Winter Finch Finding in Reno

Purple Finches began showing up in the Reno area around the same time as I did, the winter of 2016. Since I have been living in Reno, the species has been on my radar. However, that has not always been the case for Nevada birders. Prior to 2016, there were fewer than 10 recorded sightings in the state, 7, to be exact. While they are still uncommon to rare in the area, they can usually be found by the careful observer searching the right places at the right times. Most of these places have crab apple trees, which appears to be a favorite food item. As far as we know, Purple Finches are a winter visitor. However, at the time of the Nevada Breeding Bird Atlas, the species was suspected to breed in the Carson Range. This has never been confirmed, and suspicions remain. With sightings as late as May and as early as September in Verdi, one must wonder….

But speculation aside, there are a few field marks to keep in mind. When seeking Purple Finches-- and they are incredibly beautiful, how could you not?!-- Beware identification pitfalls! We do have two other finch species in the area that can look remarkably similar…In this post I will talk about the identification of House, Cassin’s and Purple Finch.

The first step is determining if the bird you are looking at is male or female-type. The reason I say, “female-type”, is that young male House, Cassin’s, and Purple Finches AND adult females are brown and streaky, however adult males of these species have bright red aspects to their plumage.

Male Purple Finch enjoying crab apples at Rancho San Rafael Regional Park, in Reno

Adult males are nice and easy to identify, we’ll start with House Finches. Their slimmer stature, smaller size, and relatively longer tail is often enough to give them away. However, their plumage is different as well; male House Finches are a bright, Crayola-red with obvious brown streaks on their flanks. Male Purple Finches are a deeper, more purpl-ey red than the others, and if they have streaking it is very faint. The distribution of red coloring is different as well. Cassin’s Finches show the boldest red on their forehead, usually an obvious contrasting red patch, and the rest of their plumage tends to be washed lighter red. Purple Finch are more evenly washed red, with deep purple-red hues throughout their face, throat, back, and breast.

House Finch, male. Note the shade of red, like a Crayola crayon, and the brown streaks on the flanks

Cassin’s Finch, male. Note the red is a similar shade to the House Finch, but is concentrated on the forehead, and the belly is washed pink-ish with no streaking.

Purple Finch, male. Note the deeper, raspberry red, similar in distribution to the House Finch but different in hue.

If you are looking at a female-type bird, Purple Finches will likely stand out immediately as larger and bolder than the familiar House Finch; and if not, the face pattern and underpart streaking should give them away. House Finches have messy brown streaking underneath, typically showing fuzzy dark brown streaks on a lighter brown background. Purple Finches have bolder streaking on a whiter background, and Cassin’s Finch have even crisper thin brown streaks on a white background.

House Finches are slightly smaller, slimmer, and longer tailed than either Cassin’s or Purple Finch. Ruling out House Finch is the first step, then a closer look at a few key field marks should identify any female finch. Note the face patterns and streaking of these female finches:

House Finch, female. Note the plain face with no cheek patch, no white eye arcs, blurry brown streaks on a brown breast, and overall cold brown tones

Cassin’s Finch, female. Note the brown cheek patch bordered above and below by paler/white coloring, broken white eye-ring, crisp brown streaks on white breast, and cold brown hue on back

Purple Finch, female. Note greenish-brown hue on back, relatively bold streaking on breast, brown cheek patch bordered by paler/white coloring, with no white around the eye

Once you have ruled out House Finch, based on face pattern and underpart streaking, take a closer look at the eyes. More specifically, the feathers around the eyes: Cassin’s AND Purple Finch both have variably bold white stripes on their face, creating a pattern that outlines their brown cheek patches. However, Cassin’s Finches have broken white eye rings, creating thin eye-arcs, above and below their eyes and Purple Finches do not. Using this combination of field marks should identify any female finch in our area. If the eyes are not particularly visible, look at the breast streaking. the overall coloring of the bird is useful as well. Purple Finches have a greenish cast to their brown plumage, whereas Cassin’s Finches are usually a colder hue of brown. Beware of lighting when assessing these differences. Check out these eye arcs and face patterns on female Cassin’s and Purple Finch:

Cassin’s Finch, female.

Cassin’s Finch female. Note the broken white eye ring, bolder across the top and bottom of eye

Purple Finch, female.

Purple Finch, female. Note the brown feathers go right up the bird’s eye ball, there is no white around the eye at all.

The final clue to consider when puzzling over streaky brown finches, is vocalizations. The post would not be complete without any mention of ear birding! Finch vocalizations are very diverse and impressive, with male Cassin’s and Purple Finch often including mimicry of other species in their songs. However, each species tends to give distinct calls in flight, just after taking off. These calls can sometimes be heard from perched birds as well. The links below go to the MaCaulay Library where you can listen to these recordings.

Happy Finch-finding!

-Ned

House Finch “chirp” calls

MaCaulay Library Recording: ML626707968 by Sam Reitenour, Dona Ana Co, New Mexico. 11/23/2024

Purple Finch “pit” calls

MaCaulay Library Recording: ML625670525 by Scott Ramos, King Co, Washington. 10/31/2024

Cassin’s Finch “tilly up” calls

MaCaulay Library Recording: ML624360857 by Kyle Landstra Multnomah Co, Oregon. 9/30/2024

How to Protect Birds in Your Own Backyard

Nevada’s vast deserts, mountains, and wetlands are home to 495 bird species, from the familiar and abundant Lesser Goldfinch to the uncommon and threatened LeConte’s Thrasher. We all love to see and hear birds, but they also play vital ecological roles:

Sadly, bird populations across Nevada and beyond face many threats. In fact, one study estimates that the bird populations across North America have decreased by approximately 2.9 billion birds—a loss of more than one in four birds—since 1970 (Rosenberg et al, 2019). Some of the threats that cause these declines can seem large and intractable, and people who care about birds may wonder how they can make a difference. The good news is that there are many that ways we, as individuals, can help birds. Responsible cat ownership is a one important example. Free-roaming cats are a common sight around neighborhoods and rural areas. Some of these cats hunt and kill birds, small mammals and reptiles, and this predation can have species-level, community-level, and even ecosystem-level consequences. By keeping their pets indoors, cat owners can help reduce this threat. There are also many ways that we can improve the value of our back (or front!) yards as bird habitat and reduce the dangers to your avian visitors.

A Better Alternative for Cat Owners

Some cats travel farther than one might expect, while others do not wander far at all. Migratory birds such as Rufous Hummingbird and Willow Flycatcher are conservation priority species and share urban and suburban areas with humans and our pets in the spring and fall when they are actively migrating. Responsible pet ownership means more than just caring for your pet’s needs—it also means protecting local wildlife. One easy way to do this is by keeping cats indoors. Many cat owners worry, however, that doing so may interfere with a cat’s “natural” inclination to explore the outdoors. Enclosed cat play areas, often called catios, can solve this dilemma by providing your cat with a secure outdoor area where they can enjoy fresh air, direct sunlight, and the smells and sounds of the outdoors without posing a threat to local wildlife. If you are handy and have a little extra time, you can design and build a catio yourself. You can also purchase designs to follow, or have the whole project designed and constructed by professionals. A catio not only helps birds -- it can also add to the value and attractiveness of your house! The resources listed below can get you started.

Bird-Friendly Backyards

Your options for helping birds don’t stop with catios. By planting native shrubs and trees, installing birdbaths, and avoiding the use of harmful pesticides, bird enthusiasts can attract a variety of species. The resources listed below provide you with some tips and advice . If you have large windows, these can be a collision hazard for birds, so be sure to use decals or other visual clues to let birds know that your window is there. Protecting bird populations requires a collective effort. By making better, more conscientious choices about our pets, our house, and our yards, we can collectively make a difference and create safe spaces for birds and other wildlife.

Additional resources:

Bird Friendly Backyards:

•  https://www.audubon.org/news/how-make-your-yard-bird-friendly-0

• https://www.nwf.org/-/media/PDFs/Garden-for-Wildlife/Gardening-Tips/Bird-Friendly_web

• https://www.allaboutbirds.org/news/why-birds-hit-windows-and-how-you-can-help-prevent-it/

• https://www.fws.gov/library/collections/bird-friendly-home-toolkit

Catios:

• https://www.thecattopia.com/

• https://catiospaces.com/catios-cat-enclosures/cat-behavior-enrichment/build-diy-catio-plan-for-your-cat/

Further reading:

Rosenberg K.V., A. M. Dokter, P. J. Blancher, J. R. Sauer, A. C. Smith, P. A. Smith, J. C. Stanton, A. Panjabi, L. Helft, M. Parr and P. P. Marra. 2019. Decline of the North American avifauna. Science 366 (6461), 120-124. DOI: 10.1126/science.aaw1313. Originally published online September 19, 2019

https://dariuszzdziebk.wpenginepowered.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/10/Bird-Decline-paper_Science-formatted_final.pdf

Pinyon Jay Surveys

Great Basin Bird Observatory has been heavily involved with all things Pinyon Jay of late, and among these many programs, is our first year of statewide Pinyon Jay surveys in Nevada. These surveys began in the early Spring and are scheduled to go through the end of September; surveyors were freezing their tails off in March, and some are still out there beating the heat! This is because Pinyon Jays can begin nest-building as soon as temperatures allow, sometimes as early as February. Nesting is a critical aspect of their life history, and we want to catch as much of it as possible with our surveys. By the fall, they are engaged in another very important behavior—the harvesting of Pinyon Pine nuts! The harvesting of Pinyon Pine nuts is potentially the most critical aspect of their life history, these birds are incredibly dependent on pine nuts. By observing their behavior and habitat use at these critical times of year, we can fill knowledge gaps and inform habitat conservation. This year, I got a chance to do some surveys, here is my ebird report!

