Chasing the Hawk-owl

Pine Grosbeak

When my alarm went off, I wondered why it had.  It was still dark outside. Glancing at my phone, I noted the time. 4:30am; not any time for any reasonable person to be awake. Unfortunately for me, since I'm a birder, this was "normal" time.  I hopped up, grabbed my gear and headed downstairs. Rob was already awake.  By 5, we had loaded all our gear into my car and were set to take off.  No snow in the air just yet, but it was bitterly cold for a November morning.  I was glad the heat in my car has always worked better than any other system.

A cold, bleak dawn found us well on our way, headed north and east past Green Bay towards Door County where a Northern Hawk-owl had been found.  On the way, we chattered about birding, records, chasing, doing a big year, etc., the usual kind of chatter you hear from crazy birders like us.
After a short stop in Green Bay to grab some food (apparently Rob can't run on just birding alone... who does that? jk :D ) we were well on our way to where the Hawk-owl was hanging out.

Northern Hawk-owl is a fairly rare winter visitor to Wisconsin.  As far as I can tell, the last one to be seen in the state was seen during the great owl irruption of 04-05 at Harrington Beach State Park.  
I've seen dozens of these awesome birds in Northern Minnesota, where they are regular winter residents, but this was my first chase of one in Wisconsin.

After driving most of the way to Sister Bay, we arrived at the Hawk-owl spot around 8:30am.
The Hawk-owl obliged us by sitting in the open, on the power line as we drove up.  Two other birders were already present and watching the bird from the warmth of their cars.

We managed to get a few photos off before it flew back into the Spruce trees across the road.  It perched up momentarily where a flock of White-winged Crossbills mobbed it. Then it flew down out of sight before popping up farther back among the trees. The bird hung out among the trees for the better part of half an hour (during which we spent some time observing the other birds in the area (Crossbills, Redpolls, Pine Grosbeaks, etc) before finally emerging and obligingly perching at the very top of a tall Spruce:

After a customary high-five and watching the bird for about an hour and a half, Rob and I called it quits (it was bitterly cold with a stiff 10mph breeze) and headed home.  

7 hours round-trip, an hour and a half on site, and I added a new bird to my WI state list.
It's not often I get to see two new state birds in the same week!  The Hawk-owl was a lifer for Rob and #312 for his WI year list. That's pretty impressive!


Til next time, Happy Birding!

Birding the Lakefront

It's been some time since I've posted a birding report here. Facebook has taken over much of the blogging world and few of the old bloggers remain. Some retain their relevancy and some newer ones attempt to maintain it, but blogs now take the second seat in this day.  Given that, I still try to maintain this one.

I hadn't been to the lake since late last winter, so on Sat, I decided to take a jaunt on over to see what I could find.

I started off at Grant Park on the south side of Milwaukee where I ran into a few friends; Rebecca Setzer, Seth Cutright, Paul Sparks, Joan Sommer and a few others.  They were gathered near the tennis courts where most of the winter finches had been hanging out.  As I arrived, they pointed out the five Red Crossbills that were partaking of the grand selection of cones in the area.
They proved difficult to photograph with the light, but I did get one decent shot:

Female Red Crossbill

Unfortunately, these were the only boreal birds in the area that morning save for a lone Common Redpoll.  It was better than nothing, but not the birds I was looking for.

Not a bird, but while at there, we saw two Bucks, staying safe from hunters in the confines of the city park. Both of them had large racks:

After birding Grant park and finding next to nothing (our only other notable bird was a flyover Rough-legged Hawk) I took off ahead of the group and headed north.  An Eared Grebe had been reported at Bayview Park just up the shore. Alas, all I could find were endless streams of Red-breasted Mergansers:

After checking Texas Ave, South Shore and Discovery World (only a few Greater Scaup here), I resigned myself to the notion that the Eared Grebe was either not present, or hiding.

North Point in Milwaukee turned out to be the most productive spot of the day. When the group arrived, I already had my scope on all three Scoters. Also present were: a Common Loon, two Long-tailed Ducks and an adult Bald Eagle fishing out on the lake.

Horned Grebes were present in several places in Milwaukee as well as farther north.

At the harbor entrance under the Hoan Bridge, I discovered a single Red-necked Grebe, though the light proved too difficult for any photos.  Two out of three isn't too bad.

After Milwaukee, I headed to Port Washington. Port was quiet, but a flyover Wood Duck was a surprise.
After grabbing lunch at the Dockside Deli (excellent sandwiches) I hopped on the highway to Sheboygan.  

Just south of Sheboygan is Kohler-Andrae State Park. It's actually two state parks right next to each other that are treated as one.  This park has had some pretty awesome birds in past years.  This time, the park was pretty quiet. There were zero passerines save for a few birds around the feeders.
I ran out to the beach and scoped the lake. A dozen Black Scoters were just offshore along with a few Horned Grebes and more Red-breasted Mergansers. Just beyond the heat shimmer was a large raft of Long-tailed Ducks. My minimum estimate was a thousand.  After picking through and finding nothing else of interest, I headed north to Sheboygan.

