Thursday, November 3, 2016

Packing It In At Home

With just over two weeks at home in Tucson, I packed in quite a few activities before heading for a three-week trip to Ecuador and Peru – dinner with friends, a couple birding outings, working in the garden, and even a quick jaunt to Utah to visit family.

One of the local outings was to Finger Rock Canyon on the northern edge of Tucson for my friend Kim’s twelve-year-old daughter Dawn, who is uncommonly keen about bugs for a pre-teen girl. I enlisted the help of my friend Margarethe Brummermann, who really knows her bugs, to help encourage Dawn’s interest by taking her out on her first bugging walk. It was pretty dry and hot, there was not a ton of activity, and like any girl her age she often got bored and impatient. But when we found something, Dawn was energized. Here she is with a Mexican Bush Katydid.

She had an amazing eye for spotting little things, such as this tiny nymph of what Margarethe suspected was a plant bug.

There were plenty of fascinating bees and wasps finding nectar at blooming dodder and a buckwheat plant, but Dawn was afraid of them – while dashing after to grab grasshoppers and almost any other bug. She waited impatiently for me to take photos of these grasshoppers, which she is still learning how to hold without letting them slip away.

Rhammatocerus viatorius, Traveller Grasshopper
Rhammatocerus viatorius, Traveller Grasshopper

Horesidotes cinereus, Ash-gray Range Grasshopper
Horesidotes cinereus, Ash-gray Range Grasshopper

It was a lovely area in any event. Here’s looking upcanyon towards the namesake and then downcanyon over Tucson.


I also had a great morning of birding, the first I’ve done in Arizona since the Pine Flycatcher in early June, with my friends Keith and Patty along the Santa Cruz River just south of Tumacacori. We found a Black-and-white Warbler, of which I got a lousy photo.
Black-and-white Warbler

With it was a trio of vireos: Huttons’, Cassin’s, and this Plumbeous.
Plumbeous Vireo

We saw many other great birds (Gray Hawk, Painted and Varied Buntings), but as we walked down the stream bed (in rubber boots), I got distracted by the diversity of odonates – at least six species of damselflies and two dragonflies were present at once, and I got photos of the following:

Argia nahuana, Aztec Dancer
Argia nahuana, Aztec Dancer

Argia pallens, Amethyst Dancer
Argia pallens, Amethyst Dancer

Argia sedula, Blue-ringed Dancer
Argia sedula, Blue-ringed Dancer

Hetaerina americana, American Rubyspot
Hetaerina americana, American Rubyspot

A lifer for me was this Copaeodes minima, Southern Skipperling, which used to be only very rare in the state but has apparently staged an invasion the past couple of years near the border. From reports I could find online, this might be the farthest north so far though.
Copaeodes minima, Southern Skipperling

My trip to Utah was spurred by the birth of my neice Cherice’s baby this past February, whom I hadn’t met yet. This happy, amazingly adorable cherub, looking like a China doll even in real life is Bentley Eolah Erkkila, my sister’s fifth grandchild.

It was good to see the whole family, here my sister, her husband, and their five daughters. The other four grandkids were playing around the house.

I also visited my brother and his family, and failed to get any photos there, except for the morning I went out birding at Farmington Bay the day before the weather was supposed to get bad. I found a Lesser Black-backed Gull there (the larger, darker gull with yellow legs; the others are California Gulls), which wasn’t quite as rare as I had thought. Ten years ago it would have had all the state listers there in a flash, but now they expect two or three each year.
Lesser Black-backed Gull

I still have to spend time looking up most grasshoppers I find, but this one I recognized right away, Melanoplus differentialis, Differential Grasshopper, based on those distinctive black herringbone marks on the femur.
Melanoplus differentialis, Differential Grasshopper

Speaking of grasshoppers, while running errands at home, I often bike though a neighborhood about 1/2 mile south of me we call the “dirt road neighborhood.” Parcels are several acres, one-story houses are set well off the roads, and the habitat is largely the original cactus and creosote bush desert scrub that once covered countless square miles of the valley here. It’s now an extremely rare island in the urban sprawl filled with introduced Mediterranean, South African, and Australian plants. Every time I passed through here on my bicycle (remember, I don’t own a car), I heard a distinctive clicking I didn’t recognize, and I finally stopped once and found a few of these small grasshoppers holding territories in individual creosote bushes (Larrea divaricata var. tridentata). It didn’t take too much time to find that they are Ligurotettix coquilletti, the Desert Clicker Grasshopper.
Ligurotettix coquilletti, Desert Clicker Grasshopper

They were easy to approach and find, continuing to click at close quarters, unlike most insects that stop at the first sign of danger. If you get too close, these little orthopterans do hop and fly, but unlike most grasshoppers, they are lightning fast and land with the precision of a fly on a tiny twig on the opposite side of the bush. I had never seen anything like it in a grasshopper, some of which bonk into trees or land in rivers in their typically random escape methods. These then begin clicking again within a minute, certain of their ability to evade the next predatory attempt. It took me several tries of catching one before I got one for closer photos of the entire bug. I returned later with my camera, tripod, and sound recording equipment (a Sennheiser ME67 microphone and Olympus LS14 digital recorder), and made this video. The camera does record sound with the video, but it’s not very good, so I learned to use iMovie to replace the camera’s video sound with the file I made with my superior recording equipment. I was rather pleased with the outcome.



