Ten Hours in Houston

That title sounds like a bad follow-up to the 80s hit "One Night in Bangkok" by Murray Head.  To put a little context into why I had a layover in the first place, I won a trip to Peru to follow the 2013 Birding Rally Challenge Nor Amazónico and ended up with a lengthy layover in Houston on the way down.  I will tackle the details of the birding rally later because it was a rather epic adventure.

A few days before leaving for Peru, I finally got around to checking if any Houston birders would be willing to pick up a sleepless Canadian fresh off a red-eye for a morning of birding and other natural history goodness.  I must have been in panic mode because I contacted around eight people and the Texan hospitality was overwhelming!  I ended up having six or so birders get back to me saying they would be willing to take me out for some birding, which was amazing!  Dave Dolan mentioned he was already going to be at the airport at around the time of my arrival and that made my decision very easy.  We got the details all squared away, including a couple target birds I was hoping to connect with in the area.

Early in the morning on June 9, I was very worried that Dave might have thought I skipped out on him because I was concerned my checked bag wasn't going to come out.  A lady working at the airport ensured me it would automatically get transferred to my connecting flight, but I was a little skeptical because it contradicted the details I had received when I checked in.  I decided to double-check with the Houston bag lady and she snapped back with "They don't pay me $30 an hour to be wrong."  I decided to wait an extra few minutes and checked with her one last time and she told me to exit the airport.  Alright.  Done.  I got out to the arrivals area and put on my binoculars - the trademark sign you're a birder.  No sign of Dave.  I wandered out among the cars and a voice rang out from behind me, asking "Jeremy?"  Phew!  I was now set to make the best of the layover with Dave as my local guide!

We started by cruising a neighborhood very close to the airport in hopes of finding some Fish Crows.  With windows down and eyes panning all around, we searched for black corvids.  Finally I spotted a couple of black birds on a wire.  We pulled over and waited for one of them to call.  Finally, one tipped its head back and unleashed the classic "Caw, caw, caw" of an American Crow.  Darn... keep moving.  We continued down the road and spotted a few more American Crows along the way.  As we slowly rolled along, Dave spotted a couple of crows in a parking lot so we pulled in and listened.  One of the crows flew up on a lamp post and let out a croaking "Awwp, awwwp, awwp".  Fish Crow!  The crow then descended back to the pavement, picked up a chicken bone and flew off with its mate in tow.  It was beautiful... just how I pictured my lifer Fish Crow.  So majestic!

After the Fish Crow, we were faced with a tough decision.  Should we head to the coast and try to find Seaside Sparrow and King Rail or get into some nice forest and look for Swainson's Warbler?  I was more excited about the latter option, so we headed up to an area near Sam Houston National Forest where Swainson's Warblers are known to hold territories.  We were rather leisurely about the birding, which is somehow starting to be my style.  This is likely due to the fact that I have seen the majority of the bird species in most areas I head to in North America, but there is a whole suite of odonates and butterflies that would be new.  I end up focusing on the more minute critters and birds fall into the background.  I am not sure if Dave knew that's what he was getting himself in to, but he was a great sport.

As we worked our way along the road through refreshingly exotic habitat, the sounds of White-eyed and Red-eyed Vireos, Hooded Warblers, Yellow-billed Cuckoos, Summer Tanagers, Carolina Wrens, Pine Warblers, and Northern Cardinals were rather distracting due to their unfamiliarity to these West Coast ears.  Then Dave picked up on an empid song and exclaimed it was an Acadian Flycatcher.  For whatever reason, I hadn't considered this species even though its breeding range clearly envelopes the area I was birding.  I guess ignorance is my coping mechanism for Empidonax flycatchers.  I worked hard to track down the feathered source of the call and eventually was rewarded with looks at a rather bright olive empid continually giving its "peet-sah" song from dead branches over a swampy channel.  I took a few mosquito bites in the process to make it feel like I really worked for this lifer.

In the end, Swainson's Warbler threw out one brief song and that was it.  I really didn't have much of a chance to even really recognize it, but Dave picked up on it.  Other bird highlights included: a Northern Parula singing away that offered a couple viewing opportunities, a handful of Scissor-tailed Flycatchers in the open country, and a calling Brown-headed Nuthatch.

