnM9vksDYaIi_ETFmBMkIo/s1000/White-crowned+Sparrow+pugetensis+Eugene+1.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="651" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5f3-o0j2HT2pqVKJyFjMyCdx9kYeuwJwSv9i6bMTcrHb9_YxIAs3rKVSdLvsgX9fhu7HjDA6CXz7iTPmvSNZA-nJ0WObiMFMl-AHf5vS6yu8Mui2mrvYnJWnM9vksDYaIi_ETFmBMkIo/s320/White-crowned+Sparrow+pugetensis+Eugene+1.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP4YLEWuJqpQq16czS7BMFOCvpFn5mj_WPQTu4JTCN5LNkHJJwqCuQmIF_rauRaykS3IIfPvWyjppsNv2wEM02amM4gd1ePj1ywaXJ6YvKHAdGC17zTbzDdzGg764RuVIKaX8knnf95dg/s1000/White-crowned+Sparrow+pugetensis+Eugene+2.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP4YLEWuJqpQq16czS7BMFOCvpFn5mj_WPQTu4JTCN5LNkHJJwqCuQmIF_rauRaykS3IIfPvWyjppsNv2wEM02amM4gd1ePj1ywaXJ6YvKHAdGC17zTbzDdzGg764RuVIKaX8knnf95dg/s320/White-crowned+Sparrow+pugetensis+Eugene+2.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Note the pale yellow bill and blackish back stripes.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>Suddenly on April 13, there was a huge increase in White-crowned Sparrows at my brush pile, rising to 24 total birds on April 15 and 16, and continuing for a couple of weeks in decreasing numbers before the last ones departed by April 30. It turns out all these new birds were the high-arctic breeding subspecies <i>Z. l. gambelii.</i> I got many photos of them and recorded their distinctive songs several times. It’s worth noting here that a year ago, while I was paying very close attention to bird movements in the yard and neighborhood, there was no such influx of migrant White-crowned Sparrows. In any event, it was that song, instantly transporting me back to my back yard in Tucson, that clued me in.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN06Bwezwpvu_ks8jNONgfySsMzYjdcsE-rhZkpQSUyxReoU1Y0sZ3dCNEPVcKmB2RCkEIZPGFVn0H1zd-wMixU99XtHIn-ftQqcHPn31zjU20FTv-EqXXGjNPyZu_whQdbPNznhxWnpQ/s783/White-crowned+Sparrow+gambelii+Eugene+1+singing.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="561" data-original-width="783" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN06Bwezwpvu_ks8jNONgfySsMzYjdcsE-rhZkpQSUyxReoU1Y0sZ3dCNEPVcKmB2RCkEIZPGFVn0H1zd-wMixU99XtHIn-ftQqcHPn31zjU20FTv-EqXXGjNPyZu_whQdbPNznhxWnpQ/s320/White-crowned+Sparrow+gambelii+Eugene+1+singing.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The first five notes of George Lloyd's Symphony No. 5<br />https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XqBsMfn8fy8<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>The actual status of <i>Z. l. gambelii</i> in western Oregon is poorly known, though the references I checked (albeit dizzyingly circular) simply state that it’s the common migrant east of the Cascades and less common west of the Cascades. It seems the only published evidence of their presence in western Oregon is a mention of a late April specimen (“and at other dates”) from a collector Portland in the late 1920’s. Since then, it seems little has been done to document this subspecies. Recent eBird submissions do show that that they occur from time to time, but when exactly, how many, how often, and under what circumstances? Unfortunately, the lack of awareness and apathy from birders who can’t count it as a species on their lifelists has resulted in few attempts to document the status of what actually may be a perfectly legitimate species.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD478O8JXhhiKVt8RyvDYUmQafvGPaML1b1UuMG2aZKy7MThrqwTzj7_OEAf-NVnkIPKpDShLE7Zk7v8kHAeGQ3r9uQ0hGBTXq9_qHmFKRkwq1eeusM7wRO0mtETneQgCegjvujORgLno/s747/White-crowned+Sparrow+gambelii+Eugene+2.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="505" data-original-width="747" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD478O8JXhhiKVt8RyvDYUmQafvGPaML1b1UuMG2aZKy7MThrqwTzj7_OEAf-NVnkIPKpDShLE7Zk7v8kHAeGQ3r9uQ0hGBTXq9_qHmFKRkwq1eeusM7wRO0mtETneQgCegjvujORgLno/s320/White-crowned+Sparrow+gambelii+Eugene+2.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This <i>gambelii</i> White-crowned Sparrow in my yard shows the orangey bill, and the often brighter and broader white head stripes are apparent.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8gkRVdiXN51qOjjT_ODmuuVByI8ZI6q02ZCeTixka0MERRtkvUSA9Up_PKQYpszWWcpubMpY9pjrtkmbYiZMZb6NZU11KuuJxV2ev_kLjltkrgP25p6XfcjY946Tk3kcMg_bgipxmEDE/s1000/White-crowned+Sparrow+gambelii+Eugene+6.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="550" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8gkRVdiXN51qOjjT_ODmuuVByI8ZI6q02ZCeTixka0MERRtkvUSA9Up_PKQYpszWWcpubMpY9pjrtkmbYiZMZb6NZU11KuuJxV2ev_kLjltkrgP25p6XfcjY946Tk3kcMg_bgipxmEDE/s320/White-crowned+Sparrow+gambelii+Eugene+6.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the 24 or so <i>gambelii</i> White-crowned Sparrows in my yard. In this light the reddish brown streaks on the back are very obvious.</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>I’m an ear birder with a notoriously poor visual memory, so my mental map of the various White-crowned Sparrow subspecies (and their dialects — maybe the subject of a later blog but perhaps too complicated…) is based on their songs. I grew up in western Oregon becoming very familiar with the classis <i>pugetensis</i> song of “Teeew, titit-ti-tieew, titititi,” with some variation on the ending. Then I spent some years (decades) living in Arizona where <i>gambelii</i> dominates as a migrant and winter bird, joined by birds of the interior breeding <i>oriantha</i> in migration and occasionally in winter. Birding Colorado, Utah, and SE Oregon in summers familiarized me with the visually distinctive <i>oriantha</i> birds, but it was always their distinctive song that struck me.</div><div><br /></div><div>In Arizona, the abundant wintering White-crowned Sparrows, numbering into the 1000’s on a good day, were 99% <i>gambelii</i>. In the growing daylengths of the early year, the males would practice their song, and there was little variation. I’ve always likened it to the first five notes of George Lloyd’s Symphony No. 5. (It might be a relatively obscure piece of music, but it’s apparently his most famous work and worth knowing. I think of it as a mix of Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue with Holst’s The Planets, maybe with a bit of Bernstein’s West Side Story thrown in.) It was a common sound in my Tucson back yard.</div><div><br /></div><div>I moved back to Oregon finally in September 2019, back into the land of our reliable resident, year-round <i>pugetensis</i>, and their song familiar from my youth. That’s all I saw here until I led my Oregon in Late Summer tour for WINGS in early September 2020, and we saw an abundance of southbound migrant <i>gambelii</i> as soon as we reached the central Oregon lava lands and Great Basin sagebrush steppe. I didn’t try to discern them using any possible field marks, going on the common knowledge that migrant White-crowned Sparrows east of the Cascade crest are all <i>gambelii</i>. And that’s still the apparent truth.</div><div><br /></div><div>On October 24, 2020, while I was birding the Philomath Sewage Ponds about an hour north of where I live, I was watching the sparrows coming to a known seed drop, and I heard the obvious five notes of Lloyd’s Symphony No. 5, saw the bird, and took some photos, thinking maybe these will prove to be distinctive, should I ever try to find the time to tell the subspecies apart visually. In any event, that was the first time I had knowingly heard Gambel’s White-crowned Sparrow in western Oregon. This is my best photo of that bird. I can now see in the photos that the more orangey bill and reddish stripes to the back are quite noticeable. From looking at eBird submissions, it appears that this bird actually spent the winter here.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYciClCxRVINoSioFgSusSXeJMCitAs7mMMKpDVu1DgFN8JjoqugnxrKJ_OwYc54eq5iHL8k5ICos_SdztTHTfKGkBi9dwCfqOp95jsp4gkmzESSS3nZMqdpHTbhc1P2vV4e9U4BJ_0eo/s1000/White-crowned+Sparrow+gambelii+PPP.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="835" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYciClCxRVINoSioFgSusSXeJMCitAs7mMMKpDVu1DgFN8JjoqugnxrKJ_OwYc54eq5iHL8k5ICos_SdztTHTfKGkBi9dwCfqOp95jsp4gkmzESSS3nZMqdpHTbhc1P2vV4e9U4BJ_0eo/s320/White-crowned+Sparrow+gambelii+PPP.jpeg" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>We had some very unusual weather here this spring (though there aren’t many on planet who couldn’t say the same thing these days). In early April just before these stray Gambel’s White-crowneds showed up, we had several days of persistent north and northeast winds and clear skies. Throughout the month we had drier weather (the driest April on record, in fact), colder nights, and warmer days than usual. It seems that these sparrows normally migrate only east of the mountains, and that makes sense considering that they’re coming from winter grounds in inland areas south and east of here and are returning to inland Arctic areas to breed. A route west of the Cascades would direct any northbound migrants along the coast and to Pacific forests of SW Canada and SE Alaska, not the interior Arctic. This is the route taken by our abundant migrant Russet-backed Swainson’s Thrushes and <i>chryseola</i> Wilson’s Warblers, for example.</div><div><br /></div><div>So my guess is that this spring the unusual weather patterns, specifically the strong winds from the NE at the crucial altitude, led these sparrows to stray west of the Cascades. But if that is indeed the answer it only brings up more questions. If we were to have the exact same weather pattern next year, would we also see Gambel’s White-crowned on the west side? Or does it only happen in years with a bigger than normal winter population moving back north? How often does this happen? I’d love to keep track next year, but I’ll be leading my Jamaica tour in the middle of that same time frame. And I hope that a greater awareness will also result in more birders paying attention, documenting their sightings, and submitting their sightings to eBird.</div><div><br /></div></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguwMusMdKBCPR75T84duiXgWo8cb_4n0rh76yegdGYdjA07if4Yj2eTKTLR4-IUI9-Rn07dkzC6eMIFK1ML_4Kmg-Jotd9s_g5Pvv4caRYgl4iDY1iVprVs7xJNZCWAz3p-6qUf2tYcjU/s1000/Cooper%2527s+Hawk.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="613" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguwMusMdKBCPR75T84duiXgWo8cb_4n0rh76yegdGYdjA07if4Yj2eTKTLR4-IUI9-Rn07dkzC6eMIFK1ML_4Kmg-Jotd9s_g5Pvv4caRYgl4iDY1iVprVs7xJNZCWAz3p-6qUf2tYcjU/s320/Cooper%2527s+Hawk.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">This Cooper’s Hawk, one of our resident neighborhood pair, took note of the sudden influx of sparrows and spent several days in the yard, though it wasn’t very successful at catching any of them.</div><div><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-72909814063050326732021-04-12T08:15:00.013-07:002021-04-12T15:23:48.258-07:00Answer to Sound Quiz<p>The Sound Quiz I posted the day before yesterday is a Purple Finch.</p><p>This was given by an adult male Purple Finch, which had been perched next to the female, and both were giving call notes. The female flew to a tree about 20 meters away, and the male then began a series of soft call notes and subsongs. The subsong is often just a softened version of the long song, incorporating just a bit of mimicry, so I thought this one was unusual in being rather loud and having no Purple Finch sounds at all.</p><p>Twelve species were mentioned in the answers I received from my post to Oregon Birders On Line, and the top guess was Ruby-crowned Kinglet, which I found interesting. That species has a ridiculously complex song of very similar length and pitch, but it has only limited variety based on a set of three elements. Once you know those elements well, this song doesn’t sound like a Ruby-crown any more.</p><p>Observers who realized that mimicry was involved immediately thought of Lesser Goldfinch, which makes sense, as it is our most notorious mimic. Lesser Goldfinch incorporates many other species’ calls and song bits in its normal long song, and it does so many, so fast, your brain can’t quite keep up. Once you’ve recognized Violet-green Swallow and American Robin call notes and thought “wow”, it’s already gone on and mimicked five other species. But when it does this, the song is several seconds long and also incorporates many stereotypical Lesser Goldfinch sounds.</p><p>This quiz bird’s song is 100% mimicry though. This song differs from a mimicry-packed Lesser Goldfinch song in being only 2.5 seconds long and is not interspersed any goldfinch calls. It’s also a bit lower pitched than a typical Lesser Goldfinch song, and though it might be indistinguishable from the same song type given by a Cassin’s Finch, this was recorded in my Eugene backyard, where Cassin’s Finch doesn’t occur. Mimicry in House Finches seems to be rare or even undocumented.</p><p>The full recording starting with call notes, and unfiltered traffic noise can be heard here:</p><iframe frameborder="0" height="115" scrolling="no" src="https://www.xeno-canto.org/638519/embed?simple=1" width="340"></iframe><p>The one song phrase I used in the quiz is the last one at 2:30. Here’s a screen shot of the sonogram that I marked up using Preview.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtBqgInFMP94TK_PXZcdzlHCJfyo8n4223wnAwuxz_swlM0_6QwJjee5ePJgYVlkcMAc87VQPxnHOWFj7P9B2SH1JlcClJK8l0zxEVOo3lPiXiKABCh_iMPbGofaUv6NMMFlty8FkA0-o/s2048/Sonogram.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1145" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtBqgInFMP94TK_PXZcdzlHCJfyo8n4223wnAwuxz_swlM0_6QwJjee5ePJgYVlkcMAc87VQPxnHOWFj7P9B2SH1JlcClJK8l0zxEVOo3lPiXiKABCh_iMPbGofaUv6NMMFlty8FkA0-o/s320/Sonogram.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I interpret there to be eight mimicked elements smashed together. The first is Northern Flicker, and the next two are both different call types of American Robin. The fourth I figured is the rattle call of Hairy Woodpecker. I had originally thought it was a close match for the fast rattle of White-headed Woodpecker, but I’ve since determined that that recording in my library is a mislabeled Hairy.<p></p><p>The next element is a rapid buzz, which I think might be Dark-eyed Junco or maybe Pine Siskin. Then there is one slurred note that is too fragmentary for me to place; and it might actually be a continuation of the previous element.</p><p>The next-to-last element is two notes that only when hearing them in complete isolation can you realize that they are Barn Swallow. Finally, the last element is a perfect Hutton’s Vireo.</p><p>To illustrate the last two, I created phony recordings by copying and pasting these same elements into a rhythm that might be heard in nature. When done this way, the mimicked species becomes more obvious. </p>
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Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-88960688273739557752021-04-10T11:18:00.002-07:002021-04-10T12:33:49.994-07:00A Song Quiz<p>I posted this song quiz to Oregon Birders Online, and it's been fun to see how different people hear it. I'll add the ID and my analysis tomorrow.</p><p>I recorded it in my Eugene back yard on the morning of March 30 and saw the bird, so I know what it is.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>
<iframe src='https://www.xeno-canto.org/637857/embed?simple=1' scrolling='no' frameborder='0' width='340' height='115'></iframe>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-9966200384794401672021-04-10T10:50:00.002-07:002021-04-10T10:50:50.898-07:00A Visitor from Canada in the Brush Pile<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWF92SjuBo4fnlLGzyNmrexY10tkxHUYiPXceUCkFgMbKHN4mg_JBTl8RnfTmBles6TFJrOymxGUo3XyX7hNhhTj8Yn38fIQUkUjBkNbykJKgvpfR-hAgPBSlTXJSAbPRsUtn5hC3vMew/s1000/White-crowned+Sparrow.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="627" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWF92SjuBo4fnlLGzyNmrexY10tkxHUYiPXceUCkFgMbKHN4mg_JBTl8RnfTmBles6TFJrOymxGUo3XyX7hNhhTj8Yn38fIQUkUjBkNbykJKgvpfR-hAgPBSlTXJSAbPRsUtn5hC3vMew/s320/White-crowned+Sparrow.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>On the bright and frosty morning of March 30, I spotted what is quite likely the most unusual bird I have seen in my yard so far (having lived here in north Eugene for a year and seven months). The only real rarities I’ve had so far have been Lark Sparrow (a common bird only in eastern and far SW Oregon), and a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker (a state-wide vagrant that was a one-day wonder). No, this bird wasn’t a vagrant, though it was much rarer than either of those two: it was the White-crowned Sparrow pictured above, and while this species doesn’t usually strike one as being out of the ordinary, I draw your attention to its right leg.</div><div><br /></div><div>I nearly shrieked out loud when I saw it. I’m not really well-connected to the bird banding community, though I enjoy banding and have personally banded several hundred birds (including over 500 in one single, insane morning on an islet in Germany’s Baltic Sea 24 years ago). But I am fairly confident that no one is banding in my immediate neighborhood. And I’m quite aware of how rare and exciting the random sighting is of a banded bird in the wild, especially a passerine. This bird was present all this day and the next, and I snapped over 700 photos in the first few minutes. Fortunately, this bird was unafraid of my presence as I sat comfortably on my deck chair while it scratched around my brush pile, foraging on seed that I frequently scatter on the ground. The band was loose enough that it moved around, and the sun was bright enough that I was able to get a fast shutter speed, and I also knew to underexpose the shot by at least two full stops in order to not “burn” the image of the reflective band.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhugZv5Zu5ykyYYVfnY0Rj19vPR2jiOEZKcrHePoiTfvWEILM3Hstn19bIenFyGFpszl0_sgkinjtT-a-CJ0slSK8icKleZ4iIOkrIxj0mX_W4WOu-_kcSsB9Dm5z1dOuQPgbNJq1Dwr5Y/s1000/White-crowned+Sparrow+%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="560" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhugZv5Zu5ykyYYVfnY0Rj19vPR2jiOEZKcrHePoiTfvWEILM3Hstn19bIenFyGFpszl0_sgkinjtT-a-CJ0slSK8icKleZ4iIOkrIxj0mX_W4WOu-_kcSsB9Dm5z1dOuQPgbNJq1Dwr5Y/s320/White-crowned+Sparrow+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Out of all of those images, I needed no more than three in just the right poses to be able read the entire nine-digit number. I entered the data on the USGS website https://www.pwrc.usgs.gov/bbl/bblretrv/, and instantaneously I had an automated response:</div><div><br /></div><div>INFORMATION FROM OUR FILES:</div><div>Species: Puget Sound White-crowned Sparrow</div><div>Date banded: 04/20/2018</div><div>Banding Location: NEAR RICHMOND, BRITISH COLUMBIA, CANADA</div><div>Age: HATCHED IN 2016 OR EARLIER</div><div>Sex: UNKNOWN</div><div><br /></div><div>Richmond is a southern suburb of Vancouver, and the age of the bird at the time of banding shows that it will be at least five years old this summer. I’ve been watching the brush pile assiduously all winter, and especially in the past week inspecting the leg of every bird, and it’s definitely a new bird as of March 30 and was here just two days. I’ve been hoping to receive an email directly from the bander, as surely they’re at least as excited as I am to have such an amazing band recovery. They must have received the same automatic email that I did, and they would probably be the only one who might have answers to the many questions that this sighting leads to. The only question that this sighting answers is “do any of the White-crowned Sparrows we see here in March come from Canada?” But I wonder where this bird spent the winter. I wonder where it was going to. Does it return to the area where it was banded every year? Are there other sightings of this same bird? Have other banded White-crowned Sparrows from this part of BC been spotted elsewhere? Unfortunately, the USGS reply doesn’t tell me who banded it, and eleven days later, I’ve heard nothing. I'll post here should I receive any news.</div><div><br /></div><div>Spring has sprung, and birds are on the move, and seeing the changes is fun. I’ve had just two immature White-crowned Sparrows all winter, and one had started molting in the black into the brown head stripes well before the other. Starting a few weeks ago, they were joined by an adult every few days. Finally, as of today I have three adults and one immature; one of the adult-plumaged birds is probably the more advanced immature that I slowly watched molt in, while the same lagging immature was here until about two days ago.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw2wouBkAo3EXd1XFy6bQy7rS-ejydYaT_RSRGO3DZ92Cbdhmo4ieaNWbqI-xtzcRymPHXDNJDj1XoAIoRRpSTNZFB7jVvJ0wBFg6Ke8Xa2PNrRpWoD4KMAmloD0I4DUGEKcdGWjogla0/s1000/White-crowned+Sparrow+%25282%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="658" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw2wouBkAo3EXd1XFy6bQy7rS-ejydYaT_RSRGO3DZ92Cbdhmo4ieaNWbqI-xtzcRymPHXDNJDj1XoAIoRRpSTNZFB7jVvJ0wBFg6Ke8Xa2PNrRpWoD4KMAmloD0I4DUGEKcdGWjogla0/s320/White-crowned+Sparrow+%25282%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div>And also suddenly as of April 8, there is a new adult in the yard, a very loudly and persistently singing bird that has the classic NW Oregon <i>pugetensis</i> dialect.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVCfGF0yaLE7e-ZPT0gZ_s5zLbFbCdFRlmJKSxxtXGVcbuCfaAH14n4Ny9odXwC_ItCiZWlva5rYMOHsgfIu0T5z3Hnzkaebduvu94YnEclU9LYSpV4E9iON9QISldd_FwNC-DoMJUT28/s1000/White-crowned+Sparrow+%25284%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="724" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVCfGF0yaLE7e-ZPT0gZ_s5zLbFbCdFRlmJKSxxtXGVcbuCfaAH14n4Ny9odXwC_ItCiZWlva5rYMOHsgfIu0T5z3Hnzkaebduvu94YnEclU9LYSpV4E9iON9QISldd_FwNC-DoMJUT28/s320/White-crowned+Sparrow+%25284%2529.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div>I’ve had one Lincoln’s Sparrow call the brush pile home all winter. Suddenly on March 4 it was joined by a second bird, though they don’t tolerate each other’s presence in the same brush pile for long. As of this morning, at least one is still here.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj22c0q7RY0yt8-krVK2cyuViereyp6J4XuQ5jcEBfY1jkqzmFnv75pDruObIR5Uka0msa4RglcUiVEE9yZqLLbrCi1kQMI5J75i7Sle85Zoox6R1fpKZAuomhO90nzNMtUhOFBa8oO-X0/s1000/Lincoln%2527s+Sparrow+%25282%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="742" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj22c0q7RY0yt8-krVK2cyuViereyp6J4XuQ5jcEBfY1jkqzmFnv75pDruObIR5Uka0msa4RglcUiVEE9yZqLLbrCi1kQMI5J75i7Sle85Zoox6R1fpKZAuomhO90nzNMtUhOFBa8oO-X0/s320/Lincoln%2527s+Sparrow+%25282%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div>I had a single Fox Sparrow all winter too. A second bird popped in briefly and wasn’t tolerated on March 12, then March 28 was the last I saw of my winter bird. A single Song Sparrow has been here as well every day, last on April 3. It did not like the Lincoln’s Sparrow, and it also regularly chased only one of the White-crowned Sparrows.</div><div><br /></div><div>Eleven Golden-crowned Sparrows rounded out the brush pile flock all winter, but there’s changeover there too. I now have five, and since I didn’t notice much molting going on, it’s quite possible that the five stunning alpha-like adults now are totally new birds, while the immatures all moved on to molt farther north.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJZRqDQ5rFsAd1Oqg6FKqjt61_g9Q8eoyFY95afX214r2mibchRtCzJFeXOon5PgYtHGkn_wLeYn99delnBY9gSUKV3o0BW1MepTHr8YopjJ7SLrimorSZRKCl171w-gIb0F4WATYgTjk/s1000/Golden-crowned+Sparrow.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="579" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJZRqDQ5rFsAd1Oqg6FKqjt61_g9Q8eoyFY95afX214r2mibchRtCzJFeXOon5PgYtHGkn_wLeYn99delnBY9gSUKV3o0BW1MepTHr8YopjJ7SLrimorSZRKCl171w-gIb0F4WATYgTjk/s320/Golden-crowned+Sparrow.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />And it’s also a bit sad to see the Dark-eyed Juncos move on to breed in more forested habitats. I had over 40 all winter, though they don’t mind forging in the open and were much less bound to the brush pile. There are fewer than 10 left this morning, and while I’ll miss them, they’ll be back soon enough next fall, and I won’t miss the chore of scattering seed for them all over the yard. This "cassiar" junco has been here all winter. It's like a Slate-colored with a more contrasting dark hood.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs74mQdPKcKHRbTf55zFNJzGvHTFqF57yuxzmURz2YuMPCvW0oDLuULxtCjDuY_Ehw1Rm6fiuv2AhlB68-nX4umAOJUj0O9ZKrI_0uXsPIECzAUulgWvboTWJFl8Eu0KrCYS4nDDB-K7k/s1000/Dark-eyed+Junco.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="428" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs74mQdPKcKHRbTf55zFNJzGvHTFqF57yuxzmURz2YuMPCvW0oDLuULxtCjDuY_Ehw1Rm6fiuv2AhlB68-nX4umAOJUj0O9ZKrI_0uXsPIECzAUulgWvboTWJFl8Eu0KrCYS4nDDB-K7k/s320/Dark-eyed+Junco.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I like to say I won’t miss the Pine Siskins. There are still over 40 in the yard this morning, and they are swine, shoveling food out of the feeders and edging out the shier American and Lesser Goldfinches. But their presence and sounds are cheerful, and I’ve enjoyed hearing all the species they mimic in their jumbled song. The other day I recorded one doing a very good Olive-sided Flycatcher.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzlw5tXs3_JbCZguflgIO1hngI-wzyIIbvc5TihpuziFh4xy-uv8ANuXV9Q4R6h9GRx8cTJ9G1CNk7ErUgojw73US7oSdvT4Qg_1IA9WWPCEeYxFcD7Thdi2iACKHI8VvPoRQWgxkeR3s/s1000/Pine+Siskin.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="604" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzlw5tXs3_JbCZguflgIO1hngI-wzyIIbvc5TihpuziFh4xy-uv8ANuXV9Q4R6h9GRx8cTJ9G1CNk7ErUgojw73US7oSdvT4Qg_1IA9WWPCEeYxFcD7Thdi2iACKHI8VvPoRQWgxkeR3s/s320/Pine+Siskin.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />March also saw a lot of movement of Red-tailed Hawks and Bald Eagles, but overhead, not in the brush pile. Only once did I see them in the same patch of sky, and the frisky hawk decided to harass an eagle.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaBsd-0tV57Q3HszGbr_JMirpp7YPG4GntXuiGHijFTts4Mr9ZRxgOvSX4ORZT9m4ttd6ns7ndI5gnw-DtqlFr1uKuDGBjPDLIkVS2b_uLt_COh9lk6vOMD4ZBNsiLO9LSXQeWjNRj2lM/s996/Bald+Eagle+and+Red-tailed+Hawk.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="996" data-original-width="802" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaBsd-0tV57Q3HszGbr_JMirpp7YPG4GntXuiGHijFTts4Mr9ZRxgOvSX4ORZT9m4ttd6ns7ndI5gnw-DtqlFr1uKuDGBjPDLIkVS2b_uLt_COh9lk6vOMD4ZBNsiLO9LSXQeWjNRj2lM/s320/Bald+Eagle+and+Red-tailed+Hawk.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-39546434557792023962021-03-22T09:34:00.002-07:002021-03-22T09:36:20.985-07:00 Nocturnal Duck Commutes: Is a Flying Duck a Sitting Duck?<p>I think I’ve finally solved a huge mystery that has been bugging me for nearly a year. The very foundation of the scientific world is shaking, and the journal Nature is begging to publish my earthshattering discovery: Lesser Scaup, American Wigeon, and other ducks are commuting in the dark between the Willamette River and Fern Ridge Reservoir twice each day, and their route takes them directly over my house.</p><p>Ok, I was being facetious. I know full well that no one in the world cares, and that this is only barely worth blogging. And though my neighbors are nodding in a polite way of wanting to share in my excitement, I actually feel like I’ve cracked the DaVinci code here. Such are the simple pleasures during a year of quarantine.</p><p>The whole intrigue actually started well over a year ago, when my next-door neighbors’ son Thomas was visiting between seasonal birding and natural history jobs (yes, I’m envious). He texted me at dusk as he was jogging just a block away and saw a Barred Owl fly right towards our houses. I looked at the text maybe a minute too late but ran outside anyway, and of course I never saw the bird. That sighting, plus Thomas’s having seen a Barred Owl in their yard a few years ago when he was in high school, started my habit of having an evening glass of wine or herbal tea up on the carport roof, hoping to see or even hear an owl as it slowly got dark. I probably gave it up after a few days, but I sporadically continued my vigils over the next several weeks when it wasn’t raining, and in early April a year ago, I saw 11 ducks zip by right at dark, headed west-northwest. Over the next few days I noticed a pattern of this late evening fly-by, and at one point was confident enough only to call one bird an “<i>Aythya sp.</i>”, meaning it was either Lesser Scaup or Ring-necked Duck (both common here), but it was just too fast and and there wasn’t enough light to see details. A few days later I got good views of a pair of Hooded Mergansers making the same fly-by. But until now, “<i>Aythya sp.</i>” has been a dirty mark on my yard list. It has counted as a species, because I had not identified any other member of that genus to species.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6CaFv9m4WIFvZntXuiSo4bb3DE47UNDKiCZGs1zG-5Tr2rv9VkIwTrxUN1S09BmPLP0ipC-1rh5MlGgfdgTROkQYfl4xuWM5Yp3vB0egZo14RbAe2u1VCQP0vRRS4e9TrqA5YgQutvl8/s1000/Barred+Owl.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="729" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6CaFv9m4WIFvZntXuiSo4bb3DE47UNDKiCZGs1zG-5Tr2rv9VkIwTrxUN1S09BmPLP0ipC-1rh5MlGgfdgTROkQYfl4xuWM5Yp3vB0egZo14RbAe2u1VCQP0vRRS4e9TrqA5YgQutvl8/s320/Barred+Owl.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Barred Owl from Tillamook County, Oregon. I'm still waiting to add this to my yard list.</td></tr></tbody></table><p>This winter I’ve become a more regular fan of sitting out on the back or front deck as it gets dark, still hoping for a Barred Owl. And I noticed that every night, about 20 minutes after official sunset, a total of about 18-35 smallish, fast, diving ducks would fly over in 3-4 small groups. All were headed in exactly the same direction, and it was a nightly thing. The birds I was seeing each dusk were consistent with Lesser Scaup – not tiny like Bufflehead, and not long-billed like mergansers – but I couldn't be sure they weren't Ring-necked Ducks. Finally, one evening I got a longer and better view of the commuting ducks on one of their earlier arrivals, and I was convinced they were Lesser Scaup.