Pinyon Juniper woodland in the Clover Mountains, note the hard edge of a treatment zone between PJ and sagebrush in the background. Photo by Ned Bohman

Pinyon Jay with nesting material. Photo by Ned Bohman

This may seem like unlikely Pinyon Jay habitat, but the birds were flying up and down these washes, visiting cache sites in the cliff walls and on the ground. Photo by Ned Bohman

Pinyon Jays use large areas of the landscape for their home range, and these home ranges typically include significant variation in habitat. This is because Pinyon Jays need different habitats for different parts of their annual cycle and life history. In late winter and early spring, they are establishing the flock’s nesting colony site. These are typically at the upper edge of the transition zone between open lands and Pinyon-Juniper woodlands. The specific composition of these open lands varies from region to region, but is typically made up of grasslands or shrub-dominated habitats consisting of sagebrush or blackbrush. Throughout the spring and early summer, the birds will travel from this colony site to caching and foraging locations throughout the flock’s home range, which can be miles from the colony. Caching locations are most commonly found at lower elevations of the home range, as well as on slopes and patches of large bare ground that tend to be free of snow more often in winter. Later in the summer and throughout the fall, the birds move to more densely forested areas of their home range. The Pinyon Pines that compose an important component of these forests are producing ripe nuts at this time of year. These Pine Nuts will be the winter sustenance of the flock. Throughout the coldest months of the year Pinyon Jays sole food sources are caches of these nuts that they have made throughout the preceding autumn.

Adults, encouraging their kids to flee. Photo by Ned Bohman

Because of this fascinating and unique life history, standard survey techniques aren’t the most effective way to survey for Pinyon Jays. The knowledge gaps remaining in their natural history are largely a result of this; and without this knowledge an effective conservation strategy can’t be developed. With a specialized protocol, we hope to fill these in and develop an effective conservation strategy. The protocol for these surveys was developed by the world’s Pinyon Jay experts of the Partners in Flight Pinyon Jay Working Group. These surveys are plot-based area searches on 2.5 kilometer square plots. To complete a survey, the surveyor must spend 3 hours and get within 1000 meters of all points on the plot.

Pinyon Jay fledgling begging. Note the pale yellow inner edge of bill (the gape), and overall gray color. Photo by Ned Bohman

In late May, I got a chance to help out with some of these surveys in southern Nevada. I hit the road from Reno, and got to survey in the Sheep Range and the Clover Mountains. The Sheep Range is on the opposite side of the valley from the Spring Mountains, east of the Corn Creek Visitor Center at Desert National Wildlife Refuge and the Clover Mountains run uniquely east to west, just south of Caliente. Before beginning my Pinyon Jay surveys, I did a few other surveys for other GBBO projects nearby. On these surveys I had my first Pinyon Jay detection of the tour, and also my first of many pseudo-Pinyon Jay detections. In Mount Potosi Canyon, on this same survey every year, I detect 2-5 Pinyon Jays. They are always moving up and down the valley, as if it is an important corridor between key areas of their home range. Perhaps more interesting, the Northern Mockingbirds on this plot were showing a fondness for the uniquely shrill Pinyon Jay fledgling begging calls. Surprisingly, I heard this in every single survey location I travelled to for the remainder of my tour, making positive aural detections a bit of a challenge at times!

My first survey was at approximately 7,000 feet elevation in the Sheep Range, in closed canopy Pinyon-Juniper woodland. I did not expect to see Pinyon Jays on this plot, it didn’t feel like the right time of year for them to be in this habitat, and the fact that I had been to this location a few times before and never seen them also contributed to that sense. However, as they tend to do whenever you think you have them figured out, they proved me wrong! I saw just 4 or 5 birds, likely a family group exploring food resources. They perched at the tops of a few different pines with ripening cones, appeared to check them out, and moved through the area and were gone almost as quickly as they had arrived. While they weren’t extensively using the plot, it was interesting that they were there. Also interesting, and boding well for later in the year, was an abundance of ripening, green cones on a high proportion of the Pinyon Pines in the area. This turned out to be the case for each plot I surveyed this trip.

My successive surveys took me to a number of different areas and habitat types, and it was great to see so many cones at so many different elevations. My next plot in the Sheep Range, had a rather large group of Pinyon Jay families, attended by a couple dozen gray-plumaged fledglings. I could hear them begging from quite the distance, I could tell there were several birds begging, so I did not suspect Mockingbirds, but still had to confirm I was not being pranked. Once I clambered to the top of the ridgeline they were on, and barely caught sight of them, they moved it along to the next ridge.

Pinyon Jay perching briefly as it passed through my plot. Photo by Ned Bohman

These blurry, bright green cones photographed in May will be ripe in August. Photo by Ned Bohman

Once I got over to the Clovers, my surveys took me up a habitat gradient from shrub land to Joshua Tree-Juniper-Pinyon transition zone, to closed canopy Pinyon-Juniper woodland. One plot in the closed canopy woodland had clearings filled with Sagebrush steppe habitat, and evidence of an old tree removal treatment with telltale hard edges. The lower elevation plots did not have Pinyon Jays at this time. I did, however, have Mockingbirds singing Pinyon Jay fledgling begging calls and many other interesting sightings. Some of these included fledgling Rufous-crowned Sparrows and impressively abundant Gray Vireos on multiple plots. The flyover Zone-tailed Hawk probably takes the cake, though. Every spring in southern NV, it’s worth double checking your Turkey Vultures!

Rufous-crowned Sparrow (Adult) photo by Ned Bohman

I did eventually find Pinyon Jays using the higher elevations of the Clover Mountains. I first heard their calls in the distance, and had quite a time catching up to them. When I did finally catch up to them, they were using the cleared Sagebrush habitat and traveling along the edge of the woodland. It appeared that they were traveling from these open areas, to an area at the base of a large hill, surrounded by closed canopy Pinyon-Juniper woodland. It is interesting to note that most of my Pinyon Jay detections were in closed canopy woodland for these surveys in late May.

Pinyon Pine growing at a lower elevation, covered in soon-to-be-ripe cones. Photo by Ned Bohman

I had a brief opportunity for some fall Pinyon Jay surveys last week, and will hopefully have some more over the course of the month. The fall surveys aren’t just for birds—these surveys feature a cone-mapping component, too. As I mentioned previously, the pinyon pine nut is a critical resource to the Pinyon Jay, because of this, GBBO is tracking the productivity of Pinyon Pines across the state. Eventually we hope to be able to discern patterns in pinyon productivity across the landscape. This particular survey took me to the Desatoya Mountains of central Nevada, where I found the pine cones to be far less abundant than in the mountains of southern Nevada, back in May. I also found Pinyon Jays using habitat at a slightly lower elevation. The birds I saw were caching pine nuts on a sparsely vegetated, south-facing hillside. It was almost as if they were selecting an area that has a good chance of being snow-free in the winter months…. It will be interesting to see what the bigger picture is, after we have results from more survey locations! For more information, and all things Pinyon Jay natural history, check out the resources on our Pinyon Jay Conservation HUB: https://pinyon-jay-community-science-gbbo.hub.arcgis.com/pages/resources.

-Ned

Pinyon Juniper woodland at 7000 feet, give or take, Sheep Range. Photo by Ned Bohman

We Have All The Right Ansers, Bird-a-thon 2024

We Have All the Right Ansers started their Bird-a-thon on May 11th at 3:30 AM by owling their way up Spooner Summit, and along the east shore of Lake Tahoe. Despite several stops in promising locations, the only owl we managed to detect was Great Horned Owl. One of the stops did yield the day’s only Common Poorwill, however. We made our way back down the hill, and hit Washoe Lake at daybreak. Clark’s and Western Grebe, Savannah Sparrow, Spotted Sandpiper, ducks of many varieties; with species pouring in, we were off to a good start! Caspian Terns flew over just in time to keep us on schedule, so we headed back across the highway to Davis Creek for the dawn chorus. Though we were slowed a little on the way by neighborhood birds, including Western Bluebird and American Goldfinch, seen while driving. A pit stop for Long-billed Curlew and Willet in the wet fields opposite Washoe Lake was also well worth it. Back at Davis Creek, we added White-headed Woodpecker, Brown Creeper, Calliope Hummingbird, Nashville Warbler, quickly tallying songbirds. Having to call it good with a heard-only MacGillivray’s Warbler, it was time to move on. But, where were the Wilson’s Warblers??

We continued south into Carson City, logging Western Kingbird and Swainson’s Hawk from the highway. A quick stop at the Bentley Heritage trail yielded Vesper and Lark Sparrows. Another quick jog along the Carson River turned up Rock Wren and Wood Duck, but no Golden Eagles at the eponymous open space. With Sage Thrasher and Brewer’s Sparrow seen from the car, we felt off to a strong start! Still heading south, the Carson Valley wetlands produced Tricolored Blackbird and Wilson’s Snipe, as we had hoped. Bald Eagle and Sandhill Crane were in predictable locations, a likely stop just outside of Genoa turned up Virginia Rail and Sora in 5 short minutes. This allowed us to zoom back up to Lake Tahoe, only 30 minutes behind schedule now. Peregrine Falcon at Cave Rock, Red-breasted Sapsucker and Green-tailed Towhee at Spooner Lake. With a longer stop than planned for at the lower Marlette Lake trail, the ghost-like Pileated Woodpecker did not oblige us with a sighting (or sound), but we did have 4 surprise Pine Grosbeak and a few booming Sooty Grouse! But where are the Dusky Flycatchers?

Team member, Paul Hurtado spying the day’s first Anseriformes

Having not done ourselves any favors in terms of the schedule with this stop, we hurried on to Tahoe Meadows. There were White-crowned Sparrows singing on the snowpack, but conditions were not going to allow us to try for Williamson’s Sapsucker or Lincoln’s Sparrow on breeding grounds. Making our way back down the hill, we stopped at Galena Creek, but still couldn’t buy a White-breasted Nuthatch. And where are the Dusky Flycatchers?? One last attempt at Thomas Creek was not particularly productive, but our hearts all leapt when Ben called out Vaux’s Swift, and sure enough 4 whole swifts were swiftly zooming by!

With the morning well behind us, it was time to focus on shorebirds and water birds. Knowing that good mud and certain species were going to be in short supply, we allowed for a quick stop at Damonte Ranch, but there were no Godwits or Dowitchers, of any length bill to be found. A homeowner had graciously given us permission to stop by and try to see a Lawrence’s Goldfinch that had been frequenting their feeder, but alas, the bird did not make an appearance. At this point, we were starting to feel a little unlucky… where are the Wilson’s Warblers? When, just then, a hummingbird zipped in, and perched for just long enough to be identified as a Costa’s Hummingbird! Well that saves us a trip out to Lockwood, and we need all the minutes we can get back!