The odonates were must sparser than I was hoping, but I think that is due to the lack of good water features.  The highlight was a single, absolutely tiny Double-striped Bluet.  The only other two species I noted were Eastern Pondhawk, Ebony Jewelwing, and Blue Dasher.

You can just make out the razor thin extra stripe below the main blue stripe on this Double-striped Bluet

I actually enjoy the female Eastern Pondhawk more than the male because it looks nothing like the same sex of its western counterpart.

This seems to be the most prominent broad-winged damselfly in areas I've been in the east.  The all black wings make Ebony Jewelwing an easily recognizable denizen of slow-moving creeks and rivers.

The butterfly diversity was much more exciting and I encountered several species I have never knowingly seen before. The species I managed to photograph include: White Checkered Skipper, Tropical Checkered Skipper, Yehl Skipper, Clouded Skipper, Northern Broken Dash, Eufala Skipper, Lace-winged Roadside-Skipper, Red-banded Hairstreak, Grey Hairstreak, Carolina Satyr, Silvery Checkerspot, Variegated Fritillary, Red-spotted Purple, and Spicebush Swallowtail.  I also had looks at what may have been a Hayhurst's Scallopwing, but it darted off before I could draw in any details and snap a photo.  Here is a selection of some of the nicer butterfly shots I managed to fire off over the course of the morning.

I was trying to photograph as many butterflies as possible and luckily I fired off this shot of a White Checkered Skipper!

I then noticed this checkered skipper was much paler, so I photographed it and was delighted to find out it was a Tropical Checkered Skipper.

I find these dark brown skipper quite tricky, but I feel confident this little guy is a Eufala Skipper

I didn't know it at the time, but I have encountered this species in Ontario - it's a Northern Broken Dash

I was very worried about figuring this one out, but it wasn't too bad - this is a Yehl Skipper

I imagine the violet-grey dusting of the wings is the source of this skipper's name: Clouded Skipper

I have seen quite a few small satyrs down in the tropics, but the only one I have identified is Little Wood-Satyr in Ontario.  I wondered if this was going to be the same, but it's actually a Carolina Satyr.

I found Silvery Checkerspots to be the most commonly encountered species along the route I birded during my brief visit north of Houston.

This Silvery Checkerspot posed nicely while nectaring, showing off its intricate ventral hindwing pattern

Hairstreaks are one of my favourite groups, so I was happy to find my first ever Red-banded Hairstreak!

I saved this one for last.  I don't like to play favourites, but this one was my favourite - a stunning little Lace-winged Roadside-Skipper.

As a rounded naturalist, I was scrutinizing anything that caught my eye and I have a selection of other nice animals I encountered, ranging from an amazing mosquito right up to a Green Anole.  I wish I had access to this kind of exotic diversity on a daily basis.  I'm not saying that southern Vancouver Island doesn't have exciting fauna to discover, but being in new areas always gives me intense biological ADHD.  Alright... bring on the photos!

Delta Flower Scarab (Trigonopeltastes delta) - how cool is that name for a beetle with a dead obvious triangle on its thorax?

Green Anole (Anolis carolinensis) sitting up on a snag with a fully extended dewlap

This Ocellated Tiger Beetle (Cicindela ocellata) has an awesome stance!

This Striped Bark Scorpion (Centruroides vittatus) was my prize for flipping over some flaked off bark.  The two dark longitudinal lines are diagnostic of this widespread species.

Woodhouse's Toad (Bufo woodhousii) - not definite on the identification of this one, but close enough.

Promachus bastardii - the genus of this species is commonly known as the Giant Robber Flies.

The Elephant Mosquito (Toxorhynchites rutilus) is a large, colourful species of mosquito and I was utterly blown away when I spied it sitting on a leaf!

The time flew by and my allotted break quickly came to an end.  I am extremely grateful to Dave for picking me up at the airport and putting me smack dab in the middle of a naturalist's playground!  I can't wait to make my way back down to Texas and explore the flora and fauna at a leisurely pace!

