Banquet of Birds at Capulin Springs

The air was cool and there was a slight breeze when 20 Thursday Birders set up their lawn chairs or positioned themselves on a rock to observe the birds coming into “the log” at Capulin Springs. The box elders and maples, growing back from the roots after the area had to be cleared two years ago, were green and bushy. Foot-high grass was growing around the area where water drips out of the end of the log and trickles down the incline. It was like sitting down to a sumptuous banquet of nature.

Gray-headed Junco

The first bird that flew in was a Gray-headed Junco. We would see a number of them during the almost two hours that stayed watching The Log.

Audubon's Yellow-rumped Warbler

The most prevalent bird was Audubon’s Yellow-rumped Warblers. They came both in male-female pairs and in family groups. The males were still in their striking black and white plumage, which set off their yellow throats and rumps.

The sound of wing-beats alerted us to a pair of Band-tailed Pigeons. They perched high in some conifers. Another pair flew in, and then they all took off. The pairs visited the area several times. This is one of the few places where you can be guaranteed to see this neotropical pigeon.

Broad-tailed Hummingbirds periodically buzzed in, mostly females.

We could hear a Virginia’s Warbler calling, and finally got a glimpse of one.

A Green-tailed Towhee zipped into the bushes behind the log. It was easily identifiable with its rusty crown. In the shade, its back appeared olive-green; however, its tail looked almost chartreuse. As it perched, its long tailed looked perky when it popped up, as if to provide balance.

A Stellar’s Jay called from the woods, but never came into the area where we were sitting.

We could hear a Red-breasted Nuthatch calling, and then noticed movement as it flew into a tree opposite the water. It called again, sounding as if it were at some distance. And, then it flew down to get a drink. After having a drink, it flew back to its perch for a while, and then flew in again – this time for a bath.

A hauntingly beautiful song of a Hermit Thrush resonated from nearby and the call of a White-breasted Nuthatch emanated from the trees. Several of us heard the melodic sing-song voice of a Warbling Vireo

A series of Mountain Chickadees became arriving to drink and bathe.

A Northern Flicker landed on the side of a tree just beyond the log, and then took off. After a while, it flew back, with another one right behind it. One of them then flew into the end of the log, paused momentarily, hopped into the log for a drink, and then they both flew off.

“I hear a Pygmy Nuthatch,” Rebecca said. But it never came into view.

It was interesting to watch the way the birds approached the log. Most would fly into a tree a short distance away and then wait there to survey the situation. They would then fly into one of the bushes behind the log, where they moved around quite a bit. Only then would they fly to the edge of the log, peer quickly inside, and then pop down out of view. It made taking photos almost impossible.

“Oh look, a MacGillivray’s Warbler,” Cindy said. It stayed around and in the log for quite a while. Even though its darkish feathers seemed to blend into the shade, its broken white eye-ring stood out.

About the same time, a Ruby-crowned Kinglet paid a visit.

“I keep hearing a Golden-crowned Kinglet,” Rebecca mentioned. Awhile later, she pointed to the high branches of a conifer a short distance behind the log. “I can see it flitting around. It is flicking its wings open and shut as it forages,”

We heard the buzzy call of Pine Siskins. Pretty soon four of them began making their way to the log.

“Hear that clear ringing song?” Rebecca asked. “I think it is an Evening Grosbeak.” Boyd and Beverly, who had set up watch about 30 minutes before the rest of us, had seen one at the log before we arrived. We kept hoping that if we would be patient, we would be rewarded.

When it was almost time to leave, we saw what we thought was a female land in the tree almost above our head. It sat there, almost quivering. “It’s pooping,” someone said.

And then the male flew in. At first I couldn’t see it, so got up and moved to a better position. The golden feathers of the male were like a small light in the trees. Pretty soon he flew over to the other bird and started to feed it.

“This is really exciting,” Rebecca said. “They must be nesting nearby.”

The Log

The log was almost in full sun now and the birds were avoiding the exposure. It had been a wonderful two hours of birding – from the comfort of our lawn chairs. Counting the species that had been seen at the Sandia Ranger Station where we convened, we had seen 32 species for the morning, including our banquet dessert – Evening Grosbeaks.

Glorious Summer Birding at Bosque del Apache

“Donna saw a Phainopepla buzz a Kestrel,” trip leader, Rebecca told us as three cars of Thursday Birders pulled up behind her just south of San Antonio, NM. “However, the Phainopepla just flew off.”

And then it was back and we saw it silhouetted in the top of a nearby tree before we headed south towards the Bosque del Apache.

