Warm and Golden at Bosque del Apache

Luis Lopez chile fields

We stopped to peer at a flock of wild turkeys wandering through one of the farms along the Farm-to-Market Road between Socorro and San Antonio. Most of the 25 Central New Mexico Audubon Thursday Birders had drive straight to the Visitors Center at the Bosque del Apache; however, my car and one other decided to take the “scenic route” through Luis Lopez – and we were not disappointed.

Beyond the turkeys was a Loggerhead Shrike. A Greater Roadrunner pranced along a berm. Further along flocks of Western Bluebirds flew off from their perch on a power line as we approached. Beyond them three Sandhill Cranes foraged serenely. Pine Siskins gorged themselves on dry sunflower seed-heads, while a Red-tailed Hawk sat majestically on the top of a snag across the road. Say’s Phoebes and American Kestrels patrolled the fields.

We were stunned when we approached a field full of red jalapeno-sized peppers.

When we joined the others at the Visitors Center, they were focused on the trees just off the viewing porch. I later learned that several had seen a White-throated Sparrow foraging with the White-crowned Sparrows.

We headed into the refuge and started exploring the two-way road between the Marsh and Farm Loops. It was a beautiful fall day and warm enough that we didn’t need a jacket. Everywhere we looked were the shimmering gold leaves of the cottonwood trees. In fact, it was warm enough that a few mosquitoes had come out of hibernation and an occasional yellow jacket buzzed uncomfortably close.

We saw the first of many Northern Harriers coursing over the marsh. Two Great Egrets stood in frozen watch on the edges, while Mallards, American Wigeons, Gadwalls, American Coots and Buffleheads swam lazily.

“There are some gulls in the middle of the waterfowl,” someone said. After studying them, we determined they were Bonaparte’s Gulls – eight of them.

“There is a large raptor down at the end of the service road,” someone alerted us. All the scopes focused on it. A Golden Eagle – enjoying a mid-morning meal.

A Marsh Wren called from the underbrush.

We ate lunch on the Eagle Scout Deck while we watched the Snow Geese, waterfowl and Sandhill Cranes just below. A few of the cranes flew in closer offering us a better look.

Immature Bald Eagle

Our next stop was the Marsh Deck, where we gazed at an Immature Bald Eagle perched mid-pond on a bare snag.

“Probably a 2nd year,” Rebecca offered, referring to her identification guidelines for eagles at each step of maturity.

Northernn Pintails, Northern Shovelers, Green-winged Teal, and more Buffleheads and Gadwalls occupied the pond below the eagle.

“I hear a flicker,” Sondra stated.

We next stopped at a break in the foliage to check out some grebes – Westerns.

Further along, we walked out onto the Boardwalk. Red-winged Blackbirds were silhouetted against the dry cattails. Painted Turtles basked in the sun.

The group got a better view of the grebes.

Ross's Geese

Just beyond the bend, we stopped at one of the seasonal ponds crowded with light geese.

“Definitely, Ross’s Geese,” trip leader Sei told us. They definitely were smaller and lacked the black lips. A few gray juveniles and blue morphed adults were part of the flock.

Two Ring-billed Gulls swam nearby and three Cattle Egrets were in the tall grass just beyond.

This year’s tour route followed the alternative route that is more in open country. Just before the road rejoined the regular route, we stopped to search for pipits in some freshly plowed fields. The area was just beginning to fill with water and there were both Killdeer and American Pipits.

“Ring-necked Pheasant,” Lou signaled through the two-way radio a little further along.

There was not much activity along the Farm Loop. A couple of Sandhill Cranes tiptoed across the edge of an irrigation ditch. Northern Flickers flashed their red feather shafts as they flew between the trees.

The cranes at the north end of the farm loop foraged way out, while a flock of mule deer grazed nearby.

We gathered on the Flight Deck in mid-afternoon where hundreds of dabblers were feeding – all with their heads under water. We went over the list for the day and were delighted that 75 species had been seen.

Merlin – Bird of the Day in Embudo Canyon

Everyone was clustered around Rebecca’s scope. I had lagged behind taking a photo of a golden-leafed cottonwood nestled like a beacon in the hillside.

Fourteen Central New Mexico Audubon Thursday Birders were heading back on the Embudo Canyon trail. While clouds still shrouded the mountains and the day started out cold for an October morning, it was now clearing and beginning to warm.

Some of the Chamisa still had their riotously deep yellow blossoms and we could see where some type of animal had been eating the dried, red prickly pear fruit.

“What are you looking at?” I asked as I approached the group.

“Some type of falcon,” John replied. “It is either a kestrel or a Merlin.” He looked at it again with his binoculars.

Distant view of Merlin

I checked it out through my bins. It sat compactly on the top of a power pole some distance away.