Saanichton Spit's Sensitive Species

Who doesn't like an alliterative title?  Saanichton Spit is my local gem.  I have been going there to seek out birds ever since I was a kid and I now enjoy it for its locally unique biota.  The base of the spit is on Tsawout First Nation land, while the outer two-thirds is managed by Central Saanich Parks.  The habitat is classified as a coastal dune, which is a very scarce commodity in British Columbia.  Consequently, the spit is a mecca for rare plants and animals.

I am becoming a fan of the visual tour de force approach because pictures really do say a thousand words.  I will, however, interject at one point to line up a bit of a story about a very special sighting.  Without further ado, here are some photos I took during my outing yesterday.

Contorted Pod Evening-Primrose (Camissonia contorta) 

Grey Beach Peavine (Lathyrus littoralis)

Purplish Copper (Lycaena helloides)

Purplish Copper (Lycaena helloides)

Vancouver Island Ringlet (Coenonympha tullia insulana)

Snowy Owl primary feather

Snowy Owl body feathers

Plusia nichollae nectaring on Yellow Sand-Verbena (Abronia latifolia)

Large-headed Sedge (Carex macrocephala)

Beach Bindweed (Calystegia soldanella)

Beach-Carrot (Glehnia littoralis)

Barestem Desert-Parsley (Lomatium nudicaule)

Tree Lupine (Lupinus arborea)

Oblique-lined Tiger Beetle (Cicindela tranquebarica vibex)

Beach Pea (Lathyrus japonicus var. maritimus)

As seen in the photo of the stunning moth Plusia nichollae, Yellow Sand-Verbena is a vibrant nectar source found in the dune community.  In fact, there is one species that relies on it for every aspect of its life history.  The species is Copablepharon fuscum.  That wasn't very helpful, was it?  The common name of the species is the appropriately named Sand-Verbena Moth.  Some moths are exciting because they are intricately patterned, but that is not the case here.  The Sand-Verbena Moth is exciting because it is a rare regional endemic that is known from only ten or so locations in the world.  I learned about this species several years ago and, having a strong interest in endemics and conservation, I really wanted to find one.  My field work schedule seemed to span the majority of the Sand-Verbena Moth's flight period, so I never really had a fair shot at it before.  I wasn't even sure if I had a chance to find it yesterday, but I scoured the larger patches of Yellow Sand-Verbena in hopes of finding nectaring moths.

Yellow Sand-Verbena patch

Yellow Sand-Verbena close-up

As I scanned over patches of sand-verbena, I did see one moth that I thought had a chance at being my holy grail.  Unfortunately, the moth flew off and I lost track of it.  I later saw another intriguing moth that briefly nectared on sand-verbena, but it also flew off before I could get a good look.  I had already been out at the spit for a couple hours, but I decided to put in one last effort around the largest sand-verbena patches again.  It looked like I was going to strike out as I approached the last few patches when I spied a medium-sized, coppery-tan moth nectaring on sand-verbena.  This individual was very cooperative and was actively moving from flower to flower, inflorescence to inflorescence, and even patch to patch.  I took many photos, but most were rubbish.  I'm sorry this will be fairly anticlimactic because the moth is really not showy.  Try to look at this from the natural history side of the picture.  This moth is so finely adapted to the coastal dunes that it is requires Yellow Sand-Verbena for all stages of its life - without the sand-verbena there is no Sand-Verbena Moth.  I find that amazing and I felt privileged to watch this globally rare moth doing what it is highly evolved to do.

The Sand-Verbena Moth was only described in 1995 from Deception Pass State Park

Sand-Verbena Moth with its proboscis fully extended to extract nectar from its sole hostplant

Kamloops Clamber

While traveling between different field projects, I managed to find some time to roam around a couple random hills on the outskirts of Kamloops.  I wasn't really sure where to go, so I just picked a quiet side road to meander my way through to Vernon.  I decided I would head along Barnhartvale Rd., look for non-fenced areas, and finish by checking out Buse Lake.  Rather than get all verbose, I'll just make this more of a visual journey.