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0JvKsK_IrQf0EF1K62ETqnW4ThR92rLemkXit81JmEYNzoa3YZD4EoFmeiycAaVvh2pB3G-dCsy2aLo0VhrXuAZCUqKcxn_PexU0TqXKY2nxRxiqE-GDSyPjDzVcIAfjfH18Ew_gMnsI/s1000/Dusk+from+Front+Porch+%25281%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0JvKsK_IrQf0EF1K62ETqnW4ThR92rLemkXit81JmEYNzoa3YZD4EoFmeiycAaVvh2pB3G-dCsy2aLo0VhrXuAZCUqKcxn_PexU0TqXKY2nxRxiqE-GDSyPjDzVcIAfjfH18Ew_gMnsI/s320/Dusk+from+Front+Porch+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dusk Vigil from my front deck</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>At about the same time in mid-January this year, I noticed that a similar number of Lesser Scaup were feeding along a ¼-mile stretch of the Willamette River just over a mile east of me. (It’s awesome to have bike paths along both sides of the river here, with a pedestrian and bike bridge due east of me – one of five such bridges in Eugene, as opposed to just four for cars.)</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy9V-PV5ZrONV2aLkKV9rauKeKvBJFVHYD7LdlAPX-dSvV43MPaeCUfROBsUu-Wtk1gOhJG7oB-tAopC8XA5vCiOvTkCGmbQ3hSytelUKsacIjyPyCE8NMGABZF1T8gojcGEUnQcmtQiw/s1000/Willamette+River+on+W+Bank+Bike+Path.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy9V-PV5ZrONV2aLkKV9rauKeKvBJFVHYD7LdlAPX-dSvV43MPaeCUfROBsUu-Wtk1gOhJG7oB-tAopC8XA5vCiOvTkCGmbQ3hSytelUKsacIjyPyCE8NMGABZF1T8gojcGEUnQcmtQiw/s320/Willamette+River+on+W+Bank+Bike+Path.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">West Bank Bike Path along the Willamette River in Eugene</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I suspected these might be the birds that are flying over my house.<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis-whucr1k0N8kyCaWpXeZlcJKzbW3XD9QoQuD4OJlyUict46n46m-P-TpAAr8xfSdj1lE7jyxeeX88hTBZ9FfZj0QArJI_V68aG9TtAdP7Hj1jRV5K9oPtL7g8wlAJRuxWLwrU3ds6Ls/s1000/Lesser+Scaup.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis-whucr1k0N8kyCaWpXeZlcJKzbW3XD9QoQuD4OJlyUict46n46m-P-TpAAr8xfSdj1lE7jyxeeX88hTBZ9FfZj0QArJI_V68aG9TtAdP7Hj1jRV5K9oPtL7g8wlAJRuxWLwrU3ds6Ls/s320/Lesser+Scaup.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lesser Scaup on the Willamette River</td></tr></tbody></table><p>I used Google Earth to draw a line from where this loose congregation of feeding scaup were to my house, and then extended that line to the next body of water, and bingo – Fern Ridge Dam! For these ducks, this would be a commute of about nine miles.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2dAeHRNtTf6NirJE3eV1SxXjdXdr7jYHKqSih6rbG4sTyhyXZvZ8qeBMhPQK-ismJNHBLQPyCoFCVs_0kviFtx7uHr9LILLs5zAcPToW_mgMp4-hdLYDYOBsrUdG7CzUwPdBbW75DRk0/s1000/Screen+Shot+2021-02-25+at+7.12.48+PM.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="494" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2dAeHRNtTf6NirJE3eV1SxXjdXdr7jYHKqSih6rbG4sTyhyXZvZ8qeBMhPQK-ismJNHBLQPyCoFCVs_0kviFtx7uHr9LILLs5zAcPToW_mgMp4-hdLYDYOBsrUdG7CzUwPdBbW75DRk0/s320/Screen+Shot+2021-02-25+at+7.12.48+PM.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The flight path commute of Lesser Scaup</td></tr></tbody></table><p>On March 1, just before dark, I biked over to the area of the Willamette River where the ducks tend to feed most often, and just a few minutes after I got there, a group of some 20+ Lesser Scaup pattered across the river into flight, zipped downstream as they gained altitude, circled around, flew right over me, and headed in exactly the direction of my house. That’s when I knew I had basically confirmed the identity of the commuting ducks.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJvSzTI8uwWlOws2n8amvZgwUsX3u7lhSFdgpvvQzAdR51W38x3obTm0maTHEWvo0PAPtEhML0pDf-Pgd9bZsO3i4alFdkOR-OzPfO4DT2Vo41SyguOYds7rlNcnqDwhGeqf3bApAdZjY/s1000/Willamette+River+on+W+Bank+Bike+Path+%25281%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJvSzTI8uwWlOws2n8amvZgwUsX3u7lhSFdgpvvQzAdR51W38x3obTm0maTHEWvo0PAPtEhML0pDf-Pgd9bZsO3i4alFdkOR-OzPfO4DT2Vo41SyguOYds7rlNcnqDwhGeqf3bApAdZjY/s320/Willamette+River+on+W+Bank+Bike+Path+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The westernmost bend of the Willamette River closest to Fern Ridge Reservoir</td></tr></tbody></table><br />One thing I have not done is positioned myself at Fern Ridge Dam to see the ducks arriving. Given that it would probably take them at least seven minutes to get to the dam, it would be too dark to see by the time they got there, and then I’d have a 45-minute bike ride back in the winter dark along busy roads. No thank you. Still, I’d like to know whether they are roosting just above the dam on the reservoir or on Kirk Pond just below the dam.<p></p><p>I’ve also been having my early morning coffee on the back deck well before light, and I can hear the ducks flying back to the Willamette River each morning. But a just like every scientific inquiry that has been answered, more questions are raised.</p><p>Why these birds are making this commute only while it’s dark? My guess is that it’s safer. Peregrine Falcon is not a rare bird in this region, and they almost exclusively prey on birds in flight. Once a Peregrine has gained altitude above its target, there is little chance to escape its terrifyingly fast dive, and diving ducks, while built for horizontal speed and efficiency aren’t the most agile of birds in flight. As long as the ducks are on the water, they are safe from Peregrines, but in flight during the day, they are, well, sitting ducks.</p><p>Another bonus of my daily sunset vigils has been adding American Wigeon to my yard list. For several nights in a row, at least 10 minutes after the Lesser Scaup, when it’s much darker, I’ve been able to hear a flock of wigeon, and at least twice managed to spot the flock as they commuted in more or less the same direction. I presume these birds forage during the day at Delta Ponds and also move to roost on the reservoir. But this was a phenomenon that begun suddenly at the end of January and ended in early March. Why just then, and not earlier in the winter? Could these have been migrants and not locally wintering wigeon?</p><p>I’ve also started wondering how identifiable ducks are solely based on the whistle their wings make. There have been about five Common Goldeneye foraging on the Willamette River alongside the scaup, and I’m almost certain that I’ve heard them in flight when it’s been too dark to even see shapes; they have a very loud wing whistle, and I managed to get one pretty solid recording of them. I’ve determined that the scaup don’t have much of a wing whistle, but how distinctive is Common Goldeneye whistle? How does it differ from Hooded Merganser, or the obvious wing whistle in some dabblers, like Mallard and Wood Duck? Are the spectrograms of the wing whistles of each species diagnostic? My own sound library is lacking recordings of most of these, and while a Cornell compilation has an amazing recording of a Common Goldeneye whistle, it’s of a bird taking off, not one in mid-flight. The primary frequency and first harmonic of my recording match that one well, but it's not strong enough to show the higher harmonics nor the shape of each individual wing beat sound.</p><p>Incidentally, I’ve also noticed a pattern to the flight direction to many of the Double-crested Cormorants I see here. While a few seem to be clearly just commuting between the Willamette and Fern Ridge, a majority are off to the NE of my house by a few blocks, quite high, and headed in a NNW direction. I drew a line between the location on the Willamette where I frequently see numbers of them, just downstream from the Greenway Bridge, to the Junction City Fish Pond, which also is the only other place regionally where I see numbers of them. And bullseye – the line I draw between those two places on Google Earth falls exactly on the flight path where I see them. Curiously, this flight is almost exactly the same distance as what the ducks are doing.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGeIwaKw-mSlQsM84UYq84reGS9rM_91Kj4ayIauDuvlwpk7EW8XHMz0XavkFfZvG5TwGHib84DuHSzJMLk1hkPMwgepNbxjzOv2zXz8tTO7VRg_BbNtOnhgYmH1QS3soKwIoLT2lL0pI/s1000/Screen+Shot+2021-02-25+at+7.13.49+PM.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="733" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGeIwaKw-mSlQsM84UYq84reGS9rM_91Kj4ayIauDuvlwpk7EW8XHMz0XavkFfZvG5TwGHib84DuHSzJMLk1hkPMwgepNbxjzOv2zXz8tTO7VRg_BbNtOnhgYmH1QS3soKwIoLT2lL0pI/s320/Screen+Shot+2021-02-25+at+7.13.49+PM.png" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Presumed Double-crested Cormorant commute</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-71520257464131403762021-02-19T19:28:00.003-08:002021-02-19T20:47:26.235-08:00 A Willamette Riparian Jewel: Hileman Landing County Park<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaizkRP8iL6ovHTEZspJWE-7gtEAJd9fAHUEbxjnK1AGa0LnOxDXMk3Ji6Z9vY9nXVjumw6q-bZmZ3d4cPX-aaRKzuEJ5FuQbYyUuLrHKcXjBMV8B860Qm6twU_RMmcC8UZwnh-Gu7AO0/s1000/Hileman+Landing+Park+Scenery.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaizkRP8iL6ovHTEZspJWE-7gtEAJd9fAHUEbxjnK1AGa0LnOxDXMk3Ji6Z9vY9nXVjumw6q-bZmZ3d4cPX-aaRKzuEJ5FuQbYyUuLrHKcXjBMV8B860Qm6twU_RMmcC8UZwnh-Gu7AO0/s320/Hileman+Landing+Park+Scenery.jpeg" /></a></div><p>I’ve known about this park since shortly after I moved to Eugene, and though it’s only 30 minutes by bicycle from my front door, I only finally visited it weekend before last. My friend Thomas said it was his favorite birding spot in Eugene while he was a birder here in high school (he lived next door to where I am now, and his parents still do). I was even close several times this past year as I visited the delightful <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Small-is-Beautiful-Farmstand-1582710668653300">Small is Beautiful Farmstand</a> for their incredible selection of veggies, eggs, milk, flowers, and other goodies. I also rode right past it on a 40-mile biking trip with my friend Andrew Broan and two other friends last August. I even pointed it out to them as a well-known birding hotspot. Hileman Landing is the largest swath of undeveloped riparian habitat near the city of Eugene, on the west bank of the Willamette River. As an undeveloped, natural park, it’s not a place for disk golf, soccer, or such. Wear your rubber boots, be prepared to brush against stickers and thorns, and enjoy the nature. I was only five minutes from home when I realized I left my camera at home, oops. So this blog is populated with photos from my mobile phone.</p><p>This isn’t a truly natural area though, and we can only guess at what this place must have looked like just two hundred years ago. Through a mere century and a half of deforestation in the surrounding mountains as well as through prevention of fires and floods, European immigrants have upended the very nature of disturbance in nature. Where there wasn’t, there is now too much. Where there was once much disturbance is now much less. Then add to that the immense effect that introduced plants and animals have had, it is forever changed. In this photo you can see the main forest of cottonwoods isn’t old (they grow very fast), and the understory is dominated by introduced Himalayan Blackberry.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqGei8WosMVzP768Xbe8KHQOR5OcCHdK_AhW8C04LlGVOqhbJcUOS0E6AqDOtkIZuUx1I8RyX3wF8ky1sPj0uXRbR0bVniUoWomxFQaaxN8m03igy3_DppOpjMa47rA6D5KnweUlz59_w/s1000/Hileman+Landing+Park+Scenery+%25281%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqGei8WosMVzP768Xbe8KHQOR5OcCHdK_AhW8C04LlGVOqhbJcUOS0E6AqDOtkIZuUx1I8RyX3wF8ky1sPj0uXRbR0bVniUoWomxFQaaxN8m03igy3_DppOpjMa47rA6D5KnweUlz59_w/s320/Hileman+Landing+Park+Scenery+%25281%2529.jpeg" /></a></div><br />One source of disturbance that remains the same is that from the American Beaver. It’s amazing how they can chew through huge trunks. There probably aren’t as many of them now as in pre-settlement times, but there are more than some people would like.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIPPUjVHCSEqoII0sjIS9sKDMhPUKCXkldup_BIs4set5twVMesdbs_Vj84khoCB8yLeC9xyV0nJftsXGutQ5mM6nnwX1B17ONJD_62ICBzaoiZtZZupMMgKBJn0dbC7LnhU-wbq_OdaU/s1000/beaver+damage.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIPPUjVHCSEqoII0sjIS9sKDMhPUKCXkldup_BIs4set5twVMesdbs_Vj84khoCB8yLeC9xyV0nJftsXGutQ5mM6nnwX1B17ONJD_62ICBzaoiZtZZupMMgKBJn0dbC7LnhU-wbq_OdaU/s320/beaver+damage.jpeg" /></a></div><br />This wasn’t always a park though, and while some people consider things like this truck and these trestles to be historical markers, I think they are just old trash that should be removed.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzmh2a6ewySv2xw6G-4kpkfbwuy_x0RLn5qjnZf3wjQ6SeiifeUEFh2fYzG10QCwlOpkaTl7PeG7Ui8V0K1Plx9-JIy05e5EVeEA2K8rO4cdLN1OqIXdKlFQ4zTVXJLLQ4epevo2L_ZEU/s1000/Hileman+Landing+Park+Scenery+%25282%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzmh2a6ewySv2xw6G-4kpkfbwuy_x0RLn5qjnZf3wjQ6SeiifeUEFh2fYzG10QCwlOpkaTl7PeG7Ui8V0K1Plx9-JIy05e5EVeEA2K8rO4cdLN1OqIXdKlFQ4zTVXJLLQ4epevo2L_ZEU/s320/Hileman+Landing+Park+Scenery+%25282%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiferYQVnTg8c7pClf3Se_vMiYq0r6PTeo7MsvXP0mYls68JHEaj2tPnOxeKA2g5HimxGDxxr-G2RcJiYGJycNSec0JDzXV7Cw-837K7XDq7UyqWofUxTww_6tTFjasGsBmK_rMax9kizw/s1000/Hileman+Landing+Park+Scenery+%25283%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiferYQVnTg8c7pClf3Se_vMiYq0r6PTeo7MsvXP0mYls68JHEaj2tPnOxeKA2g5HimxGDxxr-G2RcJiYGJycNSec0JDzXV7Cw-837K7XDq7UyqWofUxTww_6tTFjasGsBmK_rMax9kizw/s320/Hileman+Landing+Park+Scenery+%25283%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p>Much of the park is actually along a small side-channel of the Willamette River, and with the current high water levels typical of this time of year, it was flowing fast and clear, giving me the impression that I was on a secluded wilderness river (if you ignore the trash that has floated down from Eugene and got caught in the driftwood). Black Phoebe was here.<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAXDYZ3iCndCneWmQ2kYGJCQjNk-awts6HnFuvRwGAr8hoN8G3UGn6dfMRILj6lRU2dNOz3LNJELsOzHIR6X0yqq2e4wJL2Z9UY-FlU9k-_V0vCKwz81ehjcg_qveQsuGEjvbJCWivODE/s1000/Hileman+Landing+Park+Scenery+%25285%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAXDYZ3iCndCneWmQ2kYGJCQjNk-awts6HnFuvRwGAr8hoN8G3UGn6dfMRILj6lRU2dNOz3LNJELsOzHIR6X0yqq2e4wJL2Z9UY-FlU9k-_V0vCKwz81ehjcg_qveQsuGEjvbJCWivODE/s320/Hileman+Landing+Park+Scenery+%25285%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzLD4psJgH8Vn8_RSJE9t01fFVfA4gz0K-VnI_fJd9HVtL8uK9gVFWuf2QaAln5hijhqpWBw0puy_RUuwfdzQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><div>I eventually emerged onto the banks of the main channel of the Willamette, and the gravel bar here had a roosting group of about 20 Killdeer (it seems to be little known that this bird is largely nocturnal – just think about it: what do you usually see Killdeer doing during the day? Actively foraging? Or just standing there? Their activity kind of reminds me of Burrowing Owls, actually.) I also saw a Spotted Sandpiper and heard a Greater Yellowlegs here.</div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-sp6UPvD6Ew-r-01qT3LnWfsjdOph1PeXyvxfWythI8-vJs6XWes0ZMJjyl-fVmwQsPc0sZzFBfB8nU7sn7CS59ir65sSGM2xNy20AqIBSABJUjz5Rt42g_IuVMMbw5AnhJ4pgRVlP7g/s1000/Hileman+Landing+Park+Scenery+%25284%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-sp6UPvD6Ew-r-01qT3LnWfsjdOph1PeXyvxfWythI8-vJs6XWes0ZMJjyl-fVmwQsPc0sZzFBfB8nU7sn7CS59ir65sSGM2xNy20AqIBSABJUjz5Rt42g_IuVMMbw5AnhJ4pgRVlP7g/s320/Hileman+Landing+Park+Scenery+%25284%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />One of the most exciting things I saw was our first true sign of spring – which in western Oregon begins in January and lasts through early June: the flowers of <i>Oemleria cerasiformis</i>, which I grew up knowing as Indian Plum and is now more commonly known as Osoberry. It’s a member of the rose family and the fruits are indeed edible. I have four that I planted in my yard, and I hope to have enough fruits to follow a recipe I found for jam made from our native Osoberry, Red-flowering Currant, and Oregon Grape. This is also a hummingbird plant, and here, miles from any feeders, were several territorial Anna’s Hummingbirds feeing on the Osoberry flowers, beating the first arriving Rufous Hummingbirds to the punch by a couple of weeks.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7StawuHRln3YRlucgBpfihJ8NJde_E6ZEmeIXgsC_a9eHK5jhXDQlxRY1xjsqpj4YgHUZyUFera6BSvAZrldXPg1oZG9QuXaZG9-W6I21tTLgzXXScgenwq_OTbNavLjC7Pl5Q8CSf3Y/s1000/Oemleria+cerasiformis.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7StawuHRln3YRlucgBpfihJ8NJde_E6ZEmeIXgsC_a9eHK5jhXDQlxRY1xjsqpj4YgHUZyUFera6BSvAZrldXPg1oZG9QuXaZG9-W6I21tTLgzXXScgenwq_OTbNavLjC7Pl5Q8CSf3Y/s320/Oemleria+cerasiformis.jpeg" /></a></div><br />This is the growing season for <i>Polypodium glycyrrhiza</i>, the Licorice-root Fern. I used to like the sweet, licorice flavor from chewing on the rhizomes, but I now don’t care for the lingering bitter aftertaste. My grandmother made a tea from the dried rhizomes.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLRpUypG-EJdebnONmad1Ynh6jnSFWQ3I_RlktN2QU2N3CTzb6Ot1E04CLgm8LnXfKSs7xaGq6bIHjEdRnQ18wGeXjXW9j7oVNSmqhLYPgRdvzyzMn9-MNqCWqqL-YPh0rGGeZ57wQxY0/s1000/Polypodium+glycyrrhiza.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLRpUypG-EJdebnONmad1Ynh6jnSFWQ3I_RlktN2QU2N3CTzb6Ot1E04CLgm8LnXfKSs7xaGq6bIHjEdRnQ18wGeXjXW9j7oVNSmqhLYPgRdvzyzMn9-MNqCWqqL-YPh0rGGeZ57wQxY0/s320/Polypodium+glycyrrhiza.jpeg" /></a></div><br />One of the banks rises quite a bit above the floodplain, and the few Douglas-firs here looked old enough to pre-date European colonists in the area. But I wonder if they are old enough to have been seen by the Native Americans before their populations were wiped out by introduced human diseases.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfeA2-c1O_yUHTbii29NFhC6SWbQHzvkJ1WNeAtaCvH38B7D1MFPPXsB-LA_AtVIsImWMfS_Qd33GCUhH4gtFg3OaXUZzitIFqiUsW-L_tEBveC7MnvgFV5uF54yQ_psQQ4lLDFUq6r4M/s1333/Pseudotsuga+menziesii.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1333" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfeA2-c1O_yUHTbii29NFhC6SWbQHzvkJ1WNeAtaCvH38B7D1MFPPXsB-LA_AtVIsImWMfS_Qd33GCUhH4gtFg3OaXUZzitIFqiUsW-L_tEBveC7MnvgFV5uF54yQ_psQQ4lLDFUq6r4M/s320/Pseudotsuga+menziesii.jpeg" /></a></div><br />This beautiful bracket fungus is <i>Rhodofomes cajanderi</i>, the Rosy Conk.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd-CBQnmuA8YCNy69sK4P8_shxG0QIS3ugOgdIaiFxnPCgcOiPjtgAyJDNG3wU4EJDLLNLqbfM8lKd-o3nqPfyW2_NOecxPhKiQBziW-X-h_8RYan_UstPtTtWkBKHcIOySU2xoUFr758/s1000/Rhodofomes+cajanderi.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="729" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd-CBQnmuA8YCNy69sK4P8_shxG0QIS3ugOgdIaiFxnPCgcOiPjtgAyJDNG3wU4EJDLLNLqbfM8lKd-o3nqPfyW2_NOecxPhKiQBziW-X-h_8RYan_UstPtTtWkBKHcIOySU2xoUFr758/s320/Rhodofomes+cajanderi.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFZUqJYMaGnhk3kgRiJDAoB-2R5ffFicB0Tqua0IB5c6pfpg0qtuVDsAFYfofJ0lXqLt78k1VtYBuL4H9OCyffZkgsO6NrFIpig3CZr62sqCnQ5oYNf9gMchmgDR4p2B1rhjQhLy-80kQ/s1000/Rhodofomes+cajanderi+%25281%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="550" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFZUqJYMaGnhk3kgRiJDAoB-2R5ffFicB0Tqua0IB5c6pfpg0qtuVDsAFYfofJ0lXqLt78k1VtYBuL4H9OCyffZkgsO6NrFIpig3CZr62sqCnQ5oYNf9gMchmgDR4p2B1rhjQhLy-80kQ/s320/Rhodofomes+cajanderi+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div></div><br />I look forward to coming back here as the spring progresses and migrant birds begin populating the air with their songs.<div><br /></div></div>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-4505970797143454752021-02-12T11:12:00.000-08:002021-02-12T11:12:33.749-08:00 A Murmuration of Ring-billed Gulls and Hybrid Ducks<p>This blog post is a bit out-of-date, but I’m still gobsmacked every time I watch my short video. Monday, January 11 was my last day with a rental car, so I decided to explore the Willamette Valley of north-central Lane County and the Willamette River landing parks north to the Linn and Benton County borders. I was just into Linn County, south of Harrisburg when I spied a field full of gulls. I was about to start sifting through them to ID them all when they took off and appeared to be avoiding a predator. They formed a murmuration, which until now I had only seen in European Starlings, Dunlin, and Yellow-headed Blackbirds. When they finally landed again, I determined that they were at least 90% Ring-billed Gull, the rest Mew Gull, and the total came to about 3700 birds. I posted this video to Facebook and it also seemed to surprise a lot of my birding friends that gulls would do this.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglR2GAwERPctSmjD-vreMzX0Ci5_gN1tDWq32M3XYrpVL_fIR_WxVlkqGgY0r5albMaSlewWikfPA_2zDnjPOJE5WODYdFlxc3V5YCbE6NdS2STcJcQ8LaOXYPvLIzod189sI2mGBA5QY/s1000/Ring-billed+Gulls.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglR2GAwERPctSmjD-vreMzX0Ci5_gN1tDWq32M3XYrpVL_fIR_WxVlkqGgY0r5albMaSlewWikfPA_2zDnjPOJE5WODYdFlxc3V5YCbE6NdS2STcJcQ8LaOXYPvLIzod189sI2mGBA5QY/s320/Ring-billed+Gulls.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzo928U6cm2FWqmtrsAP74UX_jDX0qGdpP7r9DNm-b7MJYGHBxjJcAPHx2cXroygA73yLRjz6-tUgkE5pduXA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Back on the west side of the river, I stopped to check Brown Landing park, where I found this Orange-crowned Warbler, the fourth one I’d seen this year so far. It seems to be a very good winter for this species, most wintering well south of us.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh22HIdWuVoj7ecbDo0d1HrdpBr3SIH7m9YJEpB8wDFrHiRqhxp7-u3JnGz_BhB1Op1mAFepzO89nDNMZ29SOQZlztwL34re5a8NAqFR2Prbleb486aa2EAdJdJ_he4td7h2YvNACZWfao/s1000/Orange-crowned+Warbler.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="595" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh22HIdWuVoj7ecbDo0d1HrdpBr3SIH7m9YJEpB8wDFrHiRqhxp7-u3JnGz_BhB1Op1mAFepzO89nDNMZ29SOQZlztwL34re5a8NAqFR2Prbleb486aa2EAdJdJ_he4td7h2YvNACZWfao/s320/Orange-crowned+Warbler.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I also stopped to check a wetland west of Junction City that seems to be a private duck reserve. It’s basically a flooded field full of Northern Pintail, and the hedgerow along the ditch makes it nearly impossible to see into. So some of my birding was right along the road where I saw this Swamp Sparrow and heard a second one, a rare species in much of Oregon.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgskWfybO8a448eOriZwbjUX3Zmk1t3LCg500ldJN1BcKwFf42hfhHsasc7caU_4LcyCQb1gY-nxoZtCIYPy0fg3xbr_vHGxObWCTyd__W_Emhp7HQEF8xb-aCz_bgBDHe9b_Au4BexoXc/s1000/Swamp+Sparrow.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="741" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgskWfybO8a448eOriZwbjUX3Zmk1t3LCg500ldJN1BcKwFf42hfhHsasc7caU_4LcyCQb1gY-nxoZtCIYPy0fg3xbr_vHGxObWCTyd__W_Emhp7HQEF8xb-aCz_bgBDHe9b_Au4BexoXc/s320/Swamp+Sparrow.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Much more cooperative was this Marsh Wren.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghTUUpPASLOAV8JzsSGDMJ_OzrbWfFhQXbTWlhdSf3aS9-70x39uiAseBX8_9lWZ7OBBfRDq-5V-aKhdHg1_mjvHxDNsny6gkk-HiMk6rhdDByOfTsv64U07L5GhDS2gANI4KOAybQ2NM/s1000/Marsh+Wren.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghTUUpPASLOAV8JzsSGDMJ_OzrbWfFhQXbTWlhdSf3aS9-70x39uiAseBX8_9lWZ7OBBfRDq-5V-aKhdHg1_mjvHxDNsny6gkk-HiMk6rhdDByOfTsv64U07L5GhDS2gANI4KOAybQ2NM/s320/Marsh+Wren.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />At one of the very few spots I could peer over the bushes and see the pond, I found this strange duck that appears to be an American Wigeon x Mallard hybrid.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjunlSaEDIvQTX3V0j6DiWAKvAdHvkPKCKJUeFuQcjD4xEbDl0Kmbz31PYFGllIe0nzyKDbNqQxv89QUdjyjPAHeUwNA45Yw5mIJBUx3yWji1VRqsJ2v1DArJUzBobDnSKcuiAt9okQz9Q/s1000/American+Wigeon+x+Mallard+hybrid.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="538" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjunlSaEDIvQTX3V0j6DiWAKvAdHvkPKCKJUeFuQcjD4xEbDl0Kmbz31PYFGllIe0nzyKDbNqQxv89QUdjyjPAHeUwNA45Yw5mIJBUx3yWji1VRqsJ2v1DArJUzBobDnSKcuiAt9okQz9Q/s320/American+Wigeon+x+Mallard+hybrid.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Just three days later, I biked to another flooded field with large numbers of ducks just 20 minutes northwest of me and found another hybrid duck. This one is clearly at least half Green-winged Teal, and the other parent (or perhaps a grandparent) is probably Northern Pintail. I know I’ve seen a few hybrid ducks before (though I have none in my photo library), but I don’t exactly remember ever finding one, let alone two in one week.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD42ZGUDC_egaKo9R6veOlbBWeTXK7h4LYITOKFkuaFP9DdBQVcd25ubDKlsrWuz_7YXUwE6p2dTNb1MbHZT1a1JGNACfOYJKj8VxXfo1Pffv4UjKBDmy87pz-dnIMx2XusLhBcILdjcs/s527/Green-winged+Teal+Hybrid.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="408" data-original-width="527" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD42ZGUDC_egaKo9R6veOlbBWeTXK7h4LYITOKFkuaFP9DdBQVcd25ubDKlsrWuz_7YXUwE6p2dTNb1MbHZT1a1JGNACfOYJKj8VxXfo1Pffv4UjKBDmy87pz-dnIMx2XusLhBcILdjcs/s320/Green-winged+Teal+Hybrid.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-15082328709108593402021-01-29T11:09:00.002-08:002021-01-29T11:09:58.766-08:00A Bird In A Gilded Cage<p>This week I auditioned to join the Eugene Gay Men’s Chorus. My tour guiding schedule has prevented me from joining any chorus for the past decade. In the late 90’s and early aughts I still hadn’t built up a docket of tours to be truly full-time, and so I could sing with Tucson’s Reveille Gay Men’s Chorus and also was part of a very informal English madrigal group with 4-5 friends. We called ourselves the Kinglet Singers, as half of us were birders. What fun we had over those years, including two weekend camping retreats.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxiUVlnDGtxDYuw5h07b1jMhidBHbiSKCvcwVQZOSgfifP4uvU1or8yTgwPdhhYWA7ccjEBn-tqwDP0VHU0KLhwaTWkr0TPXhFHvcEZVWeClJk-em2Ni1wswdbuKle8-vLo9wr7hVjci4/s1000/Madrigal+Campout.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxiUVlnDGtxDYuw5h07b1jMhidBHbiSKCvcwVQZOSgfifP4uvU1or8yTgwPdhhYWA7ccjEBn-tqwDP0VHU0KLhwaTWkr0TPXhFHvcEZVWeClJk-em2Ni1wswdbuKle8-vLo9wr7hVjci4/s320/Madrigal+Campout.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>While the pandemic has now given me the time once again to enrich my life with making music in a group, it’s also prevented such groups from gathering in person. Like so many others, EGMC has continued its existence with Zoom meetings and performances, so I thought it was better than nothing. Maybe we’ll be able to meet in person before my guiding schedule becomes too crazy. A fortuitous coincidence is that the church where they rehearse and usually perform is exactly two blocks from my house. I imagine afterglow parties at my house becoming a tradition in the distant future.</p><p>In any event, Evan Miles, the director, held auditions this week, adding four newbies to the chorus. It wasn’t a rigorous audition, mostly to figure out how to place us, and nearly anyone can join (I suppose unless you’re utterly tone deaf). But he did request that we prepare a short piece to sing a capella for him. Yikes! For a few days, I just assumed I would sing Happy Birthday or Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. I’ve probably memorized 50 pieces of music over the years, but only the baritone or tenor parts – I just don’t sing solo. Then the day before the audition it occurred to me that I have reams of ancient sheet music from the first half of the 20th century, and the first thing I grabbed out of the box was this 1985 issue of Sheet Music magazine, one of a stack given to me by the music teacher my freshman year of high school in Upper Lake, California (1984-85). She admitted I played piano better than she did, and I ended up being the accompanist for our high school choir that second semester (the band teacher quit, so we no longer had a band, and choir was the only option).</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3plwPytp9IOC7ik8i6BpQscro8gdtpc17hNJEFHdRJOQ7Bgy4hbwkk9bVhM6n4Xdoj4rOBLDaoQTf8k0vyybcCNGKNaWew2w-grtd2mQ2ETZB7OvUq22BHCnmnedzqRccDyP_-YRpMvQ/s1000/Sheet+Music+Magazine.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3plwPytp9IOC7ik8i6BpQscro8gdtpc17hNJEFHdRJOQ7Bgy4hbwkk9bVhM6n4Xdoj4rOBLDaoQTf8k0vyybcCNGKNaWew2w-grtd2mQ2ETZB7OvUq22BHCnmnedzqRccDyP_-YRpMvQ/s320/Sheet+Music+Magazine.JPG" /></a></div><p>I opened it up to the middle, and the first song was simple and just the right length, and now I’ve memorized one more song that will be my audition piece, should I ever need one, for the next decades.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxW1kbPlUjAVAUpcvegNRnqQX4OcGNLkyb7sK_rphjSA1LwQBTSA-AkPtuAOR1TGcfnjBP9MLMTfkdgnb6q5w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><div><br /></div>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-48147291147991898502021-01-13T06:00:00.001-08:002021-01-13T06:00:05.519-08:00 The Christmas Bird Count season ended January 5th. But wait – there’s one more!<p>Pleasant Hill Proto-CBC – January 10, 2021</p><p>This past weekend, at personal request, several teams of some 15-20 birders helped Alan Contreras test a new CBC circle he is considering proposing to National Audubon. Just to the southeast of the very old Eugene circle, this new one is centered about 1.5 miles southeast of the town of Jasper on the Willamette River, and extends from the eastern suburbs of Springfield in the NW to Dexter reservoir in the SE.</p><p>Anyone can start a CBC circle, joining the more than 2600 circles that contribute to the database of early winter bird records. Last year, 23 new counts were held across the country (and another 17 elsewhere). But there are rules, and it takes time to get a circle officially approved. Your new circle can’t overlap with existing ones, for example. You have to show that you’ll be able to guarantee a certain number of participants in the reasonable future and will carry out the duties of compiler as well. And you obviously have to know the entire circle well enough to be able to create team sectors and make sure the circle has enough interesting habitats and bird species to make it worthwhile for everyone. These are the reasons it makes sense to a hold a trial count in a proposed circle, and to avoid conflicting with established circles, having it outside the official CBC window of December 14 to January 5 makes sense. A trial run might discover an incredible bit of habitat that lies just outside the circle, in which case the circle can be adjusted before it becomes official. Alan probably hopes that this year’s participants will offer critical pointers on how well the proposed sector boundaries worked and what changes might work better.</p><p>Here’s a summary of my day with my mostly bad photos, as winter light in Oregon isn’t the best for distant and backlit birds. But at least it documents what I’ve been up to.