The first thing we noticed were the three Long-billed Dowitchers feeding in the small pond nearest to the I-25 Bypass Road.

Long-billed Dowitchers

Twenty-two Thursday Birders slowly worked their way down Don Felipe Street along the Belen Marsh.

Red-winged Blackbird

In the water behind the reeds, two Ruddy Ducks and an American Coot swam quietly. I was delighted to see the coot, since they appeared to have vacated the marsh last spring and summer.

American Avocets

“Ring-necked Pheasant,” Donna exclaimed. Its rusty feathers caught the morning sun and stood out amongst the dry grasses on the slope beyond the pond.

A flock of peeps flew in and started working the edge of the sand bar. And, then another group flew in closer, giving us better looks. There were Baird’s, Least, and Western Sandpipers.

Trip leader, Linda Heinze, signaled that it was time to leave so we could head over to the Whitfield Wildlife Conservation Area.

A Western Meadowlark sang in a nearby bush while we were greeted by Charlie Sanchez, Chair of Valencia Soil and Water Conservation District, the sponsoring agency, who provided an overview of the conservation area. “We are lucky to have acquired water rights when the property was donated to us,” he said. Behind Sanchez, a Black-chinned Hummingbird buzzed in and out of a shrub below the berm where we were standing.

Ted Hodoba, the new Project Manager, told us about the first phase of the Visitor Center, which will open in early summer. “The development of Whitfield is essentially a restoration project,” he explained. “Volunteers have planted over 3,000 trees – cottonwoods, screwbean mesquites, Gooding’s willows, and New Mexico olives.”

“A Willet flew into the wetlands,” Rebecca exclaimed after Hodoba’s presentation, and we set off along the trail to get a better look.

A variety of water birds were plying the flooded fields. A lone Snow Goose foraged by itself. A group of Wilson’s Phalaropes spun at the far end, and Northern Shovelers, Mallards, Blue-winged Teal and Gadwalls paddled in and out amongst the grasses.

Long-billed Curlew

A raptor circled overhead. The wide bands on its tail and soaring behavior identified it as a Cooper’s Hawk.

Molly Madden, President of the Friends of Whitfield, joined us on the walk. “I live just down the road,” she told me. “I was recruited when I retired from teaching to help develop educational programs.”

Just beyond the wetlands we came to a grassy area. “This is being restored as a salt grass marsh,” Hodoba explained. “It is very rare in New Mexico.”

We stopped to check out the branches of a gnarled cottonwood, where a Great-horned Owl nested last spring. Just beyond an Eastern Bluebird flew in and landed on the top of one of the seedlings.

“It looks scraggly,” Sei commented.

“The different colored flags signal the existence of different species,” Hodoba responded when someone asked their significance. “They let the tree planters know not to disturb them.” Poles were inserted when the seedlings were planted to assist with hand watering while the trees take root.

We circled back around, stopping to watch the Wilson’s Phalaropes skirt behind the legs of a Black-necked Stilt.

As we enjoyed our lunch at Casa de Abo, we went over the species list and were delighted that we had seen 44 species.

Bernardi Wildlife Management Area - Photo by Ray Reid

Say's Phoebe - Photo by Ray Reid

A Killdeer flew in and landed in the field.

A few others explored the trees beyond the irrigation ditch. As we watched I saw three Northern Flickers fly briefly into the trees, and then take off again. A Northern Mockingbird was perched on the top of another tree, and a Black Phoebe was catching insects from its perch on the top of an irrigation pipe.

Barn and Northern Rough-winged Swallows flew in pairs over the irrigation ditch.

“I saw a flash of yellow,” Joan reported. Before we could focus on it, it had disappeared.

My attention was drawn to the group that had wandered the path behind the bushes, checking out another bushy area just beyond another irrigation channel. They had seen a Brewer’s Sparrow. By time I arrived, it flitted deeper into the bushes. Sei and Karen headed towards the rear of the hedgerow, and I followed them. All of a sudden the sparrow popped into view and I got a good look at it.

We could hear a scolding sound and tried to locate the calling bird. When we returned to the group, Rebecca told us it was a Ruby-crowned Kinglet and showed us where it was flitting.

Our attention was drawn to a flycatcher that was keeping low. It would fly down to the ground and then back up to its perch. Clearly it was an epidonax. Our next job was to try and identify which one it was. We had two scopes focused on it.

“I think it is a Gray Flycatcher,” Rebecca said.

“Sibley’s says that it forages in low bushes and doesn’t move around much,” Karen said, consulting her field guide. “And it has a yellow mandible.”