Rebecca peered through her scope again. “It has a banded tail,” she said.

I took my turn looking through the scope.

“It’s not a kestrel,” I commented. “It has turned and I can see streaking or barring on its flanks.”

And then it flew off. We wandered further down the trail. A while later it returned over the canyon. We could clearly see its pointed wing-tips.

The birding had been slow. The most prevalent bird was House Finch. We saw several small flocks fly overhead, as well as occasional pairs busily gleaning apache plume seeds. We spotted White-crowned Sparrows here and there all along the trail. Dark-eyed Juncos called their dry ‘tic’ and Lesser Goldfinches buzzed as they foraged.

From time to time a Western Scrub Jay called as it sailed from juniper to juniper. A lone Raven flew across the canyon, and the red under-wings flashed as two Northern Flickers flew by.

Rebecca heard a Blue-gray Gnatcatcher and a couple of Townsend’s Solitaires. Not only does Rebecca have a keen ear for bird calls, several of us had our ears covered with fleece or wool caps. I did hear a couple of Curve-billed Thrashers calling.

When we returned to the parking lot, the Merlin was perched on top of one of the power poles. “He’s eating,” someone commented. “I can see feathers scattering.”

After the walk ended, a few of us headed north to see if we could spot a Cactus Wren.

“I can hear one,” Rebecca commented after we had walked a short distance. We inched closer to the sound.

Cactus Wren building roost nest

“There it is,” someone said. “It just popped up in that cholla over there.”

“It has what looks like nest-building material in its mouth,” I stated.

“Cactus Wrens build nests specifically for roosting that will protect them from bad weather,” Gale explained.

The recent cold weather may have prompted the wren to add more insulation to its nest.

Even though we enjoyed watching the diligent Cactus Wren, we decided that the Merlin was still the ‘Bird of the Day.’

Birding along the Los Angeles River

As a kid growing up in Southern California, the Los Angeles River was always considered a joke – a huge, barren, concrete arroyo with a trickle of water running down the middle. So I was surprised to learn in the past few years that it also has havens of avian habitat.

L.A. River - Encino

The river begins in the northwest part of the San Fernando Valley and flows relatively undisturbed through the Sepulveda Basin – a short distance behind my son’s home, where willows and other vegetation have grown up and provide an urban oasis. However, like many wild areas, it also is a magnet for fast food wrappers and plastic bags that get caught in the vegetation.

On my frequent visits to Encino, I always enjoy walking along the edge of the river that flows behind the sports fields in the Sepulveda Basin Recreation Area to check for seasonal birds.

As it flows through central Los Angeles, it reverts to the concrete arroyo. However, as it approaches Long Beach, the river accumulates silt, allowing vegetation to grow in places. And by time it reaches Willow Street, the river becomes soft-bottomed, forming an estuary. At this location, the freshwater of the LA River begins to interact with the saltwater of the Pacific Ocean and is affected by tidal action. It also is a migratory stop-over and wintering grounds for a multitude of shorebirds, waders and waterfowl.

When I checked the Los Angeles Rare Bird Alert prior to my most recent visit, I kept noticing sightings at the Willow Street crossing, which I discovered was near my friend Carole’s new home in Long Beach. After our visit with Carole, my friend Sue and I spent two hours enjoying this gem of a location.

We parked on a side street just south of where Willow Street crosses the river, and then walked up the paved access trail to the bike/walking trail that runs along the south levee. As we reached the top, we gasped at the plethora of birds enjoying the varied habitat in and along the river. The build-up of silt along the edge of one section supported a mini riparian habitat where both a Great Blue and Black-crowned Night Herons stood nested at spots along the water’s edge. A cluster of Mallards swam nearby.

The real spectacle was a group of American Avocets and Black-necked Stilts. Long-billed Dowitchers slept nearby with their bills tucked under their wings. Nearby a group of Red-necked Phalaropes stirred up crustaceans with their circular paddling.

Swarms of American Coots preferred the area where water streamed over the slightly-inclined spillway under Willow Street and joined the pooled water below. Killdeer scurried on a little sandbar.

On the far side of Willow, nestled under the bridge, were the tarps and belongings of homeless residents who share the habitat with the birds.

Photo by Sue Clasen

The east side of the spillway was dabbling duck territory – Northern Shovelers, Gadwall, American Wigeon, Blue-winged Teal, and scads of Cinnamon Teal. The water was deep enough to support the small diver, Ruddy Duck. There was another cluster of Avocets, Stilts and Dowitchers.

A little further on were the seven Greater-White-fronted Geese first sighted a couple of days earlier. Their pink bills, with its white band at the base where clearly visible. They lounged on a small ‘island’ in the river. As we watched, they gradually got up, stretched their wings and started foraging.

