Return to the Field

What with home selling and buying, moving, work changes, health concerns, and more this year, I haven't been into the field to enjoy birds in months, but this past weekend I took two hours to reacquaint myself with the joys of binns hanging around my neck, my field bag and camera bag bumping on opposite hips, and the feel of cold fingers in the autumn breeze as I fiddled with a focus wheel. I'd forgotten how good it truly feels to be out birding.

I felt I was rewarded, though with only spotting six species on one of my favorite loops in Provo Canyon, other birders might not agree that it was a productive morning. Still, the birds I saw were most memorable...

• American Dipper: Dipping along in the river, and falling off a rock in its haste to secure what must have been a very tasty morsel.
• Black-Billed Magpie: Elegantly flying through the picnic area of the park where I began my walk, sunlight glinting off its regal plumage.
  
• Song Sparrow: Twittering back at me and eagerly responding to simple pishing as it hopped and skittered through thick brush.
  
• Belted Kingfisher: Irately buzzing along the river in a never-ending quest for food, strong wing beats giving it both power and speed.
  
• Black-Capped Chickadee: Frantically foraging for insects in the last remaining autumn leaves, never sitting still for an instant.
• Spotted Sandpiper: Walking and probing along an exposed sandbar from the drained reservoir, meticulously pacing the shore while foraging.

No matter what birds you may or may not see, it pays to get out into the field to enjoy them all. I won't be so long away from the trails, paths, forests, fields, and feathers again.

Welcoming 2011

When this first day of the new year dawned bright, cold, and clear, I could think of no better way to welcome 2011 than with a birding walk. My husband and I headed down to the Provo River trailhead near Utah Lake, a stretch we've walked several times in the past couple of weeks, but every walk is a surprise. This morning's birding was among the best I've had there in the past weeks, and twenty fun and fantastic species joined me in the new year.

• Song Sparrow
• White-Crowned Sparrow
• Black-Billed Magpie
• Northern Flicker
• Black-Capped Chickadee
• Mountain Chickadee
• Dark-Eyed Junco
• Downy Woodpecker
• Ruby-Crowned Kinglet
• Brown Creeper
• House Finch
• American Goldfinch
• Mallard
• Spotted Towhee
• Common Goldeneye
• American Coot
• Great Blue Heron
• Pied-Billed Grebe
• American Kestrel
• Bald Eagle

What a wonderful turnout, despite no new lifers. I had particularly good views of many of the songbirds, including the brown creeper and ruby-crowned kinglet, and the bald eagle was a juvenile roosting in the same trees where we saw two adults earlier in the week. This is deservedly one of my favorite birding spots, and each time I visit I'm always hopeful for even more avian friends. With a bit of birding luck, the new year will bring even more species along this and my other favorite birding walks.

To all of you, best wishes for a very happy, very birdy new year.

Mixing It Up With a Lifer

Patience certainly pays off with birding, and no matter how many times you visit the same area, you never know if you'll spot something new. I couldn't tell you how often I've birded the section of the Provo River Trail from the lakeside trailhead to the first loop, but this past weekend, during my most recent visit, I added a new lifer to my list: the white-breasted nuthatch. These aren't very rare birds here, though they've eluded me (and continue to elude my camera), but I had the privilege of superb views of at least three different birds foraging in the loop area of that trail section.

They weren't the only birds I spotted at that moment, however. In winter, many birds form mixed flocks, and the trio of white-breasted nuthatches was joined by a number of black-capped chickadees, two brown creepers, and one ruby-crowned kinglet. It was a rare pleasure to observe the species in such close proximity and to have the opportunity to see their vastly different personalities.

• The black-capped chickadees were highest in the trees, flitting rapidly but staying along branches near the upper third of the winter-denuded canopy.
• The brown creepers preferred to stay low on the trunks of trees, working their way up as they hunted for insects, but rarely getting further than halfway up the tree.
• The ruby-crowned kinglet stayed out of the largest trees altogether and instead foraged in nearby brushy areas at low and mid-range heights.
• The white-breasted nuthatches started three-quarters of the way up the trees and quickly worked their way down as they foraged, but only down to the last quarter of the tree, and not often to the base.

Though they forage together, each bird has a different niche to fill and different ways to go about it. Together they can all keep watch for predators or better potential food sources, but they rarely intrude on one another's personal space.

