little year

Today was another unbearably hot day. Perhaps not quite as hot as hell (I refer to, of course, the great state of Texas), but nasty, sticky, and windless. Scrubb and I decided to see if we could add any more warblers to our list, and we traveled to Beverly Shores in Indiana and Warren Dunes State Park in Michigan. Everyone else there was cooling off at the beach by the refreshing sixty-degree waters of lovely blue Lake Michigan, but no, we had to sweat to death in the nearby steamy woods and algae-covered swamps, by smelly, barely-moving sludgy brown rivers. We're birders, dammit, and we go where the birds are, or in our case, aren't. (They were probably hanging out at the lake, as any smart bird -- or human -- would.)

The only addition to the little year list turned out to be a sad little overheated CEDAR WAXWING, atop a dead, white tree, beak agape, and panting . . .

But we knew it was going to be hot, and so Scrubb, in his kindness, presented me with the official American Birding Association Polar Necktie. This is a wrap that's filled with some kind of crap that when placed in water, turns into a tapioca-like consistency and swells up. This special material, which is left unidentified, is supposed to have a cooling effect, pulling heat from the body. I'm not sure if I felt any heat leaving my body, but the tie definitely left a nice slime ring around my neck. Maybe it needed to be soaked more, but the whole thing just felt like a piece of vaguely cool, slimy sausage -- or perhaps it was more like having a pet tube worm from the ocean floor (a pet I wouldn't really like) nestled around my neck. Scrubb, who has just read some H.P Lovecraft horror stories, nicknamed my slimy friend Cthulhu, after Lovecraft's alien, tentacled, evil monster-god that lives under the sea. Well, I left Scrubb a little present in his car, too. He can deal with Mr. Slimy once he gets home. I wash my hands (and neck) of him.

posted by Pole at 11:31 PM | permalink | stuck under LIST

Watching for the MacGillivray's maybeBack to the Magic Hedge today to see if we could find the female MacGillivray's Warbler that's been reported there. It's a western bird, a rarity that would be very far from home. As soon as we arrived, we saw a group of about 10 people watching the hole on the north side of the hedge. That's where they'd been seeing the MacGillivray's. A few warblers were darting in and out of the bushes, and the first one we saw was a BLACK-AND-WHITE WARBLER.

Moments later someone pointed out the MACGILLIVRAY'S WARBLER -- or at least the purported MacGillivray's. The alpha birder there was Jim Landing, one of the top birders in Chicago. He shares the current lifetime record for the most birds seen in Illinois at 395. Jim told us there have been reported Illinois sightings of this warbler in the past, but none have been accepted. So this bird might be the first. The tricky thing is that the female MacGillivray's looks a lot like the mourning warbler. I won't go into all the diagnostic details, but since there's always variation even in a single species, there's inevitable overlap in two species that are so close.

The good news is that a lot of people saw this bird, and there are a lot of photos. It's not just an unrecorded look by a single birder or two. Jim said the final decision is with a committee of the Illinois Audubon Society. They'll look at all the photos and come up with a decision in a month or two.

My guess is that they'll decide it's a mourning. Committees like this tend to be very conservation (which is good), and with a bird so far out of its range, it's much more likely to be a mourning than a MacGillivray's. So we're not counting it until we hear the committee's decision. The MacGillivray's would have been Little Year bird number 254, and let's hope I get to stick it in that slot in a month or two.

Anyway, we saw two more warblers while there: and OVENBIRD (temporarily, I hope, at number 254) and a female BAY-BREASTED WARBLER. This second bird was a tough call, but Jim helped us out, so I'm satisfied and don't need no stinking committee.

posted by Scrubb at 08:52 PM | permalink | stuck under LIST + challenges + lifers