“This one flips its tail down and has a yellow lower mandible, and it certainly is not very active,” Rebecca commented as she looked at it again through her scope.

We all agreed that it was a Gray Flycatcher.

Black-crowned Night Heron - Photo by Rebecca Purvis

We drove down the road a ways to the next viewing platform. The only bird we could see from the platform was a Western Meadowlark. It was singing its heart out from the top of a tree, and then flew down to the field.

“I saw a Marsh Wren,” Donna said, as we scanned the reeds long the irrigation channel. We could hear its repertoire inside the dried stalks. Then it flew across the channel and landed briefly on a reed where we all could get a good look, before it flew back and disappeared again.

Someone else spotted a Song Sparrow.

Then a flash of yellow caught our attention. This time we all saw it – a Wilson’s Warbler.

“I can see its yamaka,” Mary said.

As we were driving to the south side of the refuge, two Mallards flew up out of the ditch. To our left a Turkey Vulture circled.

A kingbird was perched in some bare branches across from the parking area.

“It has a very gray head,” Shelley said.

We decided it was a Cassin’s.

We wandered down one of the trails leading from the parking area. A Spotted Towhee whined harshly at us as we passed. At the end of the path, we were rewarded with good looks at a Western Kingbird.

Ray wandered down the road to see if he could spot the Great Horned Owl that had been seen in late February, but struck out.

There was a lot of activity in a brush pile. A couple of Bewick’s Wrens chased each other along a branch. “They are either courting or fighting,” Donna remarked.

Another Wilson’s Warbler also flitted in the same pile.

The breast of another Western Kingbird looked like a small light from its perch in a nearby tree.

As we were heading back to the cars, a flock of White-faced Ibis flew overhead in formation.

“Sixty-eight,” Rebecca stated. “I counted them through my scope.

When I went through the count for the morning, we were delighted to discover that we had seen 35 species.

All but one car headed up Highway 116 towards Belen, where we ate lunch at the Sheriff’s Posse Café, near the Belen Marsh. We wore our binoculars inside to demonstrate that birders are an economic asset to a community.

Black-necked Stilt

There were two groups of peeps. One group was working the edges of a sand bar, and the other group bustled about on the shore not too far from us. A Killdeer mingled in the midst of the peeps at the shore. There were two different sandpiper species in each group. One was smaller and browner and had light-colored legs – undoubtedly Least Sandpipers.

Baird's Sandpiper - Photo by Ray Reid

“Do you think they are Baird’s?” Rebecca asked Sei as he looked through the scope?

“I think so,” he replied.

Both Barn and Rough-winged Swallows buzzed and swooped over the pond. A pair of Cinnamon Teal swam near the reeds, while a Blue-winged Teal couple hung out near the far shore.

A constant chorus of gurgling emanated from the reeds. Blackbirds, predominantly females, perched like sentinels every few feet on stalk-tops.

“I see a Yellow-head,” Donna exclaimed.

“And, I can hear one,” Rebecca said. “Their call sounds like they are being strangled.”

And then reluctantly, it was time to head back to Albuquerque.

One of my favorite birding blogs, A DC Birding Blog, which links to mine, listed his top 8 nature moments of 2008. It was a great idea, so I am going to borrow it. There were so many wonderful moments that it was hard to choose my favorites. The following is my list – not in order of priority, but chronologically:
1. Watching the flocks of rosy finches swirl into the feeders on the deck of the Crest House at Sandia Peak.
2. Explaining the importance of the Belen Marsh to Albuquerque Journal reporter, Toby Smith, which resulted in him becoming an advocate for its preservation – and later working collaboratively with other nature lovers to try and save the marsh from destruction.
3. Watching territorial male Red-faced Warblers and Painted Redstarts at the Iron Creek Campground near Silver City, NM.
4. Hiking in the Santa Monica Mountains in Southern California.
5. Observing the Mississippi Kites in Roswell’s Calhoon Park
6. Spotting a Three-toed Woodpecker at Sandia Crest
7. Exploring the Sepulveda Wildlife Basin in Southern California.
8. Gazing in awe at the spectacular red leaves of the Big Tooth Maples in Fourth of July Canyon.
9. Savoring the golden leaves set against a back drop of red cliffs at Ghost Ranch.
10. Watching three kinds of tits flit back and forth between feeders near Elgin, Scotland.

The morning was cool and overcast as the 18 Thursday Birders headed towards Belen. It started to sprinkle as we passed Los Lunas and we were afraid our morning might be ruined. Miraculously, as we glided onto Don Felipe Rd., the drops began to dissipate. Since we wouldn’t be looking into the sun, it would be a great day to look for shorebirds in the wetland.