</p><p>My area was the southeastern-most sector, including all but the uppermost stretches of Dexter Reservoir and about a half-mile of the Middle Fork Willamette downstream from the dam. I also had the little town of Dexter and all the side roads south of it to the circle boundary. A state park right at the dam was a good place to start. Some of the best access to riparian habitats is below the dam, but the deep water right above the dam is usually bird-free. The maintained lawns where I parked had a flock of about 7 flickers, and at least two among them were Red-shafted x Yellow-shafted intergrade males. The abundance of such intergrades in western Oregon in winter is a good sign that it’s not likely they’ll ever be split.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg04O10sreOZbu4b2_AIfiJFutm3dMOcyrCUHwCDkr-4jzjqQdmUjb2WS_9AgLXwhJ-QGIFPbjI-jXQFLJ4RoNcDifxUn3cAPz-643geZEnHyi5O9Agg30F2h6sWxZWyGDLa4kG0YZojAw/s925/Northern+Flicker+%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="764" data-original-width="925" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg04O10sreOZbu4b2_AIfiJFutm3dMOcyrCUHwCDkr-4jzjqQdmUjb2WS_9AgLXwhJ-QGIFPbjI-jXQFLJ4RoNcDifxUn3cAPz-643geZEnHyi5O9Agg30F2h6sWxZWyGDLa4kG0YZojAw/s320/Northern+Flicker+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLzknqK115cntky0PwcYRTP3ERJdBQrpoZSOFHmIjDzIuaA6e7klDK7GV9HkkcQZudox9oD4nc_lU42vj_B28vZdDcNFY8XuujufOsndNVTy5HMWzyJ2yonUM9k1o3-AhusXryx1FiQKc/s1000/Northern+Flicker.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="985" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLzknqK115cntky0PwcYRTP3ERJdBQrpoZSOFHmIjDzIuaA6e7klDK7GV9HkkcQZudox9oD4nc_lU42vj_B28vZdDcNFY8XuujufOsndNVTy5HMWzyJ2yonUM9k1o3-AhusXryx1FiQKc/s320/Northern+Flicker.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>I hiked about a quarter mile below the dam to find five Barrow's Goldeneyes in the swift current but well away from the hypernitrogenous zone immediately below the spillway. I also had an Osprey here, scarce in the winter this far north.<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaVm1JMW_5wVbZAsWAkoKBtyre_mc13kNLriJ97Wd8eTMTKfUrVQTQi9yHCc_xjZqK9Hm5txZHWuznFRly_dLm_ki718M-JZPIvuChgFI65qGYg-vqHj_xMRlLc45PVnjTlycNQPGMfKE/s1000/Barrow%2527s+Goldeneye.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="250" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaVm1JMW_5wVbZAsWAkoKBtyre_mc13kNLriJ97Wd8eTMTKfUrVQTQi9yHCc_xjZqK9Hm5txZHWuznFRly_dLm_ki718M-JZPIvuChgFI65qGYg-vqHj_xMRlLc45PVnjTlycNQPGMfKE/s320/Barrow%2527s+Goldeneye.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The shallower, upper half of Dexter Reservoir is home to hundreds of wintering American Coots, and I counted 2020 total. (I probably missed a few.) Mixed in with them are many scaup of both species, Ring-necked Duck, and Bufflehead with a very few Ruddy Ducks and Canvasback.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi8-9jI1s-IAd2Ts6yRMRmKb23VrzpeXrnOSmOY9Kx2Pow3wyS9n11yVajE2hdtX5gLCE1r3HOnNsCxhGZ8A406QYRcO04H2Hwh1mteKE7j4t8sJ9E6nn1OVXGor-4suN0_dr-qNd7Y9o/s1000/American+Coots.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="286" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi8-9jI1s-IAd2Ts6yRMRmKb23VrzpeXrnOSmOY9Kx2Pow3wyS9n11yVajE2hdtX5gLCE1r3HOnNsCxhGZ8A406QYRcO04H2Hwh1mteKE7j4t8sJ9E6nn1OVXGor-4suN0_dr-qNd7Y9o/s320/American+Coots.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />One task for this sector is to carefully scope through these flocks for rare ducks and check the open water for unusual grebes, loons, or other water birds. I found no rare ducks (a Tufted or Redhead would be good), but this Red-necked Grebe was possibly the rarest bird in my area, with maybe four previous winter records for the reservoir, but I actually found it while scouting here last week. It’s always good to have stakeouts.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBorq9PrcS0lNQA6LNZLUs9SkuRKBzqNveV157UJiW4gfgjU4d_CGXRoBHRvZkwieIEZEI23QcZ_JCntqk83s9kQf0s4OcBWXNjrSWfTqjoReEGs7PoDGMA6xG1GYqTw6ceSiNkBH4BwU/s462/Red-necked+Grebe.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="288" data-original-width="462" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBorq9PrcS0lNQA6LNZLUs9SkuRKBzqNveV157UJiW4gfgjU4d_CGXRoBHRvZkwieIEZEI23QcZ_JCntqk83s9kQf0s4OcBWXNjrSWfTqjoReEGs7PoDGMA6xG1GYqTw6ceSiNkBH4BwU/s320/Red-necked+Grebe.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Eared Grebe was new find by me during the day, but it’s not quite as rare as the Red-necked. It was very distant and a small bird, so the photos are barely useful to document it. (Horned Grebe is rather similar and far more common here.)</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs7_3K1uDJcOD9J8hNVxEnzEhaCo3s_IvDKDLdE095obVaz5dSrBxl3ZQwETbQqVinQAdxt99SYOgsQpZf8KGPXeb-x3GW7LR8retYeNUM4yv_vcvbNLd8aOj2pkefKUcK6nFZ6gkCD1I/s460/Eared+Grebe+%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="351" data-original-width="460" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs7_3K1uDJcOD9J8hNVxEnzEhaCo3s_IvDKDLdE095obVaz5dSrBxl3ZQwETbQqVinQAdxt99SYOgsQpZf8KGPXeb-x3GW7LR8retYeNUM4yv_vcvbNLd8aOj2pkefKUcK6nFZ6gkCD1I/s320/Eared+Grebe+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />This Western Gull was also an unexpected bird inland, as they rarely leave the coast, even in winter. A little black smudge by the red spot on its bill tells me that it may not be 100% mature, perhaps in its 4th winter, and that might explain grayish grizzling on the head and breast. However, this latter feature might mean that it has some Glaucous-winged Gull in its heritage, though the dark back and black (not just dark gray) wingtips indicate that it’s not an F1 hybrid.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgESDH7kwgwqSssPlH4zWTwaPlKfI23NqrhyphenhyphenXHkSHJBtL0-Wu-gyxGNYqaFNgfu2M1WmPK45Os3I2F_ASIhXs73wyU614BJ-xfxzzLvc39TPX5QLnTOFAjaZrSRCTbejs8OmiVp0HGQgxQ/s916/Western+Gull.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="725" data-original-width="916" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgESDH7kwgwqSssPlH4zWTwaPlKfI23NqrhyphenhyphenXHkSHJBtL0-Wu-gyxGNYqaFNgfu2M1WmPK45Os3I2F_ASIhXs73wyU614BJ-xfxzzLvc39TPX5QLnTOFAjaZrSRCTbejs8OmiVp0HGQgxQ/s320/Western+Gull.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I was pleased to learn that the entire northern shore of the reservoir upstream from the town of Lowell is open public access, and most of it is good habitat. English Ivy is a bad invasive exotic here that should be removed, however. I was exploring right near the edge of the circle when I hiked to the edge of the water and took this photo looking NE, upstream. The foreground marsh and near water is in the circle while the line of trees directly over the first patch of water is outside. Amazingly, all of those rafts of ducks and coots were well within the circle, while the uppermost piece of the reservoir and short outflow from the very close Lookout Point Reservoir are apparently not of much interest to birds.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjto6aQwNdJCMnim8qUs96YxQnm28WovIqeYECBWggz8PdXnGtUImwFIrZvZnJZkPaOiUl1NXgxQYJXCCA5LK_kyCj7tzxAGDAwc7I8x0z0PgQIa8A1D0fO7QsCmCcJTQBIsKrzLtLO_j4/s1000/Upper+Dexter+Reservoir.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjto6aQwNdJCMnim8qUs96YxQnm28WovIqeYECBWggz8PdXnGtUImwFIrZvZnJZkPaOiUl1NXgxQYJXCCA5LK_kyCj7tzxAGDAwc7I8x0z0PgQIa8A1D0fO7QsCmCcJTQBIsKrzLtLO_j4/s320/Upper+Dexter+Reservoir.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Yet another rare bird at this spot was this Mountain Chickadee, my second one this winter out of range. There have been only three others found in western Oregon and Washington this winter, which is about average, nothing like the big irruption of 2015-16 when there were dozens.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAoKNL9JDFoF893v4hZBioCFIr-CP73o5ykc7YFnc64Bl30qwPA8jaYiaZrvOjWgFAOmsjXXsCq_j-fPN5Beuema4nAsHWMxv4lBZkX42O7h3hv2hfY6es7RQsoyGBk3hRbITNG57Q04k/s1000/Mountain+Chickadee.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="616" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAoKNL9JDFoF893v4hZBioCFIr-CP73o5ykc7YFnc64Bl30qwPA8jaYiaZrvOjWgFAOmsjXXsCq_j-fPN5Beuema4nAsHWMxv4lBZkX42O7h3hv2hfY6es7RQsoyGBk3hRbITNG57Q04k/s320/Mountain+Chickadee.jpeg" /></a></div><br />After I was back in the car and finishing up my eBird list, I looked out and saw a flock of large birds overhead. I jumped out and was amazed to see these 12 swans flying high in a southeasterly direction. They were clearly headed towards the Willamette Pass of the Cascades, and the from there, I’d guess to either to the Summer Lake Wildlife Area or the Klamath Basin wildlife refuges. My photos seem to show a more slender bill indicating Tundra Swan, but from what we know about swan migratory patterns here, these can be safely assumed to be that species.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpElWriBENZS31JxFoNt0ff5-1RjXHT7VjUaEFhczd0QBJJeIG-HWIZlsgFS94-sPJ7m_v2p-QHaXIYY6SLP_ITfctgD__OL6rg8dVWR9Aux_NUdi5i2RnVn4Gf1Poq6K7nyZIF4lbfnU/s1000/Tundra+Swan+%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="273" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpElWriBENZS31JxFoNt0ff5-1RjXHT7VjUaEFhczd0QBJJeIG-HWIZlsgFS94-sPJ7m_v2p-QHaXIYY6SLP_ITfctgD__OL6rg8dVWR9Aux_NUdi5i2RnVn4Gf1Poq6K7nyZIF4lbfnU/s320/Tundra+Swan+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW2YSYs9g4r5v4i5mP9D-Osy8oq0ncfZle31Wk96dYyb9BzLBX2WBgqEakIrYVPMOVTf9Ti8uh3NFMLOc685Y3RoaBxONWsATfgcNtp0FHTakfPH6_n9ByZ5i0F3tSkoXni5OrqwHWRg8/s451/Tundra+Swan.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="451" data-original-width="417" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW2YSYs9g4r5v4i5mP9D-Osy8oq0ncfZle31Wk96dYyb9BzLBX2WBgqEakIrYVPMOVTf9Ti8uh3NFMLOc685Y3RoaBxONWsATfgcNtp0FHTakfPH6_n9ByZ5i0F3tSkoXni5OrqwHWRg8/s320/Tundra+Swan.jpeg" /></a></div><br />If you read my last blog, from the Eugene CBC, you’ll remember I had four Trumpeter Swans in flight on January 3, headed south. At the Zoom meeting we held for this new CBC, we learned that Tom Mickel, who covered the limited-access Willamette Confluence Preserve of The Nature Conservancy, had 16 swans: Four Trumpeters and 12 Tundras, and he actually saw the Tundra Swans pick up and fly away off to the SE. I’ve never been to that preserve, but I’ve seen the swans that like to use it!<p>Near the end of the afternoon I did a bit of exploring around the town of Lowell where I was hoping to find some access to the former oak savannah habitat now growing over to thickets of younger Oregon White Oak and in places showing the inevitable succession to Douglas-fir forest. The powerline right-of-way north of the town turns out to be Seneca Jones Timber Company property with public access, at least on foot, and it goes right through this habitat. I had some very nice mixed flocks of kinglets, chickadees, nuthatches, creepers, Hutton’s Vireo, and woodpeckers here.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpSbO0p2BGDCtjC10EfXQcZqWlorCvSzWMDPwT-MVboAVt74UE4d_umNWpe7HPr1nEgWuRfqZ3Mqs9I9oUg1bTh8EUV_oGeDWAfE1zvRENxs4AVV22WBOrI_3hFtNUyu2VNto1N-vdKXQ/s1000/Seneca+Forest+Powerline+Right-of-way.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpSbO0p2BGDCtjC10EfXQcZqWlorCvSzWMDPwT-MVboAVt74UE4d_umNWpe7HPr1nEgWuRfqZ3Mqs9I9oUg1bTh8EUV_oGeDWAfE1zvRENxs4AVV22WBOrI_3hFtNUyu2VNto1N-vdKXQ/s320/Seneca+Forest+Powerline+Right-of-way.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Keep an eye out for the announcement of this new CBC circle for the 2021-22 season!<p></p><div><br /></div></div>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-33583373076641641392021-01-10T06:00:00.001-08:002021-01-10T06:00:09.013-08:00Eugene Christmas Bird Count, January 3, 2021<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiExWOW_f3kUSeoSvgTWR5tFMQUQ98tgaIzpqOb2dyXcrQ8ITGCng2d18JPyvuES4up5KmOwG7GNcjoBpTeU5-ZzyjbUVuBNxs83dCtlra8AYgD_DcTsz52irocMfXKdEjSzPHw8b61cL8/s1000/Spotted+Towhee.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="840" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiExWOW_f3kUSeoSvgTWR5tFMQUQ98tgaIzpqOb2dyXcrQ8ITGCng2d18JPyvuES4up5KmOwG7GNcjoBpTeU5-ZzyjbUVuBNxs83dCtlra8AYgD_DcTsz52irocMfXKdEjSzPHw8b61cL8/s320/Spotted+Towhee.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The Eugene CBC is now my “home count,” as I live just 2.3 miles from the circle center (a CBC circle is 7.5 miles in radius). Last year I was in Brazil, so I missed it during my first winter in this house. It always gets the most participants of any circle in the state, including a huge number of feeder watchers, and ranks high nationally as well. This year, despite the pandemic, the organizers still managed to have 140 people in the field and 119 counting at their home feeders, the latter a record by 8, which is not surprising during this pandemic winter.<p></p><p>The rules regarding CBC conduct during the pandemic meant that I got an area to cover by myself, which was actually a good thing this year, as I didn’t really know it well and wouldn’t have known how to divide and delegate had I been given a larger group. I probably spotted some birds only because I was on my own but am also quite confident that I missed even more. You always see more with more eyes watching in all directions – everyone also has their own, unique pattern-spotting abilities and search images. I missed Peregrine Falcon, Merlin, Cooper’s Hawk, and Red-shouldered Hawk, for example, and I wouldn’t be surprised if all of these species saw me.</p><p>Having said, that I enjoyed the spontaneity of deciding where I would linger, when I would continue, which side road I might turn down at the very last second, and being able to get around by bike. All of those would have been more difficult with a group. </p><p>The Spotted Towhee at the top was one of 87 that I had during the day. Yes, I had a lot of blackberry thickets to pish at, and I pished a lot. How about 197 Song Sparrows, 110 Fox Sparrows, and 53 Bewick’s Wrens? 83 species and 2878 individuals were the grand tally from my area, making it the most diverse on the CBC.</p><p>My first bird of the day was actually a Western Screech-Owl at a park just ½ mile south of my house, one that I had seduced into calling in broad daylight during eBird’s October Big Day. It was in the same trees pre-dawn this morning after coffee #1, and soon I was back home for breakfast and coffee #2. One of the first songbirds I had shortly after sunrise though was this Swamp Sparrow that I had found over three weeks ago just barely into my CBC sector, exactly 1.8 miles and 10 minutes from my house, mostly by bike path. To give you an idea of how good the bicycle path system is here in Eugene, to get to this location by car would be a 4.2-mile, 10-minute drive, followed by a 4-minute walk.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNoXL0b27GR-5nzPoaDWW-ynw3wwkOmtwhemrtPGpArLdcrzNDQwFova1JyXaz0-ILrn2HtVPawVqhBnZwMsDeQg2chng1n0Hr2s7xaBIltLRkGR_fQmSAxxOsufwuT2qSv4Vyx1A8SUg/s1000/Swamp+Sparrow.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="714" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNoXL0b27GR-5nzPoaDWW-ynw3wwkOmtwhemrtPGpArLdcrzNDQwFova1JyXaz0-ILrn2HtVPawVqhBnZwMsDeQg2chng1n0Hr2s7xaBIltLRkGR_fQmSAxxOsufwuT2qSv4Vyx1A8SUg/s320/Swamp+Sparrow.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The best birding in the area I was assigned lies on the east bank of the Willamette River and west of Delta Highway and continues north from the Beltline Highway to the Mackenzie River, including special permission to bird private gravel pits right up to the confluence of those now very swollen rivers. I also have all of suburbia east to I-5, but it’s not as rich in habitat or birds. I had a mix of older stands of cottonwood and younger thickets of willow and alder, but also some grassy fields and tons of blackberry thickets. My big species list of 83 benefitted from a good diversity of ducks on three main gravel pits (as well as one grebe, cormorant, heron, and coot species each), and a spotting scope was necessary as some ponds were big and I couldn’t safely get very close to this most of this one.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUdfeiLDnEmgo4Z0txHX2niPE20Y5RDhOTQTtOvyPJwM38Qla4Q3pQP0v5aX-pWxwx6wxsEOCUVl0XNKPaniLwgAlSaa5hcfJfgLBYvBfkmkVtQ7QUmxNXWx_xtZamWbd0I_gflGU1crQ/s1000/RiverBend+North+Pit+Scenery+%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUdfeiLDnEmgo4Z0txHX2niPE20Y5RDhOTQTtOvyPJwM38Qla4Q3pQP0v5aX-pWxwx6wxsEOCUVl0XNKPaniLwgAlSaa5hcfJfgLBYvBfkmkVtQ7QUmxNXWx_xtZamWbd0I_gflGU1crQ/s320/RiverBend+North+Pit+Scenery+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />This is the Mackenzie River just east of its mouth.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFS0ncK5DzykgfLd07YVsht-SQVSwxDw8HQaRik6eyr6SsudOF0n5dTuBQFosJog7JY0dTbqa5y2ZySfVPncprYfys-tkV3at8WQRN240gSAuz-9DhRYomb3cb9XbCaqwZEHbLM7-uLcI/s1000/Lower+Mackenzie+River+at+RiverBend+North+Pit.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFS0ncK5DzykgfLd07YVsht-SQVSwxDw8HQaRik6eyr6SsudOF0n5dTuBQFosJog7JY0dTbqa5y2ZySfVPncprYfys-tkV3at8WQRN240gSAuz-9DhRYomb3cb9XbCaqwZEHbLM7-uLcI/s320/Lower+Mackenzie+River+at+RiverBend+North+Pit.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Here’s my bike by a field that had a Western Meadowlark, several Lincoln’s Sparrows, and a Wilson’s Snipe. Note my tripod sticking out of the pannier.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXdm_Dod_KK8u51RHScKPL1zMMLu6KZq9hPPozgiWgiaK_e5OKYdG5uS_VgJDCAMIDTD3fCYCl0K_6lbQFjZL2JiJf1ozfuNQVsqZCk9bkkLIarRD6SQi43tgufl_SNCyMNZQvFq-7uw0/s1000/RiverBend+North+Pit+Scenery.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXdm_Dod_KK8u51RHScKPL1zMMLu6KZq9hPPozgiWgiaK_e5OKYdG5uS_VgJDCAMIDTD3fCYCl0K_6lbQFjZL2JiJf1ozfuNQVsqZCk9bkkLIarRD6SQi43tgufl_SNCyMNZQvFq-7uw0/s320/RiverBend+North+Pit+Scenery.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Even though my tendency to rely too much on my ears had me missing some raptors, Red-tailed Hawks are too common to ignore. It’s courtship time already in January here in mild western Oregon, as evidenced by these lovebirds.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFd65Grp7W6r3RkFfr9FaLxZaInc1GfEk3yCppcj7_poc_u5OwwZR2Flx3wT6Gosn8ReCteGaEGFY9U5YN8E0MqgnoRTD0-37PwYXCTKmDRReh91TXPORUFn3ao-voYxyBJIG2ut9-GiE/s608/Red-tailed+Hawk.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="608" data-original-width="529" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFd65Grp7W6r3RkFfr9FaLxZaInc1GfEk3yCppcj7_poc_u5OwwZR2Flx3wT6Gosn8ReCteGaEGFY9U5YN8E0MqgnoRTD0-37PwYXCTKmDRReh91TXPORUFn3ao-voYxyBJIG2ut9-GiE/s320/Red-tailed+Hawk.jpeg" /></a></div><br />The riparian woods had plenty of Downy Woodpeckers, and this year’s CBC had a record number. I had 14, contributing to the count’s amazing total of 180 (which pales to the numbers found on eastern US counts, but it’s a lot for here).<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7EukucfecrtkHX_Mclm-J32PHpFiiOZMr-BdgZ1pilS_s3kJa1K_Oatp-AqVpzIQNxs1UC4clrPvbgpUs747DldoZ1SiscAIlKbVwkCye9vsbySaNDlRm0jR8KbyP_XBOovywYy_KMeE/s1000/Downy+Woodpecker.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="625" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7EukucfecrtkHX_Mclm-J32PHpFiiOZMr-BdgZ1pilS_s3kJa1K_Oatp-AqVpzIQNxs1UC4clrPvbgpUs747DldoZ1SiscAIlKbVwkCye9vsbySaNDlRm0jR8KbyP_XBOovywYy_KMeE/s320/Downy+Woodpecker.jpeg" /></a></div><br />House Finch is common bird here that we don’t really pay too much attention to, but I rarely have such a nicely colored male perch in good sunlight.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjsL3Z0q9hgqpMwatayGdoJcAOjCl2igrY-34OEU4OuPcTMtkJFUKMXMkicXpu76TBI9F3NLnaN1cogQGRKIo2jOCFc6ZEg-dE115N6hHo-FDg3m2KXYbfghkQEesi1YXyAfhLbrfGlKE/s1000/House+Finch.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="767" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjsL3Z0q9hgqpMwatayGdoJcAOjCl2igrY-34OEU4OuPcTMtkJFUKMXMkicXpu76TBI9F3NLnaN1cogQGRKIo2jOCFc6ZEg-dE115N6hHo-FDg3m2KXYbfghkQEesi1YXyAfhLbrfGlKE/s320/House+Finch.jpeg" /></a></div><p></p><p>I did not have what you would call typical Wrentit habitat, but the dense, non-native blackberries along the Willamette River are continuous for miles in some areas, and in recent decades they have expanded their range into this habitat. Learn to whistle like their song, and you’ll find they are very gullible and come right out. Since discovering that I no longer use recordings to find them.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjISTp_AaCzvMvB9Yj1eCi7du_aAY1ji3NP8JNGCObaCockwrf4fMYVP7rQdZlAQfRXVjaMdNGT2qBhSZqcmdw71BI4IB9y0GITFpyNXEPvyavQ9g_993WUuZW-3AdbrR1QJzu94_CN0QQ/s1000/Wrentit.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjISTp_AaCzvMvB9Yj1eCi7du_aAY1ji3NP8JNGCObaCockwrf4fMYVP7rQdZlAQfRXVjaMdNGT2qBhSZqcmdw71BI4IB9y0GITFpyNXEPvyavQ9g_993WUuZW-3AdbrR1QJzu94_CN0QQ/s320/Wrentit.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I found two Orange-crowned Warblers, one palling around with a flock of Bushtits, and the second one a third of a mile away with a flock of Dark-eyed Juncos. The first was of the subspecies <i>lutescens</i>, unlike the gray-headed one (probably <i>orestera</i>) that was at my feeders for much of December, was gone for two weeks, then reappeared at my bananas a couple days ago. But this second one looks somewhat intermediate. It’s not a very common species here in the winter, and only a total of six were found by all teams.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2eP9mKBxqCKMdvue9lqQ3ROyqLWXBoLZKEPr_XsfoP8Jg9XiOIZBMsFnXyraZj0tcDyt4iVu4Fvd4nZIym-rQCJVVwoqKlVoXWizttGKrRGH114N9NO_jVGiFEiiArtHCtTVAdjRDQXE/s886/Orange-crowned+Warbler.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="886" data-original-width="714" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2eP9mKBxqCKMdvue9lqQ3ROyqLWXBoLZKEPr_XsfoP8Jg9XiOIZBMsFnXyraZj0tcDyt4iVu4Fvd4nZIym-rQCJVVwoqKlVoXWizttGKrRGH114N9NO_jVGiFEiiArtHCtTVAdjRDQXE/s320/Orange-crowned+Warbler.jpeg" /></a></div><br />I thought this Common Yellowthroat was going to be my one and only true rarity. It was indeed the only one for the count, but the species is found about once every five years here. They are common in the winter not too far south of here in California.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyNhw7OI0gqS9rWPZr3-LWi2Cw1EBqAKf8JTgot9CF9j-p383Id8uHzGXiFxJxacrQNyTgL_ShGESQOBDwDl6psdDTPy3sWvMi00Bk-P2Yvo4Y50yqk8SinTDqDFhriKf2-itbw2MafLw/s1000/Common+Yellowthroat.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="562" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyNhw7OI0gqS9rWPZr3-LWi2Cw1EBqAKf8JTgot9CF9j-p383Id8uHzGXiFxJxacrQNyTgL_ShGESQOBDwDl6psdDTPy3sWvMi00Bk-P2Yvo4Y50yqk8SinTDqDFhriKf2-itbw2MafLw/s320/Common+Yellowthroat.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Since I had never been here before, I came across this very different gravel pit in the mid-afternoon as I was about to leave the area. It’s older, shallow, and wall-to-wall cattails (<i>Typha latifolia</i>). I gasped when rounded the corner and saw this, as it is perfect habitat for rails and could have something even more unusual. So I first did playback for the only species that is common here in winter, Virginia Rail. I instantly had two responding, and later I heard two more. But this habitat also screams Sora to me, so I played that and had an instant response from one. I tried again from a different side of the pond, and one from the same location called back, followed by one from right in front of me. Since this species has been recorded on only 1 out the past 50 years, it’s my officially rarest bird for the day, though it’s also surely vastly under-detected.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKL5t-wzkoNUXgK5H0zvmUHz8n3IS3Ff1Dnpkcc3egW8mmM3pbHY0pdaxR16bi00ufNprVl7ZeklGuiGSb58XylPWmsfD69TqOQMx1Cy7S_92d710-zZPQcR4XClfmWUsebP4XzBwTAbk/s1000/RiverBend+North+Pit+Scenery+%25282%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKL5t-wzkoNUXgK5H0zvmUHz8n3IS3Ff1Dnpkcc3egW8mmM3pbHY0pdaxR16bi00ufNprVl7ZeklGuiGSb58XylPWmsfD69TqOQMx1Cy7S_92d710-zZPQcR4XClfmWUsebP4XzBwTAbk/s320/RiverBend+North+Pit+Scenery+%25282%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I used the later afternoon to cruise the mostly rather new suburbs of NE Eugene, trying to stay on smaller roads. I found American Goldfinches feeding in an older (and non-native) sycamore tree, and I certainly boosted my Anna’s Hummingbird tally. But eventually I learned that no back roads connected through to the eastern part of my area, and so I was just pedaling along on the busier Ayers Road when I saw four swans in flight up ahead as I looked through powerlines and the numerous sweetgum and other obnoxious, non-native trees. I stopped quickly but didn’t even raise my binoculars as I know that there are two species possible. Instead I was ready with fast shutter speed and a positive exposure compensation on my camera when they emerged into open view. My first impression looking at my camera’s screen was confirmed in the evening when I zoomed in on the photos on my desktop computer. Trumpeter Swans! They have a larger bill than the much more abundant Tundra Swans, and the lack of any “pinch-off” between the eye and the bill is also distinctive. It’s a rare bird in western Oregon, with only a few dozen each winter in select localities, but very rare in the Eugene CBC circle with only four records in 50 years.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDToJ3XODWnu_mgkiu9UbrXDdt88sjctTP46YfDqAXYHJ3mKP4Pgqcup2sD9i5ttRNGRFDeK-3cSmVELBujCvYb542W58B56QtKCFF9N_BB6rxo7094DVmkEuDrgns5EMOCjTBJBxAMqk/s1000/Trumpeter+Swans.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="266" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDToJ3XODWnu_mgkiu9UbrXDdt88sjctTP46YfDqAXYHJ3mKP4Pgqcup2sD9i5ttRNGRFDeK-3cSmVELBujCvYb542W58B56QtKCFF9N_BB6rxo7094DVmkEuDrgns5EMOCjTBJBxAMqk/s320/Trumpeter+Swans.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVSHcK1WkVziRsS-6Ciss7-vtL5i9XWw4P1Ofca5faIxrsViaZklPOS16sdD3CHyPXo9TFMq_lduwIDpGsmrbvutCTdHbexwMXzs3ytAGvqbWACqw7_zfQk8vXhCMCmbi9qsWT48Tu5Rw/s792/Trumpeter+Swan.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="487" data-original-width="792" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVSHcK1WkVziRsS-6Ciss7-vtL5i9XWw4P1Ofca5faIxrsViaZklPOS16sdD3CHyPXo9TFMq_lduwIDpGsmrbvutCTdHbexwMXzs3ytAGvqbWACqw7_zfQk8vXhCMCmbi9qsWT48Tu5Rw/s320/Trumpeter+Swan.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I’ve heard that the total species count was 133 species, which is the sixth highest ever for this count, a remarkable total, considering the situation. The weather was unbelievably beautiful – calm, sunny, and warm for mid-winter (54°F). Clouds moved in mid-afternoon, and at about the time one should think about finishing up for the day, 4:00 p.m., it began to rain, and the decision was made. Perfect. It was a great day, but I missed the camaraderie of birding with a group, sharing fun sightings, and getting together at the end of the day for the countdown dinner. Next year. January 2, 2022.<p></p><div><br /></div>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-5072137717181929782021-01-09T07:00:00.019-08:002021-01-09T07:00:01.423-08:00 Coquille Valley Christmas Bird Count<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHCUBnnA_pLifcLMpPkSvUMiU0h97YqiG6DYAcVd_2OEvoIkUiavCNM09wPHA0x2s_uljZITO2Po-0iTtTqsjx_u5dVCo9W22kca1b9pSQUCMxUc15QMPggCLWke8DP8x_H1t5uSN_PAQ/s1000/Bandon+Marsh+NWR.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHCUBnnA_pLifcLMpPkSvUMiU0h97YqiG6DYAcVd_2OEvoIkUiavCNM09wPHA0x2s_uljZITO2Po-0iTtTqsjx_u5dVCo9W22kca1b9pSQUCMxUc15QMPggCLWke8DP8x_H1t5uSN_PAQ/s320/Bandon+Marsh+NWR.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I participated on this wonderful southern Oregon coastal CBC on January 2 this year. It has the potential to have the highest species count in the state, but not with the kind of brutal wind we had this day. It would have been better if we had simply had the more typical winter rain, but then I would have had fewer photos. Still, I had a great day, joined by the manager of Bandon Marsh National Wildlife Refuge Kate Iaquinto and her intern Cherie Barnes.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXJRqQXmnhDdkrjO7xvkTs889yRhsOCW_IrTxcFQ0I0EulzRufxmRur_RromJm_jzSG2pcPaEUbuz-A5JGApZhAhwmURMqvmahuBDpxrvG0YWjeEV4lucbI8Lr01eCA-BoVTfHluk-tCY/s1000/Kate+Iaquinto.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXJRqQXmnhDdkrjO7xvkTs889yRhsOCW_IrTxcFQ0I0EulzRufxmRur_RromJm_jzSG2pcPaEUbuz-A5JGApZhAhwmURMqvmahuBDpxrvG0YWjeEV4lucbI8Lr01eCA-BoVTfHluk-tCY/s320/Kate+Iaquinto.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Because of the wind, passerines were hard to hear and reluctant to come out. We first tromped out into the Ni-les’tun tidal grassland marsh hoping for Savannah Sparrow, and we finally found three.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIOm9sIEMlcZQDVHPisffDZ119CJh8Y-VP8O8Mh7Bw6pxvWLnrM0FHtMMyBbowCPHAY5Tym-cRjxzu3j7hHeM2snBWNEWfRP9kMTQAa6LAVDzPuZ7vy6R2C55MHMSgqI2WDwFxsn_o_bY/s1000/Savannah+Sparrow.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="884" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIOm9sIEMlcZQDVHPisffDZ119CJh8Y-VP8O8Mh7Bw6pxvWLnrM0FHtMMyBbowCPHAY5Tym-cRjxzu3j7hHeM2snBWNEWfRP9kMTQAa6LAVDzPuZ7vy6R2C55MHMSgqI2WDwFxsn_o_bY/s320/Savannah+Sparrow.jpeg" /></a></div><br />This habitat looked amazing, and I had fantasies of flushing a Yellow Rail or Black Rail from my feet. I could almost hallucinate hearing the chip calls of Sedge Wren or seeing a Nelson’s Sparrow scurry under a clump of grass. The only other little birds we saw out in the marsh were Marsh Wrens, and we saw several Northern Harriers dashing back and forth and a Peregrine Falcon speeding upriver.<p></p><p><br />In the very few Oregon Ash trees in our area I spotted a few Purple Finches, but all were the relatively drab females.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZiYq-nWkGUsqbAAcaXAdP-JQe81FZtIfb46fUthgDGDUEUAfbLfMEgn4cHVpaWvzARWCHy5x8RehngeQLVzxo6dTtgwZ6M9X-m076k98nLU8biTO7iUd8RV-H1TQ5Yi6ZH7hvQhtXi1g/s1000/Purple+Finch.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="621" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZiYq-nWkGUsqbAAcaXAdP-JQe81FZtIfb46fUthgDGDUEUAfbLfMEgn4cHVpaWvzARWCHy5x8RehngeQLVzxo6dTtgwZ6M9X-m076k98nLU8biTO7iUd8RV-H1TQ5Yi6ZH7hvQhtXi1g/s320/Purple+Finch.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>The constant wind made mixed flocks scarce, so during quiet times my eyes wandered to the ground. This super cool mushroom, related to morels, is Helvella verspertina, the Western Black Elfin Saddle. It may actually be a complex of poorly differentiated species; the understanding of species limits in mushrooms is about two centuries behind birds, but molecular work is speeding that up.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBrrva8JLBmNfttXOdgkhCiv5LGuBSO7iDFaJ1IAsUi4EIVfdbCWMH5dH_L-6NprCwPPbQFbQEpP7c6-kNX-6X6nAVptQnwAk-56n92rHf5kA7BJ6CBoFc0KOmQrkFzoQxI846SKMVCb0/s1000/Helvella+verspertina.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="949" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBrrva8JLBmNfttXOdgkhCiv5LGuBSO7iDFaJ1IAsUi4EIVfdbCWMH5dH_L-6NprCwPPbQFbQEpP7c6-kNX-6X6nAVptQnwAk-56n92rHf5kA7BJ6CBoFc0KOmQrkFzoQxI846SKMVCb0/s320/Helvella+verspertina.