The Blue Harbor area in Sheboygan was largely devoid of birds. Most notably, the Snowy Owl that had been hanging out there.  I quickly ditched that and headed up to the marina where this Snowy Owl gave us awesome views:

While viewing the Snowy Owl through the scope, we heard the calls of Waxwings behind us.
Picking through some fruit trees across the street from the marina were about 50 or so Cedar Waxwings. Since Bohemian Waxwings had been seen in good numbers in the southern part of the state already, we gave it a go.  The lone Bohemian Waxwing in the group flew right past my head and landed up high in a nearby tree where I quickly pointed it out to the others. We all got scope views eventually. It was an awesome bird to end the day with:

This was not only a new state bird for me (WI #330), but also a new one for my Lower 48 list.


With the sun setting, I started the long trek back home.  Not too bad a finish after a slow start to the day.

It's sounding like it's going to be some pretty sweet birding this winter. We'll see what turns up in the next two weeks before I head out.

Til then, Happy Birding!

Update

I have not done much blogging lately. There are various reasons, much of it attributed to lack of decent Internet at home. But, rather than dwell on what is past, in this post I am looking forward to the future. This year, I have a few things planned out, and may have a few other things pop up unexpectedly, and I plan to keep this blog updated as regularly as possible with as much interesting content as I can.

You might be wondering what I have planned out. Well, here are a few things:
I have several book reviews on backlog that need posting. These will take up whatever space there is whenever I can't write my daily (read: almost daily) post.

Next month, I am guiding for the 4th consecutive year at the Sax-zim Bog winter bird festival.

In late April, I may possibly take a short trip to FL.

In May, I am driving east to western NY to attend a bird banding workshop at Braddock Bay bird observatory.

Come June, I will again be working for Mississippi Explorer Cruises as an Interpretive Naturalist.
All summer, I will be posting about the things I see on the river and some of the small things that most people don't see.

Overall, I will try to show you some of what WI has to offer through the seasons and do my best to portray it such a way that you may wish to come visit one day. :)


That's all I have for now, but keep checking back for there will be more to come.

Little bit of this and that.

Here in Wisconsin, in winter we get snow. Sometimes we get a lot of snow. Once in a while, we get too much snow. Like above, the photo that I took the day after we received 15 inches of snow in one night. It looks really pretty, newfallen, but eventually it has to be removed. For that amount of snow, normal means of removing it simply don't work. Conventional plows get stuck.  That's when we revert to much more powerful remedies:

Yes, that's a Grader with a snowplow on the front. As of yet, we haven't had a snowstorm that they haven't been able to go through.  One drawback though, is that they tend to wipe out your mailbox...

Here's another view of the same type of machine:

Slightly smaller, but just as powerful. This one is plowing a windbreak in a field next to the road to help prevent snow from blowing over the road.
These are the awesome machines that keep our roads clear of snow so that we can go out and enjoy the weather.  Copious amounts of snow here are treated as an everyday occurrence and we simply deal with it.

Winters however, can be rather long some years, and are often quite harsh. The harsh realities of these long, cold winters don't often show themselves, but every once in a while, one runs across the evidence:

Still, quite a few species are hardy enough to survive. Even ones you might not expect.
I photographed this White-crowned Sparrow on one of my Christmas Bird Counts this winter:

I also found White-throated, Song and Fox Sparrows on that CBC (one of the products of a mild start to the winter).  However, some other migratory species find places to overwinter. This Killdeer and its mate were found foraging next to a pair of Wilson's Snipe in the shallow water in the bottom of a fish hatchery impoundment:

But of course, you have to always expect the unexpected. Killdeer and Snipe are regular CBC birds if you know where to look for them. Every once in a while, one runs across a species that they did not expect:

Carolina Wrens are, of course, non-migratory, but it's still amazing to me how they survive the harsh, cold winters of Wisconsin. They are quite a delightful CBC bird though since they, like many wrens, sing regardless of the time of year. It was very nice to hear the rolling "chorlee chorlee chorlee" echo through the woods.

But you're not thinking of winter now are you? Winter just ended. The warm weather is upon us and spring is quickly filling in its annual role. That's ok, this time last year, I wasn't thinking of spring either. I was in Ecuador looking at birds like this Immaculate Antbird:

Or this Masked Flowerpiercer:

When I arrived home, it was almost May and spring was in full swing.  Unfortunately, that's not the case this year and I'm home to watch spring slowly unfold before me. However, that can be the fun part sometimes. This is the time of year when birds are moving and rarities tend to show up. This weekend has a huge warm front moving through the upper Midwest. Who knows what that could bring.  You never know what you'll see. You gotta get out there and look. Maybe you'll get lucky one day and get a Whooping Crane or two:

Or, if you live in Wisconsin, maybe you'll get really lucky and find a Smith's Longspur:

See? You just never know. Anything could show up!