Vesper Sparrow

Yellow Gromwell (Lithospermum incisum)

Melissa's Blue (Plebejus melissa)

North American Racer (Coluber constrictor)

Thread-leaved Daisy (Erigeron filifolius)

Linear-leaved Daisy (Erigeron linearis)

Flower beetle on Linear-leaved Daisy

Sculptured Pine Borer (Chalcophora virginiensis)

Short-beaked Agoseris (Agoseris glauca) with syrphid fly

Medium Rare

Well... the birding gods decided I was worthy of a good bird after a fair dry spell.  I have mixed feelings about being away for field work because I am in a part of BC that has great potential for rarities, but I consistently miss all sorts of rarities on my home turf.  My feelings get heavily swayed towards field work when I strike pay dirt, which is exactly what happened yesterday (May 21).

I finished up my bird surveys at around 10 a.m. and put in a couple extra hours looking for amphibians and reptiles, then I decided to attempt to show my field assistant, Alexis, some Bobolinks.  I was surprised to find Bobolinks just outside Edgewood during my first field season in the area four years ago, but I later learned the local birding community was well aware of their presence.  After checking a couple fields and striking out, I decided we would head down Ferret S Rd. (not found on Google Maps, actually) which passes another suite of suitable Bobolink fields.  Eventually we managed to get views of a half-dozen Bobolinks making their amazing, bubbly songs, often as part of an aerial display.  Already reeling from the awe of the Bobolinks, we heard a Long-billed Curlew in the distance and then found a Lewis' Woodpecker in a dead-topped cottonwood near the meandering creek that winds through the area.  In an adjacent cottonwood, I was able to look up and have a Western Tanager, Bullock's Oriole and Western Kingbird in the same field of view.  I would have left a very happy camper at that point, but then the bomb dropped.

As I drove along, I noticed a sparrow flying parallel with the road.  I thought it might be a Clay-coloured and just wanted to confirm that identification.  It was playing coy so I stopped the truck and got out to track it easier.  I eventually got nice looks at what was indeed a Clay-coloured Sparrow.  It landed in a pile of brush at the roadside where I directed Alexis to its location.  As we watched it, a black-and-white bird popped up.  I said "It's a Bobolink!"  We didn't have really close views before, so this was going to be a treat.  The bird was obscured by a few branches, so I took several steps to one side to get a clear shot.  Then I realized the bird didn't have that golden-yellow nape patch that makes a Bobolink so distinct.  It was a male Lark Bunting! That's right... LARK BUNTING!  I dropped some expletives and told Alexis to keep an eye on the bird while I bolted to get my work camera.  I did a 100 metre dash to the truck and back and managed to snap off a few record shots and watch the bird for another half-minute before it flew to a fence post in the field.  As it flew, I noted the nice white corners of the tail.  Fantastic!  This was a bird I had always dreamed of finding in BC!

Bobolink is the only bird you could possibly confuse with a male Lark Bunting... unless you're special and think it's a terrestrial Pigeon Guillemot!

Several features distinguish this Lark Bunting from a Bobolink.  It's not a tricky identification!  Note the lack of a golden-yellow nape, the white is limited to the wings, and the bill is large like a grosbeak and slightly blue-grey.

If anyone happens to see this and is passing through the area and wants to look for the bird, here is a map showing the area:


View Lark Bunting Sighting - May 21, 2013 in a larger map
Surprisingly, Lark Bunting has more than 25 previous records in British Columbia!  I thought this sighting was comparable to my 2009 sightings of Northern Parula and Chestnut-collared Longspur during the same project, but those two have fewer than 20 records apiece.  Regardless of such tedious and unnecessary comparisons, this medium rare bird sure added a little spice to an already amazing day!  What else is out there waiting for someone to find?!?

Migrant Worker

This weekend I was out searching for migrants and was actually relatively successful!  In my last post, I was griping about the lack of results I was getting while scanning the fields and hilltops for Mountain Bluebirds, Townsend's Solitaires, and Say's Phoebes.  I was eagerly awaiting the arrival of shorebirds on the flooded fields and couldn't wait for the next wave of spring arrivals.  That time has arrived!

