Mallard in tranquil setting |
Mourning Dove posing for a second |
Your grandest ambition is to spot a few colorful birds, bring them up close and personal in your fancy new Trailblazer binoculars. Just to see what – you mean who – you can see. That alone is motivation enough to unplug and hoof on over to the local city park or, more ambitiously, ride your bike up to the birding wonderland of the Berkeley Hills.
Masked Lapwings (Tracy Aviary, Salt Lake City, my photo) |
To be occasionally rewarded
with a First Sighting!
You hope, wish and pray!
A First Sighting is espying an unequivocally identified genus and verifiably named species of a wild bird you've not ever espied before. You may not know the ornithological details and particulars until you confirm things back home in your favorite birding book or, if available on the spot and you have connectivity, your mobile birding app.
Elusive but oh-so-common (?) Catbird |
But who would ever become excited about sighting a wild bird – or anything wild and natural – for the first time?
Rufous Hummingbird in repose |
Well, a naturalist would.
A birder would.
Juvenile Black-headed Grosbeak |
But who among you actually watches – that is to say, pays attention! – to our friends, the Feathered Flitterati otherwise known as birds?
Caspian Terns flying about at Abbotts Lagoon, Point Reyes |
Okay, some of you might; but still, even if you don't care a whit, you have to admit that this business of first sightings is truly exciting, so stick with me.
Sweet little peepin' Song Sparrow looks like |
But which bird?
Duck doing Duck things |
From whence did the delicate creature manifest into this realm?
Mother Goose and her Goslings |
What is it doing?
Western Tanager high up (the best I could do) |
From a human’s limited perspective, it is, after all, just a little old bird, an insignificant, barely noticed, hardly appreciated little creature. (You hope it's a whole lot more than that!) Merely a flighty little fellow so adept at camouflage and aerial legerdemain that heretofore the little cuss has remained unseen and completely off your radar.
Gorgeous Sharp-shinned Hawk in 108-year old Oak |
So when you begin to get interested in knowing who’s who in the Pantheon of Birds, what’s what in the Parlance of Avian Beings, seeing a particular bird for a first time incites a sort of fervid glee, an ineffably marvelous sense that the world abounds in mysteries you never dreamed of.
Poult on the move |
You want to shout it to the world – and you can, thanks to “YouTwitFace” – letting everyone know instantly about your uber-cool First Sighting of, say, an elusive Golden-crowned Kinglet or Black and White Warbler.
Brown Pelican chillin' at the Bulb |
But does anyone really give a bird turd?
Well, a naturalist does.
A birder does.
Brilliant Finch on wire |
"Headless" Band-tailed Pigeon |
Because you’re in the right place at the right time, and because you’re paying attention – voilĂ ! – your reward is a first sighting of, say, a wonderful little Vireo, Wren or Warbler. Or Woodpecker, Flycatcher or Hummingbird. Or Nuthatch, Swallow or Shrike. (You wish.)
Lately, you’ve been fortunate to catalog a number of First Sightings to augment your Life List – which is, after all, little more than an unattainable compendium of verified sightings of every single bird species on Earth. Not to mention, the “rules” for qualifying a First Sighting are stringent: no double ticking on gender differences, color morph variations, or subspecies. (Say what?)
White Dove spotted in neighborhood |
It gets even more complicated, but you always certainly know when you’ve spotted a bird for the first time – there is no feeling quite like the elation that overcomes you with the knowledge that the world just got a bit more interesting by the bird’s real, palpable presence in your consciousness.
Northern Mockingbird fiercely defending |
Must be a Finch of some kind |
The very best most fanatic birders in the US and Canada (an elite few) have fallen short by 150. In my lifetime, I’d be lucky to spot 200 or so; I’d say I’m at about 100 now. But my list, currently being compiled in a somewhat organized, scientific fashion in an Excel spreadsheet, is growing by the month.
Cormorant about to dive or catch a fish |
Depending on breeding, migratory, and other habits, preferences, vagaries and vicissitudes, hundreds of different species come and go, pass through, do their brief thing, and then are gone. The window to spot some real gems and up your Life List count with a bounty of fly-by-night exotics, is tight and closes quickly.
Lesser Goldfinch inspecting something |
In the Berkeley Hills alone, in the extensive Monterey Pine groves off Inspiration Point, how many Band-tailed Pigeons, Great Horned and Northern Saw-whet Owls, Olive-sided Flycatchers, Violet-green Swallows, Pygmy Nuthatches, Swainson’s Thrushes, Orange-crowned and MacGillivray’s Warblers, Western Tanagers, Red Crossbill and Evening Grosbeaks have I missed!?
Great Blue Heron contemplating next move |
Every single one of them,
that's how many!
