Everything's Bigger in Texas

I spent a week earlier this month as a guest of the McAllen Convention and Visitors' Bureau in south Texas, visiting more than a dozen local birding hotspots to review them. I knew the birding life was different so far from Utah, but within just a day or two, I was overwhelmed. Each day brought new lifers, new habitats, and new features to explore in a wide range of stunning locations. It is going to take me some time to sort out all that I gleaned from the trip, but one thing is certain: with more than 130 birds seen (this despite early afternoon finishes, no night birding, time spent taking notes rather than dedicated birding, and a lack of visits to the western, drier region and its unique birds) and an amazing 66 lifers, there is no denying that everything is bigger in Texas!

Some random highlights from the trip...

• Outstanding views of many south Texas specialty birds, including plain chachalacas, green jays, and buff-bellied hummingbirds.
• My first exposure to real Mexican food, igniting a passion for refried beans, guacamole, and chorizo that I'm going to find it hard to quench at home.
• Learning  to go birding in jeans even in high heat and humidity, given the scores of mosquitoes that take advantage of any bare skin.
• Meeting a wide range of outstanding people, all of whom love birding in some way and help to bring it to their individual communities.
• Seeing the Rio Grande River and walking through the infamous border fence (not that it was all that hard to do, given the huge gap right in the road).

Of course, now I have my work cut out for me to complete each review (which I'm happy to do), along with several other articles on local birding books, tips for birding in the region, and other information that will be helpful to anyone planning to go birding in the Rio Grande Valley. Stay tuned!

Forgotten Lifer

Earlier this month my husband and I returned to the sea, enjoying a getaway cruise to Mexico and Cabo San Lucas - our first sailing in several years as family obligations, school schedules, and work schedules never quite coincided in the meantime. What I'd hoped would coincide on the trip was an opportunity for birding, and I wasn't disappointed.

On one of our days in Cabo San Lucas, we toured to San Jose del Cabo, including a stop at one of the city's missions. As any birder knows, urban birding is never as prolific as scouting wild areas, but anywhere there are trees and shelter there is the possibility of feathered sightings. And sight I did - as we approached the mission and listened to the background provided by our guide, a small dove - nothing so much as a hyperactive, miniature mourning dove - foraged nearby. As I watched, its perky steps brought it closer, and after we were allowed to explore the mission on our own, I stepped toward it in return. It let me approach quite closely, then fluttered off several yards away to resume its industrious scrounging. In that brief flight I was still able to observe the rusty color beneath its wings, and I'd already noted the red-and-black bill, spotted wings, and scaly pattern over the head and breast. A quick consult to my field guide led to the conclusive identification: a common ground-dove.

Not a bird I ever see in Utah, of course, and at first I was thrilled to have added an unlikely lifer to my list - despite frequent cruises in the past, I've never excelled at birding on the sea, and sighting a bird on land was my only hope for a lifer on this trip. Yet after reviewing my records at home, I realized that I had seen this bird before, and based on the notes I made, it must have been during my press trip to Jamaica. It must have only been a fleeting view, however, to have not made as strong an impression on me, but I'll never forget the excitement of seeing this dove in Mexico.

Even a forgotten lifer can be amazing when it is rediscovered, common or not.

Oh, Deer

In late winter, as natural food supplies dwindle and spring migrants have not quite arrived, backyard birding can be quite sparse. Oh, I always have the company of my house finches and house sparrows, as well as the mourning doves and Eurasian collared-doves, but more colorful visitors are few and far between. One morning, however, I discovered that I'd had a visitor of a non-feathered variety when I found some friendly droppings scattered on the lawn, in four different places.

We have deer in our neighborhood, though we've not seen them so close to our house - they typically stay down in the river bottoms (our neighborhood is on a precipice above) and further away from active areas, though our exact location can be quite quiet and peaceful. After finding their "gift" I checked my feeders, but they showed no damage or disturbance - fortunately, for deer will pry at feeders to access seed and have been known to empty feeders quickly if they become used to the easy snack.

I haven't seen more evidence of the deer since, with the exception of discovering a few more leavings in our front yard - though they may have been there all along. I don't mind their visits, and I hope they return at a time when I might actually see them. They aren't new on the life list, but a new guest on the yard list nonetheless!

Spotting a Towhee

Ground cover is vitally important to backyard birds, more so than many birders realize. At the old house, the only cover I was able to have was a brush pile in the backyard and some widely spaced mugo in the front yard; not nearly enough to make ground-feeding birds feel secure. As a result, I rarely had any ground-feeding birds make appearances.

This house is a different story entirely. The landscaping is mature, including plenty of low shrubs and ground cover - too mature, in some places, which is a problem I plan to work on this spring and summer. In the meantime, however, the birds enjoy it, and I enjoy their company. One such visitor a few weeks ago was a spotted towhee, a large, colorful sparrow that had discovered the cache of sunflower hearts I toss outside my office window periodically - right underneath a low bush that provides a safe, sheltered feeding spot. While the bird didn't stay for long, its hopping, scratching behavior was clearly evident in the disturbed soil, and the brief glimpse I caught showed off its red eye, rusty flanks, and striking plumage.