So get out there and see what you can find to share, and if you find something good, don't forget to let me know!

Til next time, Happy Birding!

Spring Raptors

It's been a while since I've posted anything about "normal" birding and sightings. But, today, I'll lean a little that way. ;)

It's springtime. Well, at least, in the calendar sense it is. This time of year, in the upper midwest, you tend to see lots of raptors pairing up. Eagles, Hawks (especially Red-tailed, there's always two Red-tailed Hawks this time of year) and falcons like this pair of American Kestrels.  I was out birding down near Spring Green, WI last week and photographed this pair sitting on a high power line. The male is on the left, told by his sharper, brighter colors, bluish wings and rusty red back.  The female is duller and browner.

Many early spring migrants are in now. Red-winged Blackbirds, American Robins, Fox Sparrows, tons of waterfowl including 5 species of Geese, 3 species of Swans, and up to 18 species of ducks.   I saw 13 species yesterday evening at one stop.

It's always interesting where you find migrant ducks. Many times, you find them in unexpected locations.  Seeing a Ruddy Duck trying to dive in a puddle in the middle of a farm field is a pretty amusing sight.  

Keep your eyes out when out birding. The weather is beginning to warm and the birds are starting to fly. Anything could show up!

The Best Bird of the Year, or, the simple things in life

Scaled Antpitta, Tandayapa, Ecuador

Every year, once a year (usually between the last week of Dec and the first two weeks of Jan), the infamous question arises, "What was your best bird of the year?"

In past years, this question has been relatively simple.  The American Flamingo I saw near Corkscrew Swamp in the mid 90s, the lifer Western Kingbird I found in Kansas one year, the lifer Lazuli Bunting that flew over the hood of the car in Colorado a few years later.  More recently it was birds like the Purple Sandpiper or the White-faced Ibis or the Band-tailed Pigeon I saw in Cape May, NJ in the spring of '06, or the Roseate Tern or the Curlew Sandpiper that I saw there the following year.
Perhaps the Scissor-tailed Flycatcher in early Spring of '08 during a week spent in High Island, TX, or the Baird's Sparrow seen during the Young Birder's Conference in Minot, ND that June, or maybe it was the Flame-colored Tanager at Madera Canyon during VENT's Camp Chiricahua that July. All of them the best in their own way, even though the Tanager eventually won out.

'09 became slightly more difficult when more birds were seen and more rarities were found.  Perhaps my best bird in '09 was the 15th Arizona record of Crescent-chested Warbler, a bird that I had always wanted to see. Maybe it was the 1st New Mexico State record Clapper Rail that I found at Bosque Del Apache one day in mid May, or maybe it was the highly cooperative Sinaloa Wren that always seemed to know when I was coming and never failed to show itself. Perhaps it was the 1st ABA record Gray-collared Becard that decided to show up in Cave Creek Canyon one day in early Jun that only a handful of people ever got to see, or maybe it was the 1st ABA record Brown-backed Solitaire found by my friends at Camp Chiricahua that year.  My birding travels later that summer made it even more difficult. Yellow-footed Gull at the Salton Sea, a 1st known record of a hybrid between Great Knot and Surfbird that hung out at a Snowy Plover Reserve in San Diego for a few weeks, many lifers on my first ever pelagic trip on Monterey Bay, the Yellow-billed Magpies that I found on my way back to Arizona.

My trip home that year made it even harder.  Green Jay, Audubon's Oriole and Magnificent Frigatebird near Corpus Christi, TX, White-tailed Hawk sitting on a telephone pole near Aransas NWR in a total downpour, Audubon's Shearwater blown up off the gulf by a freak storm in Louisiana.  I had nearly 500 species to choose from that year.  Rarity again trumped all others on my list with the Becard, the Wren and the Solitaire all tying for first place.

This past year however has been different.  Before last year, I placed a high priority on keeping a year list and keeping my life list totals as exact as possible.  2010 started out the same. I spent the first few months of the year running up my year list as much as possible. Then, I took my first (and very much unexpected) trip out of the country. The 8 day tour to Costa Rica with VENT changed a lot of things for me. All of a sudden, I was seeing more birds in a single week than I could see in the US in several months. The birdlife of Costa Rica in March was extravagant, Toucans, Toucanets, Parrots, Parakeets, Tanagers, Orioles, Warblers, Sparrows, Motmots, Antbirds, Oropendolas and many others, all vying for attention. Each seemingly trying to outdo the previous one with spectacular colors and progressively wackier songs.  How could anything back in the US compare with these birds of the tropics?