Having spent as long as we could here, we zipped over to Hidden Valley, and at least the Black-throated Sparrow and Anna’s Hummingbird were in their requisite perches, making this a quick stop. On our way to Verdi, we stopped at Sparks Marina. While there were no gulls out of the ordinary, the continuing Red-breasted Merganser did oblige us with a sighting. Once we got to Verdi, we had our sights set on woodpeckers, Lewis’s and Acorn Woodpeckers had both been seen the day before, but alas, not this day. We had several Purple Finch, but, not to sound ungrateful, where were the Dusky Flycatchers?? Feeling like there ought to be Evening Grosbeak around somewhere, we cruised around town for longer than we should have, but did not manage to turn up any new species. At this point, we knew we were low on migrants, and felt that a stop at Rancho San Rafael could be productive in this department. It was not. Ned heard a Ruby-crowned Kinglet utter a single call note, but couldn’t find it or make it talk again so everyone could hear. At this point, we felt that we were running out of daylight, and still had birds to find in the north valleys. With nothing gained from Rancho, we made a quick pit stop for caffeine (doesn’t everyone need a pick me up around 7 pm?!) and headed for Silver Lake.

We Have All The Right Ansers, developing ground-breaking new techniques for spotting raptors after dark

By this point, a pattern was emerging; the Sanderling that had been present throughout the prior week was nowhere to be seen this day. But we did manage to add Western Sandpiper and Bonaparte’s Gull to the list. With the sun beginning to get low, we had to get to Swan Lake before we lost the light. Once there, we added Canvasback and Bufflehead, but the swarms of Black Terns and Franklin’s Gulls we knew were there, must have been just over the horizon…. We used the last of our light to get over to the Fleetwood drive access point, but did not find anything new here. With the sun fully set, and conditions too dark to identify birds without a light source, we tallied up our list. Over the course of one heck of a day, we managed to list 144 species of bird. Check out this link to see the full list on the eBird trip report. I still have one question, where are the Dusky Flycatchers?

From the archives: The Iron Merlin's Big Day 2020

As we approach the 2024 Nevada Bird-a-thon, our thoughts run to our adventures of Bird-a-thons past. Once upon a time, GBBO’s Bird-a-thon team, The Iron Merlins, set out on May 6th, 2020. The day finished with 128 species of birds, along with some unidentified hummingbirds and peeps, and very few other humans. Birding during these early months of the pandemic had us noticing other people far more than usual, and instead of our usual eagerness to share our sightings with anyone and everyone within hailing distance, we were still in very diligent Social Distancing Mode. The day started at 3 AM at Damonte Ranch wetlands - heavily caffeinated and hoping for some rails calling late at night.  A few Virginia Rails obliged us, and several other species vocalized, including singing Marsh Wrens.  Feeling off to a strong start, we headed off to find some owls, but as we drove up to the Carson Range we realized that the strong winds were going to put a damper on our owling effort.  

Dawn at Galena Creek by Kayla Henry

We followed our route into the Carson Valley, and feeling a little pressed for time decided to skip a few spots, hoping we would have time to get out to Carson Lake in Fallon.  Vesper Sparrows cooperated very nicely at the Bentley-Kirman trail, a singing Lark Sparrow at the west end of Sunrise Pass road was our only one for the day, but Juniper Titmouse eluded us.  Rushing over to Mason Valley, we stopped a few times in the PJ along Highway 395, and enjoyed Western Bluebirds, a flock of 20 Evening Grosbeaks, and a singing Lazuli Bunting from the flowering bitterbrush. We picked up White-throated Swift and (sigh) an unidentified Hummingbird at a quick stop in Wilson Canyon, but no Canyon Wrens.  By the time we got to Mason Valley, it was HOT, the cottonwoods were not jumping with migrants as we might have hoped, and water levels seemed to be much lower than usual. After driving around for a bit we decided we had better head for wetter conditions in Fallon, as those wetlands had been very productive just a week ago. As we drove out of Yerington, a Golden Eagle appeared almost on command, soaring over the mountains just as we were talking about them.  But how did we manage to complete the drive to Fallon without seeing any Horned Larks flying across the highway?

Pine Nut Mountains by Kayla Henry

On our way back in, we were drawn to the wetland and pond complexes of southeast Reno, and finally picked up Northern Pintail.  Our second round at Damonte yielded a Marbled Godwit, but we were still missing some very common species. So we raced across town to Oxbow in search of a Yellow Warbler, but just could not get one to sing for us.  Running low on daylight, we heard a Downy Woodpecker whinny and decided we had better check elsewhere. We booked it to the Mogul bridge for the lingering Hooded Oriole.  As we arrived it was just getting dark, but an American Dipper called and flew under the bridge right as we were crossing, and midway across the bridge we watched a Bullock’s Oriole chase a smaller Hooded Oriole into one of the cottonwoods.  Another few minutes and we spotted the Great Horned Owl on its nest. Still no flashing Yellow Warblers…Just about out of daylight, we thought we might try for that strangely-elusive warbler and maybe Greater Yellowlegs and Wood Duck at Rancho San Rafael. No such luck, but we finally got a Ring-necked Duck.  Then as bats began to emerge from their roosts, we realized we had left our headlamps in the truck, so we decided to call it a day: a long, exhausting, bird-filled, wonderful day … with celebratory burritos awaiting!

Marsh Wrens DO sing in the dark, Damonte Ranch Wetlands by Kayla Henry

Noticing the time, we figured we had better stake out our Dawn Chorus spot.  Galena Creek yielded another 28 species, including a singing Olive-sided Flycatcher and a Western Wood-Pewee, and a few distant humans on another trail.  We spent the morning hitting various spots throughout the Carson Range and along the east shore of Lake Tahoe. Lingering snow prevented some high elevation access, but Spooner Lake was lovely. Here we had our first Wilson’s Warblers, Evening Grosbeaks, and a calling Northern Pygmy-Owl! Perhaps it was the amazing sun-soaked meadows, beautiful weather, and flyover Bald Eagle that set the tone for us needing to make up time throughout the day…But still we managed to go until 10:30 AM before seeing or hearing a single Clark’s Nutcracker…though we had to use the 95% rule since I only saw the shadow of the Nutcracker that Kayla clearly saw fly over. But nonetheless, we felt very successful as this was likely the most potentially crowded place we would be birding all day and we only saw a few distant trail-runners.

Not a Nutcracker in sight (or sound) Spooner Lake by Kayla Henry

As we got to Fallon it became clear that conditions were not significantly wetter here, but the Horned Larks didn’t mind, and kindly cooperated. We managed to turn up Sora and Long-billed Curlew, and scope out some distant kettling Pelicans. Those peeps we flushed while driving just wouldn’t land though... An Ash-throated Flycatcher in the greasewood was a nice surprise, and this ended up being the only location where we saw Northern Mockingbirds. A Sagebrush Sparrow sang in the greasewood, we spotted a Gray Flycatcher, and then we headed off to the next stop. We missed Bufflehead and Lesser Scaup at S-line reservoir, but the Great Egret and Double-crested Cormorant rookeries were enjoyable to watch. No time for Screech-owls, but maybe Soda lake has some Phalarope hanging out? No? Ok- time to race back to Reno to attempt to make up for species missed along the way!

Christmas Bird Count #124

The 124th Christmas Bird Count season just ended, and I was fortunate enough to be able to participate in two different counts! Every year, birders and citizen scientists from around the world gather and volunteer for Christmas Bird Counts. These counts are done in the same locations each year; each count is a 15-mile diameter circle centered around a central location. Volunteers divide this circle up into manageable sections, and set to counting every bird they can find by any means available. The data sheets have options for tallying effort by foot, car, snowmobile/ATV, and even dog sled. Christmas Bird Counts have been running for 124 years, and all of the data is available on the National Audubon Society’s website, for free! Right here: Christmas Bird Count Data! That aspect makes this citizen science tradition a very valuable data set, in addition to being a fun excuse to get together and look for winter birds. Most of the first counts in 1900, were in the eastern United States. Nowadays, there are dozens of counts in most states, and the tradition has spread to other countries too. The world record for a single count circle was set in Ecuador, on the eastern slope of the Andes, with a species count of 531! I doubt they ever tally effort by dog sled there!

This year, I travelled to eastern Nevada to check out what the Elko and Jarbidge counts were all about. OK, I had an idea what they would be like, particularly since I have participated in the Elko count before…The Jarbidge count had a bit of a reputation in my mind. For those of you who are not familiar, Jarbidge is located in the northeastern corner of Nevada, about 50 miles north of Elko. In the summer, you can get to Jarbidge in a bit over an hour from Elko. In the winter, that road is snowed in. Given how far north in the state it is, and all of these logistics, I was ready for some real wintery counting conditions. Especially since last year, the temperature in Elko during that count barely got above 0!

Northern Shrike, December, 2022. Elko, NV
Photo by Ned Bohman

This year, things were a bit different. By this point in the season, conditions had been, and remained rather mild. Once we got into the town of Jarbidge, the locals, all 3 of them, told us that this was an unusually light snow year, thus far. However, we were already tipped off to this fact, we started the day seeing 18 Greater Sage Grouse at a lek site, with at least 10 males actively displaying! Over the course of the count, we counted dozens of Townsend’s Solitaire, many of which were singing. There were flocks of chickadee, kinglet, and nuthatch in the trees; and sparrows, flickers, and robins on the ground. The lekking Sage Grouse was the most unusual sighting of the day, but a robin barely evading a Sharp-shinned Hawk not much larger than itself, was quite a sight. As I was leaving the count area, I saw a Mountain Lion on the side of the road, and as soon as it registered, I had just enough time to watch it take a few steps and disappear into the Juniper!

Hermit Thrush, December, 2023. Jarbidge, NV
Photo by Ned Bohman

Townsend’s Solitaire, Deember, 2023. Elko, NV
Photo by Ned Bohman

The Elko count was much less wild, but nonetheless fun and interesting. At this latitude in the state, species like Say’s Phoebe, American Crow, and Red-winged Blackbird become scarce to absent in the winter. Bewick’s Wren are an unusual find, while Gray-crowned and Black Rosy Finch are expected at feeders. I began my day counting birds at the dump, and to everyone’s disappointment there was not a gull in sight. What there were, were 178 Common Raven and a Merlin chasing 500+ starlings and House Sparrows. My section ran into the Pinyon and Juniper woodland on the south side of town, and I had good luck with Mountain Chickadee, Woodhouse’s Scrub-Jay, and Townsend’s Solitaire. I finished the day in a housing development watching feeders and counted many Dark-eyed Junco, White-crowned Sparrow, and the count’s only Bewick’s Wren! I later heard that someone did, in fact, have dozens of Rosy-Finches visit their feeder.

