Summer Birding in Jemez Mountains

Violet-green Swallows were gliding over the pond just west of La Cueva in the Jemez Mountains. Sixteen Central New Mexico Audubon Thursday Birders were gathered on a dirt road just off the highway.

“And I see a Barn Swallow,” John said.

In the fields beyond the pond we spotted an American Robin and Common Raven.

“There’s a Western Bluebird sitting on the fence post over there,” Barb reported.

“Come over here,” trip leader Sylvia beckoned. “There are a lot of birds in the willows along the dammed creek.” We scrambled over a ditch to join her.

A small stand of willows was alive with bird activity. Birds would fly in, feed, fly off and then be replaced by others. Among the birds that visited the willows were Pine Siskin, Yellow-rumped Warbler, Western Tanager, Western Wood Pewee, Lesser Goldfinch and both Broad-tailed and Rufous Hummingbirds.

“Listen,” Rebecca called. “Isn’t that the call of a Song Sparrow – maids, maids put on your tea kettle?” We never were able to spot it.

Two fly fishermen patiently trolled the area below the impressive beaver dam.

It was time to move on to our next stop. Before we left we were treated to a Great-blue Heron that flew in low over us, circled the pond, and then took off.

While we were paying our state parks day pass fee at Fenton Lake, we were treated to a Belted Kingfisher that flew low over the lake across from us.

We drove into the campground and pulled off opposite a meadow. A flock of Brewer’s Blackbirds foraged on the ground under the ponderosas.

On the far side of the meadow, some Pine Siskins and Lesser Goldfinches used a small tree as a resting spot between forays to a nearby creek. Blue and yellow wildflowers blanketed areas of the field.

Western Bluebird

A Western Bluebird flew in and landed on a camp fire grate. When it was perched, it looked drab; however, when it took flight to capture an insect in the grass beyond, its wings flashed a bright cobalt blue. Typical of Western Bluebirds, it hovered at the edge of the forest and didn’t venture into the meadow.

Another bluebird flew into a ponderosa near the female, followed soon afterwards by another one. Juveniles, they were all fluffed up.

“Oh, look,” Sylvia exclaimed. “They are ready to be fed.”

We traveled further into the campground and stopped next to a stream and small pond that backed up to the woods. Brightly colored dragonflies danced across the water.

A Northern Flicker flew across the clearing.

A Western Wood Pewee darted in and out from a low hanging branch. Another flycatcher flew in – an Olive-sided Woodpecker. It was hotly pursued by a juvenile squawking to be fed. As we watched, the flycatcher activity picked up, with several of both species, including numerous juveniles, zipping between trees on the edges of the forest.

There also were Mountain Chickadees and Yellow-rumped Warblers busy in the same area.

We scattered to several camp spots to eat our lunch. Some enjoyed the pond; others picked a spot next to a grove of willows. I sat at a table next to the stream. As we ate, two Song Sparrows foraged in the bushes along the stream, occasionally venturing into view.

A White-breasted Nuthatch flew in, and then a Hairy Woodpecker.

As we were heading away from Fenton Lake, we stopped to watch an Osprey fly over the lake and another one perched on the tip top of a fir tree.

Our last stop of the day was Jemez Falls. On the way in, we stopped to watch a small flock of chippies busy in the grass next to the road. As the others pulled ahead, our car stopped to watch a Cooper’s Hawk wing its way through the trees.

As we walked down the .3 mile trail to the falls, we stopped when we heard a flock of Pygmy Nuthatches chattering in the low branches of a ponderosa. However, they never came into view.

Jemez Falls

The view of the falls from the overlook was spectacular. While the water cascaded over the rocks deep into the canyon below, several people were soaking in the water pooled behind the falls.

“I don’t see any birds flying out from behind the waterfalls,” I stated.

“You have to look up in the sky and hope they will be circling overhead,” Sylvia replied.

I guess the time to see them coming or going from the behind the falls is early in the morning or just before sunset. We kept scanning the sky, but the only birds we saw were two Ravens floating on the thermals.

While we were checking to see whether there might be an American Dipper in the water at the edges of the falls, we were treated to a male Western Tanager who flew into a tree alongside the cliff.

We took the opportunity to go over the list for the day as we sat and enjoyed the view. After going through the list, Rebecca counted the species – 42 for the day.

It was so pleasant sitting there enjoying the view, that it was difficult to drag ourselves up and head back up the trail. It was wonderful to be in the cool air of the mountains enjoying montane birds while the valley sizzled below.

Summer Birds at 10,000 Feet

House Wrens were chattering at the edge of the aspen grove – and those who were towards the head of the line as the troupe of 17 Central New Mexico Audubon Thursday Birders headed across the meadow – had a chance to see it. It was the first of three for the morning, so we all would have an opportunity to see one.

We started at the south 10K trailhead, but instead of following the trail, we headed across the meadow on the cross-country ski trail. Some of the meadow grasses and wildflowers were almost waist high.