Pole in GalienWe left Gaylord this morning and decided to visit Michigan's Dunes area, which is off the lake and close to Chicago. Driving south on Route 196, Pole spotted a MUTE SWAN on her side of the car. No luck for me. It was a four-lane highway, and I was going about 80, so pulling over wasn't an option. Our first regular stop was Warren Dunes State Park where we walked the Yellow Birch Trail. Beautiful and lush, but no new birds. Next it was Warren Woods State Park. Beautiful and lush, but no new birds. Last stop was the Galien River Floodplain, which isn't an actual park, but merely a place to park your car and walk around. Beautiful and lush, and two new birds: a RUBY-THROATED HUMMINGBIRD and an AMERICAN REDSTART. Only Pole saw the hummer; all I saw was a small smudge that shot into the woods. Thus ended our Michigan trip, and to our surprise, we were back in Chicago in about an hour. These sites were new to us, and it's good to know there are such fine places -- beautiful and lush -- so close to home.

posted by Scrubb at 09:58 PM | permalink | stuck under LIST

Soft focus makes the Kirtland's sexyAfter a long drive north, we made it to Gaylord, Michigan this morning at 1 am. We came to see the endangered Kirtland's Warbler, one of the rarest birds in the States. It only breeds in a small area in northern Michigan, so if you want to see it, this is where you come. You can only view its breeding grounds on official tours run by rangers, and we met ours this morning at 11 am at a hotel in Grayling, a little south of Gaylord. We had two guides, the master (Chris) and the apprentice (Sean). The viewing season started today, so Sean was just learning the ropes. There was just one other birder on the tour, so we made a three-car convoy to the site.

Once we got there, we piled out of our cars and started the trek into the fields. The Kirtland's nests only in jack pines, and young ones at that. So basically, you're walking through cultivated fields of young pines (6 to 16 feet high), watching and listening for the bird. We heard them frequently as we walked, but seeing them was another story. But after about an hour of searching, we saw the KIRTLAND'S WARBLER -- or at least I did. Pole missed this one, but a few minutes later, another -- or the same -- bird showed up. It appeared on the other side of the two track, and, with three scopes between us, we all got a good look at it. I also got the photo above, which, if muddy, is good enough for an ID.

Parasitizing can turn around to bite you in the assSeeing the bird broke things up, so we headed back to the cars. On the way back, Chris gave us a look at one of their cowbird traps. The Kirtland's is not only picky about where it nests, it also has its nests parasitized by brown-headed cowbirds. The cowbirds aren't native parasites, so the Kirtland's, in all their warbly innocence, raise the insatiable cowbird chicks at the expense of their own yolk and white. These traps help restore the balance. The wardens put banded cowbirds in large mesh boxes, and other cowbirds join them by dropping down a narrow tunnel. And, like some feathered lobsters, they usually can't find their way out. Every couple of days, one of the naturalists steps inside the cage and asphyxiates the newcomers with a thumb gently pressed to the old windpipe. Problem solved. Good thing the cowbirds don't understand what's going on, or there'd be some ugly fights over those legbands.

You'll never see a nicer Kirtland's Warbler monumentOn our way back, Sean pointed out a CLAY-COLORED SPARROW. He also found a VESPER SPARROW for Pole. I must have been somewhere else, because I didn't even know about it until we were in the car. Sean is a 19-year-old birding whiz who's on the payroll of the Audubon Society. Sometimes Audubon gives money to the program; this year they gave staff. Chris wasn't a birder, but he was a good naturalist and the one who found the warbler. He recommended that we next visit Tawas Point State Park, which is due east on Lake Huron. He also recommended that we check out the Kirtland's Warbler monument in nearby Mio. We did, and it was pretty tacky, a big plastic thing encased in a glass shrine. Though it looks like something from a miniature golf course, apparently it was dedicated by Roger Tory Peterson himself.

Cuter than a sparrowThe drive to Tawas Point was refreshing, because northern Michigan is in the North Woods, which is our favorite place. Tawas was nice, too: hardly any people and small enough that we were able to walk the whole park. Unfortunately, migration hadn't seemed to hit yet. We saw lots of birds, but the only new ones were a BOBOLINK and a SAVANNAH SPARROW. An amazing sight was a flock of about 50 blue jays. We'd never seen so many together, and I didn't even know they did that. Best sight of all, though, was a pair of fox kits relaxing outside their den. Mom and Dad were absent, and our presence didn't seem to bother the little guys too much. I hope they learn to be a little more careful.