Too often birders get too taken with seeing a new bird - and I was thrilled at the chic colors and swift grace of the nuthatches - and fail to see the amazing behaviors of their more familiar species. I'm glad I had the chance to watch all these birds together and note both their similarities and their differences, and when I next go into the field I'll be watching all the birds I know a bit more closely to see their unique personalities in action.

Snipe Hunt

Okay, so the title is a misnomer - I wasn't actually looking for a snipe when I was birding this past weekend, but the Wilson's snipe near the Provo River trailhead was an astonishing surprise. I was watching a few chilly mallards and a pair of winter-plumaged pied-billed grebes when I saw a bit of movement on a sandbar island in the river. A quick check through the binoculars was all that was necessary to confirm the Wilson's snipe with its long, probing bill and distinctive striped upperparts.

This wasn't a new bird for my life list, but I haven't seen one in nearly two years. That first view was a close but quick encounter at the St. George Winter Bird Festival in January 2009, but because this bird is so beautifully marked, it was easy to identify even then. This past weekend, I was able to watch it for several minutes as it probed along the edges of the sandbar. I had very satisfying, close-range views, as the bird was only about 35 feet away. Given that an arm of the very frigid river separated us, the snipe was utterly unconcerned with my presence, and only flew off down the waterway after it had probed all areas of the sandbar that looked promising.

I'd initially gone birding hoping for a lifer, and while I didn't see anything new, who can be disappointed with such an unexpected surprise?

Reacquainting, and a Reward

Sunday morning, while the sun was still low and the air still cool, I headed out for my first bird walk in several months. My only intention was to refresh myself with one of my favorite walks - a loop from Canyon Glen Park east along the Provo River - and hopefully to see some of my favorite birds in the area, including American dippers, song sparrows and black-billed magpies. What I got was far more than I expected.

I did see my familiar birds, all enjoying their regular spots. I heard western scrub-jays calling vociferously and watched their family busily foraging at a fallen log. I pished at a young song sparrow and sparked its curiosity, and I shook my head at the energetic antics of the western wood-pewee that refused to sit still for good observations. I watched a family of young American dippers plunging in and out of the river, swimming and flying simultaneously. I even smiled at the upside down foraging of the athletic black-capped chickadees.

Just over halfway through my loop, I paused near a stand of brushy berry bushes. I'd seen a silhouette I didn't recognize, something between the size of a sparrow and a robin. The initial bird I'd spotted moved deeper into the brush and out of view, but another quickly popped up just to the left, and I was able to get a crystal clear view through my binoculars - and my jaw dropped.

A gray catbird. A lifer.

This area of Utah is on the extreme western edge of the gray catbird's summer range, and they're quite rare and unexpected here. I certainly wasn't expecting it, no more than I was expecting to get a new lifer on my first bird walk in so very long. Several of the birds were foraging in those bushes, and I got very clear views of the black cap, rusty undertail coverts, gray plumage, and black eye. I couldn't ask for better views, even if they were all too brief.

I went out on that bird walk to just refresh my memory of how much I enjoy being out in the field rather than in front of a screen, and instead of just refreshed, I ended up rejuvenated, energized, and ready for more. You never do know what you'll see whenever you visit a favorite birding spot, and I can't wait to go to another of my personal favorites this coming weekend.

Birds in Opposition

I found a new place for lovely birding today, along a section of the Provo River that is only infrequently familiar to birders, hikers, and other guests. While it is following along a section of an historic railroad track (one unused on Sundays), it is a lush riparian zone that is home to many birds. Along the way, I spotted American robins, song sparrows, American dippers, European starlings, at least two annoying varieties of swallows that wouldn't slow down nor fly straight enough for a positive identification, and a new bird on my life list - the absolutely lovely yellow warbler. If you haven't yet seen this bird, it's a must to find with its vibrant yellow plumage and lovely red streaking on the chest. Its bright color is coupled with an equally perky personality, as it too doesn't sit still for long periods and seems to enjoy flitting about just out of camera (and often binocular) range. Still, I managed to nab a passable shot of this beautiful songbird.

As we drove home - I'm so fortunate in that these lovely birding trails are not too distant - my husband spotted what he though was a falcon or hawk soaring nearby, and he pulled over to let me take a closer peek. While I do love raptors, I was even more thrilled that it was a bit larger than either a hawk or falcon -- it was a turkey vulture, and another new addition for me to positively identify. The ironic part, however, is that there really isn't any other bird that could be more diametrically opposed to the yellow warbler.