In the stretch before we reached the refuge, we saw Western Meadowlarks, Northern Mockingbirds, a pair of Blue Grosbeaks, Red-winged Blackbirds, and Western Kingbirds.

Mule Deer buck

We pulled off to watch eight mule deer feasting on the green foliage in the area that is flooded during the winter for waterfowl. “He’s in the velvet,” Pat described the buck, whose antlers were covered in soft fuzz.

While we were watching, a Gambel’s Quail bobbed across the adjacent dirt road.

As we pulled into the Visitor Center parking lot, another pair of Blue Grosbeaks was scavenging on the gravel. “I don’t think I have ever seen this many Blue Grosbeaks here before,” Sei stated.

Black-chinned Hummingbirds buzzed around the feeders hanging on the west side of the Visitor’s Center and a Bullock’s Oriole called from the large tree just outside the entrance.

“Let’s not tarry here,” Rebecca said. “It’s going to get hot and we want to go around the marsh loop before lunch.” At that time, there were high clouds blocking the sun and a slight breeze; however, we agreed that we should head out.

“We’ll go to the left after we enter the refuge area,” she continued, “and past the flight deck area to the place where the Moorhen and two babies have been seen.”

It was strange to gaze out over the area leading up to and out from the flight deck and see only native marsh plants growing. The refuge staff rotates which areas remain filled during the summer for waterfowl, and which ones are drained to promote moist soil management. Only a few puddles remained.

We could hear Yellow-breasted Chats calling from the willows on the other wide of the irrigation ditch. Say’s Phoebes caught bugs from their low perches. Western Meadowlarks sang. Barn Swallows swooped and dove as they snatched insects. A Lark Sparrow sat on a bare snag. A Northern Harrier, either a female or a juvenile, coursed low over the most management area.

We pulled up by a marshy area at the end of the two-way road and got out to search the reeds for the Moorhen – with no luck. We were disappointed since this is the first time in a number of years that a Moorhen has nested at the refuge.

As we headed along the seven-mile marsh loop, we saw the slow gentle wing-beats of a Great-blue heron glide over the road.

We drove with our windows open, listening to the hoarse call of several Yellow-breasted Chats. “I see one in the top of a tree,” Donna called over the two-way radio, and we all pulled over to the side and scanned the trees with our binoculars. I could see its golden breast gleaming from some top branches, and then it flew before everyone got a good look.

White Pelicans

We stopped at the first ‘window’ in the reeds across from the Boardwalk pond. A group of White Pelicans lounged at the north end of the pond with a couple of Neotropical Corporants. I began to count them…16, 17, 18, 19!

Rebecca set up her scope. “Look, she said,” they have lost the breeding bump on the end of their bills, and they have a black patch on the top of their heads.”

We saw four more of them from the boardwalk.

Sylvia’s car caught up with us. “We saw a cougar cross the road in front of us,” they told us breathlessly.

Ash-throated Flycatcher

An Ash-throated Flycatcher caught our attention on the top of the willows adjacent to the boardwalk. A Black Phoebe had set up watch down in the irrigation ditch.

The pond on either side of the boardwalk seemed calm. More Neotropical Cormorants perched alongside sunning turtles on several exposed snags. A couple of Western Grebes cruised along. A few Canada Geese lounged at the far side of the pond and the blue beaks of a couple of Ruddy Ducks stood out, even at a distance.

As we started to walk back to our cars, we stopped to see if we could spot the Common Yellow-throat. Its wichity, wichity, wichity song sounded so close. And, then it popped up into view momentarily.

Great Egrets flying

Just past the boardwalk, we stopped at another moist management area to watch a flock of Great Blue Herons and Great Egrets.

Heading back on the other side of the marsh loop, a smattering of waterfowl swam lazily in the water, including several groups of Mallards, eight Mallard ducklings, a Pied-billed Grebe, and a few Blue-winged Teal. Rebecca heard a Virginia Rail calling.

Summer Tanager

A pair of Summer Tanagers was fly-catching from the tops of some cottonwoods, and just beyond a juvenile Vermillion Flycatcher caught our attention.

About 50 Cliff Swallows swarmed around the bridge over the irrigation channel near the rest room spot. Marge saw a Northern Flicker.

A Blue Grosbeak was the most interesting bird in the rookery.

In a pond just beyond the rookery were three Redheads, more Blue-winged Teal, six Ruddy Ducks and four Cinnamon Teal.

We made one more loop back to the marshy area beyond the flight deck in case the Moorhen was out. While we didn’t see it, we were rewarded with a Hepatic Tanager perched nearby.