We walked a little further east and encountered a large flock of Western Gulls resting on the river, with a few Ring-billed Gulls mixed in. Nearby were four Canada Geese.

Black and Say’s Phoebes perched on the edge of a narrow concrete wall. “They weem to be having a hay day,” Sue commented.

Nearby was a group of shorebirds, Greater Yellowlegs, Pectoral Sandpipers and willets. A Snowy Egret flew in.

As the air warmed both Barn and Violet-green Swallows began swooping and diving over the river. A Red-tailed Hawk circled overhead.

It was is heartening to know that efforts are being made to manage the river in a way that supports wildlife, while continuing to channel run-off safely during the occasional storms that dump rain on the area. It was delightful to be able to witness the estuary wildlife that calls the L.A. River at Willow Street their home.

Fall Birding on Southern California Coast

The morning was cool and clear and a slight breeze wafted across White’s Point off of Palos Verde Peninsula. Before scanning the off-shore rocks, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath of the ocean air and absorbed the sound of the waves lapping against the rocky shore. It was the sound of my Santa Monica childhood and filled me with a sense of peace.

I opened my eyes and gazed through my bins at the large rocky mass protruding a short distance from shore. Brandt’s Cormorants clustered on the far right. On the left a group of Double-crested Cormorants sunned themselves and dried their wings. Western Gulls swooped and dove. A single Brown Pelican rested in the middle, while others patrolled from the air.

My friend Sue and I were enjoying fall birding along the Southern California coast between visits with two of our friends from college.

Our attention was diverted to the rocks immediately in front of us. A medium-sized shorebird pranced on the jagged boulders. We were hopeful it might be a Surfbird.

Wandering Tattler

“Nope,” Sue said. “Look at it bounce. It’s a Wandering Tattler.” We had seen them in Alaska, but from further away. It was fun to observe it at close range.

A group of smaller shorebirds flew close to shore in a perfectly synchronized pattern, and finally landed on piles of kelp flung by the waves against the retaining wall below the parking area. Within a few minutes they were swarming over the kelp. Most were Black Turnstones.

I started inching closer while Sue gazed at them through her scope. The tide was coming in. As each wave receded over the gravel, it created a roar that sounded like distant thunder.

“There also are Ruddy Turnstones,” I stated.

A Snowy Egret flew in and landed nearby.

We headed back the other way where we encountered about 30 feral cats that had crept out of their hiding places between the rocks for their morning meal, which a woman was offering out of the trunk of her car. While it was sad to think about all of these homeless cats, it also was disconcerting, knowing the risk that feral cats pose to birds.

Black-bellied Plover

Further on we watched two Black-bellied Plovers fly in and settle on the rocks. They were joined by some Willets and a Wimbrel.

As we returned to the car we encountered a gathering of gulls sitting on the sand at water’s edge – mostly Western Gulls, with a few Heerman’s mixed in. In a blur of black and red, a flock of about 15 Black Oystercatchers joined them.

Our next stop was Cabrillo Beach in San Pedro. We drove out towards the fishing pier. Both Forster’s and Elegant Terns sailed over the water, occasionally diving to retrieve a small fish. Brant’s and Double-crested Cormorants stood sentinel on their respective pilings, while Brown Pelicans cruised overhead.

Snowy Plover - phto by Sue Clasen

A flock of gulls foraged along the edge of the inner harbor. Four Snowy Plovers were dwarfed as they buzzed between them. “They look like they’re motorized toys,” Sue laughed.

After a lunch of seafood at Sunset Beach, we spent two hours at Bolsa Chica Ecological Reserve in Huntington Beach.

Seventeen Killdeer were active in a marshy area near the parking lot. We then walked along the road to get to the trail that followed through a grassy habitat on the ‘mesa’ along the east side of the preserve. Everything was parched and brown. Occasionally a few Beldings Savannah Sparrows or Say’s Phoebe would pause on the boundary fence. A Red-tailed Hawk was perched on a eucalyptus branch a short distance beyond the fence.

Marbled Godwit - photo by Sue Clasen

We walked to a lookout over the inter-tidal marsh and inlet. Unfortunately, we were looking into the sun and hadn’t brought the scope, so we only were able to clearly identify the larger shorebirds, including Marbled Godwit, Long-billed Curlew, Long-billed Dowitcher, and Willets.

Further on we watched two Merlins fly out from their perch on a snag, and then return a short time later.

When we reached the trail that led across the tidal gate, we could see the extensive expansion of the reserve. We watched Great Blue Herons, Great and Snowy Egrets along the shore of a nearby cove.

Western Sandpiper - Photo by Sue Clasen

Unfortunately, we didn’t have time to explore the newly expanded areas, so headed across the paved walk-way where Forester’s Terns hovered over the tide gate, and then headed north along the edge of the Pacific Coast Highway. It provided us a good vantage point to observe shorebirds foraging along the edge, including Greater Yellowlegs, Western and Least Sandpipers, and Semi-Palmated Plovers.