Whereas the yellow warbler is brightly adorned, the turkey vulture is a slaty gray and black. The yellow warbler is a tiny bird that measures just five inches in length, the turkey vulture is five times that size. The yellow warbler is an active, mobile bird that flits through bushes and trees, while the turkey vulture soars slowly at great heights and carefully scrutinizes the ground below.

It's a great pleasure to see such unique and beautiful birds whenever I manage to go for a birding walk. I'm especially excited for next weekend and the Great Salt Lake Bird Festival, but even if those field trips are not as adventurous, it's always grand to know that I have such a diversity of avian life near to home.

Do you love hummingbirds? It's Hummingbird Month at About.com;

sign up for my free newsletter today for tons of info on these tiny birds!

I'll Be Dipped

Another walk along the Provo River, another bird for the life list! This past weekend's walk was not too productive, and in fact I didn't spot a single bird until pausing on a bridge on the way back down the snow packed trail. While gazing out over the river, however, I noticed a small bird bobbing along near the rocks, and I was startled to see it dive into the river and pop up several feet away. Given the temperature of that mountain-fed water, I certainly wouldn't have gone for a dip.

Twenty minutes of observation later -- including trudging through the knee-deep snow to get closer to the bank -- I knew I'd added the American Dipper to my life list. This small bird is a solitary individual that flies low along rivers and waterways before alighting and examining the water. It can "fly" underwater, much like penguins, as it hunts for insects and other sustenance. When on rocks or riverbanks, it will "dip" up and down quickly as it watches the river. The stubby tail, round body, pale legs, and white eyelids are very easily identifiable, as is the distinctive behavior.

It always amazes me to discover new birds in old spaces. You never know when a new species will appear, whether it is in your backyard, along a favorite walk, or in a neighborhood park. As long as we stay observant, we will always be able to see the great avian diversity around us.

Singing for New Species

Yet another walk by the Provo River, and yet another bird to add to the life list. On Sunday, my husband and I enjoyed a two hour walk along the river, albeit in a more wooded area in the canyon, not near the lake shore. I am a fortunate birder in that I have a very patient husband, who didn't mind the twenty minutes I spent observing, photographing, and making notes on one small sparrow. That tiny bird is a song sparrow, and the most recent addition to my life list.

Song sparrows are relatively solitary birds, and this one was quite content to feed along the rocks in a narrow throat of the river. His long tail, facial markings, and quick two-footed hop to feed were very distinctive and also made him a joy to observe.

Far too often, birders fail to appreciate the diversity of birds in their own regions. We may all wish to see what to us seem like more exotic species from other geographical areas, but we are each privileged to share space with a wide variety of birds in our own backyards. Whether you define "backyard" as being anywhere close enough for a leisurely walk or just within the confines of your property, you can befriend many birds to share that space.

What are your favorite birding spaces? Vote in the January poll!

New Year, New Birds

Happy New Year to every bird, birder, and bird watcher; may this year be one filled with the joys of finding new species, nurturing backyard birds, and learning more than ever about these fascination creatures who share our skies, brush piles, barns, trees, bushes, and ultimately, our lives.

This morning, one of the coldest we've had this winter, was also a fine day for birding along the Provo River. I spotted two new species to add to my life list already in 2009: white crowned sparrows and common goldeneyes. The former are distinctive sparrows with bold white and dark streaks on their heads that seemed content to keep company with the dark eyed juncos. They flitted quickly from bushes to trees, staying maddeningly out of camera reach, but not out of close enough sight for proper identification.

The second official new bird is the common goldeneye, a water fowl found keeping company with the mallards and American coots that favor the section of the river I enjoy visiting. These winter guests have somewhat oblong heads, and the males have distinctive white bodies and a white oval in front of their yellow eyes. Easily identified, they're a welcome addition to my list.

A third contender, however, has given me grief -- it could be a spotted towhee, a relatively common resident in Utah, but its coloration is more suggestive of the eastern towhee, a much more rare guest. Unfortunately, my camera and the birds in question were not cooperative enough to result in a definitive photo, and I'll have to wait until I visit the river again to be sure of the birds' identities. But that is also just another excuse to enjoy a morning walk along the river among old friends. Also out in force today were the dark eyed juncos, downy woodpeckers, mallards, American coots, and black billed magpies. No wonder this is a magnificent birding spot; if there are any birders here in Utah -- or eager birders passing through on their own migrations -- I'd love to share it.

The Provo River is one of my favorite birding spots - what are yours? Share in the January poll!