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The refuge also has a small freshwater bog restored from a former commercial cranberry bog. It has been occupied by an incredibly active family of beavers, as evidenced by a well-worn trail and dozens of felled and utterly dismantled Red Alder like this one.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAgHaWgIeI9utK5qgdC5GFq0IXgx1svy_jj4P88Mn_wNexELeAs3ILFkjLebl8iDxmoXGO6VzTtzCn1bwc3zMbZkZ2vNFmN60D2zz3GkZl5TM7QttaaoVPZhoDhiHFBb6zVwBKFyy9Jsg/s1000/Alder+chewed+by+Beaver.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAgHaWgIeI9utK5qgdC5GFq0IXgx1svy_jj4P88Mn_wNexELeAs3ILFkjLebl8iDxmoXGO6VzTtzCn1bwc3zMbZkZ2vNFmN60D2zz3GkZl5TM7QttaaoVPZhoDhiHFBb6zVwBKFyy9Jsg/s320/Alder+chewed+by+Beaver.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I actually did another CBC earlier this week – the Dallas CBC on December 29. (Again, this is Dallas, Oregon, not Texas.) But I forgot to put my SD card back into my camera and got no photos! I met up with my old birding friend from Tucson, Philip Kline, who now lives near Portland. We first birded the central buttes of Baskett Slough National Wildlife Refuge, followed by the Narrows. Later in the morning, my neighbor friend Thomas Meinzen and his girlfriend Molly Burchfield joined us (don't worry, we were all in separate cars and regretfully abstained from hugs), and our best bird of the day not long after was a Gyrfalcon, a bird known to be in the area but hardly a “stake-out.” It roams a very large area, often well north of us, but we were on Coville Road in the middle of the refuge when it stormed in, flushed a flock of Canada Geese (which it has been seen catching and eating earlier this month). I wouldn’t have been able to get a photo anyway. We also picked up some White-throated Sparrows and the count's only Brown-headed Cowbirds in the town of Rickreall.<p></p><div><br /></div>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-70030966154644012032021-01-08T07:00:00.003-08:002021-01-08T18:19:13.417-08:00 A Break to Chase CBC Rarities on 12/28<p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJe4SrOlA0tqhUu6IGRi7M6Hg4y-tQgfZfkQTVpEb4iBB0lMVGqnvTIKDYA2AWkVxK8Gg9dc2QtbmcHjSEoQX4fSnXMBytE0ShOUHVLkULCdJA84pmbSrZEysHMRGW1OxqLfA0xaiYg2Y/s689/Long-billed+Curlew.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="667" data-original-width="689" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJe4SrOlA0tqhUu6IGRi7M6Hg4y-tQgfZfkQTVpEb4iBB0lMVGqnvTIKDYA2AWkVxK8Gg9dc2QtbmcHjSEoQX4fSnXMBytE0ShOUHVLkULCdJA84pmbSrZEysHMRGW1OxqLfA0xaiYg2Y/s320/Long-billed+Curlew.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I decided to give the two Long-billed Curlews found by Barb Combs the day before on the Brownsville CBC a search. It’s a rare bird any time of year in the Willamette Valley, but there are exceedingly few winter records. I finally found them after searching their field about a mile SE of the town of Halsey three times, each time going away to look for other birds.<p></p><p>Bald Eagles were ridiculously common in the area.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPgg0VJGu-61A1wkBzr28dBoxcIUuSNVxEzhX8wNJI-212DOnk0O7dPjxsh-BE5XWx5FKMtb0uc4rkHskMyhB5k7ZzGUZZ0h3YEoz4IHIjihlDhsB8AWdLbQP8MkyoQqhhCIM_RgKnwu8/s2048/Bald+Eagle.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPgg0VJGu-61A1wkBzr28dBoxcIUuSNVxEzhX8wNJI-212DOnk0O7dPjxsh-BE5XWx5FKMtb0uc4rkHskMyhB5k7ZzGUZZ0h3YEoz4IHIjihlDhsB8AWdLbQP8MkyoQqhhCIM_RgKnwu8/s320/Bald+Eagle.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>There were also lots of gulls, mostly Mew Gulls, but they were mostly distant flocks, and I didn’t spent that much time scouring them for unusual species. Many were flying by, and I managed to get his rather unpleasant looking Herring Gull.</div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOJ8YFvfyq60Ahx7VZmJkvI1r5iPN9nnxidksRoZMmn-8M_AvnnlqcVyln3LZJAmM6jzFYhsxjbsi3OP8snQEHQQ0gk22koC-7o8q07zgo8CaWqC8-b_y-_36-wjPZ_gN0cHtMHiBO9Cc/s841/Herring+Gull.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="669" data-original-width="841" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOJ8YFvfyq60Ahx7VZmJkvI1r5iPN9nnxidksRoZMmn-8M_AvnnlqcVyln3LZJAmM6jzFYhsxjbsi3OP8snQEHQQ0gk22koC-7o8q07zgo8CaWqC8-b_y-_36-wjPZ_gN0cHtMHiBO9Cc/s320/Herring+Gull.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Here’s my poor record shot of a very dark first-winter “Harlan's’” Red-tailed Hawk, an uncommon subspecies this far south.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZEmdwj1lQCfPvrgMvtGUhzEZzvjiZBj0iF_NfuTVU2nCPjhDsy5Vf6UGWd-nUcsXmpky-IUjbBYAkwiMkxp-1Iv8hlhvg39tQ3tueiJaZ0ApjxjgNud6h8YIZxDtEWGrCiJF5tx6jU8Y/s388/Red-tailed+Hawk.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="371" data-original-width="388" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZEmdwj1lQCfPvrgMvtGUhzEZzvjiZBj0iF_NfuTVU2nCPjhDsy5Vf6UGWd-nUcsXmpky-IUjbBYAkwiMkxp-1Iv8hlhvg39tQ3tueiJaZ0ApjxjgNud6h8YIZxDtEWGrCiJF5tx6jU8Y/s320/Red-tailed+Hawk.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Finally a bit of fun with a flock of Dunlin and Black-bellied Plover. I only estimated the former at about 4000, while I counted 44 of the latter.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/PrAnrRUVb-A" width="320" youtube-src-id="PrAnrRUVb-A"></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-3115049249167167002021-01-07T07:00:00.001-08:002021-01-07T07:00:00.352-08:00 Brownsville Christmas Bird Count<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgswZuJTr06U7UbMcVIvLxBKjki5vNrpgc_mjtYm-QV2HPYYDCq4ttPicPjrQZc0icrK_WLi5QkNWfk_3DD0osb4tegbF4Yoe5vJZCES_OX5RHK6z4SMmm5Xy0okkpVjjtWEDi5J2iL0Dk/s1000/Mountain+Chickadee.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="631" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgswZuJTr06U7UbMcVIvLxBKjki5vNrpgc_mjtYm-QV2HPYYDCq4ttPicPjrQZc0icrK_WLi5QkNWfk_3DD0osb4tegbF4Yoe5vJZCES_OX5RHK6z4SMmm5Xy0okkpVjjtWEDi5J2iL0Dk/s320/Mountain+Chickadee.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p>I did the Brownsville Christmas Bird Count on December 27, a back-up date after heavy rains a week earlier made it unsafe, not to mention unbirdable. If you’re not from these parts, you might be thinking I traveled to southern Texas, but this is the CBC with the four-letter code ORBR, not TXBV. I’m talking about the circle that is centered just south of the tiny, historical mid-Willamette Valley town of Brownsville. (Incidentally, in case you’re into CBC codes, the CBC known as TXBR is Brazoria). This interesting circle is about one-half eastern Willamette Valley flats and one-half westernmost foothills of the Old Cascade Mountains, including quite a few smaller interior valleys, mainly the Calapooia River. It doesn’t have any very high elevations, but there’s a good diversity of habitat and excellent access.</p><p>I blogged about the great day I had here last year, with my friends Torrey and Thomas (https://birdernaturalist.blogspot.com/2020/03/2019-in-review-december-in-oregon-cbcs.html). Like last year, I covered the Crawfordsville area (the upper Calapooia and tributaries such as Brush Creek) and for part of the morning was shown around by John Marble and Cris Kostok who have two barns and a small pond on their properties. Alas, there was no Barn Owl yet again this year, but once again we had a Northern Pygmy-Owl on their property. And the pond that was empty last year had a pair of Hooded Mergansers and a pair of Ring-necked Dusk this year.</p><p>Otherwise, I was on my own for the day, using a rented car. I did go out owling early this year and had five Great Horned Owls and one Northern Saw-whet, right on the circle’s edge. My best find was probably the Mountain Chickadee pictured above quite early in the day, as I pished in a mixed flock of kinglets, nuthatches, Hutton’s Vireo, and Black-capped and Chestnut-backed Chickadees. This species is normally found much higher in the mountains with a broader diversity of conifers.</p><p>Which non-migratory passerine has the largest latitudinal distribution in the world? The answer is Black Phoebe, which here would have been a spectacular find just 25 years ago. I wasn’t surprised to find this one near the Crawfordsville cemetery though, as it’s been a good year everywhere for this range-expanding species. The count had its first record just 16 years ago and last year tallied ten. I’ll bet there were even more this year.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgATTUHLvoHsJbUGBj8t9rxd_A11i2YcXS2CA49AOQekd920Lx4Hp6qzggM9BbWNQUsz-ywmFwK3ke-b8kCtDiFRhyphenhyphenIKOsG6LvFEWgGS1yPmZddz7G2dliUskjiY9nC-US6CIZC6LZ5ekk/s1000/Black+Phoebe.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="771" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgATTUHLvoHsJbUGBj8t9rxd_A11i2YcXS2CA49AOQekd920Lx4Hp6qzggM9BbWNQUsz-ywmFwK3ke-b8kCtDiFRhyphenhyphenIKOsG6LvFEWgGS1yPmZddz7G2dliUskjiY9nC-US6CIZC6LZ5ekk/s320/Black+Phoebe.jpeg" /></a></div><p>I counted lots of mixed flocks in mixed oak/Douglas-fir woodlands, using owl imitations, pishing, and a mix tape of mobbing sounds that I made. This Hutton's Vireo was very curious.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG_KAPdGA0Oel1EJTXCuPqUTnhAVzctVHg54pck0DDsFAuJI5xizpKVqipYiK9Qn13lkHkYksWVTIqpHJqjekkCCxyv-5hw2cmrWL7oun2Z2uRiuAdrCXwiFtOrc17YwbI69Qqg05hjdc/s1000/Hutton%2527s+Vireo.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="578" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG_KAPdGA0Oel1EJTXCuPqUTnhAVzctVHg54pck0DDsFAuJI5xizpKVqipYiK9Qn13lkHkYksWVTIqpHJqjekkCCxyv-5hw2cmrWL7oun2Z2uRiuAdrCXwiFtOrc17YwbI69Qqg05hjdc/s320/Hutton%2527s+Vireo.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />It’s been a pretty good year for numbers of Red-breasted Nuthatches, but I don’t think it was a record year in the Valley.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBI9SL8YwhZbvcSa1Biflck77FTdEhAXgqPh3x_qEvJ87nPPnw_WBtaSKJS0qW_lIFMkeyZ2FRLIOJoakzS9XoGO-AE-rMJA6qzSFjPpoHvKtUwJpaKSIXJlYF7lKIfhjj-s7RMASvHjQ/s1000/Red-breasted+Nuthatches.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="706" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBI9SL8YwhZbvcSa1Biflck77FTdEhAXgqPh3x_qEvJ87nPPnw_WBtaSKJS0qW_lIFMkeyZ2FRLIOJoakzS9XoGO-AE-rMJA6qzSFjPpoHvKtUwJpaKSIXJlYF7lKIfhjj-s7RMASvHjQ/s320/Red-breasted+Nuthatches.jpeg" /></a></div><br />The local subspecies of White-breasted Nuthatch, with a distinctive call and song unlike the other two subspecies groups, is resident here in Oregon White Oak woodlands. This is such a characteristic pose, I, even with my artistic ineptitude, would sketch this shape on my homework when I was a young teenager.<p></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH_VW9HhLCgK-ugwbsysBzgj52cF6piKCft45iYU4Jrr0oFO4a7yUM6EHxv-zXI3cLt0-6ZRYIQrpO_yHA9bgkI-iVM-3vuTKWkWExM7n9feXrzJ3ivw9jGtco1TzIItmluxVS9lKZRQE/s1000/White-breasted+Nuthatch.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="864" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH_VW9HhLCgK-ugwbsysBzgj52cF6piKCft45iYU4Jrr0oFO4a7yUM6EHxv-zXI3cLt0-6ZRYIQrpO_yHA9bgkI-iVM-3vuTKWkWExM7n9feXrzJ3ivw9jGtco1TzIItmluxVS9lKZRQE/s320/White-breasted+Nuthatch.jpeg" /></a></div><p></p><p>I finished the day with my second Northern Pygmy-Owl for the day, also on the very edge of the CBC circle.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnfJY_R0PD8YlPh9stQbDdFwpnjUJhJA5rkNkDXcS7hL2MDBUlI80TOZ16ctvksNAlN-pXgF5Hws0crUfrk3W3eLPdjcI0WiJ3zLuVR4Srx5b11pTyv0GL4nW3bMFTWv8SGchYtGAMKBA/s1000/Northern+Pygmy-Owl.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="639" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnfJY_R0PD8YlPh9stQbDdFwpnjUJhJA5rkNkDXcS7hL2MDBUlI80TOZ16ctvksNAlN-pXgF5Hws0crUfrk3W3eLPdjcI0WiJ3zLuVR4Srx5b11pTyv0GL4nW3bMFTWv8SGchYtGAMKBA/s320/Northern+Pygmy-Owl.jpeg" /></a></div><br />My species total came to 58, unless the two types of Red Crossbill I found and recorded (Types 2 and 4) are split. Some really rare birds were found by others this day: Long-billed Curlews were in a field west of I-5, and an astounding mid-winter Hammond’s Flycatcher was at a pond on a private farm, both exemplifying one of the exciting things about the CBC – it gets people out birding in places they normally wouldn’t be, and unexpected things get found.<p></p><div><br /></div>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-41643919348621210552021-01-06T14:27:00.005-08:002021-01-06T14:27:37.362-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTHog41KYp4u2_fCdDpmkzInuZp3iqpvD26IRGZodhaBiAJyufbuy7qkaqMESBMOOY2vNRx00BSCAOXj5OlMwKDLLx8_hM8Lx-gxEm_n1FjNjNaqadussG5FNgS7XX97ZsK4j_89Upgfo/s1000/Ruby-crowned+Kinglet.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="736" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTHog41KYp4u2_fCdDpmkzInuZp3iqpvD26IRGZodhaBiAJyufbuy7qkaqMESBMOOY2vNRx00BSCAOXj5OlMwKDLLx8_hM8Lx-gxEm_n1FjNjNaqadussG5FNgS7XX97ZsK4j_89Upgfo/s320/Ruby-crowned+Kinglet.jpeg" width="320" /></a></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">I thought I’d re-cap the last five CBCs that I did, making for a total of seven this season, all in Oregon:</span></div><p>12/14/20 Tangent</p><p>12/19/20 Roseburg</p><p>(see my earlier blog for my summary of these two)</p><p>12/22/20 Corvallis</p><p>12/27/20 Brownsville</p><p>12/29/20 Dallas</p><p>1/2/21 Coquille Valley</p><p>1/3/21 Eugene</p><p>The 2020-2021 Christmas Bird Count Season all but over. Today is Monday, January 4, and tomorrow is the official last day that compilers were allowed to choose to hold their CBC. But few compilers ever choose a weekday, hoping to garner the most participants by selecting a Saturday or Sunday, assuming that most birders work weekdays. The problem with that is they then are competing with all the other weekend CBC circles for the same observer base, as there are only so many weekend days during the period, two of which are usually devoted to family get-togethers for Christmas, should that holiday fall on a weekend, Monday, or Friday as this year. In any event, in Oregon, all of the CBCs are done for the season; one just south of Klamath Falls just barely into California is being held today.</p><p>On the night of December 19 a very wet storm descended upon western Oregon, causing the compiler of the Brownsville CBC to stay up until after midnight, monitoring the weather alerts. When flood watches turned to flood warnings, she rescheduled for December 27.</p><p>So let me start here with my original home count, Corvallis, which I took part in for the first time in 1985, when I was 15. I was the compiler of it for a couple of years in the mid-1990’s, when I redrew the area boundaries, aroused the ire of all the old-timers, and boosted the average species count by something like 15 for all subsequent years. After participating again this year, I can see how the areas might need to be redrawn once again by someone who knows the circle even better than I did in 1994. A successful count attracts as many observers as possible and insures they have fun. A circle with well-drawn areas has a lot to do with those goals.</p><p>Because of the pandemic, some compilers decided to cancel altogether, such as Corvallis. But the only parts of a CBC that are risky for virus transmission are carpooling and the end-of-day countdown dinner. For some reason it didn’t occur to many compilers that you can still hold a CBC without those. Teams must be smaller, ride in separate cars, and countdown dinners must be canceled. Participants have often just e-mailed in their results for years, and species countdowns work just fine (if not great) on Zoom. Birding outside where your (or anyone else’s) potential virus particles are instantly dispersed into infinity is one of the safest things you can do during the pandemic.</p><p>The Corvallis CBC would have been held on December 22 based on its customary pattern, so a bunch of birders agreed online to go out birding on that day. The only organizing that was done was that people signed up on a Google doc where they were going to bird, but no one policed any overlap. As long as everyone kept track of their own effort data (miles and minutes), overlap is actually perfectly ok. We all entered our data into eBird, and Fred Ramsey volunteered to sum it all up. So a canceled CBC was somewhat revived without anyone having to commit to being compiler or commit to covering an entire area.</p><p>I went all-out though, walking through residential Corvallis based at my dad’s house, and birding in parts of three different CBC sectors. I walked 11.44 miles, and the weather cooperated wonderfully. I had amazing sun behind me in the morning when I photographed the Ruby-crowned Kinglet above.</p><p>This California Scrub-Jay was in the same location, at a railroad trestle that I used to play near when I was 7 years old.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqc1U9C490WU_vvFFHPv-1VDRB2LXlFm-fbQLXWXtKLcP6HnC_xry18SqhuEXge3yFfD9xurbggfYXJBa4EAVxSLdf6u2BnMMPNL_WDfZmMz8WkQFj8nUITKUyBBiX_sPfIdkD_2i_X9c/s1000/California+Scrub-Jay.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="732" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqc1U9C490WU_vvFFHPv-1VDRB2LXlFm-fbQLXWXtKLcP6HnC_xry18SqhuEXge3yFfD9xurbggfYXJBa4EAVxSLdf6u2BnMMPNL_WDfZmMz8WkQFj8nUITKUyBBiX_sPfIdkD_2i_X9c/s320/California+Scrub-Jay.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The first part of my afternoon birding included a walk with my dad, stepmom, and their two beagles. With them I spotted this Sharp-shinned Hawk when it flew into a cottonwood, and we all got to watch it for a while.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi7FfhJE1FMPgPma38FVvfR3VRRDAHauY7tQa0LxwuYVMoE5Zj3YqdjwaOyB_Sk0Bg9-50r6tsHJp7RHXie6z1fVpOnmKbZQ61UX5unROMWYt26Q83qti_fsnMTwW0HxlJ5Hh1aqLskF4/s1000/Sharp-shinned+Hawk.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="649" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi7FfhJE1FMPgPma38FVvfR3VRRDAHauY7tQa0LxwuYVMoE5Zj3YqdjwaOyB_Sk0Bg9-50r6tsHJp7RHXie6z1fVpOnmKbZQ61UX5unROMWYt26Q83qti_fsnMTwW0HxlJ5Hh1aqLskF4/s320/Sharp-shinned+Hawk.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><p>After we parted ways, I stumbled across a surprising seven White-throated Sparrows. This first one was by itself in a front yard.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgirUz_TIFS1dWIAgezc20XKR0x7nxLniYfhG7cpTcDBf9P_YEs7KNEuIdPi4L-wSyEkK1AeNME-r65lwNwjFxUZ1zGge9OwOpYFrkC6W9O9AV-PggPmaU1MhdfD0SWsfMcyjoe153T1PE/s1000/White-throated+Sparrow.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="937" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgirUz_TIFS1dWIAgezc20XKR0x7nxLniYfhG7cpTcDBf9P_YEs7KNEuIdPi4L-wSyEkK1AeNME-r65lwNwjFxUZ1zGge9OwOpYFrkC6W9O9AV-PggPmaU1MhdfD0SWsfMcyjoe153T1PE/s320/White-throated+Sparrow.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>These two White-throated Sparrows were part of a group of three together in another side yard not far away.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrBQzM4V9mKZYqVqS_s3zJMySTvbzbj5tQfxiNyjVIYSIJJwvKnskblZGoR2b75ckQqHEecVjju57qQVSL4Do-sijlXdTRa-odWg98rTm39odXds5U7qUkgSk5McXJYtm49AD_GFWi3-Q/s1000/White-throated+Sparrow+%25282%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="882" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrBQzM4V9mKZYqVqS_s3zJMySTvbzbj5tQfxiNyjVIYSIJJwvKnskblZGoR2b75ckQqHEecVjju57qQVSL4Do-sijlXdTRa-odWg98rTm39odXds5U7qUkgSk5McXJYtm49AD_GFWi3-Q/s320/White-throated+Sparrow+%25282%2529.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcWYqnjTcguzc28pGddMbz0lu84T3z8F20vaWolLwbyLvRmteOr2l0AWAd7TydRa_eniyP29VKuFgt93ComL5cjtxxKoBZO0Cci66C3Qq0_W9pSCbxHZtcsDpL7VSxrsjh62802I4IBUE/s1000/White-throated+Sparrow+%25281%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="660" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcWYqnjTcguzc28pGddMbz0lu84T3z8F20vaWolLwbyLvRmteOr2l0AWAd7TydRa_eniyP29VKuFgt93ComL5cjtxxKoBZO0Cci66C3Qq0_W9pSCbxHZtcsDpL7VSxrsjh62802I4IBUE/s320/White-throated+Sparrow+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>I wandered up the nicer, older, more wooded neighborhood on the E slope of Witham Hill, once a grassy knoll with a few scattered oaks when my grandparents were the first to build their dream house on top in the 1950’s, overlooking the town. This Lions-mane mushroom, <i>Hericium erinaceus</i>, was high up on a limb of one of those older Oregon White Oaks.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE6PO1Mq01DBbNQV0E_lqudUGplwXlGufgx-TxQBnGhkY0E4-oh0gLv7_Bkhf8TOIlavhN0HleJ002o0KiNjrc4tJqm9Thea1iTOo4JNiAKxMqlYtpxrocdxID8t5tJYQgYvnJbv6gevw/s1008/Hericium+erinaceus.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1008" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE6PO1Mq01DBbNQV0E_lqudUGplwXlGufgx-TxQBnGhkY0E4-oh0gLv7_Bkhf8TOIlavhN0HleJ002o0KiNjrc4tJqm9Thea1iTOo4JNiAKxMqlYtpxrocdxID8t5tJYQgYvnJbv6gevw/s320/Hericium+erinaceus.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><p>I had a very excited mixed flock of birds up here, including these that approached very closely to my owl imitations and mobbing mix recording:</p><p>Townsend's Warbler</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTQM7cJlLYUQxCZpOMjXl5zeK7Q5dEP-F107xTwnXrWFZNV4vWgBKfkkaDrIoT4fBuRzDT0_2KoPXGI9RpQzrv2qKHRwhxkjiZq9R925eaTdkYQnPuBelVo67C1U1Hdvq3Z4H8roR3zWI/s1000/Townsend%2527s+Warbler.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="649" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTQM7cJlLYUQxCZpOMjXl5zeK7Q5dEP-F107xTwnXrWFZNV4vWgBKfkkaDrIoT4fBuRzDT0_2KoPXGI9RpQzrv2qKHRwhxkjiZq9R925eaTdkYQnPuBelVo67C1U1Hdvq3Z4H8roR3zWI/s320/Townsend%2527s+Warbler.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>Yellow-rumped Warbler</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8hQasno-u8UZJ4YLNpTlNY-j6fQFB9cz0H4FomUFxXqh9zwRren-DAsd8RXR6Pu0mjOBO0SMiwnrpkXK_OM_WIcDwF2mxLQo40Pj-7C-6S2mErRz_r3qC5qublekcKe0jcEUBzcbC_gw/s1000/Yellow-rumped+Warbler.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="637" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8hQasno-u8UZJ4YLNpTlNY-j6fQFB9cz0H4FomUFxXqh9zwRren-DAsd8RXR6Pu0mjOBO0SMiwnrpkXK_OM_WIcDwF2mxLQo40Pj-7C-6S2mErRz_r3qC5qublekcKe0jcEUBzcbC_gw/s320/Yellow-rumped+Warbler.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>Fox Sparrow</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVN29eMkyOj0sP8VbupvieBEI9Y6aMlHPDQy57mwlbZ9q4ZtI5CRfNbot4q0Y5Sw9e4Q7-IgKdiw5EUKR3gOmvm5bUtNjstoQ4lrfqk1O56BfRCGulAjK57_0LeqOD6crn-qfLYv17uIg/s1000/Fox+Sparrow.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="915" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVN29eMkyOj0sP8VbupvieBEI9Y6aMlHPDQy57mwlbZ9q4ZtI5CRfNbot4q0Y5Sw9e4Q7-IgKdiw5EUKR3gOmvm5bUtNjstoQ4lrfqk1O56BfRCGulAjK57_0LeqOD6crn-qfLYv17uIg/s320/Fox+Sparrow.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>A lowlight of my day was discovering that the Eastern Gray Squirrel, <i>Sciurus carolinensis</i>, has begun to colonize Corvallis, presumably a gradual encroachment from their old Oregon introduction in Salem. This was one of two at the Linn-Benton Center.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNwEAmpiPu6qVSA-SDBRlfC8wBUUHZxn3XhWxyMOUClg0uR2rz1zSg9062ZjufDxNu2HazkHouiY5Yb3wySIpD1DBTl024Cs1hhYRvtCPMSiIxK-VjuadPCeSKZIV9Z-7WMSkc33J_KXg/s1000/Sciurus+carolinensis.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="517" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNwEAmpiPu6qVSA-SDBRlfC8wBUUHZxn3XhWxyMOUClg0uR2rz1zSg9062ZjufDxNu2HazkHouiY5Yb3wySIpD1DBTl024Cs1hhYRvtCPMSiIxK-VjuadPCeSKZIV9Z-7WMSkc33J_KXg/s320/Sciurus+carolinensis.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><p>The attractive native Western Gray Squirrel, <i>Sciurus griseus</i>, with its much larger, fluffier tail and no brown in the pelage, is still the more common species in Corvallis. Let’s hope it stays that way.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Te4Jjk04VHjs-ev_0HZFAb1WaqHccVCQ0Hg5M1z7JRV2oTe_XXIovC9KD-6iuggo4YWlFcWpAUJskWPHtNAOdMU8uPeJtvKYPosXRmIi3A1sAogYIwD5TxaaQO0GxD0tXsbiOFvpWv8/s1000/Sciurus+griseus.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="674" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Te4Jjk04VHjs-ev_0HZFAb1WaqHccVCQ0Hg5M1z7JRV2oTe_XXIovC9KD-6iuggo4YWlFcWpAUJskWPHtNAOdMU8uPeJtvKYPosXRmIi3A1sAogYIwD5TxaaQO0GxD0tXsbiOFvpWv8/s320/Sciurus+griseus.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>My best find of the day was this Nashville Warbler, which pished out of a rhododendron in the front yard of a house in an older neighborhood with lots of very old trees, very close to where I grew up by the OSU campus and Harding Grade School where I attended kindergarten and first grade. It turns out that this bird is subsisting on a suet feeder at this house (which I failed to notice), and that it had been seen by a birder at her feeder just a block away three weeks earlier. But it disappeared then after a few days, and birders all but forgot about it. I see on eBird that birders continue to see it now, two weeks later. Interestingly, Hendrik Herlyn and I found a Nashville Warbler on this CBC exactly 10 years ago.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSySXjY08NsdK8IcT9W6A4oQvdyO4lEdOoUGvC4-8B6TPciYVCGmp639AqoqZHRTarohTvTOn_kHWmwT6wJxeAS73qOKBvT7v0vnnJ_qagLlQdV6jCH5ae__kdLoyv5VatJZpVjovCNEs/s1010/Nashville+Warbler.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1010" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSySXjY08NsdK8IcT9W6A4oQvdyO4lEdOoUGvC4-8B6TPciYVCGmp639AqoqZHRTarohTvTOn_kHWmwT6wJxeAS73qOKBvT7v0vnnJ_qagLlQdV6jCH5ae__kdLoyv5VatJZpVjovCNEs/s320/Nashville+Warbler.jpeg" /></a></div>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-4558053548256417912020-12-23T11:53:00.002-08:002020-12-23T11:53:15.004-08:00Ruby-crowned Kinglets Eat Bananas!<p>I’ll bet you’ve never read that sentence before, that is unless you read posts to the email list Oregon Birders OnLine, OBOL. Last week I posted this to the list, in case other birders might be interested in trying it.</p><p>Bananas are always one of the most popular foods on bird feeders in the tropics where I lead tours. Warblers, tanagers, sparrows, icterids, and of course more tropical things like barbets and aracaris swarm over them. But I’ve never seen them offered in the US, and it’s never occurred to me. But in these stay-at-home pandemic times, we’re all becoming a bit more creative and experimental, aren’t we? My oranges have been pretty much ignored for over a year, and they are supposedly a well-known draw for orioles and tanagers. (I did have a young Black-capped Chickadee that took a liking to my oranges in July and August, but that lasted just a couple weeks, and then it was probably snagged by the family of voracious Cooper’s Hawks that nested nearby.)</p><p>At $.79/pound for organic in my local grocery store right now, bananas at this price probably would be scoffed at and ignored in Costa Rica or Bolivia. For that money there, you could probably get a 25 pound bunch or more. I’m cutting up a single banana into quarters and once a week or so putting them out on my four orange feeders. I’ve been doing this since early spring, and until now I have seen only a single Yellow-rumped Warbler take a couple of experimental bites. Then about three weeks ago, I noticed a bunch of bites out of one, and it didn’t take much waiting to see that the culprit was a Ruby-crowned Kinglet. It’s now one of his favorite foods. I say “his,” because you can sometimes see the red in the crown, as in the video below.</p><p>Then the Orange-crowned Warbler that showed up in my yard on December 3 (a very scare winter bird this far north) began nibbling at the bananas just over a week ago, and it’s now a regular there as well. It mostly feeds from the peanut butter suet cakes, but also gleans for insects.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEAjG5qURiQDhU7DL-XhWlN2g8vpzKfvWd7uSlpTqa34rbvWyLt6XswKRo6sDoMKPg5VRFxMDs-GQPjFnJfBsY_bpv3-HJ_7bA8IIweqe9Xz0tDZIl7KCByxnnfrHCJcjmZMYZeuXb9hs/s1000/Orange-crowned+Warbler.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="827" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEAjG5qURiQDhU7DL-XhWlN2g8vpzKfvWd7uSlpTqa34rbvWyLt6XswKRo6sDoMKPg5VRFxMDs-GQPjFnJfBsY_bpv3-HJ_7bA8IIweqe9Xz0tDZIl7KCByxnnfrHCJcjmZMYZeuXb9hs/s320/Orange-crowned+Warbler.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Now, just a few times this past week, I’ve now seen Townsend’s Warbler nibbling at the banana (it’s the second most common wintering warbler here). Here's a video montage I made of all three species.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/W3w_S3I5WLk" width="320" youtube-src-id="W3w_S3I5WLk"></iframe></div><p>I have no doubt that starlings and robins would love banana, but I don’t think they view these wood-and-nail feeders as the sort of place they’d like to perch. Let’s hope it stays that way.</p><p> </p>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-60700611379131357672020-12-20T17:16:00.000-08:002020-12-20T17:16:59.321-08:00My First Two Christmas Bird Counts of 2020<p>If it weren’t for the pandemic, I’d be packing, getting ready to travel to Oaxaca today. Since that tour was canceled, long ago, I’m doing a bunch of Christmas Bird Counts. And if it weren’t for the rather warm and very wet weather system flowing into northwestern Oregon right now, I’d be doing the Brownsville CBC today. Late last night though, as a result of the flood warnings issued by the National Weather Service, the compiler opted to postpone it for a week, so I have a moment to blog about the CBC’s I have done so far.</p><p>The weather on both the Tangent and Roseburg CBCs was perfect, so I’m quite glad to have not been out in the rain all day today. There were very few brief breaks in the nearly constant rain here at home, and in the past 24 hours we have received 2 inches, twice as what was locally forecast. The foothills of the Cascades around the town of Crawfordsville, where I was to be, would have certainly been wetter.</p><p>Tangent, which I did on Monday, December 14, is an unofficial Christmas Bird Count – rejected because it overlaps a bit with an already-existing CBC circle. But since all the data goes into eBird and essentially the same protocols are followed, the data is just as usable as any other CBC, if not more so, considering that it’s organized by an ornithologist who is a stickler for usable bird data. If a CBC’s data is to be used to determine relative abundance and trends over time, there’s no reason why circles can’t overlap. But the CBC is largely a social event that involves some friendly competition, so this circle’s data probably won’t be useful in that regard. No matter for me, as one of the fun parts of any CBC, official or not, is that it gets you out birding in an area you wouldn’t normally think of covering. Since pandemic CBC birding has been stripped of its social aspect anyway, I’ve committed this year to merely contribute to the database.