“Look,” Dennis gestured, “that tree is full of Yellow-headed Blackbirds.” As the last of the drizzle ended, they took flight en masse.

Thursday Birders - Photo by Ray Reid

Wilson's Phalaropes - Photo by Ray Reid

Small groups of ‘peeps,’ Least and Western Sandpipers, worked the edges at various locations around the pond. At the far edge, Wilson’s Snipe blended in with the grass as they foraged along the shore. One group, huddled around a scope, saw a Semi-palmated Plover.

Both Greater and Lesser Yellowlegs appeared to be prancing as they stalked independently in the center of the water.

Solitary Sandpiper

Several species of waterfowl lounged in small groups, all masquerading in eclipse plumage. By studying their size, bill shape, speculums and tail feathers, we identified Wood Ducks, Gadwalls, American Wigeons, Mallards, Northern Shovelers, Green-winged Teal and Ruddy Ducks.

I led some of the group across the south end of the pond to the other side to see if any passerines were in the willows. Lou and Bev spotted some Chipping and Vesper Sparrows.

As we went over our list, we were treated to a flock of Snowy Egrets as they flew over.

We made our way to the Isleta marshes. The Cinnamon Teal and Red Heads that had made their homes there during the summer had already left. A couple of Coots huddled in the reeds of the south pond. The north wetlands were quiet. Mary spotted a long Black Phoebe perched inconspicuously on a small snag.

And then it was time to head home, please we had seen 33 species.

Eight members of our “Belen Marsh Task Force” gathered at the wetlands this past weekend, with Julia Dendinger, a reporter with the Valencia County News-Bulletin.

As we headed down the road towards the marsh, four Cattle Egrets rose up and flew away. At the edge of the first pond, we immediately spotted Kildeer and Cinnamon Teal in eclipse plumage.

The summer rains had created a thick carpet of grasses around the ponds, the seed heads were amber, and the cattails had grown tall. It was a pleasant late summer afternoon with a slight breeze.

“Let’s look and see what kind of sandpipers those are,” Rebecca commented as she set down her scope and peered through it. “They are Least Sandpipers. Come look. The are brownish, have yellowish legs and a thin bill.”

“They are migrating,” I explained to Julie. “Areas such as the Belen Marsh are critical to the survival of shorebirds as they travel from Alaska and the northern Canadian provinces where they breed to their wintering grounds in Mexico and South America.” Read more…

As I turn onto Don Felipe Road next to the Taco Bell in Belen, the first thing that catches my eye is the mound of dirt that had been pushed right up to the edge of the first pond. Then my eye drops and I see a Black-necked Stilt and an American Avocet sitting on their nests on the edge of the pond. My heart stops. Would the large equipment operator know there are nests in the path of the bulldozer?

As I drive down the street I notice that the dead tree has been knocked down. It served as an evening roosting spot for Cattle and Snowy Egrets,

It is hard to believe that in two weeks so much damage has been done and that the wetland really is in peril.

More stilts and avocets are sitting on nests at various spots adjacent to the main pond. I pull my car over to the edge of the road and pull out my binoculars. The low light of the early evening casts a golden hue. Barn and Rough-winged Swallows careened and swooped over the pond.

Three Long-billed Dowitchers probe in the mud on a sandbar that juts into the large pond. Most of the dowitchers I had seen this spring as they migrated through New Mexico were still in their nondescript winter plumage. These are in fresh breeding plumage. Their breast feathers have molted to a rufous color, to blend in with the arctic grasses where they will begin nesting in about three to four weeks.

On the far shore several female Mallards rest in the weeds along side their growing hatchlings. Just beyond them is evidence of debris pushed beyond the bulldozed dirt.

American Coots normally ply this pond and I had looked forward to seeing the mothers swimming with their striped-headed chicks. There are no coots today, nor had they been two weeks ago when I visited. Evidently sensing danger, they had moved to a safer location.

Normally the marsh reeds would be full of territorial Red-winged Blackbirds. Tonight I only spot a few. Since they use a new nest for each of their broods, I can only hope that the first brood has hatched and the males and their harems have moved on. The marsh seems subdued without the calling Red-winged Blackbirds.

Snowy and Cattle Egrets begin to fly in and land on the sandbar, and then went about their business of feeding and preening. I wonder where they are roosting since the snag is knocked over. Timothy Mandeville’s wonderful photo of the egrets is above.