It had been a wonderful day enjoying the California coast!

Migrating Birds at Las Vegas NWR

“Looks like all of the perches are taken,” Lee commented as we passed power pole after power pole with a raven or raptor perched on top. Five cars of Central New Mexico Audubon Thursday Birders were on our way to the La Vegas National Wildlife Refuge.

While low clouds hung over the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, ‘god beams’ shone through the horizon, giving us hope that we would not be rained out.

Flocks of sparrows leaped out of the grasses along NM 281 as we headed towards the refuge and skipped among the grasses. Almost immediately, it became clear that they were mixed flocks – sparrows traveling south together without regards to the species of their traveling partners. Chipping Sparrow was the most prevalent and many were juveniles or adults that already had molted into their blander winter plumage making identification more challenging.

“There’s a Lincoln’s Sparrow,” I said as one popped up momentarily on the top of a stalk, its finely streaked upper breast distinguishing it from the other sparrows with more heavily streaked chests.

There were bland Brewer’s Sparrows with a plainer face pattern, Clay-colored Sparrows with bright orange legs and bills, Vesper Sparrows that flashed their white outer tail feathers as they flew, and heavily streaked Savannah Sparrows. Lou saw the only Lark Sparrow.

Pine Siskin

Stands of waning sunflowers were interspersed between the fading-green weeds along the road and were alive with Lesser Goldfinches and Pine Siskins gobbling the remaining seeds. An Orange-crowned Warbler flitted in several shrubs.

“I keep hearing Horned Larks twittering as they fly,” Rebecca announced through the two-way radio. We were doing most of our observing using our cars as blinds as we crept down the road in a caravan.

Meadowlarks were perched on fence posts all along the road, and flocks of Mourning Doves clustered in small groups. A Swainson’s Hawk circled overhead.

“Ladderback Woodpecker,” Lou alerted us. Pretty soon it flew in and started pecking at a fence post just opposite our car – and then it scurried off across the field.

As we rounded a bend, the habitat changed from open pasture and grassland to the riparian habitat surrounding several farm houses.

“Magpies,” trip leader Mary Lou exclaimed through her radio. Four different Black-billed Magpies seemed to be playing between the grass in front of the houses and a row of trees.

We stopped to check out the movement in a row of cottonwood trees alongside the road. It was in constant movement, a sure sign of a warbler, but before we could clearly ID it, it had moved into the tree behind us. In the next car, Shelly got a good look and informed us that it was a Yellow-rumped Warbler.

After about 4 miles, we entered the boundary of the refuge. We stopped to check out the waterfowl in Wigeon Pond. There was a small group of Mallards, a few American Coots, a Cinnamon Teal, and Gadwall.

“I saw a Redhead,” Sylvia told us, “but it swam back behind the reeds.”

“I think I see a Zone-tailed Hawk,” Mary Lou exclaimed as she scrambled out of her car and grabbed her scope. She knew I would be excited since it was one of my nemesis birds. Sadly, the white-barring she thought she saw on the end of the tail, was only a reflection from the sun on a soaring Turkey Vulture.

We stopped to check out the sightings board at the Visitor’s Center. “Be sure and look in the fields beyond Crane Lake,” the ranger told us. “Our first Sandhill Cranes have arrived.”

As we piled back into our cars, a swirling flock of mixed blackbirds landed just beyond the building.

As we set up the scopes on the Crane Lake observation deck and munched on our lunches, the sun began to break through. The contented clucking of 14 cranes drifted up to provide background music. A mixed flock of swallows swooped in and out over the lake – Tree, Violet-green and Barn.

A small group of Long-billed Dowitchers probed the mud along one side of the lake. Further along several clusters of Canada Geese rested in the emerging sun. A raft of Ruddy Ducks huddled on the far shore. Several Western Grebes idled in the middle between their dives. A lone Eared Grebe floated and dove in the middle. Several Ring-billed Gulls alternately took surveillance flights and swam lazily. Nine White-faced Ibis huddled on the far shore. Other waterfowl included Northern Shoveler and American Wigeon.

“I counted 60 cormorants,” Rebecca exclaimed.

Brewer’s Blackbirds foraged in the pasture next to the observation deck, while European Starlings squeaked and squawked in the trees adjacent to the parking lot. Mixed flocks of blackbirds whirled up, circled the lake and re-landed. Splashes of color from red wing patches and yellow heads caught the sunlight as they angled past us.

A Cattle Egret flew in and landed at the next to a grazing cow.