A month later, I was in Ecuador, living and working at Tandayapa Bird Lodge in the Andean Cloud Forest near Mindo. These birds were not quite as gaudy or spectacular as the Costa Rican ones, but they were special in their own way. Each with its own unique set of habits and its own character.
After a month in Ecuador, I flew home thinking that birding would not quite ever be the same again.

Back home in Wisconsin, several really good sightings found their way into my year. Multiple Ibis of two different species all over the state, nesting Black-legged Stilts at Horicon Marsh, my second WI Ruff turned up in Dane county in April and, along with it, my 600th ABA lifer in the form of a female Smith's Longspur.

A trip to Colorado in June cleaned up almost all possible lifers for me in that state and included some quite rare birds for that region. My lifer Lewis's Woodpecker was quite a welcome one as it was a bird I had long searched for without success. Another was my lifer White-tailed Ptarmigan which was finally done eluding me.  Shortly after, my family took a trip to the Medicine Bow Mountains of Southern Wyoming where I found more Three-toed Woodpeckers than I believed possible. They were overshadowed however by only the 3rd ABA record of an Orange-billed Nightingale-thrush that chose to skip its usual Texas stopover all together and land in Spearfish Canyon in the Black Hills of South Dakota, a feat unheard of before.

September yielded my 3rd trip to the tropics, my second trip to South America, and my first real taste of birding in the Amazon Rainforest.  Here, birds abounded everywhere. Daily lists exceeded a whole year's worth of birding back home in WI, and the entire trip total for the 18 days I spent in Southern Peru nearly matched my whole life's worth of birding in North America.  It was about this time that I lost track of my lists entirely. inundated with more birds in two weeks than I had seen in 10 years left me with a pile of paperwork almost too big to tackle.  My ABA life list is fairly complete and easy to keep track of, but I haven't the slightest idea what my world life list is except that it's somewhere around 1600 species give or take a hundred or so.

Birding the Tropics is at once both exciting and frustratingly difficult. A lifer around every corner, and yet, that's only if you can get a good enough look to identify it.  Over my 3 trips to Central and South America this year, I learned many things about birding and bird identification. I especially learned to study a bird for as long as it is cooperative and not just glance at it because, especially for some species, there's a good chance you may never see that bird again.  The excitement of another lifer around every corner drives you on and on to see every part of the tropics and eventually the world.

When I arrived back home after this 3rd trip, birding seemed dull, boring and easy. These were birds I saw all the time, there were no possible lifers here and I could look at them whenever I wanted to. So, with nothing else to do that's what I did.  Until November that is when a Ross's Gull showed up in Denver, CO. With this new lifer so close (Ross's Gulls live north of the Arctic Circle), I and 5 other friends gave chase and made the long drive overnight out to Denver to see the bird.  Twitching and chasing birds long distance is, has been, and I think, always will be fun. The thrill of driving long distance just to see something with wings, a body, a head and feet keeps even the most exhausted birders wide awake, crossing our fingers, hoping the bird will be there when we arrive if nothing else, simply to make the long drive worth it. Then comes the exhilaration of actually seeing that bird you drove so far for, and then the mental and physical exhaustion taking over on the long drive home.

I ended the year of 2010 with a short trip to my favorite winter birding hotspot, Sax-zim Bog where I finally found a long-awaited lifer, Great Gray Owl.  Another of the many birds I had been wanting to see for many years, it was quite a nice end to the year.


Last week, one of my friends just asked me the yearly, expected question, "What was your best bird of the year?"

I thought about this for a long while. I thought of all the places I had been and all the things I had seen.  What could I really, truthfully call the best bird of the year?