When we arrived back at the Visitor’s Center, those who arrived first had just seen a Verdin in a tree branch hanging over Laurel’s car.

By time we finished eating lunch, the weather had turned hot. It was time to head back to Albuquerque, delighted that we had seen 71 species during our visit to the refuge.

Riding the Rail Runner for Birding in Santa Fe

Thursday Birders on Rail Runner

“Oh, look, Western Kingbirds,” exclaimed Wendy and Gail, visiting birders from the San Francisco Bay area. The Rail Runner was stopped at the Bernalillo station.

Seventeen Thursday Birders boarded the train at various stops from Los Lunas to Bernalillo to join the group that was headed for Santa Fe – a trip designed to minimize our carbon footprint.

As we rolled along, we saw Barn Swallows, Cattle Egrets, and Mourning Doves. Phil spotted a Turkey Vulture and Beth saw a Red-tailed Hawk soaring.

When we alighted from the train, we made our way to the shuttles that circle the main part of Santa Fe, and found seats on two different shuttles. We got off at the first stop, across from the Round House, where staff from the Randall Davey Audubon Center was waiting for us. It took two trips to get us all up there. Sandra, who lives in Santa Fe, joined us there.

It was a much easier trip than the ‘dry run’ that I had made the prior week, when I didn’t realize that the Santa Fe Trails bus traveled to the top of Lower Canyon Rd., so walked almost 5 miles to reach the center. It had not seemed that far when I traveled there by car.

When we had all assembled, Linda Newberry, Randall Davey Center Manager greeted us and told us about recent bird sightings. She recommended that we start by walking through their gardens, which are dotted with both seed and hummingbird feeders, and then exploring the trail in the Santa Fe Preserve, owned by the Nature Conservancy.

“We are very excited,” Linda told us, “that Beavers have returned to the canyon in the preserve and have constructed dams and lodges.”

“I am going to have to leave you in about an hour,” I told the group. I was the trip leader for the day. “I have to catch an early train to return to Albuquerque to attend a funeral of a dear friend. You are all great birders and can help each other to finish the day.”

As we walked through the Secret Garden behind the staff offices, Broad-tailed Hummingbirds buzzed us as we walked. I saw what might have been an early Rufous Hummingbird as it flashed its rusty side when a Broad-tailed took chase. Spotted Towhees called from the bushes on the hillside above the garden.

Indian Paintbrush

Once we entered the preserve, the green foliage was broken occasionally by clumps of Indian paintbrush. We began to be treated to a number of juveniles: American Robins, Spotted Towhees, and Black-headed Grosbeaks.

“That Black-headed Grosbeak looks rather scruffy,” someone said behind me. “It has white blotches on its side.”

It flew into a nearby tree, and before long, three flew out – clearly juveniles, not only from their plumage, but from their jubilant demeanor, as if they were so excited to be out exploring the world.

“I see a Hermit Thrush,” Sandra mentioned.

Bushtits buzzed in a number of trees.

“There’s a bird perched on that snag over there,” someone said.

“It looks like a Western Wood Peewee,” I responded. “See how it constantly turns its head to look from side to side,”

The trail descended into a stand of willows, which bordered the Santa Fe River. We paused at an overlook, where the water tumbled over the rocks. It was so peaceful.

“I hear a Virginia’s Warbler,” Beth said.

“Please tell me about it when you find it,” I asked Beth. “I have to leave now.”

As I scurried along the trail with Cheri and Mary Lou, who were leaving with me, we stopped to watch American Coots displaying in the large pond by flashing their white tail feathers. “There are Pied-billed Grebes,” Cheri said. There also were Mallards swimming and Red-winged Blackbirds calling from the reeds.

Several of the group e-mailed me the next day to tell me that one of the highlights of the walk through the Preserve was seeing two Black-billed Magpies soaring along the opposite ridge. They were life birds for Wendy and Gail who had only seen the Yellow-billed Magpies in California.

Beth did see the Virginia’s Warbler and a Bullock’s Oriole. “There were two birds that I heard, Warbling Vireo and Song Sparrow,” Rebecca told me. They are not included in the 31 species seen by the whole group.

Steve shared his highlight, “I tend to lag behind birding groups, often alone. After crossing the street alone and traversing a small meadow I saw a fly catcher high up in a snag. It was silhouetted against a deep blue sky, with scudding puffy white cumulus clouds passing by, providing infinite sets of lighting conditions. Yet the variety of lighting conditions would not reveal the identity of this bird. Finally, it revealed itself with its call. Later in the day Rebecca confirmed it was a Western Wood Pewee. It was interesting because I hadn’t seen or heard one for a quite a while. It was a birder’s reunion of sorts.”