Good day. An endangered bird, a goofy monument, and some baby foxes.

posted by Scrubb at 11:56 PM | permalink | stuck under LIST + challenges + lbjs + lifers + other animals

Pole in Pelee, seeing no lifersToday commemorates the First Little Year International Birding Expedition. We went to Point Pelee, Ontario, which is about an hour south of Detroit. We plan on going to northern Michigan tomorrow to see the rare Kirtland's Warbler, so this trip is truly global in scope. We left yesterday and stayed overnight in Motown at my sister's house. Even though we left Chicago kind of late, we couldn't resist stopping at the Indiana Dunes. We drove around for about an hour, and all we got out of it was a CHIPPING SPARROW.

It was raining on and off as we drove to Pelee. It's a spit of land that points south into Lake Erie and is reputed to be one of the best migrant traps on the continent. So we were pretty excited. It was crowded when we got there, and we saw dozens of crazy-looking people with dopey Tilley hats, expensive bins, and repulsive birding vests bulging with God-knows-what useless crap. We, on the other hand, travel pretty light. Or at least Pole does. Because of some vestigial sexism in her chromosomes, I have to carry the scope, the field guide, the notes, and the camera. Not a lot, really, but still more than nothing, which is what she carries. Today, though, I didn't carry the scope because we were looking for warblers.

The first one we saw was the YELLOW WARBLER, and good reason why because they were over the place. We also saw:

WHITE-CROWNED SPARROW
LINCOLN'S SPARROW
VEERY
RED-EYED VIREO
BLACK-THROATED GREEN WARBLER
BLACKBURNIAN WARBLER
GRAY CATBIRD

The Lincoln's and the Vireo were both lifers for me, but not for Pole. This kind of ticked her off, because she expected lifers, especially at a place like this. After a while, she says to me, "I've made a decision. If I don't see a lifer in the next 15 minutes, we're getting a guided tour." The next 15 minutes were liferless, so we paid for the tour. (Far be it from me to get in the way of a frigging "decision.")

Our guide was a woman named Mary Ann. She seemed very young, and that, along with the dopey speech she has to give at the start of the tour, didn't make us hopeful. But once we got in the woods, she really knew her shit. She had all the calls down pat, and when she heard one, she was usually able to track down the source. With her as our guide we spotted the following:

MAGNOLIA WARBLER
CANADA WARBLER
MOURNING WARBLER
WILSON'S WARBLER
NORTHERN WATERTHRUSH
CHESTNUT-SIDED WARBLER
BLUE-GRAY GNATCATCHER

Not a bad haul. I have to say, the Chestnut-sided is one of the best-named birds there is. You just can't miss that wonderful chestnuttiness. And right on its side, too! None of these birds were lifers, either, but Pole was content. The only other people on the tour were a married couple, and so Pole, as the best birder of us four, was teacher's pet. Once, as Mary Ann scoured the trees, she asked her, "See anything fancy?" That just cracked teacher up. By the end of the tour, Mary Ann said, like a real Canadian, "We saw a lot of birds, eh?"

We then broke for dinner, going to a nice Lebanese place called Freddie's that Mary Ann recommended. (She could do no wrong at this point.) The tour was a good idea. We had never paid for one before, but we probably will again in the future. If you're led by someone with talent, it's worth it. By the time we finished dinner, it had started raining in earnest, so -- even though we went back into the park -- there was nothing going on. So back to the States.

Going through U.S. customs was an experience. There were a long lines, and ours turned out to be the slowest. When we pulled up to the booth, there was this customs guy with a shaved head leaning back in his chair with his arms folded across his chest. He didn't say "Hello," or "Welcome to the United States," or anything the least bit civilized. Instead, it was this:

Customs Asshole: Nationality.
Scrubb: U.S.
Customs Asshole: Why were you in Canada?
Scrubb: We went birding at Point Pelee.
Customs Asshole: (Makes no comment, but gestures fellow citizens in with dismissive, disgusted wave. Simultaneously furrows apelike, loser brow.)

What a shmuck. A little knowledge may be a dangerous thing, but so is a little power. This guy is babysitting the safest border on earth, and he thinks he's hot shit. The Canada custom official, on the other hand, was courteous and efficient. We love Canada.

posted by Scrubb at 10:53 PM | permalink | stuck under LIST + challenges + lbjs + lifers