Was it the Snowy Owl on Jan 1st at Buena Vista Grasslands? Or was it the Northern Hawk-Owl at Sax-zim Bog a month later?  Maybe it was the Rufous-naped Wren in Costa Rica that was my 600th world lifer, or perhaps the Toucan Barbet in Ecuador a month later? Or was it my 600th ABA lifer Smith's Longspur in WI in April? Perhaps it was the stunning Resplendent Quetzal of montane Costa Rica or the Snowy Cotinga of the lowlands? Or maybe it was my lifer Lewis's Woodpecker or White-tailed Ptarmigan in Colorado? or all the Three-toed Woodpeckers in Wyoming? Or perhaps it was the Orange-billed Nightingale-thrush that so randomly chose to appear in the Black Hills?  Maybe it was hearing Black-faced Solitaire in Costa Rica or White-eared Solitaire in Ecuador?  Or was it the Spangled Cotinga or the Flame-faced Tanager or the Scarlet Macaw in Peru?  Was it the Ross's Gull in Colorado this fall?  Or was it the Great Gray Owl at Sax-Zim Bog so recently? Or perhaps it was the Inca Terns and the Diademed Sandpiper-Plover of Peru?  Perhaps the spectacular Lyre-tailed Nightjar in Ecuador? or the Mangrove Cuckoo at 8000ft in Costa Rica? A bird seemingly so far from its regular habitat that it looked completely out of place.  Was it the two species of Ibis in one scope view at the same time at Horicon Marsh? or was it the Black-necked Stilts that were doing their best to raise a successful nest so far from their normal range.  Perhaps it was seeing Giant Antpitta up close in Ecuador or finding the beautiful Cinnamon Flycatcher?  Was it the Eye-ringed Thistletail or the White-tufted Sunbeam or the Royal Cinclodes in Peru? or was it seeing a very out of place Black-billed Cuckoo in Colorado?  Perhaps it was finding a cooperative Eastern Screech-owl near my home in WI or finding a pair of Whooping Cranes in my home county?  Or was it being the first person to photograph a Chuck-wills-widow in WI or seeing my lifer Kirtland's Warbler?
Maybe it was the Costa Rican Pygmy-Owl or the Peruvian Pygmy Owl? Or was it the spectacular Sword-billed Hummingbird of Ecuador?  Was it the Northern Shrike I found on almost every CBC or the Audubon's Warbler I found in WI on a CBC in western WI?  Or maybe it was the Great Potoo of Peru or the Common Potoo of Ecuador? Or maybe the overly cute Collared Redstart in Costa Rica or the stunning Flame-throated Warbler or the young Torrent Tyrannulet sitting on a branch over a rushing stream begging to be fed?

Or maybe, just maybe, I told them, it was that Tufted Titmouse at my backyard feeders the other day gathering sunflower seeds to stash for a colder, less fruitful time of year.

Peruvian Paradigms: Pt 3: Rainforest reminisces Pt 2: 1000 birds and counting

Inca Terns, Callao, Peru

 When I first arrived in Peru, I knew I would break the 1000 mark on the first full day of birding.  I guessed that I would at least break the 1400 mark.  What blew me away was the number of species I actually saw.   I still don't have the exact total, but I'm fairly certain that my life list is now upwards of 1600. That would be nearly 600 species seen in two weeks in Peru, 465 of them in one week. Talk about insane......

The number of species in a single week was so mind blurring that had I not photographed a lot of them I might not even believe that I had seen them.  During the trip, I birded almost every habitat in Peru; from coastal mudflats to beaches to western slope foothills to paramo to Andean bogs to east slope foothills to cloudforest to tropical rainforest and more.

The two Inca Terns above were one of my most wanted birds in Peru. The most elegant of all the Terns, these birds are graceful (if not somewhat chunky) fliers.  The other coastal species I saw were pretty awesome too. Guanay (pronounced "wan-aye") Cormorant, Peruvian Booby, Peruvian Pelican, Kelp, Grey, Band-tailed and Andean Gulls, South American Tern, Peruvian Thick-knee, Surfbird, Whimbrel and many other species that were both lifers, and familiar residents in the US.

Of special interest were the members of the Toucan family that I encountered, like this Chestnut-eared Aracari and Blue-banded Toucanet:

Chestnut-eared Aracari, Puerto Maldonado, Peru

Blue-banded Toucanet

Higher up in the Andes,  the stunning Gray-breasted Mountain-toucan takes over:

Gray-breasted Mountain-toucan

Toucans are a family of birds that have no living relatives in the ABA area, so for me, it's always fun to see one of the Toucan family.

Birding the tropical rainforest is always fun. You never know what you're going to see and you can always get a lifer, no matter how long you've spent in one spot.  I actually know someone who spent three months at a single lodge in the Ecuadorian rainforest and got a lifer on his last day.

Rainforest birding is much like birding in Southern AZ in the fall. You spend a lot of time walking the trails looking for mixed flocks. Once you find one, you spend half an hour following it trying to glean out every last species in the group.  Sometimes, there are so many birds in the flock that you don't know which way to look.  There were a few times that I ended up birding with my camera rather than binoculars just to make sure I had a picture of the bird to identify it.  This was necessary, because by the time you saw the bird, got a good look at it, flipped through half the field guide trying to find it, ID it and then look up again, the flock would be gone.   Had I not been birding that way, I would've missed this Peruvian Recurvebill:

Peruvian Recurvebill, Puerto Maldonado, Peru

The bird came zipping through the leaves, landed on the branch for a second, then took off again.  Too short of a time to see the diagnostic bill, but just long enough to snap a shot off.

One of the highlights of the week in the Amazon rainforest was a short trip up the Tambopata River to a small oxbow lake known for being the only place in Peru where one could find Unicolored Blackbird. A bird discovered at the location previously by our guide, Gunnar Engblom, of Kolibri Expeditions.
We did eventually see the Blackbird, though my photo of it is mostly grass and reeds.

Gunnar was pretty happy about getting the Blackbird:

The other inhabitants of the lake provided some better photo ops. This Hoatzin posed quite nicely:

Hoatzin, Puerto Maldonado, Tambopata, Peru

Hoatzins are, perhaps, the wackiest, as well as largest, member of the Cuckoo family; being roughly the size of a small turkey, with their spiky crown and the most insane call of any Cuckoo.