I chat with Julie and Timothy Mandeville who are taking photographs of the birds. “Did you know that they are going to fill this in?” Julie asked me. “A car stopped and asked us if we were for it or against it.”

“I am affiliated with Central New Mexico Audubon,” I tell her. “We are concerned and want to see this important habitat preserved. Would you take some photos that will help people see what is happening?”

Habitat loss is a major threat to shorebirds world wide. According to The Shorebird Guide (O’Brien, Crossley and Karlson), about 50 percent of natural wetlands have been filled or drained and an additional 35 square miles of wetland are lost each year. Will this critical stopover and nesting area be added to the total?

“I’m going to pull off on this dirt road,” Rebecca said as she eased off of highway 25 in Belen. “Check the prairie dog burrows to see if there are any Burrowing Owls.” Rebecca and I were taking Albuquerque Journal writer Toby Smith to see the birds at the Belen Marsh behind the Taco Bell.

On the west of the road, the land had been cleared and graded and there weren’t any new burrows. On the east, the dirt was still covered with high dried grass. While there were some holes that had prairie dogs perched on the rim, the owls would not share those burrows because there is no way to spot predators. We had not seen Burrowing Owls here since the summer of 2006, but keep hoping.

Toby’s photographer, Richard, and our friend Donna joined us when we reached the parking lot. After two months dealing with health problems, if felt good to be out looking at birds.

An accipiter circled high above the marsh. “Probably a Sharp-shinned Hawk,” Rebecca commented.

Black-necked Stilts and American Avocets had returned from their wintering grounds in Mexico. The stilts would soon be nesting, while the avocets would be heading north. Even at midday, both species continued to feed. The stilts appeared to tip-toe through the shallow water as they picked in the water. The avocets moved their upturned bills from side to side just below the surface of the water to capture its food. Rebecca pointed out how the avocet rests on one leg.

“Look at the Wilson’s Phalaropes in the scope,” Rebecca beckoned to Toby. “See how they swim in circles? That’s how they stir up their food.”

Long-billed Dowitchers probed the mud on the edges of the pond. The pond is a way stop for them as well. They will reach their breeding grounds on Alaska’s northernmost shore by the end of May.

A group of small birds flew up and circled in synchronized motion. “We call those peeps,” Rebecca explained. “There are several kinds of sandpipers that look very similar. I will see if I can get them in the scope so we can figure out what they are.” After scrutinizing, she determined they were Least Sandpipers.

A few male Red-winged Blackbirds each perched tenuously on the tops of their territorial dry reed, undoubtedly protecting an incubating female nestled at the base. Two Great-tailed Grackles squawked from some bare snags. A Western Meadowlark called from the nearby field.

A local resident stopped to chat when we returned to the parking lot. “The wetland is special to those of us who live around here. If I win the lottery,” she proclaimed, “I am going purchase the land and have it set aside as a refuge.”

The marsh, only discovered by birders in the past few years, is nestled across the street from Wal-Mart. Hopefully, it will remain an oasis for wintering and breeding waterfowl, as well as migrating shorebirds.

“Look out the high window,” I pointed, as we enjoyed our lunch at Taco Bell. A Swainson’s Hawk, only seen during the late spring and summer, was patiently circling.

It had been a delightful morning sharing our passion for birds.

The rain came down steadily as we cruised down Interstate 25 towards Belen. However, it was only misting when the Thursday Birders assembled in the parking lot behind Taco Bell, and by time we had gathered at the side of the marsh, it had almost stopped. The good news was that we would not be looking into the sun while trying to identify shorebirds.

Peeps were working the edge of the main pond. Most were Western Sandpipers; however, with diligence we picked out Least Sandpipers with their straighter bills and greenish legs. They really looked diminutive next to the Killdeer that were grazing near by. As the shorebirds scattered and reassembled, we identified some Baird’s Sandpipers. They were slightly larger than the Least and Westerns and had a brown wash across their chests.

Phalaropes were swimming in circles in the middle of the pond. Without looking too closely, we assumed they were Wilson’s who regularly make a stop at this location during migration. Bev made us take a closer look. “I think they are Red-necked Phalaropes,” she asserted. “Look, they have a black mask. Wilson’s don’t have that during the fall.” This was a new bird for many and we all took turns looking through the many scopes.

Watching the shorebirds forage made me ponder the wonders of migration. Three months ago I saw the Red-necked Phalarope, Western Sandpiper and Long-billed Dowitcher on their breeding grounds on the arctic tundra. I fantasized that the Red-necked Phalaropes were among those I saw displaying in the partially frozen ponds in Barrow. However, since it was a mixed group of males and females, they undoubtedly were juveniles on their way to their wintering grounds off the Western coast of Mexico or Chile.