Our last stop was at the McAllister Wildlife Management Area just beyond the refuge. As we walked down towards the lake we stopped in amazement at the numbers of Canada Geese (approximately 250) and Ruddy Ducks (roughly 75). In addition, there were Ring-necked Ducks and Redheads, plus many too far away and in eclipse plumage to identify clearly.

“I see avocets,” Sylvia exclaimed as she peered through a scope. “In fact, there are five of them.”

We puzzled over what we initially thought was a tern, but later decided was a Franklin’s Gull that was sitting on the rocks next to the avocets.

The final delight of the day was a Red-naped Sapsucker working in one of the cottonwoods.

When we tallied up the species, we were delighted to discover we had seen 69 species.

Light Morph Juvenile Swainson's Hawk

While some of the group back-tracked past the Visitor’s Center to share our sightings in the refuge with the ranger, our car and one other headed along the back side of the refuge. We stopped to ponder the ID of a raptor.

As we traveled further down the road, a flock of mostly Yellow-headed Blackbirds landed on the fence next to the road, popped briefly down to the road and then swirled up and landed in the bare branches of a large tree.

And then it was time to make the two-and-a-half hour drive back to Albuquerque.

Birding Embudito Canyon Between the Rain Showers

It was raining when I left the house, just a couple of miles from the trailhead. I didn’t think anyone would show up, but since I was the trip leader, I figured I had better at least make an appearance.

Larry was in his car when I arrived at the parking lot. As I donned my rain jacket and went over to his car, a Northern Flicker sped by, followed by a small flock of Mourning Doves.

Within minutes Joanne arrived, and then Steve. By 8:00 it had stopped raining and there were five intrepid birders who were game for seeing how many birds we could see before it started raining again.

As we headed down the trail, Rebecca scurried up behind us. “I turned back twice, but then there would be a slight lull, so I decided to continue,” she said.

Black-throated Sparrow

A Western Scrub Jay called from across the canyon, and then we began to hear the tinkling call of Black-throated Sparrows.

Two House Finches flew in and landed on a scrub oak.

Curve-billed Thrasher - taken on a sunny day

A Curve-billed Thrasher called from the other side of the trail – and then was answered by two more. We could see movement from the first one in the middle of a cholla, and pretty soon it hopped its way to the top of the cactus, then popped up and perched on the top, surveying the landscape. As if on cue, we saw movement where we had heard the answering call and two Curve-billed Thrashers made their way to the top of another cholla. The first one flew off, but the other two stayed long enough for everyone to get good looks.

“A year bird for me,” exclaimed Marge.

I hoped we would also get a Crissal Thrasher since I had seen three of them the prior day when I was scouting.

“There is a bird with wing bars in the scrub oak,” Marge said.

“It looks like the movement pattern of a Ruby-crowned Kinglet,” Rebecca replied.

We heard a quail calling, and then spotted a Gambel’s Quail hiding in the bottom of a large bush. A few minutes later another one scurried along the ground not too far from us.

An accipiter flew low across the trail. “Looks like a Sharp-shinned Hawk,” Steve commented.

“It seemed to have more rapid wing beats than a Cooper’s Hawk,” I added.

As we moved forward, we encountered a portion of trail that was alive with sparrows. We were able to ID several Brewer’s Sparrows, a possible immature White-crowned Sparrow and a couple of Rufous-crowned Sparrows.

“A Yellow-rumped Warbler just flew up into some bushes,” Rebecca said.

“I wonder if it was the warbler we heard earlier tcheking in the apache plume,” I stated.

Canyon Towhee - photo taken on the scouting trip

It started to sprinkle and we could see the cloud bank moving up from the valley. We started back, but not before spotting a Canyon Towhee. When we had almost reached the parking lot, another accipiter flew low across the trail in front of us. It was so close I could hear the wind from its wings. It landed on a fence post. “That really looks like a Cooper’s Hawk,” Steve stated.

And then we scurried up to the parking lot and into our cars, glad that we had managed to have a little over an hour of birding – and 16 species.

Late Summer at Corrales Bosque

“There is a Black Phoebe sitting on the top of a twig at the edge of the river,” Dave said as he peered through his scope. “And there is a Snowy Egret on the sand bar a little further down river.”

Seventeen Central New Mexico Audubon Thursday Birders were standing single file on the narrow trail that leads north from the parking lot at the northernmost end of the Corrales Bosque. It provided a wonderful view of the river and an opportunity to look down on the canopy of trees growing adjacent to the Rio Grande.

One-by-one, we inched past each other to look through Dave’s scope, being careful to avoid the areas where the hillside had eroded almost to the trail.

“I have a male Blue Grosbeak,” Robert said from the head of the line. “It is still in breeding plumage.” I had heard one chipping in the canopy, but hadn’t spotted it. As we were watching, a female flew in and landed close by.

The Snowy Egret flew in closer, landed just below us, and then strutted off along the shore.