Here is a recording of a Hoatzin from the same area:
[http://www.xeno-canto.org/sounds/uploaded/SBFBVYGIJC/opihoa01.mp3]

Also present on the lake was a bird that I had been hoping we would see.  If you recall last fall, a Sungrebe turned up at Bosque Del Apache in central New Mexico constituting a first US record of an unexpected species.  Fortunately, the bird is far more common in the tropical Amazon and provided us with some great looks:

Sungrebe, Puerto Maldonado, Tambopata, Peru

Other birds seen during the day proved far too numerous to mention.  Along the river, we had two chance sightings of birds that we never saw again. The mystical Bare-necked Fruitcrow in a quick flyby, high above, and the almost comical Red-crested Cardinal sitting on a rock in the middle of the river. Not wanting to get my camera wet (the river boat we were in was slightly more than a long, motorized Canoe...), I missed the chance to photograph either of these species.


Tune in again soon for part 3 of Rainforest Reminisces.

Aerial Tram and Savegre Lodge

Yes, that is a Resplendent Quetzal.  One of the most sought after birds of the Tropics, possibly in the world.  They are endemic to Central America, ranging from southern Mexico into central Panama.  A bird of the highlands, their range is usually restricted to above 7000ft in elevation, but sticking to the deep valleys rather than the mountaintops.  

With their deep, blood red chest,  iridescent blue head and shimmering blue-green back, they are widely regarded as the most beautiful bird in the world.  

The twin "feathery" feathers extending past the tail are one of the signature field marks of this species.  Not really tail feathers, the two feathers are actually the extended central two upper tail covert feathers. 

We saw a total of about 8 Quetzals during our 2 day stay at Savegre Lodge.  Not bad eh? :D

Our last day at La Selva Research Station brought rain, a few lifers, and a sighting of a bird that we would see only once. Mimi picked out a Laughing Falcon sitting on a dead snag half a mile away through the rain.  Not a bad find considering how tricky these birds can be!

Our drive to Savegre Lodge was marked by an early start, a stop at the Aerial Tram and Butterfly Garden and a rather long day.

The stop at the Butterfly Gardens was a productive stop considering that we saw only a couple species of Hummers. Violet-headed made up most of the birds we saw. Rufous-tailed made up the rest.
The lack of Hummers was more than made up for by the flight of raptors that went through.  It started with a flyover Double-toothed Kite that some of us managed to get onto before it vanished over the trees.  Then, while waiting for a Lattice-tailed Trogon to come out, someone happened to look up and spotted this huge, black and white bird cruising slowly over, far above us.  The call went up within a matter of seconds. KING VULTURE!!!  In all, 6 of these awesome birds floated over, high above us.
Then a few people (including me) spotted a large, buteo-like raptor with broad wings and after much discussion, decided it was a Great Black-hawk.

A flock of Tanagers flew through. Mostly Olive, but also containing Golden-hooded among others. A Scarlet-thighed Dacnis gave quick views and our thousandth Chestnut-sided Warbler was seen (well, somewhere up there anyway...)
After deciding that we had plundered all the goodies from that section of forest, we moved on to Savegre Lodge.

Savegre Lodge turned out to be nestled at the very bottom of one of the most beautiful valleys I have ever seen.  The greenery was a welcome change from the drab brown I'd been seeing all winter here in the upper midwest.  The entire valley was a glittering shade of green.

Panorama stitching is courtesy of my friend Andrea over at the Earthbirds Blog

 The buildings blended well with the surroundings and the blue sky overhead was a welcome change from the grey clouds we had been seeing all week.

Even as we hopped off the bus, the birding began in earnest. This was a completely different group of species than the lowland rainforest birds we had been getting used to.  This Black-capped Flycatcher posed quite nicely for the camera.

The Hummingbirds proved to be easier to see and even a little more spectacular than the lowland Rufous-tails.  The star of the show turned out to be this White-throated Mountain-gem who appeared to be well versed in the art of posing:

Green Violetear was by far the most numerous Hummingbird and possibly the most numerous bird of the highlands. You could hear their fast, chipping call almost everywhere we went.