After lunch, the group started the walk up the canyon where they saw and heard a Ruby-crowned Kinglet. And then it started to lightly sprinkle, so they came back down before it started raining harder. They really didn’t have a chance to explore the upper canyon.

Maybe next time.

After hanging around the center for awhile and checking out the Nature Store, the Randall Davey staff drove them back to the depot, providing time to explore nearby.

“I ended up having coffee with Wendy and Gail and found out that they are distantly related to Sei,” she told me later.

It was a long, but fulfilling day of birding and exploring the delights of riding the Rail Runner.

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Searching for the Elusive Gray Vireo

I was excited to get the invitation from Nancy Kassner, Civ USAF AFMC MDA/AL, with the subject line: “Birding for the elusive Gray Vireo at Kirtland Air Force Base–23 Jun 09 0730 (TUESDAY) (UNCLASSIFIED).”

Kirkland Air Force Base is one of the few reliable locations to see the Gray Vireo in central New Mexico. However, since 9/11, access to the base has become restrictive. And, it is even more restrictive in the area where the bird nests.

The e-mail continued: “Because the base is so restrictive, I can only lead two car loads of birders (NO CAMERAS or Recording devices) onto base for a three hour birding trip. You must have your passport with you.”

I jumped at the opportunity and immediately responded. Our birding location was to be the Starfire Optical Range.

Six of us met Nancy outside the base and squeezed ourselves into her car for the drive to our birding location. As we headed across the base, we spotted both Swainson’s and Red-tailed Hawk perched atop power poles.

At the gate to the fenced-in Starfire Optical Range, we stopped to show Suzanne our passports so she could log us into the system. Stationed as this remote area, she has taken an interest in birds and maintains both seed and hummingbird feeders, as well a bird bath. “There hasn’t been much exciting so far this morning she said,” motioning to the feeders. “Primarily House Finches.”

In the parking lot outside of the office building, we met Jack Drummond, a long-time birder and the laboratory’s Directed Energy Directorate astronomer. He would be our escort and guide for the morning.

Barn Swallows were swooping in and out from their nests affixed under the eaves on the outside of the building.

As we started walking down the road, we heard and then spotted a Say’s Phoebe. A Northern Mockingbird called. It turned out to be the most prevalent bird of the morning.

“Scott’s Oriole,” someone exclaimed. I turned back to take a look.

“Go up to the 3rd landing, and then out on the cross bar,” Donna said. A male was singing his heart out. When I focused my binoculars on him, I could see his mouth opening in song.

“I hear an Eastern Meadowlark,” Tom said. Pretty soon, we zeroed in on two of them in some low bushes. When they flew, they flashed white on the outside of their tails.

“The southwestern race of the Eastern Meadowlark has more white on its outer tail feathers,” Sei told us.

A Cassin’s Kingbird flew in and landed on a wire, and a little further on, we identified a Western Kingbird from its ‘fast-forward tape-recorder’ call. A Cassin’s flew into the power pole where the Western Kingbird was sitting. It was not pleased to share its space and took chase after the Cassin’s. By time we returned to the parking lot, we had seen multiple kingbirds of both species.

A Lark Sparrow flew in and perched on top of a shrub. It stayed there long enough for everyone to get a good look.

Just outside the fence we spotted a Blue Grosbeak. Its blue plumage was highlighted against the gray-green foliage. “It is just left of the tamarisk,” Donna relayed to one of the group who was having trouble spotting it. The female flew in, and the male took off.

I heard the tinkling sound of Black-throated Sparrows. They were popping up all along the dirt road. They didn’t stay up for long before they dove into the middle of the bush.

“This is where I have heard Gray Vireo’s calling,” Jack told us. It was an area where there was a dense stand of junipers. Today it was quiet. “They may be nesting,” Jack said. “Let’s try further down the road.”

When we didn’t hear them at the next location, Pat took out her iPod and played the vireo’s call, but we didn’t get a response.

“There’s a rattlesnake on the road,” Nancy exclaimed.

“Leave it to our security person to spot it,” Cheri laughed.

Jack, who told us he had run a snake show in the past, lifted the snake with a long stick. It hissed and rattled as he put it on the side of the road. “It has a dark tail,” Jack stated, “so it is probably a Timber Rattlesnake.”

When we were safely past, we stopped to watch an Ash-throated Flycatcher. A flock of House Finches settled in the bushes.

We had worked our way around the knoll where the telescope is located, and were back near Suzanne’s entry station. Jack unlocked the gate so we could get back to the parking lot without having to re-trace our steps.