</p><p>My assigned area had two distinctive regions: the north bank of the South Santiam River opposite the town of Lebanon, which I did in the morning, and the ag fields all around Peterson Butte, famous for being the first location where Ring-necked Pheasant was released in North America. Along the Santiam I checked for river ducks, Common Goldeneye being an easy target. (No Barrows this year, though they come this far downriver only very rarely.)</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoJtvRbJx1AtI9D99g9s0nSWnEfm0bWI-4i06EnI_FeqGd4OkpLAjv72bFbxdbdgi4mFcYMvPGep8RLJQ4j_j1RUyCqtPMOZwFZad7VBGUludHxHa7oLX7GzQ_-NcoK3vE78sY6o-ajng/s1000/Common+Goldeneye.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="643" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoJtvRbJx1AtI9D99g9s0nSWnEfm0bWI-4i06EnI_FeqGd4OkpLAjv72bFbxdbdgi4mFcYMvPGep8RLJQ4j_j1RUyCqtPMOZwFZad7VBGUludHxHa7oLX7GzQ_-NcoK3vE78sY6o-ajng/s320/Common+Goldeneye.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I also had plenty of Bald Eagles, but I was directly below this one before I realized it was there.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZBygcvrgfnW7yqDynCbVugQBL5mf8kj3EGp4N1duxG9WZuhaQrRG6vnIqqMD5Oau6z_QoydXQ3WeVxfS34Csgxsn5FzpUKS-DBqkcWo1SByeHHVdzySsp6orS84T7Brzn8ftK29ezUzU/s1505/Bald+Eagle.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1505" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZBygcvrgfnW7yqDynCbVugQBL5mf8kj3EGp4N1duxG9WZuhaQrRG6vnIqqMD5Oau6z_QoydXQ3WeVxfS34Csgxsn5FzpUKS-DBqkcWo1SByeHHVdzySsp6orS84T7Brzn8ftK29ezUzU/s320/Bald+Eagle.jpeg" /></a></div><br />In the fields below Peterson Butte was where I was told to keep an eye out for Rough-legged Hawk, and sure enough in the afternoon I found two. This one was perched nicely next to the road.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrMMXsf6OPl23nQUeBQMB_Sqg6bFW2c1a7d-cUxkDHqWLODBnd3soFZPOMU_oaO0AVv9lA0RHcgRspfxXebCIS-IyIbMmSip3kN3BN1eky9kdP2pnLfA2WJmZC6_VNx8AA8n7aqJwziAE/s1617/Rough-legged+Hawk.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1617" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrMMXsf6OPl23nQUeBQMB_Sqg6bFW2c1a7d-cUxkDHqWLODBnd3soFZPOMU_oaO0AVv9lA0RHcgRspfxXebCIS-IyIbMmSip3kN3BN1eky9kdP2pnLfA2WJmZC6_VNx8AA8n7aqJwziAE/s320/Rough-legged+Hawk.jpeg" /></a></div><br />There was a good southerly breeze, and as I scoured the skies above the butte for possible Golden Eagles, I saw a bunch of paragliders and a single hang-glider above the butte and saw that they had parked their cars on a ridge by some microwave antennae. Long story short: I found the road to the top, called the number on a sign for the land manager, and got permission to enter through the gate and drive up. From there I hiked to the top, and the views of the Willamette Valley to the west were marvelous.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFfcrmZgbIWr45rP_lFgH1iuDYmua60s8-D2XzvLjP8p9hBP-_5zV-uTL-yf9GBD4yPx0NsqRCsdJM0VruFKD07_X9Bn-wLN8Wh5qbrCv6zYnyzXS_yaO7jcXw-Rc5VUUkGsuAiNmIudc/s1468/Peterson+Butte.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1468" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFfcrmZgbIWr45rP_lFgH1iuDYmua60s8-D2XzvLjP8p9hBP-_5zV-uTL-yf9GBD4yPx0NsqRCsdJM0VruFKD07_X9Bn-wLN8Wh5qbrCv6zYnyzXS_yaO7jcXw-Rc5VUUkGsuAiNmIudc/s320/Peterson+Butte.jpeg" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1mnnDBP0I8nM5RMW7TWj1typbwGUzfEmIVlRTKH95S3RNG42QTY16nKtOzH2WxildMTfkTKCT0hMJ7rpSmaVuRqV-GQ4Kd8q9gs_e1OXmU3eiKjrvxZ508lM1_sicbjcSsVd6Sc3DGjU/s1000/Peterson+Butte+%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1mnnDBP0I8nM5RMW7TWj1typbwGUzfEmIVlRTKH95S3RNG42QTY16nKtOzH2WxildMTfkTKCT0hMJ7rpSmaVuRqV-GQ4Kd8q9gs_e1OXmU3eiKjrvxZ508lM1_sicbjcSsVd6Sc3DGjU/s320/Peterson+Butte+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I had seen two Prairie Falcons from the base of the butte, but up here I got great views of one flying right by me, though it was tricky to photograph.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigX9qUFKNKqx8Gt80X0AH6W1pCURkBO0iNinv-avvaWVEzj4nML1x3pmFsAu6qx2wUhyphenhyphenfbg07HsRCNE6Fky-KW2lpS7crArptWVHg82Wci6-u2cNHoWxAxoL5VqrPrmJERjMbGR4IxpTI/s903/Prairie+Falcon.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="903" data-original-width="863" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigX9qUFKNKqx8Gt80X0AH6W1pCURkBO0iNinv-avvaWVEzj4nML1x3pmFsAu6qx2wUhyphenhyphenfbg07HsRCNE6Fky-KW2lpS7crArptWVHg82Wci6-u2cNHoWxAxoL5VqrPrmJERjMbGR4IxpTI/s320/Prairie+Falcon.jpeg" /></a></div><br />There was no sign of a Golden Eagle, but the dozens of Bald Eagles that spend the winter in the flats feeding on stillborn lambs and the abundant afterbirth were having a blast joining the paragliders. I took this photo at eye level, though the shutter wasn’t as fast would have been ideal.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgseypF6dvN0VTCCA-sGRIQaBLuJ-EizzCHNQV75ap5qBxl9spCStk9bT5Xe4ifGkZNN2CHeZPyut9rHwQ6p__nGyCiMNCrdsDjd0UFWrUEEduK1CtDUKQ1h2tTDts8BnALn9xgY0AxZEA/s1387/Bald+Eagle+%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1387" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgseypF6dvN0VTCCA-sGRIQaBLuJ-EizzCHNQV75ap5qBxl9spCStk9bT5Xe4ifGkZNN2CHeZPyut9rHwQ6p__nGyCiMNCrdsDjd0UFWrUEEduK1CtDUKQ1h2tTDts8BnALn9xgY0AxZEA/s320/Bald+Eagle+%25281%2529.jpeg" /></a></div><br />It was interesting to find Wrentits on the slopes of Peterson Butte. I had also heard some on the N side of the river in the morning. They have clearly thoroughly colonized this region, starting probably over 30 years ago, so paucity of records from the Cascade foothills to the north, in Marion, Clackamas, and Multnomah counties is very puzzling.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaAnHwyerTWlLJ1ziVXlHKIT4rZcj2S18WPKn6FXf7VjoUA6OlizM7d0UPXXcC1u-lqZOhz0JfigZI2P9hvicq_mGZqIj9cbEAZfh3eQrQRtjtvqCrt4lbTi7AMivfH2uSeoIHhyRidGI/s1000/Wrentit.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaAnHwyerTWlLJ1ziVXlHKIT4rZcj2S18WPKn6FXf7VjoUA6OlizM7d0UPXXcC1u-lqZOhz0JfigZI2P9hvicq_mGZqIj9cbEAZfh3eQrQRtjtvqCrt4lbTi7AMivfH2uSeoIHhyRidGI/s320/Wrentit.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Yesterday, December 19 was the Roseburg CBC. My area was the same one I did last year in the northern part of the circle, starting at the Sutherlin exit on Interstate 5, just barely over an hour’s drive south of my home (I still have the cute little Nissan Versa that I’ve rented for a month). The highlight here is Fords Pond, an old log pond converted to a nature reserve. I started before dawn doing playback for rails and got answers from two Soras and two Virginia Rails. I wanted then to start very early on the oak hillside to the west of the lake, but on the way I heard a Swamp Sparrow calling away, a very good get for the count. I finally made it up to the top of the oaks as the sun was rising over the Cascades.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE_g4HSTtaQxUGUkOoOJUyJejkxDLiAGCkG35IH-B4jli-rQ7HjLoeJ8EPUS27am045VmNmgKjJTid2OzHpf79z5Ixi6le2LLQIXz8dtUgKjt1O2to1Cz1e-jMg8Q7mTbhzqH1PWaNNAc/s1000/Fords+Pond.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE_g4HSTtaQxUGUkOoOJUyJejkxDLiAGCkG35IH-B4jli-rQ7HjLoeJ8EPUS27am045VmNmgKjJTid2OzHpf79z5Ixi6le2LLQIXz8dtUgKjt1O2to1Cz1e-jMg8Q7mTbhzqH1PWaNNAc/s320/Fords+Pond.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />In this view, you can see the tremendous amount of habitat restoration work that is taking place: each white post is a native shrub planted in a protector in a field that last year was one massive patch of invasive blackberries. Fingers crossed they can keep it up. The Golden-crowned Sparrows certainly weren’t happy to have lost their wintering habitat, but breeding Lazuli Buntings and Chipping Sparrows will almost certainly benefit, as will any native arthropods who prefer the native vegetation.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8FIGkjW9fAb6UfvGw4CEmAGuWDWt0NrNWnnD-LW6D9mME8Lc_03SmX6gTogXPDfW-Ss_I9mFF1Z-Yyt3skuc4X8Tan4fp43t-vtqLDbcata7tnvfgvZdGui6czA3jRMlep9eRHbojbEk/s1000/Fords+Pond+%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8FIGkjW9fAb6UfvGw4CEmAGuWDWt0NrNWnnD-LW6D9mME8Lc_03SmX6gTogXPDfW-Ss_I9mFF1Z-Yyt3skuc4X8Tan4fp43t-vtqLDbcata7tnvfgvZdGui6czA3jRMlep9eRHbojbEk/s320/Fords+Pond+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I happily entered there four Snow Geese to my list, wondering why they looked so white, but instantly dismissing it. It’s their wingtips: Snow Geese have black wingtips. The bills and legs were also maybe a bit too yellow, but I convinced myself they were actually pinkish. The bill shape was very good for Snow Goose (eliminating Ross’s), and they acted wary, moving off with wild Canada Geese as I approached. They didn’t honk like domestic geese (of which there were three on the pond). It turns out they have been here for at least two years, and so there’s something fishy about them. Note that there are also four Cackling Geese in this photo.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcyFpCoNDcomJnJLfEq7x-Yuz1aWvt0XrVRgsZV6vxCLcXQR_uEcANJTz7Xw2fxX4dPDOz-v9c3dnKzN5xHWv9ssQH47eu9xjG_Kakg6E7Ta1mLzhyJy-2nx8-tJrxhmDFiFlRRL9c978/s1000/Snow+Goose.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="472" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcyFpCoNDcomJnJLfEq7x-Yuz1aWvt0XrVRgsZV6vxCLcXQR_uEcANJTz7Xw2fxX4dPDOz-v9c3dnKzN5xHWv9ssQH47eu9xjG_Kakg6E7Ta1mLzhyJy-2nx8-tJrxhmDFiFlRRL9c978/s320/Snow+Goose.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I birded a bit of some of town, and one pocket of willows and blackberries had some particularly bold birds. Wrentits are very common in this part of Oregon, near the northern limit of their historical range away from the outer coast. They love my whistled imitation.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieLnnwoOggr6jDtAaJ_NmRe0wX_kJ18x1QNXGBZ2mOBXII_QQHDSjtXnUOFyznYF2gEpMz3Wsb1zy2bl640-mubORyqxsCR08OYa1AuNk_xqWCjJ6Et6Nf55Je6G-2Vx3ZOJhN6xA0mTA/s1231/Wrentit.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1231" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieLnnwoOggr6jDtAaJ_NmRe0wX_kJ18x1QNXGBZ2mOBXII_QQHDSjtXnUOFyznYF2gEpMz3Wsb1zy2bl640-mubORyqxsCR08OYa1AuNk_xqWCjJ6Et6Nf55Je6G-2Vx3ZOJhN6xA0mTA/s320/Wrentit.jpeg" /></a></div><br />And this Anna’s Hummingbird was convinced that my pishing was something evil that needed vanquishing.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiujbAObcUaErp9JL7xaXwFBM9CsbhVRLvhz8docYW9BC66rux0gVvrk1XNxyzHQWVdtGx35JINSPMY2cdY9xv4BvBwEPaGtCMu9B94gvmRGtQztwDp6ZC5ZjFoddqKhiUGtzZdjmzvB3Q/s1331/Anna%2527s+Hummingbird.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1331" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiujbAObcUaErp9JL7xaXwFBM9CsbhVRLvhz8docYW9BC66rux0gVvrk1XNxyzHQWVdtGx35JINSPMY2cdY9xv4BvBwEPaGtCMu9B94gvmRGtQztwDp6ZC5ZjFoddqKhiUGtzZdjmzvB3Q/s320/Anna%2527s+Hummingbird.jpeg" /></a></div><br />After lunchtime I birded the western part of my area, including a bit of the Umpqua River Valley at its confluence with Calapooya Creek (different that the Calapooia River that is a tributary of the Willamette). I was too slow with my camera to get a good shot of the Golden Eagle that flew right over me, but I think this one actually captured the wing shape and bill shape that distinguish it from the much more common Bald Eagle.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGvCcxzYSsIVRP90aceZ8RvapVak7FokVbDzqNekhQUJQs72CMAekZjpaB5Suy76ZLuU-03izgUpJFVBCcu0cBbz6Kqtd42bvjrf8DfCzD9rvjRqnywbIzREgAR2ahChwi7u8zzrp_zeY/s1000/Golden+Eagle.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="466" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGvCcxzYSsIVRP90aceZ8RvapVak7FokVbDzqNekhQUJQs72CMAekZjpaB5Suy76ZLuU-03izgUpJFVBCcu0cBbz6Kqtd42bvjrf8DfCzD9rvjRqnywbIzREgAR2ahChwi7u8zzrp_zeY/s320/Golden+Eagle.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />At Umpqua Landing I noticed a row of planted true cedars (probably Deodar Cedar) whose trunks were littered with sapsucker wells. I did a bit of playback, and immediately a Red-breasted Sapsucker appeared. These are HIS trees, and I let him have them.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicP0ADdF0T6RSaLdezPYwYE7Q9FLWfm9j-TpwchYQ_Vpa9Pk5fkcF4_PXYUfEil0CbuzldwiZ0dM_juTW3zr-WzBNAL5kUlB20TzwnVrEmUDRw4O90b0G25Y3b0u5Dsicp_1NTuqEXvnU/s1315/Red-breasted+Sapsucker.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1315" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicP0ADdF0T6RSaLdezPYwYE7Q9FLWfm9j-TpwchYQ_Vpa9Pk5fkcF4_PXYUfEil0CbuzldwiZ0dM_juTW3zr-WzBNAL5kUlB20TzwnVrEmUDRw4O90b0G25Y3b0u5Dsicp_1NTuqEXvnU/s320/Red-breasted+Sapsucker.jpeg" /></a></div><br />Open fields near hillsides of Oregon White Oaks with mistletoe are the perfect place for Western Bluebirds. They can be surprisingly difficult to photograph well, but their blueness makes even a crappy photo like this take your breath away.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-oU7krMwKOo0XZepHhUy4XlEZscxehMWVujuVcbZk8L6gMcslQZnJ2Mh9RkTzDUL_UqFxInSU2GtebDmybp9qrM7H98gnIZiCkCIUhxOTesx6BhWexK9KuI-5XIqkBH8m0VEh-bF-9OE/s1126/Western+Bluebird.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1126" data-original-width="981" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-oU7krMwKOo0XZepHhUy4XlEZscxehMWVujuVcbZk8L6gMcslQZnJ2Mh9RkTzDUL_UqFxInSU2GtebDmybp9qrM7H98gnIZiCkCIUhxOTesx6BhWexK9KuI-5XIqkBH8m0VEh-bF-9OE/s320/Western+Bluebird.jpeg" /></a></div><br />I finished the day with 92 species, sorry only that I couldn’t share it with anyone at the time. Next year…<p></p>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-56747348060064298082020-12-16T15:50:00.002-08:002020-12-16T15:50:23.428-08:00Four Consecutive Days of Birding in Oregon<p> The weekend before last was a like a splurge of birding for me – I was out watching birds away from my north Eugene yard on four consecutive days. It pains me to imagine what rarities I missed adding to my yard list, but I had a memorable time. This spree was spurred essentially by a pelagic birding trip organized by Tim Shelmerdine’s Oregon Pelagic Tours, for which I’ve been on the waiting list for over a month. But with a week to go, I was notified that a space had opened up. So, with the Christmas Bird Count season coming up and social distancing still an important way to prevent viral spread, I rented a tiny car for an entire month.</p><p>Weather this time of year makes pelagic trips prone to cancelation, and that’s what happened to the October 24 trip. Luckily, this one on December 5th was declared a go, though the weather forecast was changing by the hour, and everyone was at least mentally prepared for a day’s delay. We got out to 32 miles, where the best bird activity was at a larger fishing boat that seemed to be hauling up traps. Huge numbers of Northern Fulmars, several kinds of gulls (mostly Glaucous-winged, California, and Herring), a few Black-legged Kittiwakes, and good numbers of Black-footed Albatross were after the bycatch that the crew flung overboard. Among the birds was a single Laysan Albatross, but it didn’t hang around for long. Here are just a few photos from that one spot.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBGpeQysCtAcc721w0EHoiRUkIXADa6wCnNwtgb-kS2deoNnO2eimdnnQ5gNGk0awL1Iy6a992JDuim3yShoTuvTLvhVSbRqXRvLpboPUbHQENILFvCMHVWF89wl4G7q1hieLpudeqz5E/s1000/Black-footed+Albatross+%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="903" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBGpeQysCtAcc721w0EHoiRUkIXADa6wCnNwtgb-kS2deoNnO2eimdnnQ5gNGk0awL1Iy6a992JDuim3yShoTuvTLvhVSbRqXRvLpboPUbHQENILFvCMHVWF89wl4G7q1hieLpudeqz5E/s320/Black-footed+Albatross+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black-footed Albatrosses, Northern Fulmars, and a few gulls</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoCv5sKNDKU3opKA_aeHx_7z7VMgIFn0KEp2aodnzQcE5MRh23aqwdht7iu1Yty-G6Ah4ifz6YM_qMiE3VZvMf5flWt-fg0xedLsXi-2nj9r5jV6Wo5OwtSwdAKtKpi434hTPw2JDdj28/s1206/Black-footed+Albatross+%25282%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1206" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoCv5sKNDKU3opKA_aeHx_7z7VMgIFn0KEp2aodnzQcE5MRh23aqwdht7iu1Yty-G6Ah4ifz6YM_qMiE3VZvMf5flWt-fg0xedLsXi-2nj9r5jV6Wo5OwtSwdAKtKpi434hTPw2JDdj28/s320/Black-footed+Albatross+%25282%2529.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black-footed Albatross and Glaucous-winged x Western Gull</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBf94taIcb1RrNR5-7zyqcpelHh6jmcEVO2yIijvETstqEMhY0VeN7dFWxuCSgBAYsLek1P1JUs0C2gV114ke7vwdZow_17NmMpeEFG8mO1iLZEsrxv6b26PmUO2aLkqH70BKHxMkdN5Y/s2048/Black-footed+Albatross+%25283%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1448" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBf94taIcb1RrNR5-7zyqcpelHh6jmcEVO2yIijvETstqEMhY0VeN7dFWxuCSgBAYsLek1P1JUs0C2gV114ke7vwdZow_17NmMpeEFG8mO1iLZEsrxv6b26PmUO2aLkqH70BKHxMkdN5Y/s320/Black-footed+Albatross+%25283%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black-footed Albatross</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigCwZkjdOEzACQBYpVNCzkKzdqIXJFDnImvRqAzMzB94KmEufdYycNmizKx7DnruPgCo04guM9K-B4sGtNzxG5TGiDsl9qT1-zMHAJXDg9jzc8rnw3ZSMLt_5j3D6suVwowkhyXYCHkmU/s1000/Black-footed+Albatross+%25284%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="516" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigCwZkjdOEzACQBYpVNCzkKzdqIXJFDnImvRqAzMzB94KmEufdYycNmizKx7DnruPgCo04guM9K-B4sGtNzxG5TGiDsl9qT1-zMHAJXDg9jzc8rnw3ZSMLt_5j3D6suVwowkhyXYCHkmU/s320/Black-footed+Albatross+%25284%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black-footed Albatross<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>I stayed over at my dad’s in Corvallis that night, and the next morning went up to Marys Peak with my friend Hendrik. The weather was amazing, and in conditions like this, the highest point in the Coast Range in Oregon is always a lovely place to be.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8jvdhAOW-D62A3iqL4zicDKnLKGhkLomGoSE8cLMeVh65luOI0RwYSe3ad6rDCalpLqMsguno71gZKapSaR21IIbVrzZKMPFXEqi-8N3bI5P1gd2sOWM33Vtn4Vgc6VcFxgEYeVUxt6E/s1000/Marys+Peak+Scenery+%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8jvdhAOW-D62A3iqL4zicDKnLKGhkLomGoSE8cLMeVh65luOI0RwYSe3ad6rDCalpLqMsguno71gZKapSaR21IIbVrzZKMPFXEqi-8N3bI5P1gd2sOWM33Vtn4Vgc6VcFxgEYeVUxt6E/s320/Marys+Peak+Scenery+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggl1fD9vHicwuJFl8hdZ53_OspYNmYSo8cRKColCp42yJdCNd3MSG7R2mXKbUTLSQK8VF3_kEYCrKo7FT3KcD8V4b7KdVragG_nUWSYtJkCsxEcgxEOXyWTF5iNjYM_i87necAFoUq3qE/s1000/Marys+Peak+Scenery.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggl1fD9vHicwuJFl8hdZ53_OspYNmYSo8cRKColCp42yJdCNd3MSG7R2mXKbUTLSQK8VF3_kEYCrKo7FT3KcD8V4b7KdVragG_nUWSYtJkCsxEcgxEOXyWTF5iNjYM_i87necAFoUq3qE/s320/Marys+Peak+Scenery.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's not every year in early December when the road to Marys Peak is still open and you're greeted with gorgeous weather.</td></tr></tbody></table><p>We were really hoping to connect with a couple vagrants that have been reported in recent weeks, namely White-winged Crossbill and Black-backed Woodpecker, neither of which were documented by photos or sound recorded and haven’t been relocated since. Hendrik’s first attempt to re-find them resulted in his discovery of Pine Grosbeaks, which I also really wanted to see as it would be a state bird for me, but none of these birds seemed to be around in the late morning. We did see the 15 Gray-crowned Rosy-Finches at the top, and a Northern Pygmy-Owl at the parking lot was nice to see.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxy7Uv9ZYpRyfM9p4-vByokZbrfjMKDKPzc85qQd5J-m2oJcE_6fsU_O5FkSuT0DCa_igquIlzlf2Y_2ltoKHh-V29fBB6B-2wWx7RMctV-lbRU_IaV6hSZ5NYFODwZVtZOQenfw_8rBE/s1000/Gray-crowned+Rosy-Finch+%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="889" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxy7Uv9ZYpRyfM9p4-vByokZbrfjMKDKPzc85qQd5J-m2oJcE_6fsU_O5FkSuT0DCa_igquIlzlf2Y_2ltoKHh-V29fBB6B-2wWx7RMctV-lbRU_IaV6hSZ5NYFODwZVtZOQenfw_8rBE/s320/Gray-crowned+Rosy-Finch+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gray-crowned Rosy-Finch</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1nYw3eUrM0hy-3Ns6poP68Iw0ev_pmGBmL5c_DTRGv7fOd-qCtpPqJA9Z_WkORR0zqKYQfbClsutVNxZHQfgikWdBmTdQEXQXTy0dm6LT3MwuBX3MmIzNy1APwKjgmS-kagK5aVb2Auc/s1000/Gray-crowned+Rosy-Finch+%25282%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="874" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1nYw3eUrM0hy-3Ns6poP68Iw0ev_pmGBmL5c_DTRGv7fOd-qCtpPqJA9Z_WkORR0zqKYQfbClsutVNxZHQfgikWdBmTdQEXQXTy0dm6LT3MwuBX3MmIzNy1APwKjgmS-kagK5aVb2Auc/s320/Gray-crowned+Rosy-Finch+%25282%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gray-crowned Rosy-Finch</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU47iSLnP3uFq2nZ2dql0V9_2dsvOACqDSwCR80moNY-MkuwdLtV6LGrigJw5uytGWgz8BfjCyqR4sB7f-Vh_8u2auzhY7fGGFy17ntZ0SW9XWJZfFlO_H68Av0oiA6G6_Pxc0slb5dMw/s1104/Northern+Pygmy-Owl+%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1104" data-original-width="872" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU47iSLnP3uFq2nZ2dql0V9_2dsvOACqDSwCR80moNY-MkuwdLtV6LGrigJw5uytGWgz8BfjCyqR4sB7f-Vh_8u2auzhY7fGGFy17ntZ0SW9XWJZfFlO_H68Av0oiA6G6_Pxc0slb5dMw/s320/Northern+Pygmy-Owl+%25281%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Northern Pygmy-Owl. Presumably the fake eye spots on the back of the head discourage mobbing birds from hitting it from behind.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU47iSLnP3uFq2nZ2dql0V9_2dsvOACqDSwCR80moNY-MkuwdLtV6LGrigJw5uytGWgz8BfjCyqR4sB7f-Vh_8u2auzhY7fGGFy17ntZ0SW9XWJZfFlO_H68Av0oiA6G6_Pxc0slb5dMw/s1104/Northern+Pygmy-Owl+%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGsbm3XHJ6kRGWNLKd4Y3CJPUaso4i7dYYKcv9wpnTaaQweqAP-EVkxeaUCCVKxP7yG7328ZNTCMsTOvSzLp6d6Qc1TvgQQ8IdYcajO89Ea5j2TBNWdIjiUC2PMbp5UClgIaXXAw0A9JE/s1313/Northern+Pygmy-Owl+%25282%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1313" data-original-width="929" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGsbm3XHJ6kRGWNLKd4Y3CJPUaso4i7dYYKcv9wpnTaaQweqAP-EVkxeaUCCVKxP7yG7328ZNTCMsTOvSzLp6d6Qc1TvgQQ8IdYcajO89Ea5j2TBNWdIjiUC2PMbp5UClgIaXXAw0A9JE/s320/Northern+Pygmy-Owl+%25282%2529.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Northern Pygmy-Owl</td></tr></tbody></table><p>After Marys Peak, Hendrik and I continued to Dawson Road in the southern part of Benton County to look for reported Ferruginous Hawks, but it was too calm and sunny, and the field, though full of hawks (it’s a banner year for voles in the Willamette Valley), was beset by a heat shimmer that made anything beyond 300 yards practically unidentifiable. Most of the bird were much farther than that, though we managed to pick out a few Rough-legs, Red-tails, and of course the constantly flying Northern Harriers.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQW1BHMtBwSILStTpZZhgftl48vJR6gcNCV5GfiLLRfFk8iKD7CyoA3PsFNVfEGOPqLZTtDDSl6IpL373T803-8wuYt00iXKHhf7PUjUlREKfbEBeS2NUocisjLKcK48H39vVn1SI3Aeg/s520/Rough-legged+Hawk+%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="497" data-original-width="520" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQW1BHMtBwSILStTpZZhgftl48vJR6gcNCV5GfiLLRfFk8iKD7CyoA3PsFNVfEGOPqLZTtDDSl6IpL373T803-8wuYt00iXKHhf7PUjUlREKfbEBeS2NUocisjLKcK48H39vVn1SI3Aeg/s320/Rough-legged+Hawk+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rough-legged Hawk</td></tr></tbody></table><p>I decided to stay another night in Corvallis and work my way back to Eugene via the Oregon coast, for a third day of birding. Little did I know that I would be spending the entire day birding in just Lincoln County, but you know that time flies when you’re having fun. I checked spots in Newport and Nye Beach known to have hosted passerine vagrants in past years, then north to Devils Punchbowl State Park, a little headland offering some seawatching as well as the small community of Otter Rock with a chance of some stray land birds. A Rock Sandpiper below the parking lot, hanging out with Black Oystercatcher and Black Turnstones was good to see.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh12YioUaDbTEJ8usLUU-oi7oGUqeYiAniBKt4ucv4RCHemOyLKTJxOE8zfC1qhjvyQiKV_ClgNvow8DunW4zBY9U8d2C4oswPtoLciPWAlSAMor_EbYg1ZsQSeu9RN4r2YrgJ-hBmmbqo/s1000/Black+Oystercatcher.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="993" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh12YioUaDbTEJ8usLUU-oi7oGUqeYiAniBKt4ucv4RCHemOyLKTJxOE8zfC1qhjvyQiKV_ClgNvow8DunW4zBY9U8d2C4oswPtoLciPWAlSAMor_EbYg1ZsQSeu9RN4r2YrgJ-hBmmbqo/s320/Black+Oystercatcher.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black Oystercatcher</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW-Vn3gGUn2iRHnlfFyONPLjfqLVBmrQ1IpZeFvjlmISvyCbFFzo8djMN6ASUMxcVYYf_1y2zmQCdcnWfRDpgZcNaQHmDBovQ0-BHClKowpe7_Dmj_3QJLK1otiyQAnEwM5PUtLDsY5us/s703/Rock+Sandpiper.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="530" data-original-width="703" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW-Vn3gGUn2iRHnlfFyONPLjfqLVBmrQ1IpZeFvjlmISvyCbFFzo8djMN6ASUMxcVYYf_1y2zmQCdcnWfRDpgZcNaQHmDBovQ0-BHClKowpe7_Dmj_3QJLK1otiyQAnEwM5PUtLDsY5us/s320/Rock+Sandpiper.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rock Sandpiper</td></tr></tbody></table><p>The neighborhood was full of birds, and Anna’s Hummingbirds were especially abundant. My best find was an immature Rufous Hummingbird. In all honesty, I can’t 100% rule out Allen’s Hummingbird, but that would be a million times rarer, and I’d only be tempted to call it that if the bird had obviously narrow outer tail feathers and some rufous edging in the rump. I think one of my photos actually shows the little indentation near the tip of R2, the second-innermost tail feather, which is a good feature for Rufous Hummingbird as well.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH0R1E0wSRrhUtaY2RMt1veXvldtDqk_Qk97eKwomHsxtlN3duQMsA2k-lWep2iUMlgX90lPfjIY0IL-aVwcv6zbrOINZyAWQ59oY_s_S9PDCZO4kYkf4gTvT1NBK-GboxWbJ7o7ADOrE/s1157/Rufous+Hummingbird+%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="877" data-original-width="1157" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH0R1E0wSRrhUtaY2RMt1veXvldtDqk_Qk97eKwomHsxtlN3duQMsA2k-lWep2iUMlgX90lPfjIY0IL-aVwcv6zbrOINZyAWQ59oY_s_S9PDCZO4kYkf4gTvT1NBK-GboxWbJ7o7ADOrE/s320/Rufous+Hummingbird+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">presumed Rufous Hummmingbird</td></tr></tbody></table><p>Another interesting bird I found was this sapsucker, which is at least mostly Red-breasted Sapsucker. The locally breeding (nominate) subspecies has a solid red head with none of these black areas or white lines, and this bird superficially looks like the ones that breed in the southern Cascades south through California, subspecies <i>daggetti</i>. That would seem very unlikely, and my guess is now that this is actually a hybrid (or intergrade) of our nominate subspecies with Red-naped Sapsucker, a combination that seems to be rather common and would originate anywhere on the east side of the Cascades of Oregon, Washington, or British Columbia. These birds surely have some southbound migratory movements.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPfF8rDoDYXT7xR-fSzsRNDUKi-f1OZFW-sTyrHYdFiD7kQfaFCUALgPz050XEIACZYAUW3UybrdUxWc-UnlM7cYXJeJYDpLDuqQRVOaeW__BVM0MZZU0svOqLBH5qwcntbAZGPL9iSCA/s2148/Red-breasted+Sapsucker.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2148" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPfF8rDoDYXT7xR-fSzsRNDUKi-f1OZFW-sTyrHYdFiD7kQfaFCUALgPz050XEIACZYAUW3UybrdUxWc-UnlM7cYXJeJYDpLDuqQRVOaeW__BVM0MZZU0svOqLBH5qwcntbAZGPL9iSCA/s320/Red-breasted+Sapsucker.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">sapsucker sp., quite possibly nominate Red-breasted x Red-naped</td></tr></tbody></table><p>I made a few stops on the outer coast as I worked south towards Florence, but the pounding surf had created a salty fog-like mist at every viewpoint. I always like to check the gulls bathing in the mouth of Beaver Creek at Ona Beach State Park, and this is where I spotted this Iceland Gull (formerly split as Thayer’s Gull).</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx6WKsi8hm8LcPv54KgHq_U8x9xDpo5oJD5Y3ftTMBhHtlGLMCfR5JTt1SWLZEVvrlyiVuJ1NHQlxge_KVU9lXVOdaVJpHIu4HAtdzgMBLuHf_aDoonHEiTjp5xSrDIdpW1wBLs2uHmJU/s1441/Iceland+Gull+%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1441" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx6WKsi8hm8LcPv54KgHq_U8x9xDpo5oJD5Y3ftTMBhHtlGLMCfR5JTt1SWLZEVvrlyiVuJ1NHQlxge_KVU9lXVOdaVJpHIu4HAtdzgMBLuHf_aDoonHEiTjp5xSrDIdpW1wBLs2uHmJU/s320/Iceland+Gull+%25281%2529.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Thayer's" Iceland Gull</td></tr></tbody></table><p>Unusually confiding was this native cottontail, the Brush Rabbit, <i>Sylvilagus bachmani</i>. Interestingly, this mammal has the almost the exact same distribution and biogeography as the Wrentit, even matching the Columbia River as the utter delimitation of its northernmost distribution. (There are a few erroneous iNaturalist submissions from Washington that I’ve attempted to correct.)</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgg_6H1_6XjfwW9khFbssmqCbkeelrq08nLVX_IhB64j3BGpdbROuKh53IFGenW0HieOYk9dB5x4J2yFYe4BSqpkecyO1hV_s-Xrnsfwe10nLo8jcccJXpywFnOzBvWURejeYDUT_IR0o/s1000/Sylvilagus+bachmani.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="938" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgg_6H1_6XjfwW9khFbssmqCbkeelrq08nLVX_IhB64j3BGpdbROuKh53IFGenW0HieOYk9dB5x4J2yFYe4BSqpkecyO1hV_s-Xrnsfwe10nLo8jcccJXpywFnOzBvWURejeYDUT_IR0o/s320/Sylvilagus+bachmani.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Brush Rabbit, </span><i style="text-align: left;">Sylvilagus bachmani</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p>My last stop was in Yachats, where a lot of humans found the pounding and frothy surf to be particularly attractive. I was pleased to spot a lone Bonaparte’s Gull working the foam for tidbits and found a flock of about 90 Surfbirds on the rocky ledges. Scattered here and there were Black Turnstones, this one doing its own thing well above the waves.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQc8-jX-96xWDpNGD4Xj5ntXqM-op6WG86OtdWSVO8KTV94rGWcGSvxi7hZQKSUKB5J2ejwurlngCVxovnRtvO0S0O_kjx4bNEywozrmXzkPzckaEonxleAjW9pTzPOvUDi1lu1fILjzM/s1000/Black+Turnstone.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="861" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQc8-jX-96xWDpNGD4Xj5ntXqM-op6WG86OtdWSVO8KTV94rGWcGSvxi7hZQKSUKB5J2ejwurlngCVxovnRtvO0S0O_kjx4bNEywozrmXzkPzckaEonxleAjW9pTzPOvUDi1lu1fILjzM/s320/Black+Turnstone.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black Turnstone</td></tr></tbody></table><p>When I got home that day, I read about reports of Pine Grosbeaks being relocated on Marys Peak, and it seems that like previous reports, getting up there early was the trick. So I left home at 6:00 a.m. for my fourth day of birding, arriving just after the start of civil twilight. And before it was light enough to see well, I heard the distinctive call of a Pine Grosbeak. For the next 40 minutes, I heard one off and on, sometimes even hearing wings hitting the needles of firs, Douglas-firs, and hemlocks. Finally, only after another birder (my friend Stefan Schlick from Portland) arrived did we hear them call repeatedly, and then we spotted them on top of a distant Douglas-fir. A while later, just after more birders arrived, they flew over the road and landed in another Douglas-fir right next to the parking lot, and five of us then enjoyed prolonged views of four birds nibbling on needles. This is an extraordinarily rare bird in western Oregon, but it’s a huge finch year in interior North America, and there’s a good chance these birds came from that huge exodus out of Canada.