The day was cool and a stiff breeze buffeted a lone Barn Swallow as it flew by us. As we turned to head down and into the woods, we hoped the wind would be less intense.

As we entered the bosque, we stopped to watch a Western Wood Peewee as it flew out to snag an insect and then landed facing us. It gave us a good opportunity to view its ‘vest.’

A variety of hummingbirds, mostly Black-chinned, but with an occasional Rufous and Broad-tailed, zipped in and out of the cottonwoods. There were a plethora of Wilson’s Warblers feeding hungrily to be ready for the next leg of their flight south.

We came to a thicket of Russian olive trees which was a hub of activity. Black-capped Chickadees called their names as they moved from branch to branch. A White-breasted Nuthatch joined them. A Spotted Towhee scratched in the leaves under the bushes.

“There’s a MacGillivray’s Warbler,” someone pointed. Fortunately, I was close enough to the front of the line to get a look at it.

While some of us were watching the warbler, Rebecca, bringing up the rear, heard a flock of Pinyon Jays chattering as they flew down river.

We made our way up the bank and onto the levee, which allowed us to look out over the horse farms. We were startled to see three water buffalo lounging in a corral of one of the farms.

More Blue Grosbeaks and Lark Sparrows flitted in the stalks of corn. Occasionally one would land, the blue feathers contrasting with the golden-brown stalks of corn.

Someone spotted a raptor perched on some bare branches of a cottonwood that hung over the levee. Robert and Dave put their scopes on it. Was it a Cooper’s or a Sharp-shinned Hawk. We concluded that it was a Cooper’s Hawk due to its dark mantle and flat head.

A Green Heron lifted off from the bank of the drainage ditch, flew up channel and then settled down out of site in the bank-side willows. The grasses along the ditch were alive with sparrows, mostly chippies.

We stopped to watch some birds as they landed in the top of a century plant – molting Lazuli Buntings! “I think they should be our ‘bird of the day,’” Rebecca commented.

Trip leader, Gale, went over the sightings list back at the parking lot. We had 38 species for the morning. And then it was time to head over to Village Pizza.

Migrating Warblers in the Sandia Mountains

“I hear a Plumbeous Vireo,” someone exclaimed as 24 Central New Mexico Audubon Thursday Birders piled out of our cars. “There it is.”

The vireo was busy gleaning insects as moved quickly and stealthily in the Gambel oak, sometimes obscured behind a leaf. It continued calling as it moved.

“Its call sounds like a question,” Gale observed.

The mountain air was cool and the sky was the deep cobalt blue of late summer. It was a great morning to be birding.

White-breasted Nuthatches were calling from the picnic area.

Soon we were watching the movements of another small bird. We caught a glimpse of a buttery yellow throat, and then finally saw yellow under the tail – a Virginia’s Warbler! It was the first of several we would see, and it finally popped up in plain view.

“Nice eye-ring,” trip leader Sally commented.

The group began dispersing into smaller clusters. One group was watching the bird activity in the wet area adjacent to the parking lot, where they spotted a Hermit Thrush and several chippies.

Another group headed up the road, while a third continued to hover around the oaks near the car.

Broad-tailed Hummingbirds seemed to be everywhere.

Steller’s Jays chattered as they flew from tree to tree.

Four Turkey Vultures circled overhead and then were chased by a group of Common Ravens. I guess they thought they had spotted the road-kill first!

Western Wood Peewee

Western Wood Peewee had set up a feeding territory further up the road. It was constantly turning its head from side to side, and then would dart off in pursuit of an insect.

“Williamson’s Sapsucker,” someone said as they pointed to a ponderosa trunk. I just caught a quick look at it before it flew across the road and disappeared into the trees.

I walked further up the road to see if I could see where it went. As several of us gathered near a group of trees, a Hairy Woodpecker came into view. Its bill was noticeably longer than the width of its head. It quickly worked its way up near the top of the tree, and then dropped back down and started over again.

“I can always tell whether it is a Hairy or a Downy because I think that the Downy has a cute beak,” Jo told us.

As if on cue, a Downy Woodpecker flew in. It was followed by an eager juvenile that trailed it up the tree.

A flock of Mountain Chickadees chattered nearby, but weren’t visible.

“Oh, look,” someone said, “a Townsend’s.”

There were two Townsend’s Warblers, a bright male and either a female or a juvenile.

After watching them working the nearby fir trees, our attention was diverted by a flycatcher.

Robert got it in his scope. “It’s a Hammond’s,” he said. “We had another one up the road.”

“It definitely has a short tail,” someone observed.

“And, its eye-ring is not as distinct as a Cordilleran,” someone else stated.

“I hear a flock of Pygmy Nuthatches,” Lannois said, but they didn’t show themselves.