I must admit, after writing that post I went out the next day and had a bird I was quite pleased to encounter.  I spent a few hours out with Jeremy K. and we started at Summit Park.  Before he arrived, I booked around the northern half of the park and lucked out with my first Chipping Sparrow of the year.  When Jeremy K. arrived, we were walking around the reservoir and I picked up on a familiar song.  It's wasn't familiar from a Victoria standpoint, but rather from the work I do in northern Alberta.  It was the song of a White-throated Sparrow and we managed to quickly locate the bird.  It was an immaculate specimen and I had to work a bit to get a shot of it, but it was worth the effort.  I think that sighting was how I got my groove back.  In your face, Stella!

White-throated Sparrows don't get much sweeter than this one!  It was great to hear it belt out its signature "Oh-sweet-Canada-Canada" song.

Alright, now let's get back to this weekend where my groove was in full effect.  Apparently my direction-reading skills were pretty diminished as I did my volunteer Sky Lark census a day early, but my bird-finding skills were going strong.  While circling the Victoria International Airport on Saturday morning, I had two female American Kestrels, an adult Sharp-shinned Hawk, and - the big highlight - a Whimbrel.  The Whimbrel was calling as it flew over and then it doubled back and landed in a recently plowed field along Willingdon Rd.  I was really hoping for a Long-billed Curlew, but a Whimbrel is certainly a good find!

After the survey was over, I made a stop in at Saanichton Spit and kept the trend of interesting birds rolling when I spotted a bulky swallow-like bird overhead.  A quick look through the bins confirmed this all-dark bird was the first reported Purple Martin of the spring in British Columbia.  The only other birds of note there were a lone breeding-plumaged Dunlin, two Greater Yellowlegs, a couple of peeps (presumably Leasts) that I only saw flying, and an American Pipit calling as it flew over.

I decided to drive home by cutting across Central Saanich Rd. and this turned out to be a very good plan!  While passing the rather tantalizing agricultural fields on the west side of the road, I pulled over on a whim, hopped and jumped the ditch, and then scanned the field from the fence.  One skinny, plastic pole out in the middle of the fields appeared to have a bird-like shape on top of it and that object appeared to be blue.  I quickly jumped back over the ditch, grabbed my scope, hopped back over the ditch, checked if the shape was still there, dropped the tripod legs, and finally had the scope focused on the spot.  At that moment I knew what the bluebird of happiness was all about - I was thrilled to see a male Mountain Bluebird after putting in the hours over the last two weeks!  I watched it for a bit and then got distracted by a flock of American Pipits.  When I went to look at the bluebird again, that sky blue scoundrel had given me the slip.  It was nice while it lasted.

I thought I'd hit up the flooded fields and flats around my place in the early afternoon in hopes of more good shorebirds.  I started at Maber Flats where the only shorebirds were two Killdeer and a couple of Greater Yellowlegs.  I moved on to Oldfield Rd. and bumped in to Ed Pellizzon and we played catch up while enjoying an incredible raptor display.  The first raptor was a Cooper's Hawk that I spotted sitting on the ground while walking to meet Ed.  The hawk spotted me and took off with something in its talons.  I just managed to discern that it had taken a European Starling - keep up the good work!  Next, we watched a single immature Bald Eagle circling with a kettle of ravens (I counted approximately 40 at one point).  Shortly after, two Red-tailed Hawks crossed over the flats and we were surprised at how pale one of them appeared.  I am not sure if it's a light-morph Harlan's Red-tailed or a light-morph of our usual Western Red-taileds, but it certainly stood out.  We also tallied a Sharp-shinned passing over and then a Peregrine Falcon made an impressive pass over the flooded fields.  Just before Ed and I parted, we were treated to a return pass from the Sharp-shinned Hawk and this time it was carrying what appeared to be a vole in its talons.

Moving ahead to Sunday, I tried birding out a Ten Mile Point which was not all too exciting.  The best sighting was a pair of Marbled Murrelets - one in breeding plumage and the other still wearing its winter duds.  I also enjoyed a group of cooperative Pine Siskins and managed to snap a close-up shot when one delicately perched on a dead grass stems only a couple metres away.

Pine Siskins are currently here in full force and it's hard to go anywhere without encountering several flocks.