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDanyQCqfQX0E1tE_MXq4iKucQ2wsKrFP7Un7ibmpzRvwOsGJ0VPou1yNkxBoLryb9YguBa37S51nE5vcQKL4rT39n1wi0kc1CbNHzuRHiz2XDhMVkhfXscbNUDEtX02Snn2loGLn8o-A/s1574/Pine+Grosbeak.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1574" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDanyQCqfQX0E1tE_MXq4iKucQ2wsKrFP7Un7ibmpzRvwOsGJ0VPou1yNkxBoLryb9YguBa37S51nE5vcQKL4rT39n1wi0kc1CbNHzuRHiz2XDhMVkhfXscbNUDEtX02Snn2loGLn8o-A/s320/Pine+Grosbeak.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three of the four Pine Grosbeaks</td></tr></tbody></table><p>There were more birds in Benton County that would be new for my ancient and limping county list, so I drove down the mountain to the Philomath Sewage Ponds, where it appears I missed seeing the Tufted Duck by just four days, though it had been seen almost daily for the past three weeks. However, I did finally catch up with Tricolored Blackbird, a rare bird anywhere in western Oregon, though one to a few have been found here in winter every year for some time (but all since I had moved to Arizona).</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8hQeQ86WTV85ynG18sXSewCo9P-c3JZvfofAULegWv8Hyn_8OomB75Zt-KKZyGFu4wJhm6lg0MN-mVf6J33C9DOMxi-vDwog86oAWhaIcfgKVBlVkFeBR-k3NXq_qLuFSugNFV4vS8lY/s1000/Tricolored+Blackbird+%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="754" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8hQeQ86WTV85ynG18sXSewCo9P-c3JZvfofAULegWv8Hyn_8OomB75Zt-KKZyGFu4wJhm6lg0MN-mVf6J33C9DOMxi-vDwog86oAWhaIcfgKVBlVkFeBR-k3NXq_qLuFSugNFV4vS8lY/s320/Tricolored+Blackbird+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tricolored Blackbird. Note the very slender bill and blood-red epaulet edged with white</td></tr></tbody></table><p>The sparrow patch here has been faithfully seeded by several birders over the years, though this morning there wasn’t much. When I pulled up in my car, there were only a couple Song Sparrows and no seed. They heard me coming though, and I was prepared with a bag of seed in the car. Within moments of my scattering a few handfuls, there were more Golden-crowned, White-crowned, Song, and Fox Sparrows than I could count, and a covey of California Quail also came right in.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd5cERE61hBE0-QjV8C34bCXKnrCeiN88Q4oQzMptrPKlpoxby_THh569mtLcyZQopQEjXD1Ox3_nSG49jAY7X-tdDG83eX0hM2O6qoZWWtaG7SdekwNRtW4ZsPfUtz0meWdgZI_7_WzA/s1000/California+Quail.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="698" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd5cERE61hBE0-QjV8C34bCXKnrCeiN88Q4oQzMptrPKlpoxby_THh569mtLcyZQopQEjXD1Ox3_nSG49jAY7X-tdDG83eX0hM2O6qoZWWtaG7SdekwNRtW4ZsPfUtz0meWdgZI_7_WzA/s320/California+Quail.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">California Quail</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEW1AmhRHPfu1JW5A_r33POSrQFOUHozbLnYmWGLiR23Om7_wGSRP0jrb8fViDBk8lgdtxzywj-odyEOn6YS7-9p3qtK8QlBjJnEd__Xfv0X0NyMkimdxPQtcbVgnPtx4E0-SqtHd1Mxc/s1000/Fox+Sparrow.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="586" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEW1AmhRHPfu1JW5A_r33POSrQFOUHozbLnYmWGLiR23Om7_wGSRP0jrb8fViDBk8lgdtxzywj-odyEOn6YS7-9p3qtK8QlBjJnEd__Xfv0X0NyMkimdxPQtcbVgnPtx4E0-SqtHd1Mxc/s320/Fox+Sparrow.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fox Sparrow</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXhK0dm8LYb4Qcr24hnZdg3EwjxZh5RZ4_RmF_TFpnefs-AvhS0taOH_4aRNH1HIQZ8ig2G0DfmPvC5bXNNrqfhM4cw0PVYRd6k-MdqEVc9AHu1nVRAia3ZYyuRXDGkuWEv-MXOka3CKc/s1140/Golden-crowned+Sparrow.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1140" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXhK0dm8LYb4Qcr24hnZdg3EwjxZh5RZ4_RmF_TFpnefs-AvhS0taOH_4aRNH1HIQZ8ig2G0DfmPvC5bXNNrqfhM4cw0PVYRd6k-MdqEVc9AHu1nVRAia3ZYyuRXDGkuWEv-MXOka3CKc/s320/Golden-crowned+Sparrow.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Golden-crowned Sparrow</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC6WGz8mBHG3LsVtMCiDWEOG0cdxBJUQ3n119ZGRlU-Oo5h_MehPn8F4Hv26Mj8AHDPJEfHRcOdTspQzrfhU0L-pRbYf7jVLuoaYT0IMi9BmUuAf6IVT-sR8lBwN7op6IRAmMWaLvgckA/s1000/White-crowned+Sparrow+%25282%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="841" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC6WGz8mBHG3LsVtMCiDWEOG0cdxBJUQ3n119ZGRlU-Oo5h_MehPn8F4Hv26Mj8AHDPJEfHRcOdTspQzrfhU0L-pRbYf7jVLuoaYT0IMi9BmUuAf6IVT-sR8lBwN7op6IRAmMWaLvgckA/s320/White-crowned+Sparrow+%25282%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">White-crowned Sparrow</td></tr></tbody></table><p>The fog was starting to finally clear nicely, so I headed back down to Dawson Road on my way home and found one of the Ferruginous Hawks quite close to the road. It went after a vole, probably caught it, and then flew to a line of Oregon Ash trees to the north, where I watched it in the scope for several minutes. This species has occurred in Benton County only a few times; the last was in 1997, and before that 1990, and I didn’t see either of those birds. This winter there were three seen in one day (two in this field and one by the airport), as well as one just a few miles east of here in Linn County, a truly unprecedented number for this short-distance migrant that typically prefers much drier climes and more treeless regions.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWjuRGAgG81tXKahL2I_oTkone5QXmTjvvl30GreOh8xdrlq9-uwPUBIu9IlY0VWz1dRl-LfRueplJJS-ZE9JEOIg58-p-7wccqs3y6J13kT67SQf2vQ1aWUBCVlZ7ieJ4rSgII9NpDkc/s501/Ferruginous+Hawk+%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="390" data-original-width="501" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWjuRGAgG81tXKahL2I_oTkone5QXmTjvvl30GreOh8xdrlq9-uwPUBIu9IlY0VWz1dRl-LfRueplJJS-ZE9JEOIg58-p-7wccqs3y6J13kT67SQf2vQ1aWUBCVlZ7ieJ4rSgII9NpDkc/s320/Ferruginous+Hawk+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ferruginous Hawk. The rusty wash on the shoulders is visible here, as are the distinctive patterns of white in the wing and tail.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvupCzNOOYLMAhyXfSFvgha9Lb2VXMm4Ne4-QKLp8Grzkogu7AcVnYqHFxe5jO7c93T8OEp0DrvCzoEOiexZz1HL6jE4Y5jOOgHBLTwK-_Qhi4-UkwN7lh1LII5JQw-X81vF8O4RzZ3ZM/s547/Ferruginous+Hawk+%25282%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="547" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvupCzNOOYLMAhyXfSFvgha9Lb2VXMm4Ne4-QKLp8Grzkogu7AcVnYqHFxe5jO7c93T8OEp0DrvCzoEOiexZz1HL6jE4Y5jOOgHBLTwK-_Qhi4-UkwN7lh1LII5JQw-X81vF8O4RzZ3ZM/s320/Ferruginous+Hawk+%25282%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ferruginous Hawk. A much more massive head and bill than Rough-legged Hawk</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNpJI7w2QzLr5CHhpD9doxalndx2s27maJ92F1Z5Y9otuntVQrmkPk57-P5tKOwc38AMKqB8tgDqc9fl8QOmBaAY-oGOqhRqTJP-djgj_orJEjT676AnFhAMkTM_cv047LFwSqgIG3a9c/s783/Ferruginous+Hawk+%25285%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="783" data-original-width="553" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNpJI7w2QzLr5CHhpD9doxalndx2s27maJ92F1Z5Y9otuntVQrmkPk57-P5tKOwc38AMKqB8tgDqc9fl8QOmBaAY-oGOqhRqTJP-djgj_orJEjT676AnFhAMkTM_cv047LFwSqgIG3a9c/s320/Ferruginous+Hawk+%25285%2529.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ferruginous Hawk. The gape that extends to the rear edge of the eye is barely visible in this photo.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><div><br /></div><p></p>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2578555892697401095.post-35840001062327311202020-12-02T20:30:00.001-08:002020-12-03T09:30:30.096-08:00Oregon in Late Summer WINGS Tour<div class="separator"><br /></div><div>Recently I’ve had some not-so-subtle hints from friends that it’s been a long time since I’ve posted to my blog. I’ve been staying quite busy, and the garden has occupied a huge amount of that time (including putting up the produce), but there’s certainly no lack of bloggable topics from my little corner of paradise: lots of plant updates, interesting insects, and a burgeoning bird list. However, the meat of my blogging is usually my trips, and as you might imagine, I haven’t been traveling much, with five of my tours canceled over the summer.</div><div><br /></div><div>But I actually did lead a tour recently – my Oregon in Late Summer tour. This was the first WINGS tour to go since the pandemic shut everything down in March. The protocols were easier to follow with only four participants, all masked up in the van (mostly – I forgot sometimes when nursing a warm thermos of coffee) and as many meals outdoors as possible. I even prepared three meals at home in the days before the tour began, froze everything, and then brought it along in a new Yeti cooler and packed it with dry ice. On day 10, some of the food I brought out of the cooler was still partially frozen! I also bought a fancy two-burner propane camp stove and packed a lot of kitchenware. I’m not sure we would have been able to confirm that tour were it to be happening now, with such a surge of covid-19 as I write this in early December, but back in August and September, cases here in Oregon were actually still quite low, and no state was reporting a very big surge in cases.</div><div><br /></div><div>Below is my day-by-day summary of the tour, with added photos.</div><div><br /></div><div>======</div><div><b>Summary</b></div><div>The Oregon in Late Summer tour was like a breath of fresh air after nearly a half-year of restricted travel. Well, at least the first half of the tour had fresh air, and then smoke from forest fires from all directions was at least evident in the hazy horizon most places we went and barely tolerable the past couple of days. We were very lucky to be far from any fire’s direct path and were not forced to make any deviations from our planned routes. Having not led any tours since March, I was reminded what a joy it is to show off my home state and its birds to a group of passionate, appreciative, and grateful participants. There was no agreement among anyone’s top three favorite birds, though the birding east of the Cascades provided most of the memorable sightings:</div><div><br /></div><div><div>Mountain Bluebird</div><div>Canyon Wren</div><div>Rufous Hummingbird</div><div>Black Rosy-Finch</div><div>Prairie Falcon</div><div>Sagebrush Sparrow</div><div>Summer Tanager</div><div>Prairie Falcon</div><div>Flammulated Owl</div><div>Fox Sparrow (Slate-colored)</div><div>Red-naped Sapsucker</div><div>Ferruginous Hawk</div></div><div><br /></div><div>It was clear we were having a fabulous time every moment during the tour, and it was a sad moment when I realized we were at the end of tour so quickly. I briefly became a bit emotional when it hit me how much I had enjoyed being a tour leader and didn't know how long it would be before I would be able to do this again.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>September 1</b></div><div>Weather was wonderful every day of the tour, especially that gorgeous first morning which we started in the greater Portland area. After a picnic breakfast at a Tigard City Park, where Pileated Woodpecker and the western White-breasted Nuthatch were some of the good sightings, we met up with two of the area’s top birders at Tualatin River National Wildlife Refuge, my close friends Shawneen Finnegan and Craig Tumer. They had staked out a Baird’s Sandpiper for us, while flocks of Violet-green Swallows flew overhead, Lesser Goldfinches fed on the weeds below the viewing area, and a Wilson’s Snipe fed furtively at the mud’s edge. We then checked the bird-filled Ankeny National Wildlife Refuge (which just six weeks later would host the state’s second record of Wood Sandpiper) and had lunch after a unique ride on the Buena Vista Ferry across the Willamette River.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCDbsNDVS1Wyxx_JCElD-0ZqSPabFkrFW2tKWO7R8GLup7P2OHCdW-rbw6xEnLOaAb3wEeHAQxyigxjmbZkr5LOONgFcAxcFRcis4m7bSpphutv6WurvDK2_U0ZJGcFTsCIqjVilDWXfk/s1000/Ankeny+NWR.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCDbsNDVS1Wyxx_JCElD-0ZqSPabFkrFW2tKWO7R8GLup7P2OHCdW-rbw6xEnLOaAb3wEeHAQxyigxjmbZkr5LOONgFcAxcFRcis4m7bSpphutv6WurvDK2_U0ZJGcFTsCIqjVilDWXfk/s320/Ankeny+NWR.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ankeny National Wildlife Refuge</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>There were just a couple of birding stops in the afternoon, one just barely still in Polk County at Luckiamute Landing where there was a flurry of activity, including a Western Screech-Owl tooting back from across the creek and a pair of riled up Red-breasted Sapsuckers who probably had an established personal relationship with that owl and were ready to take on this new one (my whistle).</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQktpo2aZmbMibP6XV6_5_9h9TVVkm3b9Yf0nKhvGRV0uXhZ5kajglLXzbwWJlPotQEzKyhz9c4KTB_FXE3YL_IqbX037sIElOtZNB-zLWNnnn2Vs8KA6rQ2C9P8HrKZoiXnba_4X4msw/s1000/Melanoplus+femurrubrum.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="736" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQktpo2aZmbMibP6XV6_5_9h9TVVkm3b9Yf0nKhvGRV0uXhZ5kajglLXzbwWJlPotQEzKyhz9c4KTB_FXE3YL_IqbX037sIElOtZNB-zLWNnnn2Vs8KA6rQ2C9P8HrKZoiXnba_4X4msw/s320/Melanoplus+femurrubrum.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red-legged Grasshopper, <i>Melanoplus femurrubrum</i> at Luckiamute Landing</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTQuOYiz3wXwStHw-SAlfWlyu9RFl3ha3vlZ9EA_p2Vf4iChKWZtuI2vWe8T_w0hV8PGqDZHJemYt-t6QcYd0KoX7wKSXhfNUnSJ7VGeczacfg49ApRO5igRxTjlD8yHGhDM18ZTdDN8o/s1000/Aeshna+umbrosa.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="817" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTQuOYiz3wXwStHw-SAlfWlyu9RFl3ha3vlZ9EA_p2Vf4iChKWZtuI2vWe8T_w0hV8PGqDZHJemYt-t6QcYd0KoX7wKSXhfNUnSJ7VGeczacfg49ApRO5igRxTjlD8yHGhDM18ZTdDN8o/s320/Aeshna+umbrosa.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shadow Darner, <i>Aeshna umbrosa</i> at Luckiamute Landing</td></tr></tbody></table><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTQuOYiz3wXwStHw-SAlfWlyu9RFl3ha3vlZ9EA_p2Vf4iChKWZtuI2vWe8T_w0hV8PGqDZHJemYt-t6QcYd0KoX7wKSXhfNUnSJ7VGeczacfg49ApRO5igRxTjlD8yHGhDM18ZTdDN8o/s1000/Aeshna+umbrosa.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br /><div>The other stop was a slam-dunk Acorn Woodpecker oak grove in Adair Village before we finished the day with a stop at the Philomath Sewage Ponds.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8RSDlIHtte5uV8O8nrskcgcjtrVHoxPUQICQ9ZDRMwLZ8hpZIS68J4J2qQ2EewrXd_JL4cy1IoM8TLmL2VN5CbfF10ag5_TdDSW-evzEkzLsRShPv8nf56z6ZJDQtoOLKUcMGLLM4ufY/s1000/Enallagma+carunculatum.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="810" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8RSDlIHtte5uV8O8nrskcgcjtrVHoxPUQICQ9ZDRMwLZ8hpZIS68J4J2qQ2EewrXd_JL4cy1IoM8TLmL2VN5CbfF10ag5_TdDSW-evzEkzLsRShPv8nf56z6ZJDQtoOLKUcMGLLM4ufY/s320/Enallagma+carunculatum.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tule Bluet, <i>Enallagma carunculatum</i> at Philomath Sewage Ponds<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiBJYR6zwcWIW8SCyIcgOF8ojIc_hZAJxV_MenTTEFP9Y5L0edYZTb4XW4xbCvj3Syl_JTfBh6yD4byj546debsWX5UBV4TMh2W7jhfmxveSrd15XctIoommqizYmJXzd8f50FRkxLaLs/s1000/Greater+Yellowlegs.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="887" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiBJYR6zwcWIW8SCyIcgOF8ojIc_hZAJxV_MenTTEFP9Y5L0edYZTb4XW4xbCvj3Syl_JTfBh6yD4byj546debsWX5UBV4TMh2W7jhfmxveSrd15XctIoommqizYmJXzd8f50FRkxLaLs/s320/Greater+Yellowlegs.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Greater Yellowlegs at Philomath Sewage Ponds</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><b>September 2</b></div><div>The morning on top of Marys Peak was outstanding. The skies were still quite clear, and we could see north to Mount Rainier in Washington. Strangely, all galliform birds evaded us, and perhaps it was the large numbers of cars on the road to see sunrise and a full moon set from this perfect spot that kept the quail and grouse at bay. We had our first Varied Thrushes on the drive up, Band-tailed Pigeons were near the top, and a very confiding group of Western Bluebirds fed around the parking lot as we had breakfast. Scenery at the top is almost always amazing:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5OkzadCVqMKAh8acZt3ZnnrpkpOIhL7DRoUhRIgnR7lky394ZOf4S_75o0CWR7mXm6XktDr5rl6KvhAAb4DZ_k0kty-yEkeIxhL1Fzg6oInr6IYH5DMqfAjp195dVAhU8XfED-QujQgM/s2048/Marys+Peak+Scenery+%25281%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5OkzadCVqMKAh8acZt3ZnnrpkpOIhL7DRoUhRIgnR7lky394ZOf4S_75o0CWR7mXm6XktDr5rl6KvhAAb4DZ_k0kty-yEkeIxhL1Fzg6oInr6IYH5DMqfAjp195dVAhU8XfED-QujQgM/s320/Marys+Peak+Scenery+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQFGsNC0IXwEGnS2oWgTM6BsQCjtA25VTwedAIvYZMPznOlrzyFOUIMtObon571kNGEEudyopSxgvOprimPX1fG1augt_S1pmpi7zACxsPxf8wlD6jYwQerd7yNVrZtyTGMbe_m7HrVKs/s2048/Marys+Peak+Scenery.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQFGsNC0IXwEGnS2oWgTM6BsQCjtA25VTwedAIvYZMPznOlrzyFOUIMtObon571kNGEEudyopSxgvOprimPX1fG1augt_S1pmpi7zACxsPxf8wlD6jYwQerd7yNVrZtyTGMbe_m7HrVKs/s320/Marys+Peak+Scenery.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikrusEubc_k_EZJuOuBBSLy6g3qGOmTpNJjESvq5we13498HG5b9qAgQJSOvP7trBOnaQ7qnRGkmRqasEeN7VxgH98agaT-BTfb1Lg3F19Yhx0CJBvWkw73dTEzL8egrSGZWUXApBeRSM/s2048/Yaquina+Bay+Bridge+from+Marys+Peak.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikrusEubc_k_EZJuOuBBSLy6g3qGOmTpNJjESvq5we13498HG5b9qAgQJSOvP7trBOnaQ7qnRGkmRqasEeN7VxgH98agaT-BTfb1Lg3F19Yhx0CJBvWkw73dTEzL8egrSGZWUXApBeRSM/s320/Yaquina+Bay+Bridge+from+Marys+Peak.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Yaquina Bay Bridge at Newport from Marys Peak, 26.17 miles away<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTf12WZ0jokv4fwpJrHEHvC7YMXuhDfaDlVSjKvGcUQcaNYZdkBp9zdXoG8u68BbupogmyEWy6elvxN6YWx4W8ExgkLiVCPRpQ7YfrPn112WbHX9Po_UyJxvUTqZR-oeysncx9el_LiWQ/s1000/Bombus+appositus.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="961" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTf12WZ0jokv4fwpJrHEHvC7YMXuhDfaDlVSjKvGcUQcaNYZdkBp9zdXoG8u68BbupogmyEWy6elvxN6YWx4W8ExgkLiVCPRpQ7YfrPn112WbHX9Po_UyJxvUTqZR-oeysncx9el_LiWQ/s320/Bombus+appositus.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">White-shouldered Bumble Bee, <i>Bombus appositus</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi13in69Ook7zjiUbNyhpuOwyCnJWWCfitzuAuMGUcHf4Nnwd2vcH4O1l1ogiaToXFvfK-xKIfHxwQ8i78_XQ-xbJ5J9dk8uOXmxip34ZF0ksMw0IxDReOmrG4fD4TZuo5JeUU_D7ogekY/s1000/Coccinella+septempunctata.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="671" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi13in69Ook7zjiUbNyhpuOwyCnJWWCfitzuAuMGUcHf4Nnwd2vcH4O1l1ogiaToXFvfK-xKIfHxwQ8i78_XQ-xbJ5J9dk8uOXmxip34ZF0ksMw0IxDReOmrG4fD4TZuo5JeUU_D7ogekY/s320/Coccinella+septempunctata.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seven-spotted Lady Beetle, <i>Coccinella septempunctata</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkkPMc5-CpdrKer5S_zboSLiyWBqtrsFS09y9yh1BYvOVZ9_qENgAO_jYZc_6Rh0-lTt9iB-AVThkkBlG7s8L-2IA6gxDhOEoyE-S1fgOfaW9-RDmp_sMtveNFq-DucMJdLFUx7vCZV-k/s1000/Melanoplus+saltator.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkkPMc5-CpdrKer5S_zboSLiyWBqtrsFS09y9yh1BYvOVZ9_qENgAO_jYZc_6Rh0-lTt9iB-AVThkkBlG7s8L-2IA6gxDhOEoyE-S1fgOfaW9-RDmp_sMtveNFq-DucMJdLFUx7vCZV-k/s320/Melanoplus+saltator.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Willamette Short-winged Grasshopper, <i>Melanoplus saltator</i></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge5iyI2PiCzxo-Uwe0edqz42LDNdubiXP_vNbTGleDyTSfFoYgamUAQjsC4QJsFMxWiNOA1yg5PPjCqoRPw3SdtbonDCSsP79SNd57tXBhT0Qym8mXM4ySwizt2aEkPiubu2_ehlFwBVw/s1000/millipede.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="737" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge5iyI2PiCzxo-Uwe0edqz42LDNdubiXP_vNbTGleDyTSfFoYgamUAQjsC4QJsFMxWiNOA1yg5PPjCqoRPw3SdtbonDCSsP79SNd57tXBhT0Qym8mXM4ySwizt2aEkPiubu2_ehlFwBVw/s320/millipede.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">millipede species, family Parajulidae</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>On the way down the mountain, we stopped to look for Canada Jays (they showed well) and lucked into an early migrant Townsend’s Warbler.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivXb0gLgs5EGuPx0Mw1BqEZY5UieTyrc3D16uotwe_6-jE-1RphdYGgW8LZkUzQPOSGs-FVWx2lFWhUs0yilovlOmyz9eW7jYY5wWb6FVxzLGepD_GYEe1rRPlEQC7fevogy2AIQ4mH-w/s1367/Canada+Jay+%2528Pacific%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1367" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivXb0gLgs5EGuPx0Mw1BqEZY5UieTyrc3D16uotwe_6-jE-1RphdYGgW8LZkUzQPOSGs-FVWx2lFWhUs0yilovlOmyz9eW7jYY5wWb6FVxzLGepD_GYEe1rRPlEQC7fevogy2AIQ4mH-w/s320/Canada+Jay+%2528Pacific%2529.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Canada Jay<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2f7qKYKV4unUbfKfKQHAcqeR7lP7h7WUP-PFAW21-RTXvLA2UdSVv625ElrR8xxL4JwJwvQeZPx9XabsL1QpsTd3N0oiVTIyg_JA9t49Ja4gyvACOY8cepx1oqrpZVxyfZSCiP7XesQE/s1000/Oplopanax+horridus.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2f7qKYKV4unUbfKfKQHAcqeR7lP7h7WUP-PFAW21-RTXvLA2UdSVv625ElrR8xxL4JwJwvQeZPx9XabsL1QpsTd3N0oiVTIyg_JA9t49Ja4gyvACOY8cepx1oqrpZVxyfZSCiP7XesQE/s320/Oplopanax+horridus.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Devils Club, <i>Oplopanax horridus</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>Lunch at Alsea Falls failed to produce dipper, but we were treated to a very cooperative Northern Pygmy-Owl that came way out of the tallest trees, and we enjoyed spending the better part of a half hour with this bird, sharing it with some passers-by as well.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn5CS1OoQ5hQJnBPGCqwiViSHU6Dm37nMvI7jiE6cCpzujH4UmPJ9ciLxNYof8lg6MoXfHcozwmNyAJ1Ve5hYfkfzFB7uUm8svbbYAlu2dFoR_sOo7dnkwiotzdpTmU_LwhajaEYoA7SI/s1000/Alsea+Falls.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn5CS1OoQ5hQJnBPGCqwiViSHU6Dm37nMvI7jiE6cCpzujH4UmPJ9ciLxNYof8lg6MoXfHcozwmNyAJ1Ve5hYfkfzFB7uUm8svbbYAlu2dFoR_sOo7dnkwiotzdpTmU_LwhajaEYoA7SI/s320/Alsea+Falls.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alsea Falls</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisYt03VbUodjzbt9c4zE1wSzXVtRp3sj6vTqCARgYKbPMiQpqun90VLkAqVf3WT0p2QlyZ3L-L1iJiwhYHKW73YyjmQPhOvamASsmMizxR9GsAfNF2PiZ4uyjZgQ5kVcDow1_oeGPcQgQ/s1000/Northern+Pygmy-Owl.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="967" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisYt03VbUodjzbt9c4zE1wSzXVtRp3sj6vTqCARgYKbPMiQpqun90VLkAqVf3WT0p2QlyZ3L-L1iJiwhYHKW73YyjmQPhOvamASsmMizxR9GsAfNF2PiZ4uyjZgQ5kVcDow1_oeGPcQgQ/s320/Northern+Pygmy-Owl.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Northern Pygmy-Owl<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2gf3c50LugjC2zR_6k-U8C7aj4i8RFXQhdsqLSXzWPxjzCUmvKjafPVwOJup1GZymapu9gVB3UtsBffJJwDH3BcO-bHnHYfWdz3K9_0for3ySISXCsciM_NfbT3R_jrSq_1J7ZD35jvk/s1000/Myocastor+coypus.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="347" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2gf3c50LugjC2zR_6k-U8C7aj4i8RFXQhdsqLSXzWPxjzCUmvKjafPVwOJup1GZymapu9gVB3UtsBffJJwDH3BcO-bHnHYfWdz3K9_0for3ySISXCsciM_NfbT3R_jrSq_1J7ZD35jvk/s320/Myocastor+coypus.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The abundant introduced Nutria, <i>Myocastor coypus</i> at an old logging pond near Alpine</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><b>September 3</b><br />We started our day driving to the coast with picnic breakfast at Philomath City Park, which is normally not anything special, but the stringer of willows here somehow had attracted a number of migrants. After we finished with the Acorn Woodpeckers over the picnic table, we caught up with very confiding Black-throated Gray Warbler and Warbling Vireo, among several other birds.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNpKP6uNb05YpBM8A0az2dEGLsPcX962yMEc3MaMDQaZ9TuVGp6UaOsTql12-q14izt-CYNqCLGPljx5iMkM_4kon6fnxaM_7h0E0zRMgFwkNyfvR5iQBto-0ugmIKT42WUOJbKdGCS2k/s1000/Black-throated+Gray+Warbler.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="694" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNpKP6uNb05YpBM8A0az2dEGLsPcX962yMEc3MaMDQaZ9TuVGp6UaOsTql12-q14izt-CYNqCLGPljx5iMkM_4kon6fnxaM_7h0E0zRMgFwkNyfvR5iQBto-0ugmIKT42WUOJbKdGCS2k/s320/Black-throated+Gray+Warbler.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Black-throated Gray Warbler</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjChltNkxZCRzaFIU9UD5INGxpGC0c1k_yALSceDktmPUaHLbpBEPh1vpgpSggU-NwIUgYcUZBhne7i8Q24BcA0r_eB75bFMo5uF81Nv-kKSrpLSmKe-0EhHXd-zkD_Vp9uLQgKRKvYwNk/s1000/Warbling+Vireo.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="738" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjChltNkxZCRzaFIU9UD5INGxpGC0c1k_yALSceDktmPUaHLbpBEPh1vpgpSggU-NwIUgYcUZBhne7i8Q24BcA0r_eB75bFMo5uF81Nv-kKSrpLSmKe-0EhHXd-zkD_Vp9uLQgKRKvYwNk/s320/Warbling+Vireo.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Warbling Vireo</span></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><br /></div><div>Another check of the sewage ponds preceded our drive to the lovely coast at Newport, and from there we worked our way southward to Florence with several stops.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdPw8A2UKQZ3eCBRK_IVYAyQtgl7zVe9BvW33i8tg4vSL-F8IZXmAFjyeSKMF2uoC8FiEtTRXYUCcVmr_6Bet93O-aOVRMl6I_KO_utkdV4Mgwqu4TEK8lMQsSVk8XtvztbSNqdxICyOs/s1000/Black+Phoebe.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="867" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdPw8A2UKQZ3eCBRK_IVYAyQtgl7zVe9BvW33i8tg4vSL-F8IZXmAFjyeSKMF2uoC8FiEtTRXYUCcVmr_6Bet93O-aOVRMl6I_KO_utkdV4Mgwqu4TEK8lMQsSVk8XtvztbSNqdxICyOs/s320/Black+Phoebe.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black Phoebe at Philomath Sewage Ponds</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>A Western Kingbird we found at the Hatfield Marine Science Center nature trail may have been just the second fall record for Lincoln County, but just as memorable were the more expected Harlequin Ducks at Otter Rocks and a very confiding Marsh Wren sitting up brave in the beach grass and willows at Sandpiper Village.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc0A4zYET5_9kba-qCVfAaGpRYin4Mak9cs3FgYPRsvaBipcMPYeilgIaU97sjUCiyL4aEW5ly-Wsqw0z4JkswHc0NMAkLfUxpmKzwpGVEkWPTGDaf_-YivquC_MTHd5HONLQTFN82n0A/s1000/Caspian+Tern%252C+California+Gull.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="560" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc0A4zYET5_9kba-qCVfAaGpRYin4Mak9cs3FgYPRsvaBipcMPYeilgIaU97sjUCiyL4aEW5ly-Wsqw0z4JkswHc0NMAkLfUxpmKzwpGVEkWPTGDaf_-YivquC_MTHd5HONLQTFN82n0A/s320/Caspian+Tern%252C+California+Gull.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">California Gulls and Caspian Tern at Hatfield Marine Science Center<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0bfADqEqKMjTGptwRYG1l7fFEAwBrwemV7HPA3NB1dKreEjxHdBSxqbXitzDq-nwhrA_1ys5A_nkTvHH7wbFApfOlDxsKxlgRLLh3lHrmfXW4c11QTGfP0546n8Y3rGa1FuFhouPfG3Q/s1165/Cedar+Waxwing.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1165" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0bfADqEqKMjTGptwRYG1l7fFEAwBrwemV7HPA3NB1dKreEjxHdBSxqbXitzDq-nwhrA_1ys5A_nkTvHH7wbFApfOlDxsKxlgRLLh3lHrmfXW4c11QTGfP0546n8Y3rGa1FuFhouPfG3Q/s320/Cedar+Waxwing.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cedar Waxwing at Hatfield Marine Science Center</td></tr></tbody></table></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVVs6vNm9QDQ075iPsn4sk0Kvlmh0dxnoSu7RinoXdeGtNWpbIr7YLkOYqIH6SF4k1yeVT19OQie084rIhCfRm6f3gbR_i6hFEBNBkDoMO5eQLpDqaWDZWQ4m9rDHjOf7kFnvn7GrxKno/s1000/Cicindela+bellissima.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="937" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVVs6vNm9QDQ075iPsn4sk0Kvlmh0dxnoSu7RinoXdeGtNWpbIr7YLkOYqIH6SF4k1yeVT19OQie084rIhCfRm6f3gbR_i6hFEBNBkDoMO5eQLpDqaWDZWQ4m9rDHjOf7kFnvn7GrxKno/s320/Cicindela+bellissima.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pacific Coast Tiger Beetle, <i>Cicindela bellissima</i> at Sandpiper Village<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGSRF0lEvAloFye79WWP2eaLez0i9rIZmMe7IySeLGHUQCAdt9OE7_GeBib4cewb_B9Gk42wEEDoRSQKMo05Z6xbyINReLbZX879ZzgM3I1v0yZrWe74aSVIIxXcTMYvKAgZ1erpctmhs/s1000/Cicindela+oregona.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="830" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGSRF0lEvAloFye79WWP2eaLez0i9rIZmMe7IySeLGHUQCAdt9OE7_GeBib4cewb_B9Gk42wEEDoRSQKMo05Z6xbyINReLbZX879ZzgM3I1v0yZrWe74aSVIIxXcTMYvKAgZ1erpctmhs/s320/Cicindela+oregona.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Western Tiger Beetle, <i>Cicindela oregona</i> at Sandpiper Village</td></tr></tbody></table><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGSRF0lEvAloFye79WWP2eaLez0i9rIZmMe7IySeLGHUQCAdt9OE7_GeBib4cewb_B9Gk42wEEDoRSQKMo05Z6xbyINReLbZX879ZzgM3I1v0yZrWe74aSVIIxXcTMYvKAgZ1erpctmhs/s1000/Cicindela+oregona.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDOdt1FkGvoAr-Pg_FvT5hyTruUwgH2tPANM9Fb97_k8QGx0cqvRT1mjB7QfSNffBY-ohSP-w1majNYr_Y0KDaGtqoYndwCap7PK1sDdJRzY0FZ-sPAHxSjVVKhyBAXUbPbvowmsmCDok/s1000/Fog+at+Sandpiper+Village+Beach.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDOdt1FkGvoAr-Pg_FvT5hyTruUwgH2tPANM9Fb97_k8QGx0cqvRT1mjB7QfSNffBY-ohSP-w1majNYr_Y0KDaGtqoYndwCap7PK1sDdJRzY0FZ-sPAHxSjVVKhyBAXUbPbvowmsmCDok/s320/Fog+at+Sandpiper+Village+Beach.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandpiper Village Beach in the fog</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><b>September 4</b></div><div>Our first day on the coast actually started inland a bit in the forests of Cape Mountain, where we hoped to run into some mixed flocks as well as escape the heavy mizzle that had settled in overnight. We found more Canada Jays, but a very tame Varied Thrush ended up being our best find there. A very close Gray Whale just below the Heceta Lookout was fun, and a walk to the lighthouse is where we ended up with our best views of Black Oystercatcher on the rocks below countless Brandt’s Cormorants.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg49-yAxQ2qQRzzYCsSS0wF20N-DGHNh7QcIRO-dWyaS1CsidPqmM4WqewNWyJzSLltvp_KUSZ84aHgWHQn6MvHpYGMriA35x_7E27nxf_pBVLz5wTrzlimia-AiVxe5MdePmKlrok63Ro/s1000/Brandt%2527s+Cormorant%252C+Brown+Pelican.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="577" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg49-yAxQ2qQRzzYCsSS0wF20N-DGHNh7QcIRO-dWyaS1CsidPqmM4WqewNWyJzSLltvp_KUSZ84aHgWHQn6MvHpYGMriA35x_7E27nxf_pBVLz5wTrzlimia-AiVxe5MdePmKlrok63Ro/s320/Brandt%2527s+Cormorant%252C+Brown+Pelican.