Suzanne came out to meet us. “You just missed a Scott’s Oriole and a bird that I think is one of the vireos,” she stated. Sadly, we could not hang around.

A Western Scrub Jay flew between two bushes as we finished our walk.

“Anyone interested in seeing a Great-horned Owl?” Jack asked when we were back at the parking lot. “It roosts in that Quonset hut over there.”

We followed him over to the open-ended storage facility, and quietly approached. When we got opposite the opening, the owl took flight and cruised silently just above our heads.

“My office is on the 2nd floor over there,” Jack pointed. “I can sit at my desk and watch it fly out at dusk in the winter.”

And then it was time for us to head back out. Jack promised to let Nancy know when he heard the vireos singing again and said he would be willing to lead another walk.

About half-way back we slowed down when we spotted some prairie dogs running around.

“There’s a Burrowing Owl,” I stated. “It is sitting on that ‘No Parking’ sign over there.” And, across the street there was another one perched on a fence. I wished that I had been able to bring my camera with me.

Back at our cars we thanked Nancy for the wonderful opportunity and savored the memories of the morning.

Summer Birding in Otero Canyon

Canyon Towhee - Photo by Rebecca Purvis

Our morning started out with a Canyon Towhee greeting our group of Thursday Birders as we assembled at the Sandia Ranger Station in Tijeras. And then we were off to drive the three and a half miles south to Otero Canyon area.

“I always check out these trees for sapsuckers,” Rebecca said as we headed down the paved remains of the old road. “See the sapsucker holes? We have found Red-naped Sapsuckers here in the past.” However, no sapsuckers today.

Western Wood Peewee Photo by Rebecca Purvis

We stopped first to admire an Ash-throated Woodpecker, and then to watch the bug-catching behavior of a Western Wood Peewee. The peewee was perched on the top of a snag, and without binoculars, it was hard to see. “It looks just like a stick,” Mary commented. And then it flew out, grabbed an insect, and was back on its perch with perfect posture.

An American Robin called from the trees on our left, as did a Bewick’s Wren. We continued walking down the old road.

A Plumbeous Vireo was singing as it gleaned insects in a shrub on the hillside to our right. When someone commented on its slate-gray plumage, Donna explained, “plumbeous is from the latin word meaning gray or lead.”

Further along we heard a Spotted Towhee calling. It was one five that we saw during our time in the canyon. And then a Hairy Woodpecker flew across the road and landed in a tree.

Near the top of the cliff on the far side of the arroyo, two Black-throated Green Warblers flitted in a conifer.

Large yellow butterflies floated from plant to plant. When I caught a glimpse of yellow movement out of the corner of my eye, I kept expecting to see a bird and was surprised when it was a warbler-sized butterfly.

Next we headed down to the Cedro Creek Nature Trail. Brown-headed Cowbirds swooped through the canyon. Since 29 people were participating on this walk, it was too large of a group to follow along the trail together, so we broke into two groups.

Movement in a low juniper caught the attention of those in our group. Two Juniper Titmice were foraging. In the same area we could hear a warbler singing. It almost sounded like a Yellow Warbler, but was a Virginia’s. Our group never saw it; however, those in the other group were lucky to spot it.

Another warbling song emanated from the trees above the trail. “A Yellow-rumped Warbler,” Boyd said. “That’s the second one so far.”

At the fork in trail, trip leader Lannois took our group up the Tunnel Trail. As we headed up towards the ridge we saw first a female and further along the male Western Tanager. Its red and gold plumage was like a small beacon in the trees. A Mountain Chickadee called from a conifer, and a White-breasted Nuthatch scavenged insects under the bark. Before we headed back, we stopped to watch a Red-tailed Hawk circling over the canyon below.

Gray Flycatcher - Photo by Rebecca Purvis

When we reached the Cedro Trail again, Pat motioned to us, “Gray Flycatcher,” she said in a loud whisper. We got there in time to see it fly across the canyon floor to the hillside right above us, where it perched in plain view.

When we were almost back, a rapid warbling song alerted us to a Warbling Vireo. There were two of them foraging in a large scrub oak, occasionally popping into view.

We stopped to see what Kirstoff, an archeologist from Switzerland, had found. He pointed out rocks with creolite.

Another great day of birding.

Continuing Roadrunner Saga

Two sets of bird parents on my block are hunting for food for their young ‘uns. A pair of Western Scrub Jays has a nest in the piñon pine next to my driveway. The parents go about their good gathering stealthily. Despite the fact that they know that I am the one who replenishes the peanuts in the tray feeder and normally get excited when they see me, they will not approach their nest if I am around. Clearly demonstrating their corvid smarts, they act busy nearby and when they see me head into the garage, they quietly slip into the tree.