“Look at the tiny flowers on the figwort,” Rebecca pointed to those of us at the end of the line. “It is one of the hummingbird’s favorite flowers.” I later learned from my Field Guide to the Sandia Mountains that the flowers are what they call a “hummingbird delicatessen” and contain nutrients important to hummingbirds.

We sauntered along the narrow trail that bordered the grove of aspens which has sprung up from an earlier clear-cutting – and enjoyed the early morning at 10,000 ft. The trail then turned into the mixed conifer woods. We could hear a light tap-tapping.

“Woodpecker,” said someone who was further up the line. We all scrunched together to get a look.

There were two woodpeckers busy chipping away the bark of a dying spruce.

“Three-toed,” Charlotte exclaimed.

We stood and watched them for about few minutes before they flew off to the right.

The trail quickly emerged from the woods and we walked through another smaller meadow. From this vantage point, we could look out over the east mountain area.

This meadow was alive with a variety of birds. Green-tailed Towhees popped up from the grasses, Pine Siskins flew to a barren tree; Yellow-rumped Warblers busied themselves at the edge of the woods, and a Northern Flicker flashed red under its wings as it dashed across the meadow. A Cordilleran Flycatcher flew into a small snag and paused long enough for me to see its yellowish belly and white eye-ring – and then it flew off.

A Hairy Woodpecker pounded its bill into a conifer, while a second pair of American Three-toed Woodpeckers worked the side of a dead spruce – and then flew off in the opposite direction from the previous pair.

As we walked into the next wooded area we encountered a buzz of activity. A mixed flock of birds were in a feeding frenzy. The nasal tin-horn call of feeding Red-breasted Nuthatches seemed to communicate their pleasure. Mountain Chickadees and White-breasted Nuthatches were equally busy.

Juvenile Gray-headed (dark-eyed) Juncos seemed to be everywhere.

“That one looks like it is canoodling,” Richard commented.

“It’s kind of late in the season for that kind of behavior,” I laughed.

“Oh, it’s just a female feeding a young bird,” someone replied.

A Brown Creepers inched its way up a conifer trunk. “Finally, a creeper for my year list,” Marge said gleefully.

We watched a Dusky Flycatcher fly out and then back from a low tree limb.

Band-tailed Pigeon

And then it was time to turn back. As we headed back down the trail, a Band-tailed Pigeon flew in and landed on a bare snag on top of a tree.

There was no sign of the woodpeckers as we back-tracked through the woods.

A few Violet-green Swallows swooped over the main meadow and a Warbling Vireo called from the adjacent woods. A Broad-tailed Hummingbird dropped down to enjoy a figwort.

Back in the parking lot we went over the list for the morning – 24 species. But we weren’t done yet – a chippie flew into the grass at the edge of the parking lot and Roger spotted a Sharp-shinned Hawk across the highway.

Bluebirds and Hummingbirds in the Manzanos

Four species of hummingbird buzzed in and out from the feeders hanging from the porch over-hang while Bill Simms brought 32 Central New Mexico Audubon Thursday Birders up-to-date on his 47 bluebird boxes.

While he talked to us, a variety of birds came into the seed feeders behind him. Western Scrub Jays sailed in and out of a piñon pine. Juniper Titmice approached the tray feeder more tentatively. Lark Sparrows displayed their bold face patterns from their perches nearby. Least Goldfinches announced themselves with their plaintive call.

“The early summer rains had a significant impact on nest success and the number of 2nd nests,” Bill told us. “Last year we only had six second nests, and this year there are 27, which is almost 100%.

He passed out a graph that showed nesting began around the first of May and second nesting started a month later. The graph also charts the number of eggs and fledged chicks. “We might get close to 190 successfully fledged chicks by the end of the season,” he said.

This is the 13th year Bill has kept data on the nests, which are scattered over his 200 acres. The trek around the property to record data each week takes 1 ½ – 2 hours. At the end of each season, he submits his records to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology.

“I designed the boxes I use to minimize disruption and predation,” Bill explained. “The top swivels to one side so I can check the eggs and checks in the shortest period of time.” Each pole also has a baffle, and there is a screen tunnel around each hole. The only predator he has not been able to foil is a weasel. “They are like walking hot dogs,” he said laughing.

Bonnie told us that she had placed 15 of Bill’s boxes on property near her home, a couple of miles down the road. Eleven boxes were used this season.

Checking out bluebird chicks

Some of us followed Bill out to peek in one of the occupied boxes. As we approached, the male sat on top of the box guarding his checks. He and his mate did not fly very far as Bill swiftly unscrewed and swung the lid to one side. Four checks huddled in the bottom of the box. We quickly took our looks and moved away.

Western Bluebird

By time we had gone a few paces, the male was back in position.

In contrast, when we were within 20 feet of a box occupied by an Ash-throated Flycatcher, both parents flew some distance away, and didn’t return as long as we were in the vicinity.

