Several people asked for trip results, which Sandy recently provided to Karen, Norm and me and asked us to share with all of you. His narrative (long, but written like a short story) is first, followed by the trip list.
ATLA Birding Passion Group 20th Anniversary Outing Denver 2015 (June 18)
"I've got one of your target birds in the scope."
Thus began the 2015 "meeting" of the ATLA Birding Passion Group. It was a milestone of sorts. Twenty years ago, almost to the day-in fact, it was the last time that Denver hosted the ATLA conference-a local birder had taken Lynn Berg and me on a tour of Red Rocks Park. Lynn saw her first Black-billed Magpie, and I saw my first Virginia's Warbler.
The bird in the scope turned out to be a Western Scrub-Jay, and it was a "lifer" for most of us. The "us" being Lynn Berg, Karla Grafton, Ann Heinrichs, Myka Kennedy Stephens, Ondrea Murphy, Bethany O'Shea, and I. We were birding Castlewood Canyon State Park, which lies 28 miles south of Denver. Our hosts were Karen Metz a retired academic librarian and the owner of the telescope; Amy Cervene, a public librarian and the point person of the hosting group; and Norm Lewis, a retired real estate agent who leads birding tours throughout the state. I'd previously "met"-all of them through the "Cobirds" discussion list.
Next to show itself was a male Mountain Bluebird, resplendent in pale blue, that posed for us on a fence post. "Hear that? Wild Turkeys!" said Amy. Just then, a bird began to sing over the gobbling. It sounded like a robin on speed-Black-headed Grosbeak, and there it was, perched in the open on a bare branch. "Raptor! No, Great Blue Heron!" someone called, as the huge bird lumbered low over the parking lot. A Mourning Dove perched on a distant branch, Violet-green Swallows circled overhead, and then a buzzzz announced the passage of a male Broad-tailed Hummingbird.
We were tempted just to stay in the parking lot, but the scrub oak and ponderosa pine habitat below us promised new species. And quickly delivered a Spotted Towhee perched in a treetop and singing its jingling song at full volume. A Common Raven and an American Crow flew past. "LEGO," said Karen, and then quickly explained that that was the four-letter banding code-a sort of bird-bander shorthand-for the tiny bright yellow black-backed bird perched low in a bush about 10 meters away: Lesser Goldfinch. Our hosts tossed around a few more banding codes: AMRO (American Robin), MODO (Mourning Dove). "We also have the green-backed subspecies of Lesser Goldfinch here," said Norm. Prophetically, as it turned out, for we found one minutes later. Then another goldfinch displayed for us, this one had black wings and crown on an otherwise bright yellow body-the closely-related American Goldfinch.
"What's that bird?" Ann wondered aloud.
"I was trying to make it into something more exotic, but it's a female American Robin," said Norm. "Listen to the male sing," called Karen, "when I was in Jasper Park we heard one that had added Baltimore Oriole notes to its song-and it ended up beating out its rivals and breeding with the female!"
Soon we were being serenaded by at least two House Wrens. This was soon interrupted by a squeaky whistle from the tree-tops that disclosed a pair of Brown-headed Cowbirds. "White-throated Swifts!" It was Karen again, rejoicing that there were any swifts left after the late frost that had killed off many of them in May. "Some say they have a 'twinkling' flight," said Norm-and they certainly made the swallows they were flying with look lethargic.
"Pee-ur!" The bird had been calling mournfully for a while, and now it was perched on a dead branch right in front of us, right where we'd seen a Hairy Woodpecker minutes before. "See how it sallies after flies and then returns to its perch; that's typical behavior for the Western Wood-Pewee," said Norm. "And for most flycatchers," added Karen. Then came the two-note call of a Mountain Chickadee, the "yank" of a Pygmy Nuthatch, and the burry song of the Plumbeous Vireo; but no one got good looks at them.
What we did see, though, was a couple of dozen Turkey Vultures sunning themselves on the rocks below the escarpment about 150 meters away. "How pretty!" said Ann. "I think they'd be touched to hear you say that," Norm responded. The birds slowly began to lift off to take advantage of the updrafts along the cliff face. On a nearby snag sat a Steller's Jay, looking black against the sun and with its crest clearly visible.
A Warbling Vireo began to sing, or rather to lecture, given the insistence of its tone, but there was no point in trying to find it: like most vireos it'll sing all day from a hidden perch. No matter, a delicate bird with a blue back and a rusty breast flew into a pine and then perched briefly on the ground-Western Bluebird, a species high on our list of target birds.