I thoroughly enjoyed my time birding in a part of the state I don’t get to visit often enough. Not only did I have a great time, but I contributed data to a citizen science database. Christmas Bird Counts are a great way to participate in science, while the data collection is not particularly rigorous, the results can be very useful to researchers. If you are interested in participating, there is probably a count hear you. For a list of locations in northern Nevada, see the Lahontan Audubon Society’s website: https://www.nevadaaudubon.org/birding-news/christmas-bird-counts-2023. For southern Nevada check in with Red Rock Audubon at: https://www.redrockaudubon.com/event/list. These are all subject to change every year based on volunteer availability, so be sure to check in with your local Audubon Chapter.  One hundred years of counting produces a lot of data, and with time spans like this covered, the data can be useful to look at trends of abundance and diversity. For more info check out this interview with Audubon scientists about how they use the data: https://www.audubon.org/news/inside-data-factory.

You can also read an abstract of a study they published here: https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/gcb.16063!

Looking back at 2021 continued: Owens Valley, Crescent Dunes, & Species Shifts

Owen’s Valley, CA. May, 2023

Owens Valley Program

Kelly and Kayla run the Owens River program, and tag-teamed for this update!

In spring 2021, GBBO began a three-year monitoring effort on the Owens River on Southwestern Willow Flycatchers (SWFL), Yellow-billed Cuckoo, Least Bell’s Vireos, and other riparian obligate species. Despite drought conditions, partners from Southern Sierra Research station detected over 100 SWFL territories using call playback. SWFL nests were also monitored for success and parasitism – 11 nests were found on 10 territories. While at least 6 of these were parasitized by Brown-headed Cowbirds, they produced at least 13 fledglings.

We were also joined by Murrelet Halterman, who conducted Yellow-billed Cuckoo surveys in the area. Two cuckoos were detected (one was an incidental), though neither was thought to be territorial. No Bell’s Vireo were recorded during point counts, but we recorded 92 species along 10 point count transects. We look forward to surveying again this spring!

Nest with decoy egg

Willow Flycatcher nest with eggs and nestling

Kayla added: These surveys are no joke and had us crawling through thick willow, wild rose, and stinging nettle all while hoping our rubber boots were tall enough to avoid wet feet. A fun encounter in one of the most densely forested parts of the riparian corridor was coming face to face with a Northern Saw-whet Owl (no photo, but an extremely cool sighting)! One of the interesting things we learned during Willow Flycatcher nest monitoring was to replace any Brown-headed Cowbird eggs found with decoy eggs. One of the reasons for using the decoy egg is to trick the SWFL parents into thinking that nothing has changed. If they notice fewer eggs in the nest, they may think the nest has been parasitized and abandon it. Another fun fact is if a cowbird lays an egg in a nest before a SWFL does, the SWFL may realize there is a foreign egg or object in the nest, prompting them to build another bottom layer to the nest covering the egg. This way, the cowbird egg won’t hatch. Overall, this was an exciting project and the awe-inspiring sunrises and sunsets of the eastern Sierras never got old. Though the days had their challenges, monitoring SWFL nests was extremely rewarding. Plus we had some adorable field dogs to keep us company and made the most of our time working in and around Bishop!

Monitoring Renewable Energy Facilities

GBBO continues to monitor the impacts of renewable energy facilities in on birds and bats by conducting ongoing standardized mortality surveys. In the Altamont Wind Energy Area of California, our teams are working on two sites to perform these surveys using highly trained dogs that locate mortalities by scent. At the Crescent Dunes Solar Facility near Tonopah, human survey teams perform the searches. These efforts are critical in understanding and minimizing any negative effects of renewable energy production on birds and bats.

Crescent Dunes Solar Facility, Tonopah, NV

- John

Species Range Shifts

I think everyone is going to talk about how hot and dry 2021 was. Every year there are seasonal differences, but the ones I saw this year were some of the starkest I’ve ever observed. Rather than gloom and doom the place up, how about a less direct discussion of these changes!

In early 2021, many birders are aware, that the northernmost nesting attempt of LeConte’s Thrasher was documented, rather thoroughly by a few researchers. This nesting effort was ultimately unsuccessful, but suggests several important things. The species has not necessarily been extensively studied, but those who have spent considerable time with them all note that they are not exceptional flyers, and do not disperse particularly far. This nesting site was some 200 miles north of the closest previously known nesting location. For a bird that is not described as a particularly strong flyer, that is a pretty impressive distance for not 1, but 2, birds of opposite sexes to travel and find each other. Jay Sheppard’s recent book, The Biology of a Desert Apparition: LeConte’s Thrasher. It seems likely that these guys are making smaller leaps, finding suitable habitat along the way, and making their way north. If only birding the salt desert were more exciting, we could get some more eyes out there…

Another notable recent bird sighting is a 2nd record for NV. The Barred Owl is expanding south through the Sierra Nevada, and before that, the Cascades, and before that, west through the boreal shield. This pattern suggests we are likely to see more of them in Nevada. While the specific reasons for both of these phenomenon are the grounds of much speculation, it is nonetheless interesting to note we are seeing some species coming south, and some coming north, of their expected ranges. Nevada is a large state that covers a lot of habitat, and as such, we are uniquely situated at the fringes of many species’ ranges. In my mind, this makes Nevada an extremely interesting place to pay attention to the birds, as we see changes in climate such as those observed in the 2021 field season.

-Ned

Barred Owl at Fly Ranch, Ned Bohman

Looking Back at 2021: the Nevada Bird Count & IMBCR programs

Wow, how time is flying!  Our 2022 field work is now well underway.  We had a very successful 2021, and are bringing those experiences to the current year!  So we will be sharing a short series of blogposts to talk about what we were working on last year, and some of the highlights and maybe a few lessons learned.

I’ll start off talking about our Nevada Bird Count/IMBCR (Integrated Monitoring of Bird Conservation Regions) crew/projects.  It’s probably not a surprise to anyone, but man, 2021 was DRY. Scarily dry.  We started off helping out with surveys for the thrasher program in April - Dawn will be sharing some highlights from that later – and our southern Nevada point count surveys. I wrote up a blogpost on one of my thrasher surveys down there last year – you can find that here.  My overwhelming memory is of large numbers of desert shrubs, with few to no leaves – even the creosotes with brown dessicated leaves, and branches that had died back within the past year. Even the seemingly-ever-present Black-throated Sparrows appeared impacted – many did not appear to be breeding (unusually, I never saw any breeding evidence for them during my southern Nevada surveys). Even singing was affected – one creosote site where I’ve camped and surveyed most years since 2008, where there are always Black-throated Sparrows singing during the breeding season – I heard one singing a single short phrase at about 3 o’clock in the morning, and that was it.  It brought Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring to mind.  One of our sites in the southern Great Basin looms similarly large in my mind – very few birds singing, with many of the sagebrush only supporting a branch or two that contained leaves.

Our two primary Nevada Bird Count projects were located at Ash Meadows National Wildlife Refuge and along the Truckee River. Our Ash Meadows surveys were definitely a breath of fresh air amongst our other southern Nevada upland projects, and it was wonderful to be surveying near water!  My favorite survey was definitely our Crystal Reservoir transect that samples the wet ash meadows near the reservoir.  Summer Tanagers, a few Phainopepla and Vermilion Flycatchers, lots of Bewick’s Wrens … and wet feet!

Vermilion Flycatcher at Ash Meadows National Wildlife Refuge, Jen Ballard

Our Truckee River surveys continued work begun in the 1990s along the lower Truckee River, from Lockwood down to Nixon. As with our Ash Meadows surveys, we definitely appreciated surveying near water!  What stands out the most to me was the growth of the young cottonwoods (and a few willows) that had established in 2017-2018, and surveying points where once we’d had an unobstructed view for hundreds of meters, and now we looked out at a bank of young cottonwoods, their tops waving in the breeze.  On one of the long-term area search plots, where for years we had only had Yellow Warblers migrating through, now there were several territories, two with confirmed young.  It was incredibly heartening!

Upper McCarran #11, in 2019 ... you can see the young cottonwoods coming up!

Same place, 2021 ... you can just barely see the top of the hill & gallery cottonwoods!

Last but not least, we conducted 109 surveys of IMBCR plots for the BLM and Forest Service in Nevada and eastern California.  Our Forest Service surveys are only on the Humboldt-Toiyabe National Forest, and cover all three conservation regions, in the Carson Range/Sierras, Great Basin, and Mojave Desert.  Our BLM surveys were only within BCR 9 (the so-called Great Basin region). We definitely appreciated the opportunity to cover most of Nevada and some of eastern California, and having such widespread coverage was helpful to look at drought impacts.

I mentioned above that we appeared to be seeing impacts of the drought on the Black-throated Sparrows in our IMBCR surveys.  During the season, it seemed I was detecting fewer of them, and when I was, it seemed there were more at higher elevations than “normal,” and further north.  Talking to Ned, he, too, was seeing them in greater numbers on his more northern surveys.  So I did a quick data dive – I didn’t look at elevation, so I can’t say whether my initial impressions were correct in that regard, but we certainly did see some changes in latitude!  The following quick video shows the results of three years of our BLM surveys – the numbers are detections of Black-throated Sparrows within 100m, summarized at the transect level, but to maintain consistency between years, I only used data from points that were surveyed in each of the three years: 2019, 2020, and 2021.  We can see that there’s a fair amount of annual variation in those numbers, but that there was a clear tendency for fewer detections overall, and fewer detections in southern Nevada.

The total abundance (of all species) was even clearer on these surveys, declining over the three-year period, with the steepest drop in 2021, where total detections (tallied as above) in 2021 were 25% lower those in 2019.  Here’s how those results were visualized.

So, it was an interesting year for us, and we are looking forward to seeing what 2022 holds!  Stay tuned for our next installment ….

