birding philosophy

Feeding Frenzy

Posted by John Rakestraw on March 23, 2012
Posted in: birding philosophy, conservation issues. Tagged: , , , . 1 comment

For the past few weeks I have been enjoying a large flock of Pine Siskins at my feeder. But as often occurs during years of high siskin numbers, I started noticing a few sick birds. So I stopped feeding for a few days. With the feeder empty, the large flocks of birds dispersed, reducing the risk of disease spreading from bird to bird.

Packing birds into unnaturally high densities at a bird feeder can create risks for the birds we are trying to help. While many of us enjoy feeding birds and other wildlife, it is important to do so mindfully. We have to be aware that feeding birds is something we do for our own entertainment, not something that the birds actually need. My feeder is outside my window for the sole purpose of drawing birds in close so that I can enjoy watching them from the comfort of my home. If the feeder wasn’t there, the birds would do just fine. It is my responsibility to be aware of how my bird feeding impacts the birds.

It was reported recently that Scotts Miracle-Gro was selling bird food treated with pesticides known to be harmful to birds (see story here). A few years ago, it was revealed that sunflower farmers in the Dakotas have taken such measures as destroying cattail marshes and poisoning and/or shooting birds to reduce the impact of blackbirds feeding in their fields. These stories illustrate how the seemingly innocuous hobby of feeding birds can have broader implications. We need to know where the food comes from and what is in it.

My feeder is filled again and, with the large flock of siskins gone, other species are becoming more visible.


Lesser Goldfinches, our smallest finch, are coming more frequently now that things have quieted down.


Two Purple Finches have appeared this week.


A few Pine Siskins stayed behind when the main flock left. A Purple Finch towers in the background.

To Bird or to Twitch?

Posted by John Rakestraw on January 13, 2012
Posted in: birding philosophy, rarities, Uncategorized. Tagged: , , . 1 comment

I finally had a few hours to get out birding, and had planned to visit some of the Washington County wetlands. But a Brambling visiting a feeder in Woodburn presented me with a dilemma. Should I spend my birding time standing around in someone’s back yard hoping to see a particular bird, or should I explore large areas of habitat and find birds on my own?

The Brambling, an uncommon visitor from Asia, was only a 30 minute drive from home, well within my “chase radius.” (I will drive up to an hour and a half to chase a rarity, although it had better be a darned good bird if it is over an hour away.) The species would be a lifer for me, a nice tick on my Oregon list, and this would perhaps be my only chance to see this species. Then again, if the bird didn’t show up, I would have spent my limited birding time not looking at birds. With some reluctance, I decided to go for the twitch.

When I arrived at the stake-out site, a small group of birders informed me that I had just missed the Brambling. How typical is that? So I began my wait, hoping that the bird would maintain her schedule of repeated visits to her favorite feeder. I had come this far, so I might as well stick it out.


As luck would have it, this yard was very birdy. A small flock of Evening Grosbeaks was a rare treat. Several species of finches and sparrows worked the feeders, interrupted occasionally by a hungry Cooper’s Hawk. After about an hour of waiting, three things happened; my cell phone rang, the owner of the home came out to offer me a cup of coffee, and the Brambling appeared.


So with one hand holding my phone (it was an important call), I used the other hand to hold my binocular to get a brief look at the bird, then snap a few photos, all while thanking my host for the coffee (he didn’t realize that I was on the phone, and didn’t know that I don’t drink coffee). Then the Brambling flew away.

So now what? I had gotten a brief glimpse of the Brambling, although not a very satisfying view of a lifer, and had no idea if any of my photos would be usable or not. The bird had established a pattern of visiting the yard about once an hour for less than a minute. Do I hang out for another hour (did I mention it was really cold?), or do I cut my losses and go do some real birding? I was leaning toward the latter when an acquaintance of mine arrived to look for the bird. The prospect of visiting with him, along with the general birdiness of the this yard, convinced me to stay and try for another look at the Brambling.


This Downy Woodpecker worked on the suet feeder.