Today when I pulled into the garage, they were skirting the area. I noticed the Roadrunner parents pacing across the street. One tried to pounce on a Mourning Dove, but missed. I worried about the baby jays and didn’t want to loose any more baby birds from my yard. I grabbed my camera from the car and headed across the street thinking they would fly off. They were undeterred and hopped up on my neighbor’s wall. One finally left.

Preening Roadrunner

I kept approaching, hoping to scare the other one off. It tried to act nonchalant by engaging in an extended preening routine. I was standing only 3 feet away.

trying to scare me

Then it tried to scare me off by standing up straight, raising its crest and exposing its red eye patch, and then uttering an alarm call. It was the first time I had been close enough to see the slight hook on the end of its bill, which enables carnivorous birds to tear apart its prey – if it can’t swallow them whole. I had never noticed that its flight feathers had a slight greenish hue.

Instead of fleeing, I moved even closer. It finally jumped down off the wall, walked across the dirt, stooped under the gate leading to the next street and disappeared.

I quickly returned to my garage, secure that the hovering Scrub Jays could finally go safely to their nest with food for their babies.

Hungry Roadrunner

Down the hatch

I walked past the window in my living room just in time to see a Greater Roadrunner positioning a House Sparrow and then swallowing it – in much the same manner as a heron swallows a fish.

I silently backed up and then tip-toed to the kitchen table to retrieve my camera from where I had left it when I returned from the foothills this morning. The roadrunner was still there struggling with the sparrow. I snapped a picture through the window.

All done

Before long it was down, and its throat was bulging. I didn’t think it could run very fast with the bird lodged in its throat, so I took a chance and slowly opened the door. It squeaked, but the roadrunner was still standing there, allowing me to get a picture of its satisfied look.

A couple of weeks ago I heard a loud screeching as I opened my garage door. I stepped to the opening just in time to see a roadrunner race out of the tree next to my driveway, a fledgling in its mouth and an American Robin in hot pursuit – screaming at it.

I felt sad for the robin, since there are so few of them that nest on my street. “I wish it would have been a House Sparrow,” I wished out loud. Today, thankfully, it was the sparrow and not another robin.

The last time I was at the Rio Grande Nature Center, I noticed that the eggs in the roadrunner nest had hatched. There were three little faces peering at me from the eye-level nest near the road into the parking area. I guess when the parents are feeding hungry chicks they need more protein than just lizards.

The life cycle of nature goes on…

Nesting Birds at Embudo Canyon

Both Scaled and Gambel’s Quail were calling as the Thursday Birders headed north from the parking lot on Trail #401. The sun was just peeking over the mountains and it was cool in the foothills. The valley below sparkled in the clear air. A perfect morning to be birding.

Two kingbirds perched on a power line that stretched across the Open Space. “They sound like Cassin’s,” Rebecca said after hearing their kideer, kideer, kideer call. And then one of them flew off.

“I think you are right,” Gale said. “I didn’t see any white tail feathers as it flew.”

Cholla Blossom

We stopped to admire a round, thickly woven nest tucked in the intersection of three branches of a cholla cactus. It looked like the type built by Cactus Wrens, one of the birds we hoped to see. The cholla is starting to bloom and the magenta blossoms seemed to sparkle.

An Ash-throated Flycatcher called and we scanned the cactus until we spotted it. A Northern Mockingbirds flew into a nearby juniper. A group of American Robins flew past us into the small canyon to the north.

A flash of orange caught our attention. A Bullock’s Oriole dove into a juniper, rustled around inside, and then popped up on top, giving us a good view.

We heard two Cactus Wren calling about 100 yards away. Then we spotted one fly to the left, followed shortly by the other one. However, they went out of sight before we could get really good looks.

A Canyon Towhee, the first of seven we would see that morning, glided almost silently into the scrub. I could see the rust under its tail as it bent down to forage. A Curve-billed Thrasher flew in, perched and sang its gurgling song.

Larry, who had wandered ahead on a side trail, came back with a report of a Western Bluebird.

We watched a trio of male House Sparrows in some apache plume. Suddenly one of them darted up, did a loop over our heads, and caught a bug. “A cicada, I think,” Jan said.

A Spotted Towhee called near the mouth of the small canyon, and a Western Scrub Jay announced itself as it flew in.

