Rosyfinch Ramblings: patch

Sunday, December 15, 2013

The helpful monotony of patch birding

Birding is an exercise in statistics. Finding a certain bird depends upon the probability that the birder's path will intersect with that of the bird at a given moment in time. For more common birds, this probability is high because we are not looking for a single bird, but rather one that represents the species. A knowledge of birds' habits and habitats greatly increases the chance of a successful quest; the bank robber selects banks because "that's where the money is."

Very few other birders visit our favorite birding patch, mostly because it is only accessible via private or posted land. Trails in the patch itself are open but there are restrictions against use of motorized vehicles, overnight camping and open fires. There are no Internet bulletins alerting us to unusual finds. Although we have seen some birds that are uncommon, we have reported only one or two truly unusual species from this location.

We walk the same old local patch, morning after morning. Often we are there before the sun rises and may walk and watch for two or more hours. We see the same old resident birds, and the same old migrants visit or stay for the winter. Our expectations are not high. If we set out to see a specific less common species, more than likely we will fail in our quest.

Yet we are open to discovery. We notice the incremental changes-- the rise and ebb of water levels in the wetlands, the flowering and the fruiting, destruction and sometimes restoration. We have grown accustomed to all the snags and rocks and shadows that look like distant birds and mammals, and we notice the new garbage bag or the out-of-place shadow that may be a fox, or a Bobcat. We are always alert for non-avian subjects.

During the past seven years of walking this patch nearly every morning we have found 135 species of birds, recorded since 2009 in our eBird List of Species, West Miramar Water Conservation Area. Most of these we documented among over 5700 photographs on FLICKR for this site alone.

Interestingly, some of these we have seen only once or twice. Despite our regular observations of this area, we have been there only a tiny fraction of all the daylight (and none of the nighttime) hours over the past nine years since first setting foot there. Statistically, our records are insignificant. How many birds have we missed just by minutes or days or years?

On a still morning the slight rustling in a shrub, easy to overlook, revealed the first Orange-crowned Warbler we ever saw in the patch, though once we learned where to look for them we have seen several more.

The stirring of a single blade of grass invited us to find our first Rough Green Snake, wet from the morning dew. It responded to my approach by retreating across a sandy patch and rearing up towards me like a tiny cobra.

A flash of yellow color in the brush disappeared as suddenly as it appeared, and a lucky photo documented our first and only Yellow-breased Chat. Uncommon but not rare, our patch must have been visited by many more chats besides this one so fortuitously sighted.

A shy and retiring Black-whiskered Vireo showed itself during only one of our hundreds of visits to this particular thicket. How many times had it been there when I was otherwise occupied?

A dull-plumaged Bell's Vireo presented an identification challenge. We have seen it only twice, in October of 2009 and 2012.

Short-tailed Hawks flew over only twice. This is the more common dark morph, seen this past October. I wonder how many I missed by not scrutinizing the vulture flocks which help disguise them from their usual prey of small birds.

This dissimilar light morph was the first Short-tailed Hawk on my life list of species first seen (and photographed).

A few more spectacular birds have shown up on only one occasion. They include a small flock of Roseate Spoonbills that appeared in late November, 2012 and stayed for three weeks.

Remarkably, the spoonbills were joined by our first and only flock of White Pelicans, a species that also lingered for several days. Neither species has reappeared since.

Reddish Egrets are rarely seen away from the coastal brackish waters, yet a single immature bird visited us,18 miles inland, and lingered for over a month. As is typical, it pranced about erratically in search of prey.

The highlights among rare visitors were two Whooping Cranes, the first ever reported this far south in Florida. They were captive-reared in Wisconsin and released to migrate on their own. One injured its foot and had to be treated and rehabilitated and was released in Tennessee. The other lacked survival skills and was relocated to a ranch in central Florida. Sadly, both perished during the winter.

If this video does not display, please visit this link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FeKMkfJOlco&featu

Saturday, January 12, 2013

Snipe hunt

I must admit that during the winter I'm always looking for snipe in our local South Florida birding patch. Up until now I had only gotten fleeting glimpses of single birds, usually flying away from almost underfoot at breakneck speed. Taken from a distance in poor light, this photo shows the characteristic shape and bold vertical markings on the sides of the breast of a Wilson's Snipe.

I came to believe that there is no such creature as a snipe that sits in one place and poses for the camera. So frustrating. Was I being victimized?

As a Boy Scout tenderfoot, I learned the hard way about "snipe hunts."

Urban Dictionary: "You've never heard of snipe hunting? Dude we should go this weekend."

A North American prank and rite of passage wherein older adolescents take younger boys into the wilderness for the supposed purpose of “snipe hunting.” Snipes are an imaginary game bird purported to resemble quails or pheasants or what have you (the fictional snipe is not to be confused with the extant North American shorebird of that same name). Snipe hunts take place on moonless nights; the victims are provided burlap bags with which to catch the birds, while the conspirators spot them with flashlights. The conspirators make birdcalls, through rocks in the bushes, and urgently cry out “snipe” to make the victims believe that there are actually birds in the area. The victims don’t want to be the only one who can’t see the imaginary birds, so they claim to have seen them also. Pretty soon the victims have convinced each other they are surrounded by snipes and proceed to run about foolishly in search of the non-existent birds.

A recent encounter resulted in my first photo of one on the ground in our patch. I had flushed it while walking out on a small peninsula. It flew some 50 yards to an area of shoreline that was rimmed by high grasses. There had been no time for a photo, and I scanned with binoculars but could not find the bird. I took a single photo of the area where it landed, just to remember the experience. Back home I displayed it on the computer screen.

"Where's Waldo?"

Look closely at the enlarged image, and note how its cryptic plumage blends with the background.

Not a very satisfying record, but I added it to my collection of bird species photgraphed on my patch. This past week my luck changed. My "burlap bag" is now full and brimming!

One morning last week Mary Lou and I set out into our local wetlands patch about 15 minutes before sunrise. It was overcast at first, and darker than usual. As we passed along the lake, I caught movement at the near shore. The silouhette of a bird contrasted with the soft glare of the water's surface.

Despite having the ISO cranked up to 3200, I obtained only a grainy image of the bird's head, but its markings confirmed that it was a snipe! While Mary Lou continued her "power walk" another mile into the wetlands area, I remained at the spot, waiting for better light. On her way back she stopped for a while, but the bird had hardly moved and was hidden in the vegetation.

Finally my patience was rewarded. After almost an hour of getting only tantalizing shadows, a snipe walked out into the open, acting as if I were not even there!