Bird Call

Welcome to Bird-Call

A bird blog with a fresh point of view to brighten your day.

One bird at a time. :)

A light hearted blog for birders and those who don't know they're birders. Yet. :)

 Doing my part with fluorescent eco-friendly binos.

 

Photos, original perspectives, and maybe a fact or two when you aren't looking.  

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Yellow-breasted Chat etc.

Some birds get named after somebody. Some for a place. Some for their song. This bird chats. And whistles. And hoots. and churrrs. And so on. Of course they couldn’t call it a “Yellow-breasted Whistle-hoot-churrr-chat- etcetera-etcetera.”  Too Bad. :)

Fitting description. They’re goofballs. Disregarding DNA, I don’t see how anyone thinks they’re warblers. : ) Warblers are no nonsense. Busy. Efficient. Tight. Acrobatic. Tiny. Chats are not.

Their flight can be downright comical. Drooped wings, tail pumping. Like they’re making fun of other birds. They don’t want to work. They just want to sing all day.

So everyone says they are more often heard than seen. True. They are master skulkers. You’d think the yellow would give them away. Nope. They find a tree with a few yellow leaves and tuck in somewhere. Good luck seeing them.

   Chat Skulking :)

See what I mean?

But the real reason is they have a secret weapon. They throw their voice (or whatever birds have). A lot. And far. And all the time. So if you are looking for one: triangulate. : )

And after you know which direction it is you still have to figure out how far. It’s tough. You hear a whistle. It sounds ten feet in the bushes. But don’t get excited. It’s not there. Far off a churr. Next a hoot fifty feet to the right. Good grief.  

You can go nuts looking for this bird.

I wish I could share the experience.  : )  

Maybe this will help. It’s the best I could do. :)

   “Ott!                                                                                                                                               

                                                           Chatt.

                                                                                     Churrrrrrrr. 

           Whoo-eeeet. Whoo-eeeet. Whoo-eeeet.

                                                                       Whup!Whup!”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

     Click photo

Aberrant Warbler

One word describes this bird. No. Not yellow.

“Controversial.”

In bird world.

It’s a wood warbler.  Or…maybe not. Experts debate. Field guides call it one. But maybe they just don’t know what else to do with it.

It’s colored like a warbler. But it’s too big. Too loud. Too…everything.

It’s closer to tropical tanagers. (Some ornithologists say.)

Eastern Kentucky U did a study. Thorough. Scholarly. I didn’t understand a word of it. Except the last sentence: “Our results support a growing body of evidence that [they] are not allied [to warblers].”  Doesn’t get a lot plainer than that. [Except for the brackets.] : )

Then what is it? DNA studies say it’s closer to a meadowlark.

“Wait a minute,” say the warbler people. They have their own DNA study. And it may just be a warbler after all.

But then birders weigh in. It mimics. Like a mockingbird.  Warblers don’t mimic. Maybe a thrush.

It’s a cool bird. But it sure stirs up the birding crowd.

 

So. What can we learn from all this debate?

Well to tell the truth it doesn’t resolve anything about the bird.

But it sure says a lot about us birders. : )

 

P.S. Slump’s over.  : )

Distinguishing Marks: Very distinctive. Yellow and white front. White specs. Looks masked. Skulks. Says, "Hey! You guys! Look-up-here! Look-up-here!"  But you'll be  lucky to see him. :)

Skid continues

I'm still in a slump. That’s not good for the blog. But I’m not ready for Wilsonville just yet. It’s a long ways. Besides I feel my luck changing. I need a short term strategy. And I know just what to do.

Stall.

So.... 

Here is some good advice you won’t hear from Nat Geo.

Ten Must-read Tips for Bird Photographers

1)    Plan ahead. Bird photography is all about logistics.

 

 

2)    Learn to recognize plants as well as birds.

 

 

3)    If you're always looking up for birds take someone along who always looks down.

 

 

4)    Don't set your tripod up on the smooth part of the bike trail.

 

 

5)    If you are not experienced climbing through barbed wire with a camera, find a gate.

 

 

6)    Do not wear shorts and flip flops to photograph desert birds.

 

 

 

7)    Be mindful of other creatures in the woods.

 

 

 

8)    Leave bird blinds and cold weather to the pros. A bird on a picnic table is still a bird.

 

9)    It’s not cool to wear your camera bag over one shoulder. But it's handy. :)

 

And last but not least:

10)   Average photos can be improved with Photo Shop. Good luck with that.

(Fine print: I did not take the skunk photo.)

 

 

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Wilsonville Slugger

I’m in a slump. A photo slump. I haven’t had a good photography outing since the river trip.