We stopped to watch three Cassin’s Kingbirds mob a Cooper’s Hawk, which quickly took cover under a shrub. The kingbirds must have had a nest nearby, since they continued to verbally harass the hawk even when it was under cover.

“I heard a Canyon Wren calling,” Donna reported.

“I see a bird on that rock over there,” someone pointed to an outcropping. Rebecca got the scope on it – a Greater Roadrunner that was all fluffed up.

“Look, White Swifts,” Rebecca pointed up.

“They look like they might copulate in mid air,” someone exclaimed. We could hear them chattering far above us.

Black-throated Sparrow

The Black-throated Sparrows were rather elusive. When I was at this spot two weeks prior, the males were active singing on territory. They must have started nesting. One finally popped up and stayed on theof a bush, singing its tinkling song.

“Let’s head back this way,” trip leader Rebecca suggested, “maybe we can get another look at the Cactus Wren.

Cactus Wren

As if on cue, two flew in close to the trail. They seemed to be scolding us. We only lingered for a few moments, thinking that they had a nest nearby and wanted us to leave. Everyone got good looks this time – the perfect ending to the morning.

Gambel's Quail

After we dispersed, I drove down to Antonio and turned north to Haines. A Gambel’s Quail was calling from the top of a four-wing salt bush.

Birding on Foot in Los Angeles

It could have been a long day. I had no car and June gloom hung like a shroud outside. I had counted on going birding while my grand-daughter was at preschool.

Well, I thought, I suppose I could walk over to the soccer fields in the Sepulveda Basin Recreational Area, just a block from my son’s house. I could explore the edge of the fields that backs up to the Los Angeles River. Maybe, I could even walk over to Lake Balboa, where Carolyn from the San Fernando Audubon Society had suggested I might find a Tri-colored Blackbird.

Tri-colored Blackbird

As I entered the park on Oxnard Blvd., three birds were foraging in the grass next to the tennis courts. I peered at them through my binoculars. The white eye of the Brewer’s Blackbird caught my attention. Carolyn had told me that Tri-coloreds like to hang out with Brewer’s, so I focused on the next bird. It had red, and what looked like white, wing bars and the third bird, a female was darker and smudgier than Red-winged females. I took a photo and then zoomed in on it to make sure of the coloring. A life bird!

I thought about all of the times I had walked across this park to the children’s play area with my grand-daughter, barely paying attention to the Brewer’s Blackbirds that are always foraging in the grass!

Things were looking up – and I only had walked a block.

While I stood there, a Bullock’s oriole flew into a tree near the blackbirds, its bright orange plumage contrasting with the green foliage. Barn Swallows swooped back and forth across the fields.

There were only the usual suspects in the willows along the river, Mourning Doves, House Finches, and California Towhees.

Before I knew it, I was at Balboa Blvd. I crossed under the road on bike trail, side stepping as a bicyclist whizzed past me, and then scrunching along the edge of the trail where a group of nine moms were doing exercises on one half of the trail, while their strollers were parked on the other side.

Double-crested Cormorant

Lake Balboa was delightful – a popular place for people of all ages to enjoy their morning strolls or power walks. Almost right away, I saw group of Brewer’s Blackbirds – with one Tri-colored mixed in. A Double-crested Cormorant was perched on each piling across the lake. A Great Egret flew in to stand watch on the opposite bank, and was soon joined by a Snowy Egret. A few Pied-billed Grebes and Coots joined Mallards on the lake. An occasional Western Gull flew by. American Robins and Great-tailed Grackles strutted on the grass.

Great-blue Heron

Further along I saw a Great-blue Heron rookery in the tops of some eucalyptus trees along the river.

“How do I get to Woodley?” I asked a grounds-keeper who was taking a break from blowing leaves.

“Follow along this path until you get to the bridge over the creek,” He replied. “Then you walk along the road leading from the golf course. It is probably a mile.”

Undaunted, I walked on, making note of the restaurant sign on the side of the club house in the public golf course. Before long I was on Woodley; however, I was just south of Victory, so it was further than I thought to the entrance to the Sepulveda Wildlife Area. But, I had walked this far, so I kept going. The tubular flowers of the Desert Willows lining the parkway were in bloom, and I checked them for hummingbirds, hoping for an Allen’s. I did see an Anna’s.

Fortunately, a median divided the busy road just beyond the entrance of the wildlife area, which made it possible for me to cross four lanes of fast traffic. As I walked the three quarters of a mile into the wildlife lake, I was greeted by Northern Mockingbirds and California Towhees.