The best part about Savegre Lodge was the beautiful gardens on the grounds.  Words cannot fully describe them. Neither can photos, but here is my attempt at it:

I spent most of the last part of our first day at Savegre exploring the gardens with Dave, Mimi, and a few other people.  The actual number of species at the lodge wasn't even close to the diversity of the lowlands, but the quality made up for it. There were still some reminiscent species from the lowlands. The ever present Tropical Kingbird had perched himself high on a power line, and Clay-colored Thrushes still attempted to wake me up long before the designated time, but the higher-elevation, montane species took over from the rest. Flame-colored Tanagers were very vocal, Grey-breasted Wood-wren replaced it's White-breasted cousin, Spangle-cheeked Tanagers took over from Olive and Swallow-tailed Kite filled in the nearly absent spot that the Turkey Vultures once filled.
Perusing our way through the garden, a Ruddy-capped Nightingale-thrush captured our attention as it acted much like a Robin. Hopping around on the ground out in the open and giving excellent looks:

Here in the highlands, a few extra families reside that don't show up at all in the lowlands.
The ringing, echoing, bell-like tones of Black-faced Solitaire filtered down from above like sunlight filters through the leaves of a forest. We never saw the majority of them, but fortunately, a few did give us excellent looks and one was nice enough to pose just long enough to have his portrait taken:

Hunting deeper through the gardens, someone eventually spotted one of the far cuter birds of the area.

I had taken a break and gone rock hopping down the creek, but managed to get back just in time to see and photograph this Collared Redstart. Unfortunately, he didn't pose long, but did stay long enough for everyone to get excellent looks at this awesome bird.

Back at the lodge that evening, several of us took advantage of the hummingbird feeders (something non-existent in the humid lowlands due to the extra-high maintenance they require down there)
The hummingbirds proved to be very much used to people and would let us walk right up to them without even blinking.

White-throated Mountain-gems are totally awesome aren't they? :D


Just as a comparison to how close they'd let us get, I took the following photo with my little Point & Shoot rather than my big DSLR.  Crazy eh?

Our first and only full day of birding at Savegre Lodge involved a run to the very top of the nearby Cerro de La Muerte. As one goes up in elevation in the tropics, the species diversity decreases with every 1000ft of elevation gain. Only about half a dozen species live at the top of Cerro de La Muerte. Several of them are Endemic to the highlands of Costa Rica and Panama.

Sooty Thrush is one of the simplest birds to ID in the Costa Rican highlands. Simply because it is bigger and darker than anything else that can be found at the top of Cerro de La Muerte.  Although, even when seen further down the mountain, it is still unmistakeable.

Our trip to the top of the mountain targeted only a couple species because they could be found nowhere else.  Our primary search was for Volcano Junco. A bird that is restricted to a few mountain-tops in Costa Rica and Panama.  Fortunately, the search proved easy as we saw 3 within the first 15 minutes of getting off the bus. This particular individual posed quite nicely:

After some searching, we eventually found Fiery-throated Hummingbird, Large-footed Finch, Volcano Hummingbird and Timberline Wren.  Having filled out our list, we headed back to the lodge for the evening.

Our final morning at Savegre, we started with one of the most productive hikes I've ever been on.
We made excellent use of the Lodge's 4X4 vehicles as we headed to the top of the mountain in preparation to hike down.  On the way up, several of us in the first vehicle heard a Rufous-browed Peppershrike. A hidden testament to the fact that there were more birds here than we could possibly see in the alloted time.  Arriving at the top of the trail, we checked out a staked out Costa Rican Pygmy-Owl nest. Despite our repeated attempts to coerce one into showing itself, we gave up and started inspecting the other local birds. Here, at 8500ft in elevation, Golden-bellied Flycatcher replaced the Kiskadees of the lowlands.  While the group headed off chasing one of these admittedly awesome birds, I stuck it out for the Pygmy-owl.  Reverting to my 4 months of experience looking for cavity-nesting owls in Arizona, I decided to try a classic trick. I walked up and scratched the tree. Having proved it working on every cavity-nesting owl I had tried it on so far, I had high hopes for it working this time. Sure enough, curiosity got the best of the little owl and he poked his head out just long enough for me to take his portrait:

Unfortunately, even though I called to the group the moment he stuck his head out, they arrived just as he poked his head back in and, not to be outsmarted again, refused to come out. Despite all further attempts at convincing him to appear.

As we were about to head down the trail, Dave's sharp ears picked out the sound of a Silvery-throated Jay calling from somewhere nearby. Using playback with great effectiveness, Dave lured the Jay closer so we could see it. Highly intellegent, like most corvids, the jay was not easily convinced and kept his distance. Just close enough for us to see. Just barely. Eventually, he flew into the tree directly above us where we lost him. While looking for the jay, I spotted a movement at the top of a 100ft Oak.  The white belly combined with long, spotted tail and black and yellow bill left little doubt as to the family but the exact ID was a tad harder in figuring out. The weirdness of the location left me guessing for a second before it hit me.  I called to Dave "Dave, I've got a Cuckoo"  Dave just gave me a look that said "a what???" He called back "A Cuckoo???" "Yea, I've got a Cuckoo" I replied.  He came running over and we both studied the bird. After photographing and examining both the photos and the highly cooperative bird through the scope, we both reached the same conclusion. The pattern of the tail and the rather buffy coloring underneath left no doubt. It was a Mangrove Cuckoo.