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brandt's Cormorants and Brown Pelican from Heceta Head<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz3I7f8YlDFrljvIB2Wul9jXMEpIQyC1gS7hPr0rjwovg3XJcpWHzqh7AhuQ1MhPOiULREo0AHao_p9P7J_Iic_4XrVFcYQPUBZxRqeATIfQhnKK6tal-tOYRW6LX4pG1Gp7PwQ4DRvKI/s1000/View+from+Heceta+Head.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz3I7f8YlDFrljvIB2Wul9jXMEpIQyC1gS7hPr0rjwovg3XJcpWHzqh7AhuQ1MhPOiULREo0AHao_p9P7J_Iic_4XrVFcYQPUBZxRqeATIfQhnKK6tal-tOYRW6LX4pG1Gp7PwQ4DRvKI/s320/View+from+Heceta+Head.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from Heceta Head lighthouse just before the weather began clearing.</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Lunch was fortuitously under a Sita Spruce tree laden with ripe cones where Type 10 Red Crossbills were actively feeding and calling, but even more impressive were huge numbers of Cedar Waxwing, feeding on the abundant huckleberries, salal, twinberry honeysuckle, and especially cascara. A careful count of forty-nine Snowy Plovers at the beach was close to a record number; the resident docent who was there to help warn non-birding beachgoers to avoid flushing the birds had never seen so many at once and had no explanation for the sudden concentration.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBAhxTalzudAImD5PXLbErKuw2XLUyjlwJLpueg0Q17HOnUFpi6mJf0Ux1sIQgKGGIFZdu8PUQn_YzmsgZpJ1Rm7ZtIYkTeRD1JiBN8Ad4HODt-ijTHzYPzimu4RIvYR7QbEYn58HWxjo/s1000/Scapanus+orarius.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="789" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBAhxTalzudAImD5PXLbErKuw2XLUyjlwJLpueg0Q17HOnUFpi6mJf0Ux1sIQgKGGIFZdu8PUQn_YzmsgZpJ1Rm7ZtIYkTeRD1JiBN8Ad4HODt-ijTHzYPzimu4RIvYR7QbEYn58HWxjo/s320/Scapanus+orarius.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A dead Costal Mole, <i>Scapanus orarius</i>, on the picnic area lawn was odd.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBcmfoN0XiNAvXR0JMfxTSFh_bh6Q83GuzV0oU9Id7FX0f530Gu03ATynsyRpcJn_ZUQwcKIAZdfLZzQUkfL8MQaLkhyphenhyphenNDfaGhnv3Ryk8z6QAWI5oDgaeZDcI5TYBUw3TNBClMSEHD4Q/s1372/Snowy+Plover.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1372" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBcmfoN0XiNAvXR0JMfxTSFh_bh6Q83GuzV0oU9Id7FX0f530Gu03ATynsyRpcJn_ZUQwcKIAZdfLZzQUkfL8MQaLkhyphenhyphenNDfaGhnv3Ryk8z6QAWI5oDgaeZDcI5TYBUw3TNBClMSEHD4Q/s320/Snowy+Plover.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the few Snowy Plovers that didn't have leg bands.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0fqZXNifH1YxmdKNNDfEx_yI8Cs0VpLSny03Q5jNC7lt-k1cmgdh9wqkj2U258BtEHT40CRn6vb1mDyphyphenhyphenbGBXHBHKlmTWnj0oH9JMsJX7TRxHgNe9jrRvdI808tLNURbG3jH2rkrDKo/s1000/Vespula+consobrina.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0fqZXNifH1YxmdKNNDfEx_yI8Cs0VpLSny03Q5jNC7lt-k1cmgdh9wqkj2U258BtEHT40CRn6vb1mDyphyphenhyphenbGBXHBHKlmTWnj0oH9JMsJX7TRxHgNe9jrRvdI808tLNURbG3jH2rkrDKo/s320/Vespula+consobrina.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What do you call a black-and-white yellowjacket? Should be a whitejacket, right? But this one is called Blackjacket, <i>Vespula consobrina</i>.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9uBu0DIe4FU9JdWAbH3oH3_gwepMR1q5qsZZ1WeZ4YFOZi4S3KWhscCN1_Lp3a-PmA0kBb_WPut59NkbSWkcCF-FxLBOKHeS-m_1VA7KzdUgpkV_Y0d1hQXhWLN_S1DxzZvlKIyaNyyA/s1000/Western+Sandpiper%252C+Sanderling.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9uBu0DIe4FU9JdWAbH3oH3_gwepMR1q5qsZZ1WeZ4YFOZi4S3KWhscCN1_Lp3a-PmA0kBb_WPut59NkbSWkcCF-FxLBOKHeS-m_1VA7KzdUgpkV_Y0d1hQXhWLN_S1DxzZvlKIyaNyyA/s320/Western+Sandpiper%252C+Sanderling.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Sanderling and two Western Sandpipers joined the Snowy Plovers<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>We finished the day’s birding at the south jetty of the Siuslaw River where a very distant roosting Surfbird was less than optimal, while Black Turnstones, Whimbrel, Marbled Godwit, and a very close trio of Harlequin Ducks were among the additional 25 species we saw.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqD87bgWQgthhkecIncS1mq_1OQY6T1qgiDQQWwJR1db5HeBNRym0ZpS_iIczGL61WZQEXRoddZ1f_mRPNPS2ew8JsumDLxp7-WMAWVOW2mvV-lSqVRBu3gYa58VlxhRzUW6VFu5Kvu_Q/s1169/American+Pipit.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1169" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqD87bgWQgthhkecIncS1mq_1OQY6T1qgiDQQWwJR1db5HeBNRym0ZpS_iIczGL61WZQEXRoddZ1f_mRPNPS2ew8JsumDLxp7-WMAWVOW2mvV-lSqVRBu3gYa58VlxhRzUW6VFu5Kvu_Q/s320/American+Pipit.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">American Pipit<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv52DqEkgol1skm_JIS_YlgYsYcLhBNoASI-2ayf_a9tbO4kHYVRuoertHasjaLo6_mkzJ1Wf7Sd4KVdXOsT4tNBC1L2sVG2y9CmpLaI7fusQV08BUpKHBEzrn-aNhbqTfR6TAoWBRgaU/s1000/dowitchers.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv52DqEkgol1skm_JIS_YlgYsYcLhBNoASI-2ayf_a9tbO4kHYVRuoertHasjaLo6_mkzJ1Wf7Sd4KVdXOsT4tNBC1L2sVG2y9CmpLaI7fusQV08BUpKHBEzrn-aNhbqTfR6TAoWBRgaU/s320/dowitchers.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A very fast flock of silent dowitchers. Could have been either or both species.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7NnA-U-W6mPWerZgJfFCAvMrb7oa9GLNsCfJzZdm1WDs__wYXJSyDVhafy2749uzHlVdktB16v224FoIunFXqpS_-zhDKCwLt2CvhD9WsJmLr41gZSMlaCPM9CHkEMSZfWsZVkthZUn0/s1000/Harlequin+Duck.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="564" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7NnA-U-W6mPWerZgJfFCAvMrb7oa9GLNsCfJzZdm1WDs__wYXJSyDVhafy2749uzHlVdktB16v224FoIunFXqpS_-zhDKCwLt2CvhD9WsJmLr41gZSMlaCPM9CHkEMSZfWsZVkthZUn0/s320/Harlequin+Duck.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Harlequin Ducks<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><div><b>September 5</b></div><div>Today was a travel day from the coast to the Great Basin, but we had time to stop for birds and lovely picnics in gorgeous settings. Steller’s Jays and Swainson’s Thrushes were at our picnic breakfast at Whittaker Creek, while our only Wild Turkeys were flying (!) across the highway as we were approaching Eugene. We made stops at Fern Ridge Reservoir where Common Tern and Clark’s Grebe were highlights as well as at my yard, which I call Calliope Corner. No calliopes were present, but we did have our most memorable views of Rufous Hummingbird here, and the feeders were busy with Bushtits, Lesser Goldfinches, and even migrant Black-headed Grosbeak and Western Tanager made appearances. Lunch was at the spectacular Salt Creek Falls, though mid-day in early September in the high Cascades is predictably nearly bird-free; however, this is where we finally got stellar views of American Dipper.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBx1eXJfDPqYCDXLR9pCd_O-YpGpfN2ZXOf5T2-GqXAMUWDury-sZEVXZjcCQHejAU6M4Qb24QD1lKljTtVUCQ8_Fw7EwogOqHAdmzV6VpkVevIg2ZvEXZXsalArFVpo_R6YNL-9iq5Bc/s1333/Salt+Creek+Falls.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1333" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBx1eXJfDPqYCDXLR9pCd_O-YpGpfN2ZXOf5T2-GqXAMUWDury-sZEVXZjcCQHejAU6M4Qb24QD1lKljTtVUCQ8_Fw7EwogOqHAdmzV6VpkVevIg2ZvEXZXsalArFVpo_R6YNL-9iq5Bc/s320/Salt+Creek+Falls.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salt Creek Falls<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi__LqGbJsR_XzxyIbqQ4AAsWfinLDlzmAEZGVPW7N-FewUrGMtkoRLxvrk8VUZY1lOcuwLsfuZROdxf57F4PZb_Fu_XUXsochnWBMnwOcoyCuq0l76VzgX_-pYl99144NBYbNF4pu4c7g/s1206/Polygonia+faunus.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1206" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi__LqGbJsR_XzxyIbqQ4AAsWfinLDlzmAEZGVPW7N-FewUrGMtkoRLxvrk8VUZY1lOcuwLsfuZROdxf57F4PZb_Fu_XUXsochnWBMnwOcoyCuq0l76VzgX_-pYl99144NBYbNF4pu4c7g/s320/Polygonia+faunus.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Green Comma, <i>Polygonia faunus</i>, at Salt Creek</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Less than an hour and a half down the road, and just as we were about to enter the treeless expanse of sagebrush steppe, we passed through a final grove of Ponderosa Pine that was alive with birds. It was a mind-boggling bonanza that started with Pinyon Jay and progressed through Clark’s Nutcracker, Lewis’s Woodpecker, White-headed Woodpecker, Pygmy Nuthatch, and almost 20 more species in rapid succession. We found it hard to tear ourselves away from this, but ahead lie more memorable birds.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlzYhfgaTkgyK_hQ6-vQV2XTkkBHS0DN3Y9w4ASd_XgX_z1_3Dimk29jmep3A6y6GNI_lMVF_jJdhz9a1A7j2hBXHPG67oyYc8gZxPWEGdIai4N69eMEh9hvVrr9KxSDaY8JEAMQkYNnQ/s1000/Clark%2527s+Nutcracker.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlzYhfgaTkgyK_hQ6-vQV2XTkkBHS0DN3Y9w4ASd_XgX_z1_3Dimk29jmep3A6y6GNI_lMVF_jJdhz9a1A7j2hBXHPG67oyYc8gZxPWEGdIai4N69eMEh9hvVrr9KxSDaY8JEAMQkYNnQ/s320/Clark%2527s+Nutcracker.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clark's Nutcracker with a crop full of pine nuts, off to cache<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Jbh04bg8Ybmc1N5tgrAkvBXIU-1JxUTbtqllaEEBq-rIy0sUDYpBxqh48RENBxnZ0N04ViyNS7_HjpYcDgyCYCMwKoi-TBq25CjT2UNpHfZ2Th-fPMPIfsjINfhG-2rBn_wk65uIFlY/s1000/Golden-crowned+Sparrow.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="741" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Jbh04bg8Ybmc1N5tgrAkvBXIU-1JxUTbtqllaEEBq-rIy0sUDYpBxqh48RENBxnZ0N04ViyNS7_HjpYcDgyCYCMwKoi-TBq25CjT2UNpHfZ2Th-fPMPIfsjINfhG-2rBn_wk65uIFlY/s320/Golden-crowned+Sparrow.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An earlyish Golden-crowned Sparrow</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVI7cH5gQ3suC9RiGiwmtm4CZpwsNsKGIl_cWCozr5ShTYDfDL7aMlqQTYfErMbEw3USdGDibXjwFeT_paS5WnXlLbvNlYO6EPQbYn9k8sxYaN6vMFi65gc-UepbozlW2fHDIlHIoh8x0/s1000/Lincoln%2527s+Sparrow.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="606" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVI7cH5gQ3suC9RiGiwmtm4CZpwsNsKGIl_cWCozr5ShTYDfDL7aMlqQTYfErMbEw3USdGDibXjwFeT_paS5WnXlLbvNlYO6EPQbYn9k8sxYaN6vMFi65gc-UepbozlW2fHDIlHIoh8x0/s320/Lincoln%2527s+Sparrow.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lincoln's Sparrow<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKRdGEsPOHAq7POFg7NgLI4giNnRxQpz5FNZLqdMUIb6VTJpZYJFK5CkSKDvolv68pRGuACojiKyfkbhy5kFJDwFiJgwzIxKJK8x6eR8xF1OLuDEbnMfj08SHnAldTRo6MHGnahiiNES4/s1000/White-breasted+Nuthatch+%2528Interior%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="714" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKRdGEsPOHAq7POFg7NgLI4giNnRxQpz5FNZLqdMUIb6VTJpZYJFK5CkSKDvolv68pRGuACojiKyfkbhy5kFJDwFiJgwzIxKJK8x6eR8xF1OLuDEbnMfj08SHnAldTRo6MHGnahiiNES4/s320/White-breasted+Nuthatch+%2528Interior%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">White-breasted Nuthatch, of the long-billed interior subspecies <i>tenuissima</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_NpbmYSbD_W9deJAxhnVE122l7r0EWnjyyLCAFnNQtY1O0jRQC93qklMApaZMSclQiCJAhb1l9HVSz-kviXYWtVpojXguWHBJuW7BMJrj4kjhOtHsl2d9Jw461IJmUH3FaAtEhSVBpYk/s1000/White-headed+Woodpecker.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="886" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_NpbmYSbD_W9deJAxhnVE122l7r0EWnjyyLCAFnNQtY1O0jRQC93qklMApaZMSclQiCJAhb1l9HVSz-kviXYWtVpojXguWHBJuW7BMJrj4kjhOtHsl2d9Jw461IJmUH3FaAtEhSVBpYk/s320/White-headed+Woodpecker.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">White-headed Woodpecker<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhprS1ofv3K8usH0dwKCZWVVvvATDTlatpIAzEaMeO_lFuGqe8IuihwraiRaD_2z69BzgC1DCGLFF9C7r13CmigLH8S4-Knls6HQx8IwL42Km-Fb4QcGVEH1nlRLHbzvHdtUVzApEMh90c/s1000/Rock+Horse+Park.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhprS1ofv3K8usH0dwKCZWVVvvATDTlatpIAzEaMeO_lFuGqe8IuihwraiRaD_2z69BzgC1DCGLFF9C7r13CmigLH8S4-Knls6HQx8IwL42Km-Fb4QcGVEH1nlRLHbzvHdtUVzApEMh90c/s320/Rock+Horse+Park.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All of the above birds were seen from the highway shoulder at this isolated grove of ponderosa pines<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div>Sage Thrasher appeared as promised, Prairie Falcon posed nicely on a power pole, and stunning Mountain Bluebirds flitted along fence lines. But the best was yet to come with our picnic dinner of Thai green curry at the stunning Fort Rock State Park. As dusk began to settle, White-throated Swift returned from the far-off feeding areas to roost for the night, and then as civil twilight began to fade a pair of calling Barn Owls emerged like ghosts in the moonlight, foraging in the sagebrush slopes below the impressive volcanic tuff ring. It was a moment to savor.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH1cn7oZO3urV51lF3G9HKIhEavHHhi1oHHz3bygGK9uomC5NiY4EdIMquNSLGOgvh4blTz461GByrYwfrfaDR5ZydF0rdAu8btPdha1LG13ve9P_Akn1KlyeMdW1moDWpOxVJqqBHPr0/s1000/Fort+Rock.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH1cn7oZO3urV51lF3G9HKIhEavHHhi1oHHz3bygGK9uomC5NiY4EdIMquNSLGOgvh4blTz461GByrYwfrfaDR5ZydF0rdAu8btPdha1LG13ve9P_Akn1KlyeMdW1moDWpOxVJqqBHPr0/s320/Fort+Rock.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fort Rock State Park<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi48sGxhNNv8nnDItlpytgSK_fwsWGuMWdndteVH1nInNjP2IxbNAk6XDFGB1cmWLmMAo3dYiQvVD6635eVT2nY0TdmZjQ041OMXnUaC_IXGxH_5U5UnNVuekwIknzAn4uo8Nhvqe9zUzU/s1000/Prairie+Falcon.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi48sGxhNNv8nnDItlpytgSK_fwsWGuMWdndteVH1nInNjP2IxbNAk6XDFGB1cmWLmMAo3dYiQvVD6635eVT2nY0TdmZjQ041OMXnUaC_IXGxH_5U5UnNVuekwIknzAn4uo8Nhvqe9zUzU/s320/Prairie+Falcon.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prairie Falcon<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR7GdB8KcugC6E3iNjFIIPjZlgvRrCr5J0Ca0vtxHC1A1qJ6Fxg12rMFPMErylLxuv8r02IX50oYSTBOm-Na9Hl_Bi89l-Xm1Ic9SDw7HZosHW3OO0OsvBkwv7bKCt2ETxZCw3mJ_0iaU/s1000/Latrodectus+hesperus.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="655" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR7GdB8KcugC6E3iNjFIIPjZlgvRrCr5J0Ca0vtxHC1A1qJ6Fxg12rMFPMErylLxuv8r02IX50oYSTBOm-Na9Hl_Bi89l-Xm1Ic9SDw7HZosHW3OO0OsvBkwv7bKCt2ETxZCw3mJ_0iaU/s320/Latrodectus+hesperus.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Western Black Widow, <i>Latrodectus hesperus</i>, greeted me at my hotel door after dinner and owling!</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><br /></div><div><b>September 6</b></div><div>The masses of birdlife at Summer Lake State Wildlife Area took up almost all morning, and this place was a highlight of the tour. Avocets, Black-necked Stilts, Snowy Plovers, and Western Sandpipers were complemented by a single Sanderling, rare so far inland. We had three Great Horned Owls, including a pair that hooted in broad daylight, migrant MacGillivray’s Warbler and Nashville Warbler, and our only Black-crowned Night-Heron.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSMrSFLjUYKfgAvppdJ0AiHoZz3J8aXHibSaWaGgGMd2rkGzSBaU9-PmIiHZ8Pqy0cxv6X3rISLALc88a_kq1Jw6NmcumKVvCmRJC2_FcaG0M8TYXOMySuBzgyzDzvc9nKaStoVTULJnk/s1000/Sunrise+in+smoke+at+Summer+Lake.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSMrSFLjUYKfgAvppdJ0AiHoZz3J8aXHibSaWaGgGMd2rkGzSBaU9-PmIiHZ8Pqy0cxv6X3rISLALc88a_kq1Jw6NmcumKVvCmRJC2_FcaG0M8TYXOMySuBzgyzDzvc9nKaStoVTULJnk/s320/Sunrise+in+smoke+at+Summer+Lake.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was the first morning we had any issue with smoke, this presumably from the record large fires in California. The big ones in Oregon were still a day and a half away from igniting.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAKoamnFOUhRVvuoOQFaZjdpMMsYl78k4JwdP18-3WdaSEZba8icqYGyi2zBNJ0nn65zPtoO0kxFkPu4T2tVJOdjZw2iRsBxFcw0tchd4F8KH0ls-qc-o-rPNBAHSIT8RIxjS6B0mqEWE/s1000/Brewer%2527s+Blackbird.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="694" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAKoamnFOUhRVvuoOQFaZjdpMMsYl78k4JwdP18-3WdaSEZba8icqYGyi2zBNJ0nn65zPtoO0kxFkPu4T2tVJOdjZw2iRsBxFcw0tchd4F8KH0ls-qc-o-rPNBAHSIT8RIxjS6B0mqEWE/s320/Brewer%2527s+Blackbird.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A female Brewer's Blackbird at our picnic breakfast<br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx84rZ4rf2HmLlgunKEkf-MgK-VUtxENr88hd5mSmUWVmhCPn6i5iFmyug09ib4g3tC19hZE77xZcH2PcmLwx36-0ROK-9ZEJ7aoqHdthzU8h1zm8vcD-GpaVCics5SCi95I-iMnfy6Us/s1000/Catocala.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx84rZ4rf2HmLlgunKEkf-MgK-VUtxENr88hd5mSmUWVmhCPn6i5iFmyug09ib4g3tC19hZE77xZcH2PcmLwx36-0ROK-9ZEJ7aoqHdthzU8h1zm8vcD-GpaVCics5SCi95I-iMnfy6Us/s320/Catocala.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An underwing moth, <i>Catocala sp.</i> notoriously difficult to identify<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm097YjEXXDhma3eQjhlP3M8RKaCsqHF2Wmt_TcZHJQCLWYpusG2n8ULEMyGYY6NqB5zlttvuZV5SJUFShhZzV3rmu52YE-Tvt2iQdl5W3tX3iRQVW4ZBxSSxT81ii2gZ4GdFr3ggE8Ys/s1000/Aedes+dorsalis.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="622" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm097YjEXXDhma3eQjhlP3M8RKaCsqHF2Wmt_TcZHJQCLWYpusG2n8ULEMyGYY6NqB5zlttvuZV5SJUFShhZzV3rmu52YE-Tvt2iQdl5W3tX3iRQVW4ZBxSSxT81ii2gZ4GdFr3ggE8Ys/s320/Aedes+dorsalis.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Aedes dorsalis</i> was the mosquito we encountered at Summer Lake, a time of year when they are usually gone.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKdUVspFen77Vgvmvwdf4VwqOkVAZn2EEa8wDYefaLCGMLsVCATNFyRrqpRcsC0RabCTxIBratYf0Z1w6dtTukRhrxeB4UUW2nWRHWYBZ7CsaBwDPnchCYf-8AtdIn23rYtad8atFmzWI/s1000/Great+Horned+Owl.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKdUVspFen77Vgvmvwdf4VwqOkVAZn2EEa8wDYefaLCGMLsVCATNFyRrqpRcsC0RabCTxIBratYf0Z1w6dtTukRhrxeB4UUW2nWRHWYBZ7CsaBwDPnchCYf-8AtdIn23rYtad8atFmzWI/s320/Great+Horned+Owl.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Great Horned Owls<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil04AipgZlzhcDqNiPWQXUj12nNQZoG0fR2VsK9FDnvI6JxTpuQZd7HIF1bscuRjy0PfyfodrGkjUHThhdAPDkGM1xMcF5NMiP9pRexrXqHvF0c5LDPopkZ6XJ4PW1mwgBU-ZCF-k4UTs/s1000/Sharp-shinned+Hawk.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil04AipgZlzhcDqNiPWQXUj12nNQZoG0fR2VsK9FDnvI6JxTpuQZd7HIF1bscuRjy0PfyfodrGkjUHThhdAPDkGM1xMcF5NMiP9pRexrXqHvF0c5LDPopkZ6XJ4PW1mwgBU-ZCF-k4UTs/s320/Sharp-shinned+Hawk.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sharp-shinned Hawk</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWaix-7xK-QQbMF_PKroP9fF5qqMR7J19xZZv7xV8de7ajnrSfMPWNsZdWJbUnWfU_w0fhBZH5kgObmWkj8PjsG_jHwAXlhFpIhtELvRmpE4IA7JVMfTUfdXu3yk6onTnZd5EER7rjNkg/s1000/Willlow+Flycatcher.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="735" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWaix-7xK-QQbMF_PKroP9fF5qqMR7J19xZZv7xV8de7ajnrSfMPWNsZdWJbUnWfU_w0fhBZH5kgObmWkj8PjsG_jHwAXlhFpIhtELvRmpE4IA7JVMfTUfdXu3yk6onTnZd5EER7rjNkg/s320/Willlow+Flycatcher.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Willow Flycatcher<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu5yKwAyxUvnngR0V253x9Van6HzQVmjgsKAQon4QB6vv8h3GJo8lSJ50OSBvRXoBb1jSER93YLUqcZ0AM1tXq0gI8vnOwg73x0tuXayOnQxYYzfdoxX5NdpuLW6SlMnTBXjewK2iIHS0/s984/Vespula+atropilosa.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="921" data-original-width="984" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu5yKwAyxUvnngR0V253x9Van6HzQVmjgsKAQon4QB6vv8h3GJo8lSJ50OSBvRXoBb1jSER93YLUqcZ0AM1tXq0gI8vnOwg73x0tuXayOnQxYYzfdoxX5NdpuLW6SlMnTBXjewK2iIHS0/s320/Vespula+atropilosa.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Prairie Yellowjacket, <i>Vespula atropilosa</i>, was a new one for me.<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div>Lunch at Marster Spring was rather warm and not full of birds, but that was followed by the impressive drive past Abert Lake with its thousands of American Avocets, Eared Grebes, and Wilson’s Plovers, scattered to well beyond the heat shimmer and impossible to truly count.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTdbpSbn1vDdhRlmUPvETApwfLfc4wNynn7CfKIWWl5bfvQGDAIzX1nxYsSL0a0V8ZfLi8wH2qikDpILWNtENvfIgNPaRt5ANy6mXFdPvb_lMo0f-2rXeGdmSEO7wnHERbk4DghRhi5U8/s1000/Abert+Lake+scenery.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTdbpSbn1vDdhRlmUPvETApwfLfc4wNynn7CfKIWWl5bfvQGDAIzX1nxYsSL0a0V8ZfLi8wH2qikDpILWNtENvfIgNPaRt5ANy6mXFdPvb_lMo0f-2rXeGdmSEO7wnHERbk4DghRhi5U8/s320/Abert+Lake+scenery.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abert Lake </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKptpwy-AFNeufgqeNmUZBV-dvsoxPsoJUnQ8DM7nbNCR6JI35qnVbbR2sXgrDInJoOrjUZwmp8rAerbk8T4B7U9n4gCzOT8If90vzeK_DuQORwkHVQ6tkjRmrxT15i8VmBmnVC-swtqs/s1000/American+Avocet+%25281%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKptpwy-AFNeufgqeNmUZBV-dvsoxPsoJUnQ8DM7nbNCR6JI35qnVbbR2sXgrDInJoOrjUZwmp8rAerbk8T4B7U9n4gCzOT8If90vzeK_DuQORwkHVQ6tkjRmrxT15i8VmBmnVC-swtqs/s320/American+Avocet+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">American Avocet<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik8L6QS94uZtVUFUTepgPc0yOQkYbOHQwmy3GjjVQ5w_iZCshX_xbjLYDzYeUidgH_Wc-6-4F6HRxQkMhIcm7qvFhyphenhyphenzCE-yzmqTt4tmye-yP-ObUSjW2I4UPqrp2DrrgSoniAGe7d9wd8/s1000/American+Avocet.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik8L6QS94uZtVUFUTepgPc0yOQkYbOHQwmy3GjjVQ5w_iZCshX_xbjLYDzYeUidgH_Wc-6-4F6HRxQkMhIcm7qvFhyphenhyphenzCE-yzmqTt4tmye-yP-ObUSjW2I4UPqrp2DrrgSoniAGe7d9wd8/s320/American+Avocet.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Avocets, phalaropes, and Eared Grebes as far as the eye can see<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8f4gQHJ_7j6dzKTYtngVizu0UgTMiPNWLV7L_-N-cRK6nhRF_6yJ6t_APmrkJ8GQ4Q5jN1ejY95fQnD0N7zUXzjngvLU4mAn2TLvYhIQ6DGbW0usj3WccDh64Q5JshOpspAatrHL82BE/s1000/Trimerotropis+verruculata.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="598" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8f4gQHJ_7j6dzKTYtngVizu0UgTMiPNWLV7L_-N-cRK6nhRF_6yJ6t_APmrkJ8GQ4Q5jN1ejY95fQnD0N7zUXzjngvLU4mAn2TLvYhIQ6DGbW0usj3WccDh64Q5JshOpspAatrHL82BE/s320/Trimerotropis+verruculata.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crackling Forest Grasshopper, <i>Trimerotropis verruculata</i>, at lunch</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>Raptors were a constant distraction, and among the eight species of hawks and eagles we saw this day was a very handsome Ferruginous Hawk. We eventually had to break up the monotonous drive for safety’s sake, and as luck would have it, the pullout was next to a very nice patch of Greater Sagebrush, perfect for Sagebrush Sparrow which came right in. With the weather forecast looking iffy for possible wind, we continued north of Burns to have a picnic dinner of vegetarian chili and polenta with mint pesto at Idlewild Campground, followed by a tremendously successful search for Flammulated Owls nearby. Few people have ever bothered to look for this tricky bird this late in the season, and even the regional eBird reviewer was apparently surprised they were still in residence.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>September 7</b></div><div>Our full day in Malheur National Wildlife Refuge was delightful. There were plenty of birds to look through at the headquarters complex, especially with so many Red-breasted Nuthatches raiding the spruce cones. A family of Ring-necked Pheasants as we drove up were one target bird, while two Lewis’s Woodpeckers and a Townsend’s Warbler were among the prizes to be found among the many migrants. Our stop at the Buena Vista Overlook featured both Rock Wren and a very close Canyon Wren before we continued to cover the rest of the refuge. We tried for the reported Plumbeous Vireo but instead had a rather dull Cassin’s Vireo, our first for the tour, right by our picnic lunch table. The two Red-shouldered Hawks we saw as we worked back north through the refuge would have required a call to the RBA 15 years ago, and this came after a birder reported seeing a Red-tailed Hawk feeding on one just a day or two earlier. An interesting change came in the weather today, with a northern flow first moving out all the California forest fire smoke that had built up from the south. But then in the afternoon a cold north wind brought smoke from a Montana forest fire from the opposite direction as we ate our picnic dinner of takeout from Linda’s Thai at a local park.</div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqhrvm8lsYvmwMNCgQnYlwkJbzbZM_nt7XJJgaAOQC_b59kAzHzJuYHDumYUsY0dZjXpREguR4aqAiTQfbmEPsBYxmfq-JXQO29JUqu3Jdk37ZhD9mzrx5bLLAU9QMNlaiLoe_z5SnXGQ/s1134/Dolichovespula.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqhrvm8lsYvmwMNCgQnYlwkJbzbZM_nt7XJJgaAOQC_b59kAzHzJuYHDumYUsY0dZjXpREguR4aqAiTQfbmEPsBYxmfq-JXQO29JUqu3Jdk37ZhD9mzrx5bLLAU9QMNlaiLoe_z5SnXGQ/s320/Dolichovespula.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Dolichovespula sp</i>. nest high in the cottonwoods at P Ranch</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpDxSW92DNV6GKkfkonqOA-bqmZ91sLAUf692fzJbmWHQ15PMWY9DR1dxHkp4piR_QlXFbEcTcBr9-jKChMmK1Z1-CuceR9p8scXrNRyyoGnjC_g4g2M2pI3CzBhPl1vAnC0gktq7TjzA/s1000/Red-shouldered+Hawk.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpDxSW92DNV6GKkfkonqOA-bqmZ91sLAUf692fzJbmWHQ15PMWY9DR1dxHkp4piR_QlXFbEcTcBr9-jKChMmK1Z1-CuceR9p8scXrNRyyoGnjC_g4g2M2pI3CzBhPl1vAnC0gktq7TjzA/s320/Red-shouldered+Hawk.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red-shouldered Hawk at P Ranch<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd9qigRISIbeY_rNGCOwhHM4nCwki8EgH5pYYrbxtmEF8zucSPEtQzW2VNcqCrXRvoOCMP3J5QON3-AkqdI6uHTz5Y6IhFQ70kOSxiMMQckFMHCNrVbzuIJ0-7F5DJfs8NEloDQ03DiC8/s1000/Sandhill+Crane+%25281%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd9qigRISIbeY_rNGCOwhHM4nCwki8EgH5pYYrbxtmEF8zucSPEtQzW2VNcqCrXRvoOCMP3J5QON3-AkqdI6uHTz5Y6IhFQ70kOSxiMMQckFMHCNrVbzuIJ0-7F5DJfs8NEloDQ03DiC8/s320/Sandhill+Crane+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandhill Cranes and fall scenery at Malheur<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjitzYllAEY95ZZrnB4Yqwn1mJSYfCUIrez51IvL29KoKM1zbWInGyxuFuQ0UY7DFHvf5BtIRy5j9TyVcUzpj8z5GacjISEMWsPKwR7SGmQFbje-Tr15CGxiEl_Y7xj0oN-f_KjRTFCjTA/s1000/Sandhill+Crane.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjitzYllAEY95ZZrnB4Yqwn1mJSYfCUIrez51IvL29KoKM1zbWInGyxuFuQ0UY7DFHvf5BtIRy5j9TyVcUzpj8z5GacjISEMWsPKwR7SGmQFbje-Tr15CGxiEl_Y7xj0oN-f_KjRTFCjTA/s320/Sandhill+Crane.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandhill Cranes</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizx4Woe1I5QfFAjw7v1zXQkWA0Quqcxhsy9Es7t1fKm-omW8j8SFGaai9pnaZyjE1S6qPqD802Vh8NbA2BJNK1FkWqj0EvUdrHRmj8mG0Ud5H62EVhvr8j_Lt0UfMmBfnzuO6LpO8sLNM/s1000/Sympetrum+pallipes.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="769" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizx4Woe1I5QfFAjw7v1zXQkWA0Quqcxhsy9Es7t1fKm-omW8j8SFGaai9pnaZyjE1S6qPqD802Vh8NbA2BJNK1FkWqj0EvUdrHRmj8mG0Ud5H62EVhvr8j_Lt0UfMmBfnzuO6LpO8sLNM/s320/Sympetrum+pallipes.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Striped Meadowhawk, <i>Sympetrum pallipes</i>, is the most common dragonfly here this time of year.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdlYf0ox6EJXokqPyfkVRtj2A_Yva8ZauZJa1wxatDmm5jaRE5AL_9Z4aSt8kSebpLtQ-5PRLwN9CfDInjp8I1Of_plG16OE2i6S2qtMdNT-3zRzgxhdP6DpLykf5XOIGV00Dt7ar5IxI/s1000/Circotettix.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="529" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdlYf0ox6EJXokqPyfkVRtj2A_Yva8ZauZJa1wxatDmm5jaRE5AL_9Z4aSt8kSebpLtQ-5PRLwN9CfDInjp8I1Of_plG16OE2i6S2qtMdNT-3zRzgxhdP6DpLykf5XOIGV00Dt7ar5IxI/s320/Circotettix.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This grasshopper was at our lunch at Page Springs, a <i>Circotettix sp. </i>It has a very distinctive rattling song, so a species name shouldn't be too hard to nail down eventually. Blogger lets you add photos and movies, but not sound files, so you have to go to my iNaturalist observation to hear my recording. https://www.inaturalist.org/observations/58944945</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><b>September 8</b></div><div>By the next morning, all the smoke had cleared, and it dawned near freezing. We had a full day in the rich coniferous woodlands of Malheur National Forest of Grant County, hoping to fill in our gaps in the woodpecker list looking forward to chickadee and nuthatch flocks. Unfortunately, every woodpecker we saw had eight toes, but we did finally add Williamson’s Sapsucker after many stops and searches. We also added the interior or “Northern” form of Canada Jay during our very chilly morning at Swick Old Growth Grove.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcQ0TAM-nzLBaK8QjgUIDvyu49LIJuUeeD_VNsEtYAOQS0mZvhs95JahVgEjOIuBlpal2fzhA1RrHlhCHmNJGZrgfSnW8tWzLAY3k9-M_oNAQ43QUr-kCeNRNcsKM-eikL4shCP-eMQ2U/s1213/Canada+Jay+%2528Northern%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1213" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcQ0TAM-nzLBaK8QjgUIDvyu49LIJuUeeD_VNsEtYAOQS0mZvhs95JahVgEjOIuBlpal2fzhA1RrHlhCHmNJGZrgfSnW8tWzLAY3k9-M_oNAQ43QUr-kCeNRNcsKM-eikL4shCP-eMQ2U/s320/Canada+Jay+%2528Northern%2529.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Canada Jay of the interior "Northern" group<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>A Dusky Flycatcher was a nice addition, as were many Townsend’s Solitaires on our way up to the picturesque lookout on Aldrich Mountain where Ruby-crowned Kinglets were presumedly still on their breeding grounds in this bit of alpine habitat.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDc2s9FadT1IKzRSH7039_Ni1YdapYkWQUzi1W_ZwV1vEVRr0vCVHtSVvBOawS5orvnkA_ctERa9I78oBCfTd2qBuhTesOrFhy7FXo5jl92X8gp9Jtrx33klTUPSlLD1jK_xbgQn7R9H0/s1000/Cassin%2527s+Finch.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="793" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDc2s9FadT1IKzRSH7039_Ni1YdapYkWQUzi1W_ZwV1vEVRr0vCVHtSVvBOawS5orvnkA_ctERa9I78oBCfTd2qBuhTesOrFhy7FXo5jl92X8gp9Jtrx33klTUPSlLD1jK_xbgQn7R9H0/s320/Cassin%2527s+Finch.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cassin's Finch<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfm7fbFwG2ibbFJXw26vphGJ7w6aqpEhSrW2epsoW5AlnDl8pkzmsfA_uQbU_78ktWuOmarm2_XMDBaRmDM7CDkRnq_3D6ux2hf6IUHVYBhikxMkigspKspF-nyPGzKOZeKJjX5vQVWmA/s1142/Mountain+Bluebird.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1142" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfm7fbFwG2ibbFJXw26vphGJ7w6aqpEhSrW2epsoW5AlnDl8pkzmsfA_uQbU_78ktWuOmarm2_XMDBaRmDM7CDkRnq_3D6ux2hf6IUHVYBhikxMkigspKspF-nyPGzKOZeKJjX5vQVWmA/s320/Mountain+Bluebird.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mountain Bluebird<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFsLS17bMEMbkbMXml4lL1-kigEXpvoQgQJ_AuNdeZsJIXdXV16ZAzdL1lSdF53vWrBGomc4srpMQl5GhDXDGKKgBtYglXNP3j10GJM2GzfBmWTEDvQA21tTFaX1_wB7nuEYkwQUvp6Qg/s1195/bee.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1195" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFsLS17bMEMbkbMXml4lL1-kigEXpvoQgQJ_AuNdeZsJIXdXV16ZAzdL1lSdF53vWrBGomc4srpMQl5GhDXDGKKgBtYglXNP3j10GJM2GzfBmWTEDvQA21tTFaX1_wB7nuEYkwQUvp6Qg/s320/bee.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Melissodes</i> bee on top of Aldrich Mountain</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhJpgHN6N3wrOHngz10aM_X2d8E1eUMNH4uoon3njyXumVswjZL4pQLI_1ZT83-A0DtTF4SLfMfFkksPcvird4hqJXA8NsE2p5xiqLfUTKE8iVhxlfHeT-JIc-tbCRxVxhNi5EhDrDum4/s1000/borage+seeds.