After Ten Mile Point, I then flip-flopped on where to go and ended up putting in half an hour at Mount Tolmie.  I parked in the lot just below the summit and walked out to a viewpoint that looks over the north slope.  I braved the heavy drizzle and scanned the oaks with my bare eyes just hoping for movement.  On cue, a bird crossed the gap and I managed to get my bins on it just in time to see the bird was sporting nice buffy wing bars.  I've filed that field mark in my head as Townsend's Solitaire and when the bird landed, I was able to confirm that's exactly what it was.  I carefully made my way down the slope and managed to get great views and some photos of the solitaire.  What a treat!

This seems to be how I see most of my Townsend's Solitaires locally - they love open, rocky Garry Oak hillsides!

Next weekend I will be heading off to Fort McMurray for work, so hopefully I will have time to take a day off this week that I can dedicate to birding.  I want to hit up Jordan River or even further west in hopes of turning up some interesting migrants.  If it doesn't happen, the next update might come from far afield.

The Lull

It shouldn't feel like we're in a lull, should it?  There is, however, just a hint of a lull in the air.  We had that brilliant wave of warm weather and migrants came rushing in.  It went from a bunch of the resident songbirds starting to warm up their pipes to flashy Yellow-rumped and Orange-crowned Warblers singing all over the place, Rufous Hummingbirds whirring by, and swallows darting over the local water bodies.  We're past that now, it's quite chilly again, and I find myself waiting for the next wave of excitement.

There are a few birds that could bring delight during this lull, but I haven't been into chasing them and I can't seem to find my own.  This is the window that you can find Mountain Bluebirds and Townsend's Solitaires on rocky hilltops, estuaries, or open areas with lots of perches.  Additionally, we're in that blink-and-you-miss-it frame where Say's Phoebes could be found.  I have circumnavigated the airport several times, visited some unconventional hilltops, checked tree farms, and even visited sites that had Mountain Bluebirds a few days earlier, but I still haven't connected with any of them.

Despite my lack of success in the bluebird/solitaire/phoebe department, I have managed to dig out a couple of birds that I am always happy to encounter.  I have checked in on the flooded fields along Oldfield Rd. a couple times in the past week in anticipation of shorebirds rolling in.  I am always greeted by Killdeer, but no yellowlegs or peeps yet.  At this time of year, though, it is always worth sorting through the teal.  Common ("Eurasian") Teal (Anas crecca crecca) is one of the birds I seem to have a knack for finding.  I manage to find at least one every winter or spring at either Maber Flats, Tod Creek Flats, Panama Flats, or along Oldfield Rd.  On April 8th, I had a rather striking male Common Teal flashing its prominent white stripe across its side, which is the result of the lower scapulars being edged in white.

Our local Green-winged Teals (Anas crecca americana) have a vertical white stripe at the shoulder.  On this bird, that mark is absent, but there is an obvious horizontal white stripe that is indicative of a Common Teal.  Other features that point to this being the Eurasian counterpart to our local Green-winged is the courser vermiculations on the flanks, bolder white markings in the facial pattern, and the cream-coloured sliver in front of the vertical black mark near the tail.

I went back to Oldfield yesterday in hopes that the rain had pushed down some shorebirds.  We're still a touch early, but I thought it was worth a shot.  The fields were very quiet so I headed back to the car.  Just as I reached the car, I saw a Common Raven harassing a larger bird.  The combination of the bird's shape and the location threw me off, so I raised my binoculars and immediately noticed a white tail base.  As the bird banked, the wings showed immaculate white flashes.  Picture perfect immature Golden Eagle!  I went to get my camera as I was right beside the car, but the eagle decided to try to shake the raven.  When I reeled around to snap off a couple shots, the Golden Eagle was no longer directly overhead and I had to try to get the shot through the trees.  My manual settings were not ready for the backlighting, so it's really just a record shot of this unexpected beauty!

Even in this underwhelming photo, the white flashes in the wing and size compared to the Common Raven (top) make it easy to tell this is a classic immature Golden Eagle!

So... when is this micro-lull over?  I would say some time in the next week to week and a half.  If you look back through the BCVIBIRDS archives - a very valuable resource - you can see that some of the good shorebirds should start turning up in a week or so.  My fingers are crossed for a self-found Long-billed Curlew or Pacific Golden-Plover, but I am really hoping that someone will turn up a Say's Phoebe.  That is my Victoria nemesis!