When we shared the birds that we had seen thus far, the group that had stayed back near the cars had seen a fly-over flock of Pinyon Jays and three more warblers: Yellow, Wilson’s and Grace’s.

We drove down the road a ways to Cienega Canyon Picnic Area where the habitat is more open. The leaves of the deciduous trees were a faded yellow green – a sure sign that summer is winding down.

Since it was late morning, the bird activity was not as intense as we had the past two hours.

As we started up the Cienega Canyon Trail, two Hairy Woodpeckers flew in.

While some of the group continued up the trail, I turned back with some of the others, thinking that there would be more birds in the trees around the meadow.

As we headed towards the meadow, we stopped to look at a bird crouched on the top of a dead ponderosa. Unfortunately, we did not have a scope. Two of us thought it was a Band-tailed Pigeon because of its size and shape.

“I don’t see any yellow on its bill,” Gale said. “However, it definitely looks more portly than a Mourning Dove, and I don’t see any white on its wings.”

And then it flew off. We’ll never know for sure its identity.

A short ways down the road, two Mourning Doves were perched on another tree top. Did the bird we saw previously join another one? They clearly were slimmer and had pointed tails.

As we approached the reservation area, we heard another group of Pygmy Nuthatches.

“I have been listening to them and keep hoping one will show itself,” Lannois said.

“I really need it for my year list,” Marge said.

Meanwhile, there was bird activity in the bushes growing along the small stream. A House Wren popped into view. An Orange-crowned Warbler made a brief appearance – and then a Yellow-rumped Warbler.

Wilson’s Warblers seemed to be everywhere and appeared to be dancing in the edges of the meadow as they moved along.

As we headed back to the parking lot, we stopped to look at two Turkey Vultures circling overhead.

“Look at them carefully,” Rebecca said. “A Zone-tailed Hawk was spotted in this location once as it circled with the vultures.”

No Zone-tailed Hawk; however an accipiter came into view. While we wished it were a Northern Goshawk, it clearly was a Cooper’s Hawk.

The Sandia Mountains always is always productive at the end of August – and we had been lucky to have seen seven species of migrating western warblers.

Blue-footed Booby visits New Mexico

It tipped its 62 inch wing-span as it made a loop over the water at the foot of the dam, and then plunged straight down into the water like a torpedo. I was watching a first or second year Blue-footed Booby hunt for its breakfast – an exciting treat at any time, but more special since this was the first time that the species had been seen in New Mexico. They easily can be seen off the west coast of Mexico or by a pelagic trip out of San Diego – but never at Conchas Lake State Park!

I was alerted to its presence from a posting by Cole Wolf on the AZ/NM Rare Bird Alert. According to his report, “We arrived at 0615 (Aug. 16) and scoped from the dam for over an hour but were unable to locate the bird. We went north to check along the Canadian River and finally John (Parmeter) spotted the bird flying downriver near the marina at about 0800. It stayed in sight for about half an hour…”

“Do you want to go see the Booby tomorrow?” Mary Lou e-mailed me. It was tempting, but I had a prior commitment. I hoped that it would stick around for a few days. However, you never know with a stray.

Mary Lou dragged her husband along and saw it at 8 a.m. on Tues. It continued and was seen on Wed. I set my alarm for 4:30 and was out of the house by 5:00 on Thursday morning. For quite a while, it was just me and the truckers heading east on I-40. Normal people were still in bed.

I exited off the freeway just before Tucumcari and headed north. The periodic red mesas beckoned and the occasional windmill signaled the presence of an isolated homestead. It was a part of New Mexico I had never visited before. Shortly before the small town of Conchas, a Scissor-tailed Flycatcher settled onto a power line. Ordinarily, I would have backed up to take a closer look, but I had seen plenty of them before and was on a mission to see a life bird.

When I entered the State Park just before 8 a.m., I used Cole’s information, plus the directions in the New Mexico Bird Finding Guide, to zero in on what I thought was the correct location. Heading north, the road passes behind the bottom of the dam. There was no sign of the booby flying over the river. At the park headquarters, I looped back and headed down towards the lake on a rutted dirt road just before the dam and parked near the edge of the lake.

Two Killdeer greeted me before continuing their foraging. There was no sign of the booby. I got out my scope to be ready. A flock of about 15 White-faced Ibis cruised over the lake and an unidentified tern zipped briefly into view and then disappeared.

I noticed a vehicle stopped on the top of the dam – a birder for sure, I thought, and headed back up to the road, just as the car pulled off the north end of the dam. I paused briefly on the way back to admire a small flock of Lark Buntings, the male still in breeding plumage. When I emerged from a much-needed pit stop, the car was heading towards me and then stopped.

“Are you a birder?” he asked.

“Yes, I am looking for the booby.” I responded.