- Jen

Surveying in the Spring Mountains, May 2021

The daunting north wall of Potosi Canyon

Well, tomorrow’s plot starts up there…I was thinking to myself as I gazed upward, enjoying the sunset on the cliffs of Potosi Mountain and it’s neighboring peaks. Part of the standard evening routine is determining what time I need to set the alarm for the morning, factoring in that I must climb a full 1,000 feet higher than my current elevation, in a half- mile, 30 minutes before sunrise. While the implications of this were setting in, I heard a Scott’s Oriole singing.  It was a welcome reprieve from the unwelcome realization that it was not yet dark, and yet I will be waking up in 8 hours for a doozy of a hike. I poked my head around the corner to see the gorgeous male Scott’s Oriole perched atop a lonely Pinyon, and got to appreciate his beauty for a brief moment before he realized I was watching. It was truly a lovely, peaceful scene-not a soul in sight, shadows growing long as the sun’s amber glow bathes the cliffs, while the melody of my oriole carries across the valley.

Sunrise over Potosi Canyon, from the top of north wall

This survey is part of our IMBCR program on Forest Service and Bureau of Land Management lands, which I briefly discussed in my previous post about Grasshopper Sparrows. IMBCR stands for Integrated Monitoring in Bird Conservation Regions, and is a very neat project developed by Bird Conservancy of the Rockies in 2007.  It connects a massive survey area, nearly the entire western United States, under a common protocol, and generates some very interesting and useful data. These surveys are point-count surveys with 16 points, arranged in a grid, each point 250 meters apart, so that a 1kmx1km grid is created. In order to be a valid survey, at least 6 points must be completed.

I have surveyed this plot before … have I mentioned it’s steep?!  Every direction you look is a stunning mountain-scape of sheer cliffs and infinite vistas. On this particular plot it is only humanly possible to (safely) reach 6 survey points; dangerous cliffs and scree slopes prevent access to a majority of the plot.  So, I have painted a picture of a very difficult location to traverse, but it is not without its rewards. A previous surveyor found Rufous-crowned Sparrows two years in a row up there, even confirming breeding once!  I missed them the first time, but was hopeful for this second time. I should have known that if I lugged my camera up there, they would smell me coming and make themselves scarce. You can likely gather I did not detect any Rufous-crowns on this survey either. Gray Vireos, Black-chinned Sparrows, Scott’s Orioles, and White-throated Swifts would have to suffice—poor me, I know, it’s a tough job, but some one’s got to do it! 

Cliffs, cliffs, and more cliffs!

 Once safely down the mountain, it was just a little jaunt back to camp.  Once there, it was time to decompress and pack up camp. But, first things first, after a hike like that I needed ice cold refreshment. Fortunately for me, modern technology has created miraculously insulated vessels that hold ice for days.  It was only 9:00 (I had been up since 4:00, after all) yet the sun was still warming the air to a point just beyond comfort.  With no shade in sight, and the patch created by my truck rapidly dwindling, it was time to finish up, pack up, and get on out of here.  Another adventure awaits, as I get out the maps and begin navigating to tomorrow’s survey! 

- Ned

Surveying for Desert Thrashers

My day starts about an hour before sunrise on this April morning, as I get up and prep for the coming day’s surveys here near Knob Hill, by Searchlight.  Grabbing my pack and my water bottle, I start walking, and arrive on my first of three plots a few minutes after sunrise, enjoying that golden moment when the landscape glows … but not enjoying it for too long!, since as soon as I crest the ridgelet that is on my plot’s boundary, I need to scan around me, on the off chance there’s a thrasher perched.  No such luck. 

So I begin walking the plot. It’s a 300 by 300 meter block, and I’ve got 40 minutes to survey it - so I walk the length of the block, north then south then north again, making sure that I get within 50m of every point in it.  We’re collecting information on every bird we detect using the plot, but mostly we’re focused on Bendire’s and Le Conte’s Thrashers, and Loggerhead Shrikes. It’s a busy little plot, with several singing Black-throated Sparrows, some migrating Brewer’s Sparrows, chirping House Finches (though nothing like the flock of 90 I saw on a plot two days before), a Ladder-backed Woodpecker, with a singing Scott’s Oriole and Cactus Wren a bit beyond the plot boundaries.  None of my focal species though.

On to the next! It’s funny, the habitat isn’t much different and it’s still early in the morning, but this plot is SILENT compared to the first one.  I flush a group of four silent adult Black-throated Sparrows, and a little thereafter a silent Mourning Dove. And then, as I near one corner, where there’s a little bit higher density of Mojave Yucca, there it is – a fairly quiet, long song, that screams THRASHER. I pause my 40-minute timer, and head over to the yuccas … and nothing. I wander around in hope that I’m going to find it, but time is ticking, and I need to continue my survey. So I sigh, excited but a little bummed that I haven’t been able to see it, re-start my timer – and there it is! Yep, a beautiful Le Conte’s Thrasher, perched on the top of a Mojave yucca, beginning to sing again.  So I re-pause my timer, enjoy the view, and then when it flies off shortly thereafter, walk over to get the perch location and other details. Then I get going again, and finish up the plot.

My final plot is also quiet, so I’m able to survey it straight through with no pauses, and then work on some habitat surveys (and finish up my water bottle - my internal thermometer is still set on northern Nevada mode!). Finally, I’m done, and ready for the hike back to the car. After several days of work, it feels really good to finally have a thrasher! It is so incredibly dry down here right now, and the plants are reflecting that. Over the past several days, I’ve been looking at white bursage that are functionally leafless; creosotes often still with brownish leaves, and letting one or more branches die; and shadscale lacking a full set of leaves – with many of those that are there, dropping at the gentlest touch. So I wonder how the thrashers will respond, and am looking forward to the end of the survey season, and being able to see where we have found them, and what we're able to conclude about this year's breeding season.

This desert thrasher project has arisen out of Partners in Flight’s Desert Thrasher Working Group. You can find more information about the working group here. 

 Happy birding,

Jen

 Epilogue: As it turned out, that was the only thrasher I detected during my surveys. Data are still in the entry phase right now, so stay tuned for the overall results.

Thrasher survey plot west of the Spring Mountains

Lazdigo Buntings

We all know and love Lazuli Buntings, with their brilliant blue hue and sweet, warbler-y song.  When I hear my first Lazuli of the season, my first thought is almost always: “wait, what’s THAT warbler??” And then it hits me: of course, it’s a Laz!  But now, let’s introduce more confusion, a very close relative to our beloved Lazuli: the Indigo Bunting.  Not that this species is anything new, especially to those of us who have ever lived in the eastern United States - these guys can be THE most common songbird in some overgrown fields. They are continuing to expand their breeding range, westward and northward.  The species’ distribution during the breeding season roughly encompasses the entire eastern United States, north to very southern Canada and west to the Mississippi River, though they do hop over the river a bit, and there is a spur cutting from northeastern Nebraska southwest through Colorado; encompassing New Mexico, Arizona, southern Utah, and more recently southern Nevada. 

Every year it seems I see more and more Indigo Buntings here, to the point where I no longer feel as confident identifying Buntings that I only hear singing and do not see.  I have now had this experience several times: I hear a Bunting song, the notes seem very paired, and relatively slow for a Laz. So naturally, I start thinking Indigo, and I spend up to an hour tracking these birds down ... and what do I find but a beautiful rosy-chested, white-wing-barred, brilliant-electric-blue-male Lazuli Bunting.  After accepting that some bunting songs just cannot be confidently identified without a visual, “unknown Bunting” has become a regular on my checklists.

In search of the elusive Lazdigo Bunting ... Success!

Lazuli Bunting, Ned Bohman

Both buntings prefer to breed in edge habitat; often in riparian areas, and prefer to nest low in shrubs.  They both eat seeds and fruits throughout the year with an increase in arthropod consumption during breeding season. They both forage from ground level up to 15 meters off the ground.  Both sing conspicuously from the tops of shrubs such as willows, and commonly produce 2 broods per season. Essentially these two species occupy very similar ecological niches and they coexist largely because they are separated by range.  There is only a small amount of overlap in both breeding and winter ranges of the species currently, but this seems to be changing. Where their breeding ranges do overlap, hybrids occur.  (Stay tuned for a future post on hybridization between these bunting species!)

This is one of the fun observations that result from birding the same locations time after time: there is always the opportunity to see and learn new things. Whether it is as simple as a new behavior for a species you are intimately familiar with, or spotting a rare vagrant during migration; whether you are confirming breeding of a secretive species, seeing a species for the first time, or seeing a new species at a particular location.  But it doesn’t just afford these opportunities to observe new things, it also allows you to track changes as they occur on the landscape over time … like our Indigo Buntings becoming more common in Nevada. I consider us lucky to be in a part of the world where both of these beautiful birds occur!

Spring has sprung!

Spring is here and now it finally feels like it! With the lingering wintery weather and crazy social conditions, it has hardly felt like it. But today it is 75 degrees and my resident Mockingbird is singing his little heart out. For now, I can forget about being cooped up at home, because my yard birds are so busy! I have been enjoying sitting outside listening to this Mockingbird’s mimicry. His song is easy to pick out because he doesn’t use any original phrases, every element of his song is taken from things he has heard in his surroundings, and he repeats these in phrases of 3, constantly changing and rotating between sounds. 

Northern Mockingbird, Ned Bohman

It is fun to identify what he is mimicking, and then to use these clues to try to decipher the places he has been and who he has been hanging out with. He has been singing a lot of different Ruby-crowned Kinglet song phrases, plenty of California Scrub-Jay screams, and lately he has been adding phrases that I can only interpret as car alarms! I watch him as he sings from atop the ornamental Trees-of-Heaven in my backyard. But the story doesn’t end with a raucous male Mockingbird serenading my neighborhood. A second silent bird seems to be following him around.  Based on their behavior I assume this to be a female and potential suitor for my resident copy-cat. As I sit here, I hear another Northern Mockingbird begin to sing a few blocks to my west, I wonder if this silent bird I have been watching is in fact female, and if she has chosen her mate yet.

This time of year most birds are thinking about their biological reason for existence: reproduction.  If you watch and listen to the birds in your yard you can easily pick up on these cues.  You may have noticed the early mornings are a bit noisier lately, this is because male songbirds are advertising and attempting to attract mates.  They use their song to defend the territory from other males, and they also sing to attract females. If you are able to watch them for a while, you may be lucky enough to observe other behaviors associated with breeding.  