We watched a Wilson’s Snipe and two Long-billed Dowitchers on the far side of the pond. A Yellow-rumped Warbler landed briefly in a small bush, and then flew off. A few Barn Swallows sailed in and out. A mixed flock of Red-winged and Yellow-headed Blackbirds flew in synchronization. A Belted Kingfisher sat patiently on a wire beyond the marsh and a Cooper’s Hawk was almost camouflaged in the bare branches of a small tree.

A number of waterfowl were enjoying the pond: Mallards, Gadwall, Northern Shovelers, Ruddy Duck, both Blue and Green-winged Teal, and Cinnamon Teal. The real surprise was a pair of Red Heads.

“A Sora,” Gail exclaimed, and our attention focused on the reeds on the north end of the pond. It ducked back between the grasses, but pretty soon a Virginia Rail made an appearance. After watching patiently, the Sora reappeared so everyone could get a good look.

Most of the group made their way across the grasses at the south end of the pond to the dirt road on the other side. As we walked north, we saw an early White-crowned Sparrow, a Green-tailed Towhee, Western Meadowlarks, a Kestrel, a Black Phoebe and a lingering Western Kingbird. As we made our way back across the brushy weeds to the parking lot, Rebecca spotted a Brewer’s Sparrow.

When we went over the checklist over lunch at Jason’s in Los Lunas, we were delighted with a total of 48 species for the day.

Binoculars are probably the most essential piece of gear for a birding trip leader. On Wednesday nights, I always put mine on the kitchen table so they will be ready when I roll out of the house early in the morning. As I was this week’s trip leader to the marshes and flooded fields in Belen and Isleta, I also set out my scope.

The scope and tripod were still in their cases from their ride back from New Orleans in my friend Barb’s suitcase. Before I left the house I attempted to assemble them for easy retrieval. However, the tilt handle seemed jammed between the legs of the tripod, and I couldn’t loosen them. Frustrated, I put them in the trunk of my car hoping a more experienced scope-user could assist me. When I arrived at the carpool rendezvous spot, I realized I had left my binoculars on the table.

On site the tilt handle suddenly cooperated and I set up my scope. It worked well for watching the mating of Black-necked Stilts, peering at the brilliant golden heads of Yellow-headed Blackbirds, and following the paddling and dabbling of summer and lingering winter waterfowl. Thanks to Dr. Weinstein, I could rely on my bionic eyes to decipher the field marks and flying patterns of the four different species of swallows we observed during the day: Barn Swallows with their forked tails and steel blue backs, stocky-looking Cliff Swallows with squared-off tails, Northern Rough-winged Swallows with brown backs and throats, and Bank Swallows with their dark chest bands.

The morning was chilly for mid April as we arrived at the parking lot behind the Taco Bell in Belen to observe the Burrowing Owls that nest in the vacant lots to the south and west of the restaurant. Perhaps they were snug in their abandoned prairie dog burrows, as none were standing guard next to their holes in their usual fashion. So we proceeded down the street to the two ponds in the marsh.

“What’s that tall duck on the far side of the pond?” Sei asked. The group gathered and focused their scopes and binoculars. Field guide were consulted as this bird became the focus of intense observation and discussion. Was it a Gadwall, a hybrid, an escaped bird? There was no firm consensus.

Following lunch, two carloads of birders remained as we traveled to the marsh in Isleta. We had a clear view since the winter snows had flattened the reeds surrounding the pond. There were single birds of several species of water fowl. A lone Canada Goose languished, a single Lesser Scaup swam to one end of the pond and back several times, a Redhead buzzed in and out of the reeds. Insects must have been swarming because periodically all of the swallows gathered together and flew in a tight circle high above the water, then resuming their normal low swoops and sails.

Seven Black-necked Stilts danced through the water in a flooded field just north of the marsh and a pair or Cinnamon Teal swam through the shallow water. With my bare eyes I could see a scurrying movement on the far side of the water. We had been watching through the car windows as the wind was picking up. Rebecca leapt out of her car and came hurrying towards us. “Common Snipe,” she told us as we piled out of the car.

The pattered feathers of this ‘shorebird’ that is slightly larger than a robin, helped it blend into the yellow and brown grasses. Donna handed me her binoculars so I could see the white stripes on its head and back and its long probing beak.

As we savored the end of the trip and our 38 bird trip list, the nasal gurgling of Red-winged Blackbirds echoed around us.