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="969" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhJpgHN6N3wrOHngz10aM_X2d8E1eUMNH4uoon3njyXumVswjZL4pQLI_1ZT83-A0DtTF4SLfMfFkksPcvird4hqJXA8NsE2p5xiqLfUTKE8iVhxlfHeT-JIc-tbCRxVxhNi5EhDrDum4/s320/borage+seeds.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The seeds of this boraginaceae were all over our pants, socks, and shoelaces<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Also still on territory were the very local “Slate-colored” Fox Sparrows on Murderers Creek road, a good bird to have in the bank should they ever be split.</div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2tQ05PW6CPla8_VeGlVfkyTMWCTuD7Kujn34jQXcy3YmKM5MQl1cNlJPTBbjrguyLykop9SHw3UFPAwetOCSVeh70a9RWGoRpbR86dt_oEJjb_VTuehZqOLE142JV2OLZA77YB1CqR2M/s1000/Fox+Sparrow+%2528Slate-colored%2529+%25281%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="968" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2tQ05PW6CPla8_VeGlVfkyTMWCTuD7Kujn34jQXcy3YmKM5MQl1cNlJPTBbjrguyLykop9SHw3UFPAwetOCSVeh70a9RWGoRpbR86dt_oEJjb_VTuehZqOLE142JV2OLZA77YB1CqR2M/s320/Fox+Sparrow+%2528Slate-colored%2529+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Slate-colored Fox Sparrow<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUnd9uTQim92v0CMs1q0EHDQev90-OGksKw_pZjVyN4fXZRaN7BQ3_tZ1MgLsxAeoqXt-kz1hP0EhVYE8REOtOJFC7OONOxlq_k42D-ltho-CS0rt-6AtVEVFAH3zRSQKyfBbdNsAiMww/s1000/Fox+Sparrow+%2528Slate-colored%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="726" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUnd9uTQim92v0CMs1q0EHDQev90-OGksKw_pZjVyN4fXZRaN7BQ3_tZ1MgLsxAeoqXt-kz1hP0EhVYE8REOtOJFC7OONOxlq_k42D-ltho-CS0rt-6AtVEVFAH3zRSQKyfBbdNsAiMww/s320/Fox+Sparrow+%2528Slate-colored%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Slate-colored Fox Sparrow</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After a dinner of takeout pizza, which we ate at a park in the presence of a mixed group of Brewer's and Red-winged Blackbirds, we took advantage of the calmer weather to look for Common Poorwill, of which we saw one at a distance and heard another.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>September 9</b></div><div>Our final day in the Great Basin took us to the top of Steens Mountain, Oregon’s largest fault block mountain, the highest road in the state, and the only known breeding location of Black Rosy-Finch in the state. We started with picnic breakfast, this time including fresh scrambled eggs (thanks to the handy camp stove), at the very base of the mountain in beautiful western juniper woodland, which allowed us to arrive at the East Rim looking down on the Alvord Desert below by mid-morning.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPQs-FIVT85_r3LPA_5Od95qaoiyRN277NBIZcnCaiD1_kS2S1InNI-ov_tsQsVT5a45zeefEGw8bw_vnn-ID1IwV2bjInPncsyxxJ9qx9P_SlK7zyYfwqEac7RLII5umxbByUCG-gDug/s1000/Steens+Mountain+Scenery.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPQs-FIVT85_r3LPA_5Od95qaoiyRN277NBIZcnCaiD1_kS2S1InNI-ov_tsQsVT5a45zeefEGw8bw_vnn-ID1IwV2bjInPncsyxxJ9qx9P_SlK7zyYfwqEac7RLII5umxbByUCG-gDug/s320/Steens+Mountain+Scenery.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The group on our way up the mountain on the south side of the loop.</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br />Rock Wrens were migrating through, and we noted at least six in the small area we covered. Red-breasted Nuthatches and Townsend’s Solitaires were also migrating through, as was a dashing Prairie Falcon that flew by at eye level.</div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe7qlqFBoo9w3e1DpSRyp73ijOSNKePliSbrafUxKUviclKWvCZtiRh8a2mDuIdYjjppi9rGKjvo0mZgW7YjBjIJtPSir0A7kUT_1TGeTX_ZnRDtJbh4wksVF_BbtuPaL8-OazNKsw168/s1000/Prairie+Falcon.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="569" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe7qlqFBoo9w3e1DpSRyp73ijOSNKePliSbrafUxKUviclKWvCZtiRh8a2mDuIdYjjppi9rGKjvo0mZgW7YjBjIJtPSir0A7kUT_1TGeTX_ZnRDtJbh4wksVF_BbtuPaL8-OazNKsw168/s320/Prairie+Falcon.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prairie Falcon<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />We even saw a Black Rosy-Finch immediately upon arrival, but it was a very fleeting view, and we lingered with hopes of finding a big flock. There are few places more beautiful where one can pace back and forth hoping for a bird, and we were finally rewarded by good views of a small group of rosy-finches that came in to the rimrock above remnant snow fields.</div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcYuJ2eQWytJGf4015PEmtuT63oBd4m5WnjaUPPK9Ghinqz5sI66pG4cY7F8hECN7T6Ec7gF-6Hr4SLBU__BU7lIMkkDwnjL7A7EG2lHUVJ_hDyJ1YcQYcHuFVDiDkABHpoqGfHbzcCVw/s1000/Steens+Mountain+Scenery+%25281%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcYuJ2eQWytJGf4015PEmtuT63oBd4m5WnjaUPPK9Ghinqz5sI66pG4cY7F8hECN7T6Ec7gF-6Hr4SLBU__BU7lIMkkDwnjL7A7EG2lHUVJ_hDyJ1YcQYcHuFVDiDkABHpoqGfHbzcCVw/s320/Steens+Mountain+Scenery+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was some lingering smoke from fires to the south and east below us, but the atmosphere from about 9500 feet upward (we are at 9700 feet here) was beautifully clear.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-iXOETPc782X8gu9PEndHxwgMUYFpuGvCAC89Yt6xwcw_Mx5hH6uZngPWkgFb_5JYoWO41KxuUJBC2T88GHnnBDada-hhOjEHvDSdQE-7hwDHpwf0lw4XrrUV_0qrhHjkpp4dhNJaoC8/s1000/Steens+Mountain+Scenery+%25282%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-iXOETPc782X8gu9PEndHxwgMUYFpuGvCAC89Yt6xwcw_Mx5hH6uZngPWkgFb_5JYoWO41KxuUJBC2T88GHnnBDada-hhOjEHvDSdQE-7hwDHpwf0lw4XrrUV_0qrhHjkpp4dhNJaoC8/s320/Steens+Mountain+Scenery+%25282%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibdMUKVqaH05OrzKIUFtjrR75Y5_5gZwpOrI73yUFhZtzBsEf3Szsl63cRbQun38fQBUPAmO_RxOF1UE82jNpH_Sj9axN7ElnWNpTJu8cPEvCs5o7G6Kxx2PTjsM3DBk3PRZKMOUsLrw8/s1000/Steens+Mountain+Scenery+%25283%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibdMUKVqaH05OrzKIUFtjrR75Y5_5gZwpOrI73yUFhZtzBsEf3Szsl63cRbQun38fQBUPAmO_RxOF1UE82jNpH_Sj9axN7ElnWNpTJu8cPEvCs5o7G6Kxx2PTjsM3DBk3PRZKMOUsLrw8/s320/Steens+Mountain+Scenery+%25283%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcZ33XrEEK3J-I6-LlZLKBeSy86QQm4GdCGMDdK-RXaO54wwCszi5KYSAJtk13ynRb0tBd2dkkmnCl5lf_1dRO1n6KyehrDiX7rjCjZ6uZm6R45iV-nrjHKYLehYXJeL8ovgi-SJRRVZY/s1000/Steens+Mountain+Scenery+%25284%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcZ33XrEEK3J-I6-LlZLKBeSy86QQm4GdCGMDdK-RXaO54wwCszi5KYSAJtk13ynRb0tBd2dkkmnCl5lf_1dRO1n6KyehrDiX7rjCjZ6uZm6R45iV-nrjHKYLehYXJeL8ovgi-SJRRVZY/s320/Steens+Mountain+Scenery+%25284%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kiger Gorge<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWY9ox0qCWeA6RTTX_PlupcP-Gfin2k-AyIGlqYFryLoKyHZz5c8L_5KA-dJ2LxqW3Q8WbVDTb76D5kP5DZ_a2UvmE3ITznJZj4Pv7x8GQ-shdhUrbYTf4CgaH8qYpiScKCrWyQEZS4bI/s1000/Bradynotes+obesa.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="487" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWY9ox0qCWeA6RTTX_PlupcP-Gfin2k-AyIGlqYFryLoKyHZz5c8L_5KA-dJ2LxqW3Q8WbVDTb76D5kP5DZ_a2UvmE3ITznJZj4Pv7x8GQ-shdhUrbYTf4CgaH8qYpiScKCrWyQEZS4bI/s320/Bradynotes+obesa.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Slow Mountain Grasshopper, <i>Bradynotes obesa</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjMNhw1Lt2YBzD7ugmIvzGs_A3phdcpqzGLe3oZdR-9OoEjt-HHdnXnlawJsKtqi-wrB-4P-1pIJAaz0kOi3EIfZA5OwOda43AH3BggjnuSIjpLRoyMg_spZnKUHEW3_sHM6LP-70NGks/s1341/Lupinus+lepidus+var.+lobbii.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1341" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjMNhw1Lt2YBzD7ugmIvzGs_A3phdcpqzGLe3oZdR-9OoEjt-HHdnXnlawJsKtqi-wrB-4P-1pIJAaz0kOi3EIfZA5OwOda43AH3BggjnuSIjpLRoyMg_spZnKUHEW3_sHM6LP-70NGks/s320/Lupinus+lepidus+var.+lobbii.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lobb's Lupine, <i>Lupinus lepidus var. lobbii</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1pirgMWxvWKZEsV6R1SJ8Q8kseIXUpw7Utdgb_BGmdyeqCQryE_3AVzpcnPJMOK_sRqY8AEJaGZk3wWo6m7Dp9hMjHaei8_YiL0xNPt9RyREWyyoAVL0NkThNYhm0tmgAgeKlprd6Vgk/s1188/Sericomyia+flagrans.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1188" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1pirgMWxvWKZEsV6R1SJ8Q8kseIXUpw7Utdgb_BGmdyeqCQryE_3AVzpcnPJMOK_sRqY8AEJaGZk3wWo6m7Dp9hMjHaei8_YiL0xNPt9RyREWyyoAVL0NkThNYhm0tmgAgeKlprd6Vgk/s320/Sericomyia+flagrans.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spot-winged Pond Fly, <i>Sericomyia flagrans</i>, presumably hilltopping</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih5J29zjBHj4wd7qoC0sHMXSbeeFdPPt0P1NBDC4eWrMVVNhONESGxH3x04KYDF_ymbaUE6GGffD7jCViIT1fR1Aih9xW4El46eT18RSAo0bIkBBKtBaIgw3563VBIZ3leNE9rdHs5CwY/s1000/Xanthippus+corallipes.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="497" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih5J29zjBHj4wd7qoC0sHMXSbeeFdPPt0P1NBDC4eWrMVVNhONESGxH3x04KYDF_ymbaUE6GGffD7jCViIT1fR1Aih9xW4El46eT18RSAo0bIkBBKtBaIgw3563VBIZ3leNE9rdHs5CwY/s320/Xanthippus+corallipes.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red-shanked Grasshopper, <i>Xanthippus corallipes</i></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz8TcAuu63fzx2NVZFuiLWW8kU8IueWXBkwPHZXdWFiIM2RbYz9BECPQkY-UZZqdB8vh4cOHxE9zCNLKL7FY6140EjByOI4i0q3eQfSWwduT9Ezw6vKTz2XbMQaYwa9pL7qVxhGvzsXNE/s1000/Xanthippus+corallipes+%25281%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz8TcAuu63fzx2NVZFuiLWW8kU8IueWXBkwPHZXdWFiIM2RbYz9BECPQkY-UZZqdB8vh4cOHxE9zCNLKL7FY6140EjByOI4i0q3eQfSWwduT9Ezw6vKTz2XbMQaYwa9pL7qVxhGvzsXNE/s320/Xanthippus+corallipes+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red-shanked Grasshopper, <i>Xanthippus corallipes</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnF0BP7tuFROHSfAq6EeTebdBBz5xrnccgNqfFRxPAFw6vvibUI_R7MRE_PEILle2mCRQ3x5aO7kDEje28DC0I0HPiEGl8gp-CHXvOhbl-q8lloQHt3uwK-XQchIpbxbqCDr4AezXCS-o/s1000/Ferruginous+Hawk.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnF0BP7tuFROHSfAq6EeTebdBBz5xrnccgNqfFRxPAFw6vvibUI_R7MRE_PEILle2mCRQ3x5aO7kDEje28DC0I0HPiEGl8gp-CHXvOhbl-q8lloQHt3uwK-XQchIpbxbqCDr4AezXCS-o/s320/Ferruginous+Hawk.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A very distant Ferruginous Hawk in bad heat shimmer, but this is better than we could see it through the binoculars.<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuoctd_i0ZCeOZV8kPTkvfykvMchX5r9PFSSOvmknP5gr00jeReUSdjALJKCGxYFUgaeUoVhiXLaY8TrskYe3z_VX_1DPfcjKJfQwl0ubAr4RSjqqY-aISwCB6D15pOMWUMCDhEBi36eo/s1000/10+Tanker+Air+Carrier.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="431" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuoctd_i0ZCeOZV8kPTkvfykvMchX5r9PFSSOvmknP5gr00jeReUSdjALJKCGxYFUgaeUoVhiXLaY8TrskYe3z_VX_1DPfcjKJfQwl0ubAr4RSjqqY-aISwCB6D15pOMWUMCDhEBi36eo/s320/10+Tanker+Air+Carrier.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For what appeared to be a passenger jet, this was way too low – not far above us at 9700 feet elevation. We didn't recognize the colors from any airline either. It turns out to be a jet on its way to help fight the fires that at this point have been raging in western Oregon for the past two days, and the most likely route here would have been from Salt Lake City to Redmond. More and better photos of these jets can be seen on their website, https://www.10tanker.com/<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div>We lunched among the quaking aspen groves at one of the campgrounds on the way back down the mountain and there we found our first Red-naped Sapsucker perched motionless and almost invisibly by a patch of much more apparent sapsucker wells.</div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhltXQPeFRCpsFaAwpk-_JAH_By0VbTZxAkp1ykEaJAxGyxB8Fq_CyktR4yu9Wbie7rbXIh0kacRC2RfVpE9TYtHpNPjC8Um3AGhqORV1UJpGEdI8s-DzK11KnSv4buaO5nLCLRIPa1tJg/s1453/Red-naped+Sapsucker.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1453" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhltXQPeFRCpsFaAwpk-_JAH_By0VbTZxAkp1ykEaJAxGyxB8Fq_CyktR4yu9Wbie7rbXIh0kacRC2RfVpE9TYtHpNPjC8Um3AGhqORV1UJpGEdI8s-DzK11KnSv4buaO5nLCLRIPa1tJg/s320/Red-naped+Sapsucker.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red-naped Sapsucker<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div>We also caught up with the locally breeding, dark-lored oriantha White-crowned Sparrows that hadn’t begun their migration to Mexico yet. With time to stop by Page Springs Campground at the base of the mountain, we caught up almost immediately with the stakeout Plumbeous Vireo that was singing on territory.</div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB5jM5GigJFoNuh2wLaE3HxFcwskiMaMmppVDh8qEAoQrgiD8YUV4vXbu12A31rBbLOd-eZqZz71A8MXW4jE_DDtKYu0XUVwdb2TK3u-iirdX0zfqW8kCecL3b4C-PphiDwslTmTCtMFs/s1000/Plumbeous+Vireo.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="933" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB5jM5GigJFoNuh2wLaE3HxFcwskiMaMmppVDh8qEAoQrgiD8YUV4vXbu12A31rBbLOd-eZqZz71A8MXW4jE_DDtKYu0XUVwdb2TK3u-iirdX0zfqW8kCecL3b4C-PphiDwslTmTCtMFs/s320/Plumbeous+Vireo.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plumbeous Vireo<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeX-j76WS9iNGD-7C_QUQReBq7KVnz-n6nBOMNwyLAw_k76-A4kfCKiX8O58ghYCh_6J-vQ2fd48sNzCmZ-58x42cP1K0VMuBDQh52XvY6ySPzG_UowGQ3AAux5qxSUskQIlS6QfJg-2w/s1777/Great+Horned+Owl.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1777" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeX-j76WS9iNGD-7C_QUQReBq7KVnz-n6nBOMNwyLAw_k76-A4kfCKiX8O58ghYCh_6J-vQ2fd48sNzCmZ-58x42cP1K0VMuBDQh52XvY6ySPzG_UowGQ3AAux5qxSUskQIlS6QfJg-2w/s320/Great+Horned+Owl.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Great Horned Owl in the Pete French Round Barn<br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><br />We finished the long day back at the refuge headquarters where we had our final picnic dinner, this time a lamb curry with Nepali dal bhat and a dessert of chocolate mousse.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwggYaFQn-cLfrvrnH7t_RlBlEzOm6QTE5NsCsy02W1AV7Blf5fzOXhteCsEPEreoGBFY-ORXrQzhJgsn5WO1w9VL7jBEwqma1jBoADbugQ3PaC_OZepuZxQDJPluz6l4QOcsk250-Ghw/s1000/Malheur+NWR+HQ.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwggYaFQn-cLfrvrnH7t_RlBlEzOm6QTE5NsCsy02W1AV7Blf5fzOXhteCsEPEreoGBFY-ORXrQzhJgsn5WO1w9VL7jBEwqma1jBoADbugQ3PaC_OZepuZxQDJPluz6l4QOcsk250-Ghw/s320/Malheur+NWR+HQ.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where we had our final picnic dinner.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLc4t2QHiuMEzV0IAUqFNVyCeZs_O4SdqzCAfhiE6sRk866AsWSAqP2S_b8zcIxsyPX7mWtUZYd4j4hA7aTCQ-rOnLxD4Spvu3M59HtHwmqrnZr2q46PKpKchK6gKxKI1yKoP839mpA6Y/s1323/Osprey.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1323" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLc4t2QHiuMEzV0IAUqFNVyCeZs_O4SdqzCAfhiE6sRk866AsWSAqP2S_b8zcIxsyPX7mWtUZYd4j4hA7aTCQ-rOnLxD4Spvu3M59HtHwmqrnZr2q46PKpKchK6gKxKI1yKoP839mpA6Y/s320/Osprey.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Osprey at Malheur NWR Headquarters<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><b>September 10</b><br /><div>The last day of the main tour began with a freezing spritz from lawn sprinklers that were timed to go off by the picnic tables right at breakfast time. So we moved to the sunlight as icicles sparkled at a safe distance. Nevertheless, a pair of Red-naped Sapsuckers were a nice find here, and just down the road was our second Bald Eagle of the tour.</div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFVCSOYBkDLOULoUdYocbB5e3ZETcQto6novrljGITLilfaiGrOdwgSvkjoPncbmkFNda784D6MWg4ZZX6qUQxWHaQu2OcON61R530TKjJa9EPVrXAouDu_Kz4TXGQCxUxIS8txT3oegA/s1000/Ice+in+sprinkler.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFVCSOYBkDLOULoUdYocbB5e3ZETcQto6novrljGITLilfaiGrOdwgSvkjoPncbmkFNda784D6MWg4ZZX6qUQxWHaQu2OcON61R530TKjJa9EPVrXAouDu_Kz4TXGQCxUxIS8txT3oegA/s320/Ice+in+sprinkler.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An icy morning at picnic breakfast!</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The weekday closure of the John Day Fossil Bed National Monument visitor center gave us more time to look for birds, which it turned out we needed.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg53wQEjn3isuhXJXg85ReJATxJxPPB691P0QH4KGIvJfFQpifuP0z9kYxlcYBne0LWO7-BPLzozrunpEc61-IzCwOzHu5uN0uRNPFF5nPSn6GAtDD4NOwqrbMek9qpFDevQqncUtJfam8/s1000/John+Day+Fossil+Beds+view+%25281%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg53wQEjn3isuhXJXg85ReJATxJxPPB691P0QH4KGIvJfFQpifuP0z9kYxlcYBne0LWO7-BPLzozrunpEc61-IzCwOzHu5uN0uRNPFF5nPSn6GAtDD4NOwqrbMek9qpFDevQqncUtJfam8/s320/John+Day+Fossil+Beds+view+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzY5Ph1jNq-Sjxsae_j0I-_4C8LnLuCgCmnq6Ng032UTpYakNJjtiNAgG0l3N_QB99OVBfh7Tlsoe6diTgfWuDsSsXeMmipYYU-mhyphenhyphen8JCR6m0FVYh7HoRgIaniLS9eFT2jAoWTvnPiXu4/s1000/John+Day+Fossil+Beds+view.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzY5Ph1jNq-Sjxsae_j0I-_4C8LnLuCgCmnq6Ng032UTpYakNJjtiNAgG0l3N_QB99OVBfh7Tlsoe6diTgfWuDsSsXeMmipYYU-mhyphenhyphen8JCR6m0FVYh7HoRgIaniLS9eFT2jAoWTvnPiXu4/s320/John+Day+Fossil+Beds+view.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />At lunch we were treated to a show by a very curious and heavily molting Canyon Wren, and then just a few miles down the road we made a slight detour to look for a Summer Tanager that had been found just 16 days earlier (and ended staying on another nine) at a peach orchard. Patience was rewarded when the bird appeared with a migrant Western Tanager, and we then rewarded the orchard by buying a bunch of peaches and honey.</div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMYbHXk3XvWTLO81Up0pA092w9GAvEYTi7r6JcM6EhBASuOU9FUhkSCNbDkWmkOL2X5_KvN30gjDROOR2c6nV49QcVxTnLVFuxWlcTcg8tiMXpmZ0MXJODTJEWp5Hk_H3f0CZmKclJ4Gk/s1000/Canyon+Wren+and+moon.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMYbHXk3XvWTLO81Up0pA092w9GAvEYTi7r6JcM6EhBASuOU9FUhkSCNbDkWmkOL2X5_KvN30gjDROOR2c6nV49QcVxTnLVFuxWlcTcg8tiMXpmZ0MXJODTJEWp5Hk_H3f0CZmKclJ4Gk/s320/Canyon+Wren+and+moon.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Canyon Wren and the Moon<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiePs_iPQRNkS4IkpIcHPILlHUjCN-hxyueVi_BZZIjMUJn_G1I_VSkI-tF_Ab7J-j35sIr9jYaMtGgaVgQRrfbNCPWRTju08A915akFFQ7JVlwTnMOBEnRrZlQ73CRzbB6eH-LokKdmY/s1000/Summer+Tanager.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="778" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiePs_iPQRNkS4IkpIcHPILlHUjCN-hxyueVi_BZZIjMUJn_G1I_VSkI-tF_Ab7J-j35sIr9jYaMtGgaVgQRrfbNCPWRTju08A915akFFQ7JVlwTnMOBEnRrZlQ73CRzbB6eH-LokKdmY/s320/Summer+Tanager.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Summer Tanager<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Among the dozens of birders who saw the tanager, we had only the second local sighting of an Anna’s Hummingbird, rare in this part of Oregon. Looking forward to an outdoor grill dinner at Multnomah Falls, we were instead greeted there by a wall of smoke pushing eastward up gorge from the fires that had blown out of control in western Oregon just three days earlier; out of health concerns, they had just closed the grill. We at least did see the falls, had a glimpse of our second American Dipper, and then continued westward to have our farewell dinner at the restaurant next to our airport area hotel.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqe6SpsT8mrGMImPvKFMLwz9DNr1E0C3GIIASvSz-b3uCcUrD-n3YC_NuYcTfUWYRYLs9b_KiLGfrGHCAzEgFO2TCNGQF6_P7YJxw8pQXjTc4QApxzJEvPEsvBUO5mvjib8TZW6TcF8uI/s1333/Multnomah+Falls.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1333" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqe6SpsT8mrGMImPvKFMLwz9DNr1E0C3GIIASvSz-b3uCcUrD-n3YC_NuYcTfUWYRYLs9b_KiLGfrGHCAzEgFO2TCNGQF6_P7YJxw8pQXjTc4QApxzJEvPEsvBUO5mvjib8TZW6TcF8uI/s320/Multnomah+Falls.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaeRaygBdUPK6feRvCYzoWMkPkfq0BBWn0S66pc76zqcbMasaIfdGCYIxs-ieJEVYQPDoUXWyOO9dHsRPe87YqqiNVjdVxsTb1GA6QpN4dYGfWDAbnLifJEisl2gKXyQSxfE65NlFfCk4/s1000/Sun+through+forest+fire+smoke.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="861" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaeRaygBdUPK6feRvCYzoWMkPkfq0BBWn0S66pc76zqcbMasaIfdGCYIxs-ieJEVYQPDoUXWyOO9dHsRPe87YqqiNVjdVxsTb1GA6QpN4dYGfWDAbnLifJEisl2gKXyQSxfE65NlFfCk4/s320/Sun+through+forest+fire+smoke.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The early evening sun through dense of forest fire smoke<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>September 11</b></div><div>Pelagic Addendum:</div><div><br /></div><div>The pelagic extension went smoothly, though fog and smoke were a bit of a barrier to perfection. The first morning stop at Fernhill Wetlands was full of water birds, including views of both Sora and Virginia Rail. A small fire close to the coast had closed Highway 101 in the previous two days, but this morning it was opened, so we were able to continue directly to the Nehalem area and then work our way down the picturesque coast as planned. A highlight at Nehalem was a huge flock of 31 Baird’s Sandpipers in one group; in Oregon even groups as many as 10 raise eyebrows.</div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisV4b2FC8B3PrzO8TbIKlmyM0gwDHaJWFXiRdThJTWYRXKgU9ffESFgonl7raHuuI9JaMONxr25XBeo3w5HHRFS6AY4OcF9tHRi-qOfdgXOxU4EeS7dbbLmwEYaI4RXeROW5cccJMYm6o/s2941/Bank+Swallow.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="2941" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisV4b2FC8B3PrzO8TbIKlmyM0gwDHaJWFXiRdThJTWYRXKgU9ffESFgonl7raHuuI9JaMONxr25XBeo3w5HHRFS6AY4OcF9tHRi-qOfdgXOxU4EeS7dbbLmwEYaI4RXeROW5cccJMYm6o/s320/Bank+Swallow.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Barn, Bank, and Violet-green Swallows at Nehalem Sewage Ponds<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5KwOHo37t2MBJJWwc-P-z12usxUATod_L6GNC30oTSnyVTlHzOCxnZmRslxY-g4jBQwcmIMrUAyG7NiTNdbbILuc0YIrzkEBYilDuc-pNQ4RldYFguXys4S0lLp4aHabhFNTwDKDizGM/s1425/Cliff+Swallow.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="846" data-original-width="1425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5KwOHo37t2MBJJWwc-P-z12usxUATod_L6GNC30oTSnyVTlHzOCxnZmRslxY-g4jBQwcmIMrUAyG7NiTNdbbILuc0YIrzkEBYilDuc-pNQ4RldYFguXys4S0lLp4aHabhFNTwDKDizGM/s320/Cliff+Swallow.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A very late Cliff Swallow, and the only one on the tour, at Nehalem Sewage Ponds<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHxIEKPFiif5uFQmiIlnm2no_j9Jw-ketkF6htB05sB9HevEIUndh7ITgZr2gUlqduTnpjDiodDmxJIMIUy4BzLyXTriaZfRnvdYNI-8aO1ZUWLfjltTweVx1IW7QOzBslj1tNCTUpTLo/s1000/Baird%2527s+Sandpiper.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="467" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHxIEKPFiif5uFQmiIlnm2no_j9Jw-ketkF6htB05sB9HevEIUndh7ITgZr2gUlqduTnpjDiodDmxJIMIUy4BzLyXTriaZfRnvdYNI-8aO1ZUWLfjltTweVx1IW7QOzBslj1tNCTUpTLo/s320/Baird%2527s+Sandpiper.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eight Baird's and two Western Sandpipers are in this photo.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYoO6Dx1wBjLro4-HnY_7B6kWOmx0gXJXLuufY4qrOnmoipYxm-pBlYeKcI-5vvbhNtpH3Yc7-YfUocJrpzAK2HiFNu-_qt9y2K3U6YU1IZVqkr4Fq0yGsekZqWhlbyLAJsOmpe1AKX7E/s1000/White-crowned+Sparrow.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="770" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYoO6Dx1wBjLro4-HnY_7B6kWOmx0gXJXLuufY4qrOnmoipYxm-pBlYeKcI-5vvbhNtpH3Yc7-YfUocJrpzAK2HiFNu-_qt9y2K3U6YU1IZVqkr4Fq0yGsekZqWhlbyLAJsOmpe1AKX7E/s320/White-crowned+Sparrow.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">White-crowned Sparrow, a very common local breeder<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOhdiTDoQJb6GEO6Gu66t62dFtNIXE4qO6BDOt_RuosWPDiuY6F-x4xsH2BcjjzpVwivfJ3U1qoqPKHAxfxetuNqgB4z2nLg-BdWEVfTcpnrb8eZ7ErqRyE_PwX8Dv-XQnIWpWHHheH1Q/s1076/Red-breasted+Nuthatch.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1076" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOhdiTDoQJb6GEO6Gu66t62dFtNIXE4qO6BDOt_RuosWPDiuY6F-x4xsH2BcjjzpVwivfJ3U1qoqPKHAxfxetuNqgB4z2nLg-BdWEVfTcpnrb8eZ7ErqRyE_PwX8Dv-XQnIWpWHHheH1Q/s320/Red-breasted+Nuthatch.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red-breasted Nuthatch, perhaps a southbound migrant.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrGR1D__aZt2XQ079sctn_B5XjS_1WwoTpzDtc85PZvG_cVV-Vj61zSA9hijorikWJOGqBpPDEw1LQHbvMVmAwBtvyokjysFvlgedFbUUmGP_urP3lEdJrmq_TsUlV-CHc9H98S185n-s/s1000/Nuttallia+obscurata.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="771" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrGR1D__aZt2XQ079sctn_B5XjS_1WwoTpzDtc85PZvG_cVV-Vj61zSA9hijorikWJOGqBpPDEw1LQHbvMVmAwBtvyokjysFvlgedFbUUmGP_urP3lEdJrmq_TsUlV-CHc9H98S185n-s/s320/Nuttallia+obscurata.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It seemed like a lovely clam at the time, but later I learned this is the introduced Purple Mahogany Clam, <i>Nuttallia obscurata</i>, native to eastern Asia.<br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho2Z-ytz6vIlKQm-WoHto_-3nTCA2wPv1oiUrHMV1MD034JSRUthfyPpGTnMfT99WiLMha3B1HkjggzqlrjcNOs4NIJuCkFw0JtJc7sEcTGF0Y5fFsPpMOamcjniJj7XG8Cwdy2vBZ3ww/s1559/Glaucous-winged+Gull.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1559" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho2Z-ytz6vIlKQm-WoHto_-3nTCA2wPv1oiUrHMV1MD034JSRUthfyPpGTnMfT99WiLMha3B1HkjggzqlrjcNOs4NIJuCkFw0JtJc7sEcTGF0Y5fFsPpMOamcjniJj7XG8Cwdy2vBZ3ww/s320/Glaucous-winged+Gull.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Glaucous-winged Gull demonstrates the correct way to eat an Ochre Sea Star<br /></td></tr></tbody></table></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>South of Nehalem we drove into fog, which persisted into the next day. While it did mean that the pelagic trip was pleasantly calm with smooth seas, it also meant we didn’t see many birds at a distance, which hampered the bird list. On the other hand, those that were there we saw extraordinarily well. Fork-tailed Storm-Petrel is not rare, but it isn’t guaranteed either, and sometimes it’s missed, or the only sighting is a quick fly-by. It turned out to be the most abundant species on the trip with the leaders eBirding a total of 184, and other highlights were Black-footed Albatross, Pink-footed and Sooty Shearwaters, Sabine’s Gulls, and Cassin’s Auklet. A very quick fly-by of South Polar Skua was the boat’s only skua or jaeger of any kind and was missed by most people, something that can be blamed on the fog. But as is always the case, in order to get to know those far-flung birds, you have to take many pelagic trips, always a learning experience.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGUfEUC1CjAr_adaPEQrz89AIUdBapp_BiEQy9XrLqtPbTj9YtXDE60i58TZfwR8ckFSjgqrAFh0DKQBbtzIy2OnUfvo1kTNfxReoEzuDhpovScBeRPLGawUNrUcPiQ3KYIyL7VmE5IW4/s1000/Aurelia+labiata.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="783" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGUfEUC1CjAr_adaPEQrz89AIUdBapp_BiEQy9XrLqtPbTj9YtXDE60i58TZfwR8ckFSjgqrAFh0DKQBbtzIy2OnUfvo1kTNfxReoEzuDhpovScBeRPLGawUNrUcPiQ3KYIyL7VmE5IW4/s320/Aurelia+labiata.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moon Jellies, <i>Aurelia labiata</i>, were abundant this trip.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBadjq_NGKfd4_smbZrZFnYvk_JuzVLYk3FaYbAXKPWGXsJC6PV-_Ne0Jp8wmRLtLtNxZgWlB7rUvIYsNmTuf6QAKzBtJXawjA6g2nkJX6fVUXS_7CZdn6OylI_GA_lFa277YbtHsA2cY/s1000/Black-footed+Albatross.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="758" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBadjq_NGKfd4_smbZrZFnYvk_JuzVLYk3FaYbAXKPWGXsJC6PV-_Ne0Jp8wmRLtLtNxZgWlB7rUvIYsNmTuf6QAKzBtJXawjA6g2nkJX6fVUXS_7CZdn6OylI_GA_lFa277YbtHsA2cY/s320/Black-footed+Albatross.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black-footed Albatross<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVf6mw9sZIRVE0MP_PHWsGji_ymMVv_iKkpXocvemYrLoAr0t19W8e7lOq_9wly9IZ2ZwAI-tA7nlEGccPzazWIRhkKPPNbOpS1DZn8Hsxs7dKn4farjqBQKutiCwSKsuf-nEQ0xZ5u0Y/s1227/Fork-tailed+Storm-Petrel.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1227" data-original-width="846" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVf6mw9sZIRVE0MP_PHWsGji_ymMVv_iKkpXocvemYrLoAr0t19W8e7lOq_9wly9IZ2ZwAI-tA7nlEGccPzazWIRhkKPPNbOpS1DZn8Hsxs7dKn4farjqBQKutiCwSKsuf-nEQ0xZ5u0Y/s320/Fork-tailed+Storm-Petrel.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fork-tailed Storm-Petrel<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo8626Hn8623ZOlzog4TkPEA11pn352AtZ-IgKcfILY5WLUl6A5r0tc-3-nDfXnFM5QRwKS0HmgyVri1ZfZ0LgytuQNIogZPs2x7YxQBbo_2xNPMnsAJdr9Bs8D-OiUletAe8-9vFNGEQ/s1000/Group+on+pelagic+trip+in+fog.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="609" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo8626Hn8623ZOlzog4TkPEA11pn352AtZ-IgKcfILY5WLUl6A5r0tc-3-nDfXnFM5QRwKS0HmgyVri1ZfZ0LgytuQNIogZPs2x7YxQBbo_2xNPMnsAJdr9Bs8D-OiUletAe8-9vFNGEQ/s320/Group+on+pelagic+trip+in+fog.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Most people politely kept their masks on, even though everything we know about the virus tells us getting infected in this environment is essentially impossible.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoOzNSay1zLNp1a6fzd36IQ79WGUmlPWHmpC86QPb4aGKiJTW5-XhADXiZX27CW01if9xfMCriYI5SbSLT4pP42na35r2U-UZdJ3bvF0I0Le8TrS9IcCUGBWD63YuFHr2C4I3l_CnXJrU/s1000/Prionace+glauca+%25281%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="555" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoOzNSay1zLNp1a6fzd36IQ79WGUmlPWHmpC86QPb4aGKiJTW5-XhADXiZX27CW01if9xfMCriYI5SbSLT4pP42na35r2U-UZdJ3bvF0I0Le8TrS9IcCUGBWD63YuFHr2C4I3l_CnXJrU/s320/Prionace+glauca+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was a bit of discussion about what this shark might be, but Blue Shark, <i>Prionace glauca</i>, seems to be the most common and likely species that behaves like this in this region. The lack of blue color can entirely be attributed to the dense fog.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpAUb3A6x6K6uCPnAANfGyxJkS0p2suXxL_wXGk0eSvbpJTyT_O77nfduYERuSqZ7Addo3ge8ImkElMNPj75GLoZbbJ39EbMEeZLMdU_K2r7joA6Qy8PRzzuJRqYPFyPDTPL9YC0y4-08/s1000/Prionace+glauca.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="373" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpAUb3A6x6K6uCPnAANfGyxJkS0p2suXxL_wXGk0eSvbpJTyT_O77nfduYERuSqZ7Addo3ge8ImkElMNPj75GLoZbbJ39EbMEeZLMdU_K2r7joA6Qy8PRzzuJRqYPFyPDTPL9YC0y4-08/s320/Prionace+glauca.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBvRIj_FXljbXTa3hv5adHkI0pqriOaeo2azn8HHXM477jNHiQ5NxtNASkQV3oe9gqPByLT2TfBgogb5-I2vZzTG5zKGKRmoDohhmGhXjFnRCJQ9uVHTdFkf_j_Jpm8-o6WbBzTiaa4IA/s1000/Sabine%2527s+Gull.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBvRIj_FXljbXTa3hv5adHkI0pqriOaeo2azn8HHXM477jNHiQ5NxtNASkQV3oe9gqPByLT2TfBgogb5-I2vZzTG5zKGKRmoDohhmGhXjFnRCJQ9uVHTdFkf_j_Jpm8-o6WbBzTiaa4IA/s320/Sabine%2527s+Gull.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sabine's Gull</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div>Birdernaturalisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04839261136397086450noreply@blogger.com0