Other birds have taken advantage of the cover as well - dark-eyed juncos were frequent guests throughout the winter (and only migrated away in the last few days), and the house sparrows are year-round visitors, as are the California quail, though recently they've dispersed for nesting. I can hardly wait to see what birds might be spotted next - whether they have spots on their plumage or not.

Worst Photo, Best Sighting

Sometimes the worst photo you take can be one of the best birds you see. On our trip to Las Vegas a few weeks ago, the last place I expected any good birding was from the window of our 23rd floor room at The Mirage. Yet one afternoon, after a busy morning out in wilder spaces, my husband asked me what bird was outside the window - anticipating one of the ever-present grackles, I took an indulgent look, but was startled to see not a blackbird, but a raptor.

On the sign across from our volcano-view room, two raptors were calmly watching the street scene below. Through a dirty window and from that distance, I couldn't get a clear view, but the thick malar stripes, dark upperparts, and barred underparts made identification almost too easy - peregrine falcons. On close inspection, the "bloomer" leg feathers and hooked bill were also noticeable, and when one of the birds launched into flight, the sharply pointed wings were one final clue.

These raptors are one of the most successful stories of urban nesting in the world. Natural cliff dwellers, they have adapted well to the urban cliffs of skyscrapers, and the ready availability of pigeons, rats, and other urban wildlife make for easy hunting. Truth be told, I've never had an easier sighting of one of these marvelous raptors than from the air-conditioned comfort of a hotel room!

Superb Owl

It's taking me awhile to get through photos and write about my birding experiences, which have both been many recently. And while I'm not a football fan, I can certainly say that I enjoyed Super Bowl Sunday last month - though for me, Superb Owl Sunday is more correct.

On a tip from a local listserv, I had learned of a northern pygmy-owl not that far from my home, just up Provo Canyon at South Fork, through Vivian Park. I'd never been there before and was unfamiliar with the birding conditions it might present, but since our winter has been mild, I thought to give it a chance while much of the rest of the population was roosting indoors to watch the game. A lifer would be well worth any effort.

I found the parking area without difficulty, and immediately I loved the isolation of the habitat - nestled in the mountains but not mountainous itself, it was strikingly beautiful even on a barren winter day. I spent the better part of an hour hiking from the parking area further east along the road, checking the spots where the owl had been recently reported and looking for whatever other birds I might see. A Steller's jay gave me an earful for coming too close to his tree, and a flock of wild turkeys was less than impressed at my presence, but for the distance I went, I was owl-less.

Getting back to the parking lot, however, a pair of birders who had passed me driving (and stopped to ask if I'd found the owl) waved at me to hurry when I was a hundred yards away, and to my dismay, surprise, and delight, the owl was just west of the parking area - literally perhaps 15 yards west, if that. He was perched dutifully in a branch, unafraid of our presence because he was over the river and well aware that we could not approach any closer. For a full quarter of an hour or more I was able to observe him - the long tail, the clear patterns of his plumage, his piercing yellow eyes. I've had the privilege to see other wild owls before, but never so closely or so clearly.

A super day indeed, and a winning one.

At Least a Lifer

On our trip to Las Vegas last month - a getaway we typically take in winter - I was able to get in some good birding, including discovering a new park to explore. At one of my favorite hotspots - the Henderson Bird Viewing Preserve - I hit a jackpot of lifers, including one that seemed least of all but turned out to be a great sighting, a least sandpiper.

A short boardwalk at the preserve leads out into a shallow pond, and along the muddy shore a single peep was busy peeping his way through every crevice and cranny, searching for the next tidbit. I was able to get quite close to the bird, which was fortunate, for it was tiny! That alone is a good field mark for this species; the least sandpiper is the smallest shorebird in North America. The buff feathers with dark cores, the bright yellow legs, and the dark, slightly decurved bill were all additional clues, and a new lifer was added to my list.

It wasn't the only bird I saw for the first time on this trip; the black-tailed gnatcatcher and orange-crowned warbler also joined my life list in Vegas, and also at the Henderson Bird Viewing Preserve - what a winning streak of birding! I'm always amazed at the incredible diversity of birds in Las Vegas, and I have never yet failed to get a lifer when visiting that fabulous city. I can't wait to go back!

Sock-Tastic

A feeding flock of finches is a joy to watch, and I've had much of that joy in recent weeks. I have a nylon mesh sock filled with Nyjer, and while it took a couple of weeks for the birds to discover it, they have done so - with a vengeance. At first is was just a lonely lesser goldfinch or two, but their compatriots quickly joined in. Fast on their tail feathers were the American goldfinches, and shortly thereafter, the pine siskins. Now I have a hearty flock feeding daily, but fortunately, the bin of Nyjer is a generous size and there's plenty for all.

If you want to feed Nyjer to your backyard birds, I strongly recommend a heavyweight sock specially designed to hold these tiny seeds. It may look simple, but a less expensive sock will quickly be shredded under the birds' talons, and a stronger sock not only withstands more abuse, but holds more seed as well. I also have a mesh hoop beneath my feeder to catch spilled seed, and more birds are able to feed there as well - I've had up to 15 or more birds feeding at once, with room for more to join in. I hope more will visit; I've missed these birds in recent months as they've been absent from the new yard, and I'm grateful they're absent no longer.

May you have similar sock-tastic joy in your backyard!