Archive for May, 2009
MEGA: Fan-tailed Warbler in New Mexico
Posted by: | CommentsThe Fan-tailed Warbler discovered yesterday morning at the Melrose Migrant Trap in Roosevelt Co., New Mexico, is still being seen today. Matt Baumann has very kindly allowed us to post a photo of the bird at The Wingbeat.
Besides being a supremely cool-looking bird, Fan-tailed Warbler (no longer to be confused with Zitting Cisticola) has an honored place in the history of North American birding: the antics of this species provide a leitmotif in George Sutton’s First Impressions, the book that in many ways stands at the beginning of birding in Mexico.
Black-capped Gnatcatcher
Posted by: | CommentsRemember when Black-capped Gnatcatcher was a big deal, red-letter news, Birding-back-cover material? It’s still a great bird anywhere north of the Mexican border, but the past several years have seen the apparent establishment of what was for nearly 30 years a first-rate rarity here in southeast Arizona.
Nubs and I had almost given up last Saturday morning when we heard the whining chatter of a singing gnatcatcher in an oak tree overhead. As we watched, the bird–a fine black-capped male–decided that he was hungry, and came down to forage at eye level just a few feet away.
There wasn’t much doubt about his identity, of course, with that jet-black stocking cap, and he even gave us a few loud buzzing meows for good measure. And patience and good fortune–the birder’s two best friends–led us to great views of the tail formula, with the outermost rectrix considerably shorter than the next one in.
Yes, I wish I’d taken that picture on purpose, but gift horses and gnatcatchers….
With places to go and more–many, many more–birds to see, we stayed with this beauty for only about 15 minutes. During that time there was no sign of a female, and as we left we extended to these hardy little colonists the wish that she be sitting on eggs, ready to give southeast Arizona a few more Black-capped Gnatcatchers.
MEGA-ish: Crescent-chested Warbler in Arizona
Posted by: | CommentsA Crescent-chested Warbler was reported yesterday from the Chiricahua Mountains.
This beautiful tropical parulid–a bit like a cross between a Tennessee Warbler and a Northern Parula–has become more common, or at least more commonly detected, in Arizona over the past several years, with an apparent breeding record from higher up in the Chiricahuas a couple of summers ago. Last week at the IOU meeting, I predicted that this species would become the Rufous-capped Warbler of the next decade, and so far, I seem to be right. Even a blind hog….
Finding this bird, if it lingers, can be made easier by learning the song: a high-pitched, thin, buzzy trill on one pitch (which I guess would be a tremolo, not a trill). It’s notoriously insect-like–without sounding particularly like any specific insect.
‘Napping Turtle
Posted by: | CommentsNo less formidable creature would dare to be as ugly as a snapping turtle.
But I’m not going to point that out, not even to this little one, caught napping in Fontenelle Forest, Nebraska, last week.
There are certain traditional phrases that are obligatory whenever you talk about these strong turtles. They’re always “as big as a washtub,” and they can always “snap a broomstick clear in two.” There are some big ones out there, but somehow I suspect that the thick handles of household implements have little to fear even from them.
Oak Birds
Posted by: | CommentsSaturday’s NAMC took us up into the low-elevation oaks of Black Mountain–too low, and probably too isolated, for most of the classic Sky Island quercophiles, but still host to birds like Western (Woodhouse’s) Scrub-Jay.
We often think of this taxon as the “dull” scrub-jay, and I suppose they do pale, literally, in comparison with the birds of the Pacific coast; but those blue wings and tail, and even their creaky calls, liven up the desert oaks on a hot morning.
And then of course there’s ornithology’s gift to the limerick writers, the Bushtit.
Bushtits are generally impossible to count as they fuss chaotically through the foliage, but the species has the obliging habit of leaving the foliage single file when it comes time to fly to the next tree. And so we stood and watched until 14 of the little sprites had made the perilous 10-foot crossing to their new hunting grounds.