Yellow-rumped Warbler sweetie |
Making up for lost time, in the past few months, my Life List has expanded to include a number of what are referred to as Code 1 species – relatively common and easy to sight, which makes it all the more remarkable that they continue to remain so elusive:
Spotted in the Tilden / Berkeley Hills, in thick brush near the famous lone Monterey Pine that stands sentinel below Wildcat Peak and can be seen from the bridge coming across from San Francisco.
Rare capture (for me) of what I believe is a Winter Wren |
HERMIT WARBLER
Spotted last week, up in the Tilden / Berkeley Hills, at about 700 ft. in a favorite place with long distance views of Mount Diablo on one side and Mount Tamalpais and the San Francisco skyline and bay on the other. This elusive bird was feeding and playing in the high tree branches, and I was lucky to even get a look and snap this photo for documentation and later identification.
CEDAR WAXWING
Spotted a pair of the distinctive birds in a red berry tree in my neighbor’s yard – exotic-looking with a pretty wavy crest and red wing patch. Of all my first sightings, this one was most surprising, for surely I would have seen one at some point in my life, even my pre-ornithological interests.
A very exotic looking guy.
Cedar Waxwings gorging on red berries |
BEWICK'S WREN
In Codornices Park, a multi-tiered waterfall flows through a beautiful Redwood Canyon. I spotted Ms. Bewick hopping about in thick ground cover brush, occasionally pausing long enough between skittering antics to get a bead on the face and signature white stripes above each eye.
A very cute little sucker.
A very interesting first sighting near a parking lot at the Botanical Gardens off South Park Road in the Berkeley Hills. A group was photographing and observing, so I stopped my bike and asked what the big deal was – a pair of showy Thrushes staking their claim in a small preserved patch of woodland at an intersection of two roads and a golf course.
Pretty little things, they’ve moved on by now.
Varied Thrush in full view of my lens for just long enough |
WHITE-CROWNED SPARROW
November 4, spotted in high coastal hills above Muir Beach, Marin County. Amazing to have never seen this little guy before in my life. Or maybe I have always seen this bird, but never was truly paying attention,
which helps to explain their invisibility.
I first spotted this elusive bird at Sibley Volcanic Regional Preserve one day while exploring a back stretch beyond the gigantic pit where I'd never deigned to venture before; after all, what could possibly be back there?
Mount Diablo dominates far East Bay landscape |
Oh, just magnificent views of Mount Diablo's sprawling massif – and a rare sighting of a playful Black-throated Gray Warbler. I saw another one years later in Cragmont Park in Berkeley. A rarity to come upon in my experience.
Black-throated Gray Warbler |
AMERICAN BITTERN
I spotted my first Bittern at Big Break Regional Shoreline,
then a few years later at Brazos Bend,
a nature preserve near Houston, Texas,
where I also saw tons of shorebirds and lounging alligators.
American Bittern, secretive and masterful hunter |
WHITE IBIS
A magnificent bird with a large curved beak she uses
to dig up crayfish and other critters in marshes and bogs.
Never saw one of these until I visited Brazos Bend State Park.
TOWNSEND'S SOLITAIRE
If I ever saw one in the Bay Area, I hadn't a clue. It wasn't until a visit to Santa Fe, New Mexico that three of them flew down to a creek for a drink that I was able to photograph and video them, and only then, later, was I able to get a positive ID on them.
Townsend's Solitaire couple enjoying a drink and bird bath |
And so, the story never ends of First Sightings and an ever-expanding Life List. May I always be fortunate to encounter and meet new friends along life's back stretches, city parks, or wherever the Feathered Flitterati may find themselves in my company – or vice versa.
Enjoy these related posts from berkeleybackyardbirdblog
and see what all the hoopla's about upon notching a First Sighting:
Eared Grebes floating in the golden light on Los Vaqueros Reservoir |
I'm not a birder, but I almost became one when I spent a week or so in the Pantanel in Brazil - ground zero for some serious bird watching.
ReplyDeleteI may not be a birder, but I love feathers. I got so many lovely feathers while I was there - pink spoonbills, blue macaos, black and white guinea hens, and booty from the amazing tuiwiwi, perhaps the largest stork in the world.
I love how Tom always reminds us, though, that every single bird is special, be it the commonest sparrow.
Fun read, Tom! I'm not a bird watcher but your poetic musings make me stop and take a closer look at these marvelous creatures.
ReplyDeleteExcellent blog, Tom! I'm not a bird watcher but your poetic musings make me pay closer attention. At the Richmond Marina, Erik and I see a dinosaur like bird species with a long thin bill. About a week ago, we saw a seal. It was swimming away from us and turned to look directly at me! I think she was trying to give me a telepathic message. Too bad I have no clue as to what that message might be.
ReplyDeleteJust amazing the numbers you call out - so many birds, so many different kinds. I like the little white plump dude - the nuthatch? they're all so different and yet we walk thru this world so unaware, taking them for nature's muzak. except for you and other birders, tuned into their singsong and peculiar flitter-flutter!
ReplyDeletelove from your little hummingbird...