It was definitely one of the rarer birds that we found during the trip. It is also my understanding that this was not only a new bird for the tour's all time list, but also a new bird for the Savegre Lodge list.
Seeing a bird that I connect with the lowland swampy forests of southern Florida so far from it's regular habitat at the top of an oak halfway up a mountain was, while wacky, pretty awesome!  It was the last new bird for the trip that we actually saw (we heard Buffy Tuftedcheek on the way down).

In all, it was a completely awesome 8 days in Costa Rica with an awesome group and awesome guides!
Many thanks to Dave and Mimi for putting up with my nearly constant questions!

The rest of my photos from the trip can be found at:
http://flickr.com/photos/swallowtailphoto


Would I go back? of course! In a second!!

Costa Rica 2010: La Quinta de Sarapiqui and La Selva Research Station

The sudden song of a Robin singing just outside my window jolted me awake.  It took me a second to realize that I wasn't at home and that the Robin singing outside was not a Robin at all but a Clay-colored Thrush. Glancing at the clock, I saw the time. 3:45am.  Cursing the vociferous, mud-colored bird, I dropped back against the pillow, attempting to savor what little sleep I had left before my alarm went off 15 minutes later. When the alarm finally did go off, I hauled myself up and out of bed, grabbed my binoculars and stumbled out the door.  It wasn't even fully light yet. Though, whether the sun had just come up or was still below the horizon was impossible to tell due to the heavy layer of clouds that blanketed the forest as far as I could see. hovering just above the trees, they provided an effective barrier to any hopeful rays of light that tried to sneak through.  Somewhere overhead, a Chestnut-mandibled Toucan confirmed that I was no longer in Kansas.  I listened, inquisitively as Collared Aracaris called, Tanagers chipped and Honeycreepers made their presence known.  It was all so different!  Different from anything I had ever seen or heard before.

After breakfast, roughly an hour and a half later, we grabbed our gear and boarded the bus to the world famous La Selva Reasearch Station.  The station owns land on the lowland outskirts of Braulio Carillo National Park.  The park land extends clear up to the top of Volcan Irazul making the stretch of land from La Selva to the crater's edge one of the largest tracts of un-interrupted old-growth forest that stretches from the high mountain oak forest to the lowland rainforest below.

Our arrival at La Selva was greeted by the quintessential ingredient of lowland tropical forest. Rain.
Nonetheless deterred, we walked down the entrance road determined to get our first real lowland birding in.  A flock of Tanagers stopped us cold in our tracks barely 50ft from the bus.  The ever-present and gaudy Golden-hooded Tanagers reined over this flock.

A White-necked Jacobin perched high in a tree above us and a Slaty-tailed Trogon called from somewhere up ahead.  Suddenly, a large, dark bird flashed by just over our heads. I caught the yellow in the tail as it vanished through the trees. Our leader, Dave Wolf, confirmed my suspicions by identifying the bird as a Montezuma Oropendola. Lifer!!!!!
It was one of the several birds that would go from lifer to "trash bird" in about 15 minutes.

As we walked farther down the road, the Trogon gave us excellent looks and photo ops. More Tanagers abounded all around us and Toucans and Oropendolas flew overhead.  A singing Bright-rumped Attila (pictured above) gave us most excellent looks


Further down the road, Dave managed to locate a Great Antshrike.  Finding the typical skulker wasn't easy, but with a bit of playback and some coaxing, he finally made an appearance:

It took about 3 hours, but we finally made it down to the station itself.  It was there that we picked up the most species.  Golden-hooded Tanagers, Rufous-tailed Hummingbirds, Masked Tityra, 3 species of Puffbird, Grey-crowned Flycatcher, Rufous-winged Woodpecker and many others.
The big one was a highly cooperative Broad-billed Motmot:

By my calculations, this was my 700th world lifer.   I had seen my 600th lifer only 3 days before when a Rufous-naped Wren woke me up at the hotel in San Jose on day 1.

The local guide at La Selva took us back onto one of the trails.  Here, the birds of the open edges left us and the birds of the interior rainforest took over. It was much quieter with far less activity.  A calling Rufous Motmot held our attention for a time, but refused to come close enough to the trail to actually see.
Finally, a stunning Chestnut-colored Woodpecker perched on a conspicuous branch and gave spectacular views to all:

Returning to La Quinta, we had a special treat in store for us. The Red-legged Honeycreepers had finally come in to the bananas offered by the staff.

I don't know what it is about Bananas, but everyone likes them. Even the local birds! :)  

The end of a long day of birding came quickly. Darkness set in fast and before I knew it, it was time for sleep.  We all crashed after the long day. No idea what lifers were in store for us the next day.

As I fell asleep, the repetitive call of a Paraque echoed in the background.
Keeping alive the darkened forest and lulling me to slumbers and dreams of what amazing birds were to come.