If you see a bird carrying something in its bill, pay attention to where it goes and what it does with its load. It could be carrying material with which to construct its nest. During this season of courtship males may bring their prospective mate an attractive food item to demonstrate their prowess. For example, male flycatchers will often bring their mates big showy insects like butterflies and dragonflies, presumably to impress or to demonstrate their hunting capability.  Later in the season, they will be bringing food to feed hungry females stuck on the nest incubating eggs. After this, the eggs will become nestlings that will need to be fed constantly. Being a bird parent is a busy business, and involves a lot of food-carrying!

It is now a few hours later, and while I am strolling around the block, I see a Northern Mockingbird hop into a dense hedgerow with a mouth full of dried grass stems. To the field-trained eye, this behavior is clearly associated with nest-building. This particular hedgerow is about 100 yards from my house, so I wonder if this bird is one of the pair I have been watching in my Tree-of-Heaven. Now that I have discovered the location of a nest, I can pay attention to various clues to tell me if the Mockingbirds in my yard are the same ones using my neighbor’s hedgerow. I will start to cue in on which direction the birds come and go from, I will listen for how close other Mockingbirds are, and if I am lucky I will be able to follow one from my yard to my neighbor’s. By paying attention to these little things, I am able to interpret so much about the birds that share the neighborhood with me.

You can do the same thing in your yard, if you notice a particular bird hangs around a lot, stay put and watch it for a while.  Maybe you will get the chance to see it carry some fruit from your ornamental shrub to its mate that is waiting just around the corner.  Maybe it has even decided your yard has enough resources to sustain its brood this year. By paying attention to the subtle things they are doing, you can learn a lot about them and their world. At the end of the season you may even be lucky enough to see them toting a brood of clumsy, fuzzy, fledglings around the yard!

- Ned

Grasshopper Sparrows!

While conducting field work this past breeding season, my randomly generated IMBCR plot found me in Northern Nevada’s Owyhee Desert.  IMBCR stands for Integrated Monitoring in Bird Conservation Regions, and is a program developed by the Bird Conservancy of the Rockies in 2007.  Since then, a number of organizations have collaborated with the Bird Conservancy to conduct these surveys across much of the American West.  Each breeding season these surveys are completed from North Dakota to West Texas, Colorado to California, Washington to Arizona, and many places in between.  Three years ago, GBBO joined this partnership, and began surveys in Nevada, Arizona, and California.  The large scope of these standardized surveys creates a powerful tool to monitor birds at a regional level, including conservation priority species across the breadth of their ranges.

So back to the Owyhee Desert, where I’m driving roads that haven’t seen traffic in who knows how long.  After finding a newly-eroded canyon through my access road, I nearly gave up on this survey, but Ben (my survey partner, who was doing a nearby Nevada Bird Count transect) and I finally ended up finding a navigable alternative and got to camp well after dark.  When I woke up, I was in a landscape that I didn’t know existed in Nevada.  As far as I could see was lush perennial grassland, several species of grass, waist-high Great Basin Wild Rye among them.  My first impression as I started walking from camp was the almost deafening chorus of Western Meadowlarks. 

Grasshopper Sparrow photographed elsewhere, some years later, by Ned Bohman

Nearby NBC transect surveyed by Ben

It wasn’t until minute 2 of my second point that I heard it, almost dismissible as insect noise, this quiet, mechanical “tsk-tsk-tzzzzz”.  At first I did pass it off as a Grasshopper, but it was so regular and a little too loud, and then it clicked. Grasshopper SPARROW! After nearly 10 minutes of staking out this particular cluster of bunchgrass, I finally saw him and my suspicions were confirmed. Tucked just below the highest point of the grass was a small, squat, flat-headed, relatively large-billed sparrow cocking his head back and singing his insect-like song. 

As my survey went on I encountered several more, and by the end of the morning I had conservatively counted 11 singing males.  This species has been on my radar ever since I heard tales a few years ago of these guys in northern and eastern Nevada, but I had never come across them.  Jean Linsdale, back in 1951, reported them as a summer resident in small numbers in the northeast part of the state, but records have been sparse.  Not surprising then, when I finally found them, I was in one of the most inaccessible parts of Nevada. The combination of distance from town and rough roads (where roads exist at all!) makes the Owyhee Desert pretty much off limits to most Nevada Birders. Given all this, and factoring in annual variation, it is hard to tell what is actually going on up there. Maybe there are always loads of Grasshopper Sparrows singing their hearts out in the Owyhee Desert with no humans to hear them, or maybe we had a bonanza year because of higher precipitation levels and greater growth of grasses and forbs.  We will be surveying there again in 2020, so we’ll report back then!

Grasslands on IMBCR plot

Grasslands on IMBCR plot

The Owyhee Desert is not the only part of the state that is largely inaccessible and has unique habitat.  With such a large area and such concentrated populations, Nevada has long been one of, if not the most under-birded state.  This combined with other factors led to the creation of Great Basin Bird Observatory and the first edition of the Nevada Breeding Bird Atlas 20 years ago….and 20 years later there are still new things to learn about Nevada’s avian community. So for those who are willing to get off the beaten path and explore a bit, who knows what you might find!

For those who are unfamiliar and/or curious, the Owyhee Desert is Northeast of Winnemucca, in between the Santa Rosa and Independence Mountain Ranges. It sprawls into impressive canyon lands in Idaho and Oregon to the North, and peters out as it hits the Owyhee Bluffs to the south, about 30 miles north of I-80.  It can be accessed from the west via Paradise Valley, but the primary entry points are on the east side through the Duck Creek Indian Reservation and the Town of Owyhee or by Wilson Creek Reservoir from the Midas-Golconda Road.

- Ned Bohman

Birding in the Ruby Mountains, July 2019

At the end of the field season, we held a public field trip to the Ruby Mountains.  We all had a great weekend, camping and birding in Lamoille Canyon, and even saw the target birds that we set out to see! Check out our eBird report here: https://ebird.org/tripreport/270752.

The group getting started on the hike to Island Lake

Taking time for some botanizing on the way up

We made it up to the beautiful Island Lake cirque at 9:00, and a few members of the group had gotten an early start and were already at the upper cirque by then. It was not long before the most bird-like rock any of us had ever seen was spotted.  Perched perfectly at the top of the ridgeline with a pale head and brown body, a few people saw it move, some even saw its feathers ruffle in the wind. We were so pleased; we had spotted our Himalayan Snowcock within minutes of getting to the cirque. After everyone had gotten a look, we decided to hike up closer to the snowfields to see if we could see any Black Rosy-Finches. It was not until 15 minutes after we had spotted the Himalayan Snow-Rock, that we determined our bird was, in fact, just a rock.  We did not let that take the wind out of our sails though, we continued on to the upper cirque and got to enjoy the sound of a few distant snowcock calling. We met up with the other members of the group here, and they excitedly asked us if we saw the birds they were pointing out to us. When we confusedly said that we hadn’t, they informed us they were watching us scan the ridgeline while they were watching 2 snowcock and jumping up and down and pointing trying to get our attention!

Folks arrived on Friday evening, and we enjoyed a pot-luck dinner while getting to know everyone. Once the campfire went out, everyone went to bed early to prepare for Saturday’s hike. The plan for Saturday morning was to start hiking up to Island Lake at 7 in hopes of catching views of Himalayan Snowcock at the top, before it got too late. 

By 6:30 Saturday morning everyone was raring to go chase down these elusive Asian chickens.  We left camp shortly thereafter and got to hiking.  We were greeted by singing a Lazuli Bunting and Fox Sparrow at the trailhead as well as a not-so-cooperative Dusky Flycatcher sallying about the aspen along the start of the trail.  The birds on the hike up were quite active, with Rufous and Broad-tailed Hummingbirds enjoying the abundant horsemint and Indian paintbrush, while singing MacGillivray’s Warblers and Green-tailed Towhees provided a nice soundtrack to hike to. At one point 6 Clark’s Nutcrackers stopped in to pose for us on a very picturesque snag. The birding along the hike may have delayed our arrival at the top where we could find Himalayan Snowcock, but was too enjoyable to rush!

Some of the group at Island Lake

At least somebody saw the target birds! We remained in the upper cirque for about an hour without seeing any actual snowcock before deciding to hike down. So while only 2 of the group actually saw snowcock this day, we all heard them call, and enjoyed a place with near-unmatched beauty in Nevada. We finished the walk with 33 species, and returned to camp for lunch.

If you look carefully you can pick out the elusive Himalayan Snow-Rock on the right side

After lunch, we went to South Fork State Recreation Area to see if we could spot some water birds.  This turned out to be more productive than we initially thought, yet not so riveting to keep us there for more than half-an-hour. Wilson’s Phalarope of various ages in varying plumages kept as entertained, as well as a juvenile American Coot that had a few of us scratching our heads. We made a group decision to go try for Bobolink before heading back to camp for the BBQ.  We left the reservoir with 16 species, and headed for the ranch lands of Lamoille.  After getting there it took just 5 minutes to spot a flock of Bobolink across the field. We conservatively counted 12 birds. The females and juveniles were most cooperative, the males only let us get brief views as they flitted about the tall grass. It was nonetheless enjoyable to be on the breeding grounds of such a range-restricted species in the state.  Shortly after 5:00 we headed back to camp to chat about the day and enjoy Hamburgers and Hotdogs. We left Lamoille with 12 species, including a few Wilson’s Snipe that were hanging out in the cattle corral.

Once back at camp, Barbeque fixings were already underway. The Barbeque was a great success.  We all had a lovely time chatting and enjoying charcoal-grilled burgers and dogs.  We got a campfire going, and got to planning for Sunday and making S’mores. Since we had diverged a bit from the schedule, and saw our Bobolink ahead of schedule, and some folks wanted to try again for snowcock, we had some figuring to do.  Most folks wanted to do their own thing and have a leisurely hike on the trails around camp. Some even enjoyed Thomas Canyon so much that they booked an extra night to explore the area some more. So we decided that a few of us would try again for snowcock, this time a bit earlier.  While everyone else would enjoy Thomas Canyon at their own pace. Now that we had a game plan, everyone enjoyed their final marshmallows and we doused the fire and headed to bed.