Notice that the Dark-eyed Junco on the left has some dark gray on the sides and a darker back than the typical Oregon race birds.

Here is the same bird from the back. The brownish cast on the bird’s back is not right for a pure Slate-colored Junco, so I think this bird is an intergrade Slate-colored/Oregon.


After about an hour, the Brambling returned for less than twenty seconds. I spent the entire time watching her with my binocular, making up for the fleeting view of the previous visit.

So I had gotten my lifer, adding my twitch to the checklist, but I had also gotten some actual birding in, as well. I had seen about 20 species in that little yard, and had a nice visit with some other birders. While I really enjoy getting out and finding large numbers of species, there is often birding to be had in confined situations such as this. I will still struggle with the choice of birding or twitching, but hopefully I will allow myself to find the joy in either.

Eastern Kingbird

Posted by John Rakestraw on July 24, 2011
Posted in: birding philosophy, OR Birding Sites. Tagged: , . Leave a Comment

A few years ago I blogged on birding and aesthetics , describing how beautiful birds and beautiful scenery do not always occur together. I saw another example of this recently.


Tucked away in this scene of power lines and invasive Himalayan Blackberries is a lovely Eastern Kingbird. This species is very hard to find in the Portland area, regularly occurring in small numbers only at the Sandy River Delta.

Part of birding’s appeal is the fact that birds can show up just about anywhere. No matter how badly we have degraded the landscape, there is still a chance that some wonderful creature might fly in, at least for a brief stop.

Seen it all

Posted by John Rakestraw on October 9, 2009
Posted in: birding philosophy. 1 comment

A birder recently told me that he didn’t do much local birding because he had “seen it all.” I understand what he meant; once you have birded an area long enough, it becomes increasingly unlikely that you are going to see any new species. But I will never reach the point where I have seen everything there is to see, no matter how small an area we are talking about.

feeder

As I am currently being held captive by our new puppy, I haven’t been able to get out into the field to bird for about two weeks. The bird feeder has been busy, but with the same half-dozen species that I normally see. Yet I continue to look out the window at every opportunity, just to see what is going on. Why? Because you never know. If a Brambling or a Xantus’s Hummingbird or a Rustic Bunting shows up around here, it will probably be at a backyard bird feeder. Even if the mega-rarity never shows, there is still plenty to see and much to learn about the more mundane. When will the Pine Siskins arrive this year, or will they? Will there ever be a Common Redpoll among them? Just the other day, a Pileated Woodpecker flew over the property. This is a new bird for the yard list. I happened to see this bird when I was taking the puppy out for the gazillionth time and noticed a shadow pass over us. I turned to glimpse this large woodpecker flying over and then disappear. What other species have flown over when I didn’t happen to glance up? In the eight years I have lived here, there have been noticeable changes in the bird species that use the property. The Northern Saw-whet Owl was a one-day wonder eight years ago. Completely absent a few years ago, both Lesser Goldfinches and Western Screech Owls are now regular visitors. Population dynamics will continue to change. New species will continue to appear from time to time. There will always be something new to see or learn, even in my little yard, let alone the county or the state. Seen it all? Not in my lifetime.

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Nala, future Birding Dog

Duckzilla

Posted by John Rakestraw on March 27, 2009
Posted in: birding philosophy, species profile. Tagged: , . 1 comment

Domestication is a strange thing. It enhances certain traits while diminishing others, usually not for the better. A classic example is the Muscovy Duck. In its wild form, this large duck is black with green iridescence and white wing panels. It nests and roosts in trees along tropical rivers, reaching the U.S. only along the Rio Grande River in Texas. The domesticated form is found in parks and farms throughout the country, and bears little similarity to its wild ancestors.

duckzilla

This photo shows two domestic Muscovy Ducks, a female on the left and a gargantuan male on the right. For a size comparison, note the Wood Duck in the background. The male weighs close to 20 pounds, larger than most Wild Turkeys I have seen. This is not a bird that will be flying to a tree cavity any time soon. While some might admire this bird for his formidable size and brightly colored facial skin, I think domestication has robbed him of his true nature and, if I may be anthropomorphic (and I may because this is my blog), his dignity. If ducks dream, I hope this bird envisions himself sleek and black, flying along a tropical river and roosting in a hollow tree.