The wildlife lake was quiet and felt even more subdued with the gray skies. I began to scan the bushes where Carolyn suggested I might find an Allen’s Hummingbird, but none of the flowers were in bloom. As I started down the trail, one of the bushes was alive with the chittering of Bushtits. They began to exit one by one and seemed to follow me down the trail, picking off insects as they went.

juvenile Coot

I wandered down one of the informal trails towards the lake. A mother Coot was swimming near the edge with three squeaking juveniles. One of them followed her as she came on shore to check things out.

Further along Song Sparrows hopped out from the underbrush and bobbed along the trail before ducking back under cover. A couple of scruffy juveniles popped out above it, and then quickly disappeared. They looked as if they were surveying the outside world for the first time.

Great Egret

Double-crested Cormorants were lounging on the end of the island, and a Great Egret stood on the edge, never taking its eyes off the water.

A flock of Cliff Swallows flew round and round near the edge of the water, sometimes darting into the woods – one almost clipping my head.

Further along the trail, a Yellow Warbler popped out of the under brush, a bright spot on a dull day.

A woodpecker flew across the trail, recognizable by its ‘breast-stroke’ flight pattern. When it landed in some bare twiggy branches, I focused my binoculars on it – a Downey Woodpecker.

I worked my way back on the trail that borders the area of natural grasses, sages and wild flowers. The smell of damp sage filled the air. Lesser Goldfinches buzzed and mewed in the sun flowers. As I crossed the cricket field, a Bullock’s oriole flew into a nearby tree. Red-winged Blackbirds and European Starlings foraged in flocks on the grass. A Western Kingbird flew on and off its perch at the edge of the picnic area.

It was time to head back.

I trudged up Woodley, stopping to scan the Desert Willows. Nada. As I walked along the trail bordering the road into the golf course, I was literally picking up one foot, then setting it down, and repeating with the other foot. I kept the club house in view, knowing I could soon stop and rest my legs.

While I was sitting by the window over looking the gold course, I was rewarded with an Allen’s Hummingbird that flew into a bird of paradise type of plant right outside the window. It hovered long enough for me to get a good look. Another life bird!

Only another two miles back to BJ’s house. That evening when we added up every where I had wandered; BJ figured that I had walked at least six miles. In a land of endless freeways, I had walked most of the distance of the 2,000-acre Sepulveda Basin Recreation Area, enjoying a cross-section of its natural wonders. A delightful day indeed.

Late Spring Birds at Corrales Bosque

As usual, the first bird that greeted as along the irrigation ditch was a Black Phoebe. It looked so perky sitting on a twig over hanging the water as it waited for an insect to come by. It would then dart off, returning to its same perch. 22 Thursday Birders started slowly along the ditch bank reveling in the cool morning air, unusual for early June.

Black-chinned Hummingbirds abounded. They looked like specks as they perched high on slender snags on the top most branches of the trees growing along the far ditch bank. When another one came into its territory, it buzzed in circles to scare it off. Lesser Goldfinches seemed to be every where.

A spot of bright blue alerted us to a Blue Grosbeak. The early morning sun shone off its large beak. “It looks like shiny gold,” Mary, famous for her poetic descriptions, commented.

House finches flew in and out from the shrubs, while Barn Swallows swooped back and forth low over the water.

“I hear an Ash-throated Flycatcher,” Maureen reported – and then we spotted it across the ditch. Above it in the trees, the red feathers of a Summer Tanager looked like a small stop light.

As we neared the end of the ditch, two European Starlings flew in an out of the trees. They seemed to disappear into the trunk. “I think they are building a nest,” Rebecca said. “They are cavity nesters.”

We watched two Barn Swallows as they made trips to a mud puddle to gather mud for their nest.

As we entered the woods, we heard the rough chatter of a Yellow-breasted Chat. Sylvia and Mary Lou tromped through the under-brush to the river’s edge to get a look at it.

A Western Wood Peewee perched on a branch adjacent to the trail. Near by a Spotted Towhee called. We kept hearing it as we walked along, as though it was following us. Finally it came into view.

Someone spotted a White-breasted Nuthatch. We watched as it flitted amongst the foliage and trotted down a branch.

A raptor was circling overhead. “White arm pits, dark flight feathers, dark band around upper chest,” Gale described. “It must be a Swainson’s.”

“That’s a good recital of the field marks,” Ken stated.

Blue Groseak

Back at the trailhead, we walked along the trees on the west side of the irrigation ditch. We saw flashes of blue as three birds flew out from a nearby tree into the orchard and out of sight. After awhile, one of them flew back into the top of the tree near where we were standing. Blue Grossbeaks.

And then it was time to head to the Village Pizza.