We began the hike before 6 AM this time, in hopes that our birds would be vocalizing. We also did not stop for birds on the way up, we were determined to see snowcock this time.  As soon as we got to Island Lake, we began hiking to the upper cirque. Once there, we hoped we would hear snowcock vocalizing. We did not, but after about 10 minutes Mike had spotted birds on the ridgeline. When we got the scope on them we all determined that they were in fact moving (definitely not rocks this time), and that there were 4 of them.  We all got fantastic looks at the snowcocks and watched as they slowly climbed up and over the ridgeline. After the last of these 4 disappeared we watched another and another pop out of the alpine vegetation onto the rocks of the ridgeline. Before we headed down we agreed that we saw 9 snowcock climbing around on the rocky ridgeline!

The group admiring the majestic Snow-Rock while Chris and Rosie helplessly attempted to point out actual Snowcock from above

The trail to Island Lake

Once back to camp we didn’t have much time before we had to check out of the sites.  So we made the rounds and bid everyone farewell. All in all, we had a great weekend meeting new friends, enjoying camp meals, and seeing good birds (Even if a few of the group have to change their life list to say “Himalayan Snow-Rock”). It was great to see everyone coming out to bird with us and enjoy the Ruby Mountains.

Thank you for coming out, Ellen and Adib Alaware, Tina Nappe, Bill Bowers, Nicole and Mike Carion, Judy Duffy, Don Van Patten, Chris and Rosie Howard!!

-Ned Bohman

Surveying Birds in Arizona's Uplands

Early in the spring of 2018, we conducted the first season of Arizona Uplands surveys, a project with Arizona Game & Fish as part of a larger study on the impacts of feral burros (donkeys) on Arizona wildlife and ecosystems. Burros were imported to Arizona as early as the 1600s, and eventually established feral populations as they escaped or were abandoned by prospectors in the 1800s. Equids have a different tooth structure than native ungulates, so can have heavy impacts on native vegetation that have evolved for approximately 10 thousand years in their absence. Feral burros can also compete with, and in many cases outcompete, native animals for food and water sources. As such they are the focus of management and study by federal and state agencies. Our goal with these bird surveys is to investigate the impact of burros on breeding bird populations.

Feral Burros, photo by Lauren Harter

Surveys were conducted in two areas, the Havasu Herd Management Area in western Arizona and the Lake Pleasant Herd Management Area north of Phoenix. We surveyed 60 plots in each area, with plots including areas with and without burros, with and without surface water, and other variables taken into consideration.

Over the course of the season in these 120 surveys, we documented a total of 128 bird species. Surveys took us to new areas for all five seasoned surveyors, from Lake Pleasant; Castle Hot Springs; and flats around Wittmann; to the Bill Williams River; Cactus Plain, Buckskin, and Needles wilderness areas; and the difficult to access Mohave Mountains. Once we have obtained a few more years of data, we hope to be able to inform future burro management based on good science.

- Lauren

In Search of the Elusive Desert Thrashers

Walking through thrasher country, photo by Michelle Tobin

The Desert Thrasher Survey season began this year at the end of March and just wrapped up a few weeks ago in mid-June. Nevada’s team is part of a larger network of governmental agencies, non-profits, and volunteers (The Desert Thrasher Working Group, DTWG). The DTWG is dedicated to improving our understanding of these enigmatic Thrashers, and recently has developed a standardized survey protocol for these birds. After much deliberation the DTWG decided on an area search survey approach, creating survey plots 300x300m to be surveyed within 40 minutes. This protocol was based off of surveys conducted by Point Blue Conservation Science. By conducting practice surveys we believed that at this size within a desert landscape the surveyor should be able to detect a thrasher on the plot and survey multiple plots in one morning/field day. To allow for variation in detection as well as arrival times for Bendire’s thrashers (Le Conte’s thrashers are a non-migratory species) we decided to survey each of our plots three times during the breeding season.

Bendire’s Thrasher by Jen Tobin

The 2018 surveys spanned the entire known U.S. range of the LeConte’s and Bendire’s thrashers. Surveys were conducted in Arizona, California, Nevada, New Mexico, and Utah. Approximately, 450 plots were surveyed across these states.

LeConte’s Thrasher nest, by Michelle Tobin

We are currently in the process of entering all our data from the season, but preliminary numbers suggest that our thrasher counts are higher than last season. We recorded at least 16 observations of Bendire’s thrashers this year, which appears to be double the number we observed in 2017. For LeConte’s thrashers, to date, we have entered 165 records for these birds. However, this represents multiple visits to plots and therefore could be an inflated number of actual territories. We hope to finish up data entry by the end of June, and have more concrete numbers and an analysis of our habitat data by the end of the summer.

 - Dawn

In total Nevada surveyed 126 plots:112 which were part of the region-wide survey effort, 12 were exploratory surveys, and 6 plots were revisits to areas where thrashers were found last season. As part of the survey protocol each of the 118 plots (112 region-wide and 6 resurvey plots) plots were surveyed three times throughout the season. Due to time constraints the exploratory plots could only be surveyed two times during the season. Therefore, our total survey effort for the season was 378 surveys.

In addition, to surveying for birds on each plot habitat assessments were also conducted at the plot center. We used a point center quarter method to evaluate the habitat. In addition, we recorded information on fruit-bearing shrubs, Yucca species, ground cover and composition, and measures of disturbance and invasive species.

In 2018, in Nevada, we also began our adopt-a-thrasher program. This program was designed so that volunteers could revisit known Bendire’s Thrasher territories and document presence/absence of this species. We focused specifically on Bendire’s thrashers, because this species has been very difficult to capture on surveys, and multiple questions still remain about the basic life history, phenology, and occurrence of this thrasher.

LeConte’s Thrasher nestlings by Michelle Tobin

Surveying birds in Arizona grasslands

Last year, we began working with our partners at the Arizona Game and Fish Department on grassland bird surveys in spring, summer, and fall. The state of Arizona has several programs aimed at restoring historical grasslands across the state, with the goal of improving habitat for wildlife such as pronghorn as well as improving rangeland. The main purpose of our surveys was to understand how these ongoing grassland treatment activities are affecting breeding birds. For bird surveys, the AZGFD also partnered with the Bird Conservancy of the Rockies to use their Integrated Monitoring in Bird Conservation Regions (IMBCR) program. We started the season in central and northern Arizona, covering both public and private land across Yavapai and Coconino counties. In July and August, once the monsoon rains began to fall, we moved to southeastern Arizona. There, we surveyed ranches in Graham, Cochise, Santa Cruz, and Pima counties.  

Pronghorn kept us company on some surveys

Central Arizona Grassland

In central and northern Arizona, surveyed habitats ranged from high desert grasslands sprinkled with acacia and prickly pear, to rolling hills of pinyon-juniper, to prairie dog-dotted flats. Thrashers were particularly interesting in this region. Crissal Thrashers were common throughout, and we found quite a few Bendire's Thrashers (one of our focal species on our thrasher project) in open juniper-barberry woodland east of Flagstaff. We even turned up a very rare Brown Thrasher near camp in the same area! In southeastern Arizona, most of our surveys were in semidesert grassland, in both the Sonoran and the Chihuahuan deserts. Here we were serenaded by the cascading songs of Cassin's Sparrows on nearly every survey, as well as the bouncing-ball song of Botteri's Sparrows and of course the ubiquitous Black-throated Sparrow. In a few pure grassland sites, we recorded the very local breeding Grasshopper Sparrow. In July, we enjoyed watching the monsoons build over the mountains almost every day, but were only caught in a few downpours!

We're looking forward to continuing and even expanding this monitoring effort to increase our understanding of grassland birds in Arizona this year!

We kicked off our southeastern Arizona grassland surveys in mid July with some beautiful scenery

Who We Are, and Why We Work

Several of us were talking last month about why we do what we do – what started us down this path, and why we keep on it.  We thought we’d share those thoughts with you in 2017, in a series of interviews.  In this preamble to the series, I’ll talk a little bit about Great Basin Bird Observatory, what it is and why it’s here, and then move on to introduce myself - since in the successive installments, I’ll be transitioning to the role of Interviewer!

GBBO is a non-profit science organization dedicated to the conservation of birds and their habitats in the Great Basin and adjoining regions, through research, partnerships, and education.  We are not an advocacy organization: our agenda is to collect the best bird (and other wildlife) information that we can, and to share that information with land managers, biologists, and the public (and not necessarily in that order!).  We were established in 1997 – incredibly, this year is our 20th Anniversary!  We will be celebrating that with the 2017 Great Basin Bird Conference, from May 17th to the 21st, and you can find more information about it here.

Our origin story:

Back in the late ‘90s, biologists, managers, and other sundry bird enthusiasts began to gather information on the birds of Nevada for a Partners-in-Flight [1] bird conservation plan for the state.  In the process, it became clear that there were a lot of holes in the knowledge available about Nevada’s birds and their status within the state.  GBBO was formed in 1997 to try and meet that need, and the Breeding Bird Atlas project was born.  While the atlas field work started up in 1997, it really picked up steam in 1998, and continued through 2000.  Ted Floyd was the Director of GBBO at the time, but he eventually moved on to new projects (including his current work at the American Birding Association), and Elisabeth Ammon was brought in as the new Director in 2002. 

Elisabeth started up the Nevada Bird Count program in 2002, a statewide monitoring program that consists primarily of point count transects.  We now have 15 years of data collected across almost 1000 transects located across Nevada and into adjacent states.  Not all transects are surveyed each year – some transects have only been surveyed once, while others have been surveyed year after year.  In some cases, where transects were established prior to the GBBO’s NBC program and were pulled into the NBC framework – such as those established by Elisabeth in the late ‘90s along the Truckee River - we now have close to 20 years of data!

Lower Colorado River Study Area, courtesy BOR

Nevada Bird Count Transects

As the decade wore on, the number of biological staff began to increase, taking a big leap up in 2008 when (among other things), we began our work on the Lower Colorado River (LCR) program.  For the LCR program, surveyors conduct area searches in riverside habitats, mapping birds’ locations – and where possible, their territories.  Overall, more than 1000 plots have been surveyed using their rapid area search method, and approximately 150 plots have been surveyed using their intensive survey method!  It forms an enormous database of location-specific information.