Wild Turkey

Posted by John Rakestraw on November 26, 2008
Posted in: birding philosophy. Tagged: . Leave a Comment

Unique to the Americas, the two species of turkey are beautiful, huge birds.  Wild Turkeys are native to North America, while Oscillated Turkeys can be found in Central America. Close to extinction in the early part of the 20th Century, Wild Turkeys have made a tremendous comeback in their original range, and have been widely introduced elsewhere. While not native to Oregon, the Rio Grande race of Wild Turkey was introduced in 1975 and is faring well in much of the state.

Turkeys are known to most people not as a wild creature, or even so much as a food, but as a centerpiece on the table at Thanksgiving. It is tradition to serve these birds on that day. But when does a tradition become a ritual? It seems a bit creepy to me to sacrificially kill and eat a particular species on a particular day, just because we have always done so. Most people have never seen a Wild Turkey, or even a living domesticated one, and yet they perpetuate this rite without considering it.

I think turkeys can be far better appreciated in the field than on the table.  On a day set aside to acknowledge the abundance of life, we should celebrate living beings, not sacrificial ones.

turkey
These are free-ranging Wild Turkeys in northeastern Oregon.

freerangeturkeys
These are “free range” domestic turkeys. Selective breeding has made them into obese, pale shadows of their wild ancestors.

The best laid plans

Posted by John Rakestraw on September 20, 2008
Posted in: birding philosophy, identification challenges, OR Birding Sites. Tagged: , , , , , . 1 comment

It is sometimes the case, when I plan to look for a certain type of bird, that my target species are nowhere to be found. On those days we have to let go of our expectations and open ourselves to whatever treasures the birding fates have for us. I helped with a field trip today that was supposed to visit a hawk watch site. The ridge was completely socked in by low clouds, so we had to scrap our plans and instead birded open range and farm land.

Likewise, I recently visited Fernhill Wetlands (Birding Oregon p. 61) to look for shorebirds. Despite the decent amount of mudflat habitat available, shorebirds were almost non-existent. While I was disappointed in the lack of waders, there is always something interesting to watch.


Always common, but always worth a look, Great Blue Herons will often surprise you with the interesting creatures they are attempting to swallow. On this day I watched one bird swallow a large catfish.


Great Egrets congregate this time of year to fish in the receding waters.


This Peregrine Falcon was keeping watch over the wetlands. This might explain the lack of shorebirds.


We are still in the “ugly brown duck season,” when many birds are still in eclipse plumage. Despite the lack of characteristic colors, most birds can be identified by shape or by tell-tale field marks. This picture shows two Northern Pintails on either side of a Green-winged Teal. The pintails are identified by their pointy backsides and their blue sloping bills. The tiny teal is displaying the green speculum on the wing that give the species its name.

A Sense of Entitlement

Posted by John Rakestraw on August 29, 2008
Posted in: birding philosophy. 1 comment

There was an interesting thread on the Oregon Birders On Line (OBOL) email list this week. It started with two birders reporting an Eastern Yellow Wagtail on the north shore of the Necanicum Estuary in Gearhart (Birding Oregon p. 122). Eastern Yellow Wagtail is extremely rare in Oregon, and this individual will be the first verified by a photograph. So this was a great find.

The birders posted the find on OBOL that evening, once they got to a location with an internet connection. What followed was a pathetic tantrum from several birders who felt cheated. Some wanted to know why these birders hadn’t reported the sighting earlier. (The bird had been seen in the mid-afternoon.) Some accused the birders of being selfish. Some suggested that these birders, both being members of the Oregon Bird Records Committee, had an obligation to share the sighting immediately and then accused the entire committee of being elitist and secretive.