"Canyon Wren, but it's singing very softly," said Amy. Softly indeed. She had to point it out three times before I heard it. Too bad that its slow, descending, haunting song wasn't echoing loudly among the boulders below the cliff face, as it often does. "Cliff Swallows," called Karen, and we looked up and saw about 50 of them circling overhead. Also circling overhead were the vultures. "There's something else with them-Cooper's Hawk-no, look at the black primaries; it's a second-year Swainson's Hawk, looking very pale." Also among the soaring mix was a couple of Red-tailed Hawks hanging motionless against the wind-kiting, it's called-the better to survey the ground below them for prey.
Soon after, Karen, who regularly birds the park, found us a pair of Western Tanagers. We'd heard a number of them sing their robin-with-a-sore-throat song high in the pines, but this was the first glimpse we'd had of them. And glimpse it was, just two yellow and black streaks descending from a branch. No sign of the red crown, unfortunately.
I heard a sweet three-note call and called out "Black-capped Chickadee." "Oh, you mean that 'cheeseburger' song?" said Norm. This is one of the many mnemonics we birders have come up with to identify bird songs. I couldn't resist mentioning my favorite, the one for White-crowned Sparrow: "I gotta go wee-wee now."
We decided to head to Cherry Creek Falls, which we could hear in the ravine below. A Gray Catbird sang from cover as we made our way down the trail. This master mimic sings rapid, chattering "cover versions" of songs it's learned from its neighbors. In the sandy sides of the ravine we could see the nest holes of the Cliff Swallows. And then Karen pointed out a Rock Squirrel (a "life mammal" for me) sitting in front of its burrow. A Cordilleran Flycatcher vocalized briefly; it's a member of a family of flycatchers whose individual species can be reliably distinguished only by voice, so seeing it wasn't a big concern.
On our way back to the parking lot we heard another vireo singing-"Here I am, where are you?" Again, like most vireos, it was so well hidden that it was impossible to tell where "here" was. But the song gave it away: Red-eyed Vireo. A few more steps and we stopped in our tracks: there was a female Pine Siskin, a heavily-streaked drab little finch, gathering thistle down for its nest, wisp by wisp, until it had a puffy bill-full.
We decided that we had time for a brief walk down one last trail, for a final shot at Lazuli Bunting, one of our main targets. Amy quickly found, not the bunting, but a very uncooperative and skittish pair of Blue-Gray Gnatcatchers. Then a Belted Kingfisher (BEKI to a bird bander) flew over and gave its rattling call. By then it was almost 9:00, time to take some group photos so that we could return to the hotel by 10:00. "Lazuli Bunting!" cried Karen, and there it was, perched on a dead branch, singing its squeaky song and displaying its blue head, orange breast, and white belly for the world to see.
A fitting conclusion to a successful outing during which we'd covered 3.7 km., walked nearly 4,000 steps, and seen or heard 44 species. As we pulled into the hotel parking lot, Ann declared that she'd have just enough time to have a shower and put on her librarian clothes. "Don't tell anyone," said Myka, "but I'll probably be compiling my list during the first session."
Birds We Saw or Heard
- European Starling
- American Magpie
- Western Scrub-Jay
- Mountain Bluebird
- Great Blue Heron
- Black-headed Grosbeak
- Western Wood-Pewee
- Spotted Towhee
- Mourning Dove
- Violet-Green Swallow
- Lesser Goldfinch
- American Crow
- Common Raven
- Broad-tailed Hummingbird
- American Robin
- Brown-headed Cowbird
- White-throated Swift
- House Wren
- American Goldfinch
- Wild Turkey
- Plumbeous Vireo
- Hairy Woodpecker
- Yellow Warbler
- Pygmy Nuthatch
- Turkey Vulture
- Warbling Vireo
- Western Tanager
- Chipping Sparrow
- Cliff Swallow
- Western Bluebird
- Steller's Jay
- Mountain Chickadee
- Gray Catbird
- Song Sparrow
- Red-tailed Hawk
- Swainson's Hawk
- Canyon Wren
- Cordilleran Flycatcher
- Red-eyed Vireo
- Pine Siskin
- Black-capped Chickadee
- Belted Kingfisher
- Blue-gray Gnatcatcher
- Lazuli Bunting
Mammals
- Mule Deer (with twin fawns that must've been just weeks old)
- Rock Squirrel
- Submitted by Sandy Ayer
You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "Colorado Birds" group.
To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to cobirds+unsubscribe@googlegroups.com.
To post to this group, send email to cobirds@googlegroups.com.
To view this discussion on the web visit https://groups.google.com/d/msgid/cobirds/CA%2BJWw_%2Bb39R-XiEfSkciJvP9KNXRdSxu5gaQVLxqCxrXRvjg_g%40mail.gmail.com.
For more options, visit https://groups.google.com/d/optout.
No comments:
Post a Comment