To complete the blog, here’s a single photo of the halfway point of the rejuvenation of my winter vegetable garden. It’s only 91 square feet (10 x 10 minus a 3 x 3 square to accommodate the agave), but it took most of four days to do a “double dig” that felt more like a “triple dig.” It basically involved removing all the mesquite rootlets that rob the water before anything else can get it by digging at least two feet down. I then incorporated five large bags of peat moss to add badly needed organic material, added four more lines of drip hose, replanted the few plants that had been struggling along (a tomato, three peppers, a Thai basil), and then sowed seeds of 27 kinds of winter veggies. Timer set to water it for 45 minutes each day, then off to Ecuador and Peru.

Tuesday, October 25, 2016

A Week on Monhegan Island

Right after my Oregon tour I was treated to a blissful week of birding in a totally new location for me, Monhegan Island, Maine by my friends Beth McCollough and Will Russell.

WINGS has long offered a delightful week-long tour here during the peak of fall migration, and Will timed our visit to coincide with the tour led by Derek Lovitch, and he rented what’s known to everyone here as the Red House ­– 3 bedrooms, 1 1/2 bathrooms, living room, full kitchen, and a mud room – for ourselves and Derek (while the WINGS participants stayed in the inn a very short walk away).

We each walked around the island a few hours each day, seeing what new migrants were coming through, and enjoying the scenery and socializing with the many birders there to do the same thing. Roads give access to the inhabited southwestern corner of the island, while trails crisscross throughout and circumnavigate the perimeter.

Double-crested Cormorant and Common Eider were common on the shorelines.

We encountered lots of migrant birds, but I didn’t get photos of many. We saw anywhere from one to nearly a dozen Merlins each day.

Blue Jays were actually migratory here – we could see flocks of them flying around the island, thinking about heading over the water back to the mainland, about 10 miles away.

There were some days with obvious waves of Red-breasted Nuthatches.

Yellow-bellied Flycatcher was scarce; I think I saw just two.

Black-billed Cuckoo is pretty rare here, so lots of birders gathered to see this one.

Yellow-crowned Night-Heron used to be extremely rare anywhere in Maine, but now a few show up every year, and this week there were at least two on the island.

Monhegan Island is the best place in Maine to see a few western migrants, such as Lark Sparrow and Clay-colored Sparrow. Here are both together, along with a Chipping Sparrow in the foreground.

Dickcissel is also pretty rare in Maine, but quite regular on the island. I had scattered some seed by our house attracted at least three and several Purple Finches.

Of course, I took photos of all sorts ot things on my daily hikes. This is the slime mold Fuligo septica, along one of the forest trails.

The forested part of the island is lovely.


Lycaena hyllus, Bronze Copper

Melanoplus femurrubrum, Red-legged Grasshopper

Sympetrum obtrusum, White-faced Meadowhawk

Vespula maculifrons, Eastern Yellowjacket

Thamnophis sirtalis, Common Garter Snake

Viburnum nudum, Possumhaw

Minke Whale

Beth and I also had fun every day in the kitchen. These next three photos are from her:

My rolling out pie crust using a wine bottle. (The kitchen wasn’t totally complete.) The apples were from a feral tree in the yard, and the pie was out of this world.

Pão de Queijo – a Brazilian breakfast bread which I made with povilho azedo I brought from Brazil.


Pizza night!


Here are Beth and I the day we left.

Sunday, October 23, 2016

Sunrise at Marys Peak

I had a day and a half in Corvallis, based at my dad’s, house to turn in the rental and clean, pack, and store all my tour gear. On the morning of my afternoon departure, my friend Hendrik and I went up to Marys Peak at dawn to greet the sunrise and see (and hear) if there were any migrants navigating over the peak. In short, the only migrants we had were American Pipits, which were birds that could have been there for a few days.

What we did see was the most amazing show of Cascade Mountain peaks I’ve ever seen. From north to south:

Mt. Rainer and Mt. St. Helens

Mt. Hood

Mt. Jefferson

Mt. Washington

The Three Sisters

Looking towards the coast, we hoped to see the Yaquina Bay bridge, but the whole coast was under a blanket of low clouds. I noticed what appeared to be a dark gray cloud bulging above the low, white clouds, and studied this strange formation for a minute, noticing how oddly similar it was to the familiar shape of the Marys Peak skyline as seen from Corvallis. Suddenly it became clear – right after sunrise, with such clean, dry air, we were seeing the very shadow of Marys Peak on the entire 20+ miles of Coast Range between us and the Pacific Ocean.

On our way down we had this Sooty Grouse in the road, more cooperative than the one I had on the tour.
Sooty Grouse

I would have liked to stay another hour or two on Mary’s Peak to see what other migrants might pop in, but our friend Russ Namitz had reported a Bobolink late the afternoon before from the Philomath sewage ponds, which we could actually see from the peak. But in case it was still there, Hendrik and I wanted to be there earlier and rather not get the news that a bunch of local birders were there at dawn and had seen it fly off. Instead, we arrived about an hour after sunrise to see no birders, and within a few minutes we had great views of this tremendous rarity and even got some of the best photos ever of this species from western Oregon.
Bobolink, Benton County


We also saw this adorable, if despised family of introduced Myocastor coypus, Nutria, or Coypu.
Myocastor coypus, Nutria, or Coypu