When did we get to this point where we feel entitled to know about everyone else’s birding results? It wasn’t that long ago that rare bird reports only appeared in print several months after the fact. Just because current technology makes it POSSIBLE to report rarities instantly, birders are certainly not under any obligation to do so. I do not have the RIGHT to know what birds you saw today, no matter how rare they are.

I have certainly benefited from other birders’ sightings. Many of the rarer species on my Oregon list (Lesser Sand-Plover, Northern Hawk Owl, Ruff, Sharp-tailed Sandpiper, Vermilion Flycatcher, Cassin’s Kingbird) are the result of chasing birds reported on OBOL. Rare bird alerts are tools that we can use, but they are not the only way to find birds, and they are not a God-given right.

The people who find the most rarities are the people who go birding a lot and look at a lot of common species. It is a combination of persistence (the more you bird, the more you will see) and dumb luck. So if you hear about a great bird that someone else has found, and it is too late or too far to chase, turn off your computer and go birding. Find your own birds and enjoy every one of them.


Great Blue Heron, a very common bird in this area, but always worth a look


a young Cedar Waxwing

Of Dog Days and Guilt

Posted by John Rakestraw on August 16, 2008
Posted in: birding philosophy. Tagged: . 1 comment

It’s hot. There is nothing unusual about this, being mid-August and all. And in a few days it will be cool and cloudy, if you can believe the forecast. But for now, it is hot and I am inside, where the temperature is a tolerable 77 degrees F.

I have felt a little anxious about not going birding this weekend. If I don’t get out at least once a week, I feel restless and a bit cranky. Oddly enough, I have also felt a little guilty. I am a birder. There are several species I have not seen. There are many species I would enjoy seeing again. I should go look for them.

It’s not like I haven’t been busy. I have hauled gravel for the parking lot, bought groceries, sang with the Oregon Chorale, had a dinner meeting, watched four episodes of Battlestar Galactica, and made a mean batch of aloo matter. And if I had had a client this weekend, I would be out there sweating away and finding lots of neat birds. But I choose to stay at home and forgo my birding needs.

And that’s OK. We need to remind ourselves that our pastimes are not all that we are. Sometimes life presents other opportunities or just gets in the way. We need to allow this. Occasionally, just every now and then, we need to remind ourselves that it is just a ball game, or just a science fiction series, or (dare I say it?) just a bird.

So I will venture forth again next week, when the weather is cooler and the birds are challenging me to find the vagrant among them. In the meantime, I will enjoy the Lesser Goldfinches at the feeders and the Rufous Hummingbird in the garden.

Of Birding, Computer Pinball, and Insanity

Posted by John Rakestraw on July 1, 2008
Posted in: birding philosophy. Tagged: , , . 1 comment

Before shutting down my computer for the night, I sometimes play the video pinball game that came with the machine. Typically, I score about 400,000 points. On rare occasions, I have scored around 4 million points, through no skill or knowledge of my own. Last night, I scored 8,166,000 points, again, through no control on my part.

And what does this have to do with birding? The experience was actually amazingly similar. How many times have you walked through the same patch of woods looking for a bird you haven’t seen before? Experience tells you what species are likely to be at that location, just as experience tells me what my pinball score will likely be. But you keep hoping for something different, and sometimes, you get lucky.

Einstein defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. But that is exactly what birders do. We cover the same birding sites over and over, year after year, hoping for something different. It is that hope that keeps us going. If we accepted the likelihood that each trip to a given site will produce the same species, we would be less likely to go into the field. It is the insanity of expecting something different that makes birding such a joy.


I approached this nest box at Hart Mountain with the expectation, or at least hope, of finding a Flamulated Owl. Instead, this large nest box was occupied by a pair of Mountain Chickadees.


Pelagic birding is the epitome of insanity. You cover hundreds of square miles of open ocean, hoping to run across a rare bird that just happens to be at the same spot you are. Here are two Laysan Albatrosses swimming with the abundant Black-footed Albatrosses off the Oregon coast.

Am I insane for engaging in this hobby/sport/avocation/obsession that we know as birding? Heck yes, and loving it.