If I find birds? It’s too cloudy. Find some sun? No birds. Find new birds? They’re ninety feet up. Visit old haunts? Same old birds . Chase a rare one?  Too late.  I know I shouldn’t whine. But I’m just so darn good at it.  : )

I know how slumping baseball players feel when nothing works. It’s Tough. Poor outings. Shutouts. What should I do? Relax and forget about it? Take extra batting practice?  Throw my helmet?

One thing’s for sure. I'm not just going to sit in the dugout and play cards.

Last time this happened I found a solution. Wilsonville Oregon. And if things don’t get better soon, I’m going back.

There are easy targets. I know where to find them. They don’t fly off either. Not too high. Not too low. Just right.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chestnut-backed Chickadee

  Canada Goose

Steller's Jay

See? Easy.

Like T-ball. For birders. : )

Living on the edge

A friendly old couple stopped me near a rocky shore where I was birding in San Diego. They said they had found an injured penguin nearby a few days before. And of course I responded, “Uhhhh….”

They took it to SeaWorld. And a nice girl there told them it was not a penguin. But they couldn’t remember what she told them. Would I have some idea what it was?

I did.

A Flying football. : )  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They kind of look like penguins. So easy mistake to make (once you get past the fact it’s 8600 miles to Antarctica). They even act a little like them. They dive and chase fish sometimes to 300 feet. They’re not related.

But they are interesting. When it’s time to nest they find a suitably uncomfortable and crowded spot for the female to lay one egg directly on the rock. Usually on a ledge. Waaay up there. The egg is sort of cone shaped. When pushed it rolls in a tight circle. This helps keep it on the ledge. But they don’t take any chances. One usually stands on the outside of the ledge.  Between it and the sea--1000 feet below!  As the young bird develops both parents help.

But when he’s a couple weeks old the father swims back and forth calling from below.

Without true flight feathers but true faith the youngster tumble-glides to the water. After that Dad takes care of him--usually for a month or two--while he learns to dive for fish and fend for himself.

I hate sounding sexist. But you have to admit. In the end it’s always the male that’s left to handle these things.  I know it was that way in our family. Just like with this bird. Dad was always the one who wound up teaching the kids to fish. :)

 

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Photos, Video: This Colony Of Little Fairy Penguins Now Lives In The Bronx

Bird-nerd-word of the day: Aspergillosis

Aspergillosis [as-per-juh-low-sis] is a condition in birds, especially ducks and geese, caused by the aspergillus mold. It usually does not seriously affect healthy birds. Just those with weakened immune systems. It's an odd sounding word but a serious subject. For that reason I’ll resist making light of bird Aspergillosis.

Even though the sound of it is really quite atrocious.  : )

Black-capped Chickadee

  Click to enlarge

The Black-capped Chickadees you see at your feeder this spring should be congratulated. They survived the winter. It wasn’t easy. They don’t migrate. They tough it out in the northern states where they live. No matter how cold.

People have asked me, “How do they keep warm?” Well they don’t. They survive.  They fluff their feathers. Shiver. And sit on their feet. But they’re cold.

Click to enlarge

Just not freezing takes a lot of energy. And that means food.

Lucky for them, they have the trick of growing their brain in the fall. It may make all the difference. They can remember where they stored food. And another amazing thing? They count calories. : )  They know when they will use more energy foraging than it’s worth. So they stay put.

It’s a tough go.

Then of course there are the very few that do manage to stay warm. For a while.

Inside Home Depot. : )

 

 

Memory

The Bill Williams River felt wild and adventurous (but wasn’t really). Narrow, shallow and a little hard to navigate. Quiet. Still. And dark. And so hemmed in by tamarisk trees and willows it was completely cut off from the land around it. Not too many people venture up there.

There were lots of birds and I’m sure I had something interesting and clever to say about them.

But I forget.

It seems that happens more all the time. I can’t remember bird names like I used to. Or bird facts. I fumble for words. And after a day or two they pop up uninvited. Random. Aggravating.

But I think I’m onto something. This bird is a good example.

He can hide hundreds of seeds in the fall. Over a large area. Under tree bark. In the ground. Under shingles. And still remember where he put them all winter. Lehigh University is doing research on this bird and has found that its brain actually grows 30% in the fall when it needs to remember. In spring, when it doesn’t need it anymore the brain shrinks back to normal. That would be helpful.

I’m sure science will someday learn to regrow human brain cells lost during a stroke. Or senior moment. But too late to help me. So I’ve developed my own strategy.

I said I was trying to remember a river story. But couldn’t. And thought I had the solution. And this bird was an example?

How is that when there probably wasn’t one of within 500 miles of Bill Williams River? That’s the point.

From now on when I can’t remember whatever it is I want to talk about, I’m going to talk about whatever it is I can remember. : )

Can't wait to see what it is? Hover here.