“Follow me,” he beckoned, and we drove up to and half-way across the dam where we stopped and got out – despite the signs that admonish drivers not to stop on the narrow one-way road across the top of the dam.

“There it is,” he pointed. Sure enough, the large bird with its distinctive bill was circling right below us. I could see it with my naked eyes and then began to watch it through my binoculars.

“I spent the night sleeping in my car at the south boat ramp,” Jim Black told me. “I’ve been watching it since 6:15. I came out on Mon. and spent 2 hours, but didn’t see it. When I read that it was still here, I decided to try again and be here at first light.”

About that time I decided that I would go back and get my camera. But then the booby disappeared, so I didn’t get any photos. You will have to enjoy the photos Cole posted on his Flickr site.

By then it was 9:15. Still time to drive back by way of Las Vegas and join the Thursday Birders at Villanueva. They had a poor day at Villanueva State Park and were just getting ready to head back when I arrived. I was glad I had made the choice to go to Conchas.

Late Summer Birding – Isleta and Los Lunas

“Just as I arrived, an adult and juvenile Black-necked Stilt flew into the northern pond.,” trip leader Donna told the 19 Central New Mexico Audubon Thursday Birders as we assembled shortly after 7 a.m. along side the road next to the Isleta Marsh.

Behind us cars zipped by on their way between Los Lunas and Isleta Pueblo; however, in front of us the birds seemed unperturbed. The day was overcast and cool, creating an aura of calm.

A few Blue-winged Teal, American Coots and Mallards swam lazily in the pond where the stilts foraged. A Black Phoebe made quick forays from a bush next to the pond. In the adjacent meadow a Western Kingbird was busy snagging early morning insects from its perch atop a fence post. A Western Wood Peewee preferred a more secluded perch on fence wire nestled alongside a row of shrubs.

We moved to the larger, southern pond a ways down the road and located a couple of spots where the cattails hadn’t grown tall enough to block the view.

“Marsh Wren calling,” Rebecca said.

“All I am ever able to do is hear them,” someone replied. “I don’t think I have ever actually seen one.”

And then, from my vantage point, one popped up for a short time with its tail cocked straight up, as if to check us out, before dropping down out of view to resume flitting furtively. Normally, it is only seen in Central New Mexico during the winter.

“I saw an Eared Grebe here when I was scouting earlier in the week,” Donna shared. Before long, one swam along next to the cattails. Still in breeding plumage, its red eye gleamed in front of its buffy-gold ‘ears.’

“Notice how it never dives,” someone noted, as it would swim slowly out to the middle of the water, and then return to the side.

About ten Ruddy Ducks in eclipse plumage hovered in the center of the pond. A Pied-billed Grebe was with them.

Someone noticed a raptor perched on a fence post on the ridge line. We looked carefully at it through a scope and determined it was a Red-tailed hawk.

It was time to move on to our next stop.

As we got out of our cars in the parking area of the Los Lunas River Park, we started scanning the sky. Every year one or two pair of Mississippi Kites nest here.

“I saw one earlier in the week,” Donna assured us, “but it was later in the morning. Perhaps there are not enough thermals at 8:45 on a cloudy day.”

We did see a Great Egret flying overhead.

We took the packed gravel trail to the edge of the Rio Grande, which was fairly quiet. A male Blue Grosbeak was singing from a high branch of a tree along the side trail to the north.

We headed south along the other trail, and stopped to identify a dead tree that had about six different species perched in it. Sitting on different bare branches, they were silhouetted against the gray sky. Through the scope, we identified a Northern Flicker, a Black-headed Grosbeak, and juvenile Robin before they scattered.

The tree appeared to be a favorite surveillance spot. Over the time we watched, other species flew in – Mourning Doves, Western Kingbird, more grosbeaks.

While some of us headed back, a part of the group wandered over to the river again, where they spotted a Snowy Egret, a Killdeer, and a Common Nighthawk. Vanessa identified an Orange-crowned Warbler in the Russian Olives along the bank.

At the edge of the parking lot, the rest of us watched a juvenile Summer Tanager begging to be fed, and then both parents flying in to feed it. The parents took off further into the cottonwoods, their youngun’ trailing behind them. .

“I think we should walk up on the levee,” Donna advised. “It was where I saw the kite.”

As we scouted the area, a Bewick’s Wren called from the bushes along the irrigation ditch.

“The kite just flew into the cottonwood next to the house,” Donna exclaimed. By time we turned to put our bins on it, we saw it shoot out, being chased by two excited Western Kingbirds. Sorry, kite, no kingbird babies for breakfast.

As we went over the check list, we were delighted to have seen a combined total of 41 species for the morning.

Over sweet rolls or huevos rancheros at Henriettas, we sang happy birthday to Sei who was celebrating his 79th birthday.