Less getting ready to blow out candles

Our next stop was Bonnie’s house, where we enjoyed a potluck lunch and celebrated the 95th birthday of one of the Thursday Birders.

Flashes of copper whizzed in and out of the trees as Rufous Hummingbirds tried to ward off other hummingbird species from several of Bonnie’s feeders. Fortunately, we could watch Calliope, Broad-tail and Black-chinned Hummingbirds at the other feeders.

Under the trees, Pine Siskins encircled a thistle feeder, while chippies and House Finches flitted in and out of others.

Says's phoebe chicks - photo by Bonnie Long

“Be sure and check out the Says’s Phoebe chicks from the computer room,” Bonnie encouraged. We were impressed with the parent who had a sense of fairness as she fed each chick in turn.

All too soon it was time to wind our way back down to Highway 337 and return to Albuquerque, as we basked in the memories of a wonderful day.

Quest for the Three-toed Woodpecker

The woods on either side of the trail seemed to hum with the songs and chirps of Yellow-rumped Warblers, Gray-headed Juncos, Mountain Chickadees, and White-breasted Nuthatches. Periodically, the melodic song of a Hermit Thrush soared above the chatter. It seemed idyllic as I strolled down the path from the exit road out of the parking lot at Sandia Crest, along with 16 other Central New Mexico Audubon’s Thursday Birders.

The field trip had announced that we were going on a quest for an American Three-toed Woodpecker. Trip leader Gale was dubious that we would find one. She had spent the prior two days traipsing back and forth along the trails in the areas where it had been seen the prior two years. “You will see plenty of Hairy Woodpeckers,” she told us before we started out. My friend Sara and I spent time as we were driving comparing and contrasting the field marks of both similar-looking woodpeckers.

female Three-toed Woodpecker - Photo by Rebecca Purvis

We had just finished watching a Hermit Thrush bounce along in the tree litter, when a woodpecker flew in and landed on a spruce trunk right in front of where we were standing. I had just convinced myself it was a Three-toed, when someone called out its name. The bird I was focusing on was a female, so the ID had to be made from the pattern on its back, which Gale described as being like a child scribbling outside the lines. It also had barring on its shanks. Before I could turn on my camera, it was gone. Becky grabbed a photo as it was making its move.

Meanwhile, others in the group had focused on another one – a male. “I can see the yellow crown spot,” Donna exclaimed.

And, then they were off, never to be seen again. We felt fortunate to be at the right place at the right time.

Further along the path we stopped when we heard a light tap-tapping. Since Three-toed Woodpeckers flake off bits of bark, they don’t have the nail-pounding drum of other woodpeckers. Could it be another one? But no, it was a White-breasted Nuthatch pecking away. After it retrieved the insect, it flew up, and then popped into a hole in the side of an aspen trunk – its nest!

We heard the tin horn call of a Red-breasted Nuthatch. It always sounds much further away than it actually is. Donna describes them as being like a ventriloquist. And, then we saw one in a tree right next to the path, working busily amongst the wispy moss, which hung like the long strands of a stringy beard from the branches of a number of conifers.

Western Wallflower

We watched a Hairy Woodpecker, Green-tailed Towhee and House Wren in Kiwanis Meadow. There was a profusion of wildflowers. The reddish-orange Western Wallflower stood out amongst the rest. It normally is yellow; however, at higher elevations it is a darker, more brilliant color.

Rocky Mt. Penstemon

The royal-purple flowers of the Rocky Mountain Penstemon was a close second. A variety of bees and flies hovered around and slipped in and out of the funnel-shaped flowers.

“I wonder what kind of flycatcher that is,” someone commented and our attention was focused away from the flowers to a number of small birds ‘fly-catching’ from the trees across from the meadow.

“I see some yellow,” someone else stated.

“They are Yellow-rumped Warblers,” John said. “They often have that kind of behavior.”

We wandered along Crest Trail for a ways and then down one of the side trails, hoping to have another look at the woodpecker. There were very few of the indicative spruce chips we had seen in prior years that led us to the woodpecker. On either side of the trail was a jumble of fallen trees, victims of bark beetle disease. Many more were marked with blue, indicating they are slated to be felled to prevent harm to someone on a nearby trail.

juvenile Ruby-crowned Kinglet - Photo by Rebecca Purvis

A small bird caught our attention as it worked the edges of the trail along the meadow. It didn’t seem to have any particular salient field marks.

“It’s a Ruby-crowned Kinglet,” Charlie all of a sudden reported. “I can see its red crest.” We were all intrigued that while it didn’t have its wing bars or eye ring, it already had a red crest.

Back at the cars we went through the list for the day and were delighted that we had seen 30 species, including the Great-horned Owl fly-over spotted by Sei’s car on the way up to the Crest and about 10 species seen at the Sandia Ranger Station where we had convened earlier that morning. Most important, our quest for the American Three-toed Woodpecker had been successful.

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.

.

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.