While these have been our largest, and most overarching programs, we do a wide array of research and monitoring - everything from lagomorph surveys (rabbits and hares) and small mammal community studies, to Golden Eagles to Pinyon Jays to Elf Owls.

My origin story:

As for me, I’m the daughter of a forester/former farm kid and a zoologist, and most of my earliest memories are of field sites, camping trips, and backpacking adventures (evidently in those earliest adventures, I was the one in the backpack).  My parents hunted, dad was a keen wildlife watcher, and mom gardened, embraced her inner geologist, and watched birds – plus she was always bringing bug larvae into the house “to see what they grew up to be.”  With that upbringing, it’s probably not surprising that for as far back as I can remember, I wanted to be a wildlife biologist.  It’s also become evident over the years how helpful it was to be able to – without realizing it – absorb how they dealt with the many and interesting situations that crop up whenever you spend a lot of time in the outdoors, hiking in different terrains, and driving crazy roads!

After several years of school and working on everything from bats to plants to birds, I ended up as a biologist at Hart Mountain National Antelope Refuge, in southeastern Oregon.  It was there that I was introduced to GBBO, when Ted Floyd was looking for atlas volunteers – so my field tech and I worked some atlas blocks into our survey schedule on Hart’s sister refuge, Sheldon NWR, in northwestern Nevada.  Later, when Elisabeth came on board, I helped out with some of the point count transects in the Sheldon area.  By 2005, I’d moved on from Hart Mountain & Sheldon, and was working in a much more office-bound position, daydreaming about field work on my lunchtime bird walks.  Serendipitously, a position as the monitoring coordinator opened up here at GBBO.  You can probably picture me in that moment – chained to a computer in a beige cubicle under fluorescent lights, with little thought bubbles arising from my head:  Birds!  Field work!  Nevada!  GBBO!   (Very) long story short - I applied for the job, and started up here in 2006.

The things that drew me to apply are the things that have caused me to stay.  I love that work draws me outside, and that that work occurs at different scales.  For some projects, I am exploring new areas; for others, I am digging into well-known locales and communities.  Plus, the different protocols give me greater insight into the natural world – for example, our point count transects extend across 2 miles of habitat (not including the hike into them, of whatever length), which allows me the opportunity to see the changes in habitats across the landscape, and how birds, other wildlife, and plants respond to the different conditions.  Our intensive area searches, on the other hand, allow me the chance to closely observe the same plot of ground over and over again – sometimes for years – and really dig into the seasonal and annual variations.  And that’s not including our mammal surveys or our species-specific surveys for birds like Golden Eagles or Snowy Plovers!  I’m not a lister by nature [2]; while I enjoy finding vagrants and all of the natural history that is involved in that, my driving interest is in why birds (and other species) call a particular location home – for a year, a season, or even a temporary rest stop on a migratory byway!    Our primary field season occurs in April through July, though there is work scattered throughout the year.  When I’m not in the field, I’m in my “chained to my laptop” mode.  Some of that is more necessary than fun – the payment made for enjoying the rest of the job.  But some of it is also a core joy – having the opportunity to dig into the data that were collected during the field season, and turning up new connections I didn’t know existed, confirming some thoughts about relationships, and complicating or even upending others!  Lastly, this job has given me the opportunity to work with and mentor some fantastic, outdoorsy, bird/mammal/herp/bug/plant-loving people.  The staff here are a close-knit, supportive bunch, and I appreciate the opportunity to learn and grow.  Plus, we’ve had some brilliant folks come through the Nevada Bird Count, who continue to go on to do amazing work.  I have so enjoyed getting to know them, have learned from them and been inspired by them – and I hope they can say the same of me!

All the best in 2017!

Jen

[1] Partners-in-Flight is a collaborative partnership and network dedicated to bird conservation throughout the Americas, and includes government agencies (federal, state, county, and local), non-profit organizations, researchers, and individuals throughout the Western Hemisphere.  Their website is here: http://www.partnersinflight.org/ , and you can download their recently-completed (2016) landbird conservation plan for the US and Canada from the site.

[2] I do keep lists, though – one of my favorite listing “games” is not a presence/absence species list for the counties within Nevada, but a list of species by county with their breeding status – e.g., confirmed, probable, possible, and observed – and trying to get as high a breeding status for all of the species in all of the counties that I can.

#OptOutside 2016

The day after Thanksgiving, seven intrepid souls gathered in the chilly morning to go birding around Reno and Sparks.  Three of them were new to the area, so welcome to Nevada!  We started off at the Sparks Marina, where we found 17 species.  One of the highlights for several of us were close-up views of an icy-backed Black-crowned Night-Heron along the shoreline.

Canada Goose
Gadwall
Mallard
Northern Shoveler
Common Loon
Pied-billed Grebe
Eared Grebe
Double-crested Cormorant
Black-crowned Night-Heron
American Coot
Killdeer
Ring-billed Gull
California Gull
Herring Gull
Rock Pigeon
Mourning Dove
Brewer’s Blackbird

After a short stint there at the Marina, we headed off to Oxbow Nature Study Area, and wandered along the Truckee River.  We found 41 species – the highlights were the Red-shouldered Hawks and Black Phoebe, both lifers for some of the folks there.  And seeing a Merlin knife its way through the sky – that’s always a treat!

Canada Goose
Gadwall
Mallard
California Quail
Sharp-shinned Hawk
Cooper’s Hawk
Red-shouldered Hawk
Red-tailed Hawk
American Coot
California Gull
Rock Pigeon
Eurasian Collared-Dove
Mourning Dove
Red-naped Sapsucker
Downy Woodpecker
Northern Flicker
American Kestrel
Merlin
Black Phoebe
Steller’s Jay
California Scrub-Jay
Black-billed Magpie
Common Raven
Mountain Chickadee
Bewick’s Wren
Ruby-crowned Kinglet
Hermit Thrush
American Robin
European Starling
Cedar Waxwing
Orange-crowned Warbler
Yellow-rumped Warbler
White-crowned Sparrow
Song Sparrow
Spotted Towhee
Red-winged Blackbird
Brewer’s Blackbird
House Finch
Lesser Goldfinch
American Goldfinch
House Sparrow

After Oxbow Park, we stopped at a nearby coffee shop to refuel with either hot cups of caffeine or some breakfast, and then zig-zagged our way to Rancho San Rafael, where we turned up 30 species.  We started our loop through the arboretum, made our way to the pond, and then down along the willows, before heading back up.  The willows were pretty quiet, birdwise, but beautiful as ever, and rewarded us with some almost-within-arms-reach views of Ruby-crowned Kinglets, Bewick’s Wren, and Mountain Chickadee.

Canada Goose
Mallard
Ring-necked Duck
Hooded Merganser
Pied-billed Grebe
Golden Eagle
Sharp-shinned Hawk
Cooper’s Hawk/Sharp-shinned Hawk
Red-tailed Hawk
Black-crowned Night-Heron
American Coot
Mourning Dove
Unknown Sapsucker
Downy Woodpecker
Hairy Woodpecker
Northern Flicker
Steller’s Jay
California Scrub-Jay
Mountain Chickadee
Bushtit
Bewick’s Wren
Ruby-crowned Kinglet
Hermit Thrush
American Robin
Yellow-rumped Warbler
Dark-eyed Junco
White-crowned Sparrow
Song Sparrow
Spotted Towhee
House Finch
Lesser Goldfinch

All in all, a happy way to start a Friday!  Thanks to everyone for coming out, and we’ll see you next year!  

Surveying the Laguna Division Conservation Area along the Lower Colorado River

Below is a guest post by Kaitlin Murphy, one of GBBO’s seasonal surveyors on the Lower Colorado River project.  Thanks for sharing your experiences, Kaitlin!

Dawn splashes amber light over the vertical stripes of marsh plants all around me, illuminating the intricately patterned bodies of two silhouettes in a dead cottonwood tree above my head. The silhouettes swivel their heads to look down at me. Razor claws gripping dead branches and golden eyes drooping with sleepiness, they perk up at the hoots of a distant neighboring pair. The male stands up on his perch, leans forward, almost as if he is going to somersault into the marsh, and puffs his white-feathered throat, letting out a low, booming answer. The female joins in with slightly higher-pitched hoots and few cranky yelps. Then they retreat into a huge thorny mesquite where they will doze in the shade until dusk falls and hunger draws them out again. Their nightly pursuits are written in the sand each morning.

I'm standing knee-deep in a crystal clear marsh, but up beyond the bank is a sparse mesquite bosque, each sand-marooned shrub wreathed by tiny footprints – the paired dots of bouncing kangaroo rats, galloping four-paws of desert pocket mice and cottontails, patterned tick-marks of little grasshopper feet, and even the unusual squat-stamps of toads. The night crew of the desert. Alongside the pitter-patter, larger tracks trundle across the open sand, sometimes interrupted by dug holes and messy attacks– coyote, bobcat, raccoon, skunk, and Great Horned Owl. The owl tracks are unmistakable -  longer than my forefinger with two toes pointing forward, one pointing back, and one sticking straight out to the side. Owls are what ornithologists call zygodactyl – their inner front toe able to swivel to the back, maximizing the surface area of deadly talon potential during an aerial pounce. The sand here is so fine, I even found a full-spread wing imprint of an owl touching down. But wait, you say, do owls really walk on the ground? These ones apparently do, quite a lot, as evidenced by their sloppy gait traced across the dunes. By the time I arrive at dawn to survey for avian life, the authors of all these stories have tucked in to their burrows, tunnels, and hiding places under dense brush.

If you've never spent much time in the desert, or especially if the only time you have spent is staring out the car window blasting down the interstate at 85mph, you might be tempted to believe there's nothing but a lifeless wasteland out there. Endless shades of brown – tawny sand, rust-tinged hills, dusty mountains carved by winding dry riverbeds, scraggly plants barely squeezing any green into the landscape. Aside from a few wheeling ravens, and ramshackle trailers that may or may not still be occupied by snowbirds, signs of life are slim. That is, until you pull your car over to the shoulder and step into a dry wash to relieve yourself (the nearest gas station still 80 miles away). The glaring sun keeps your eyes low, and scanning the cracked earth you discover a foreign language scrawled across the sand.

For the past 5 years, GBBO has been leading the breeding bird surveys along the Lower Colorado for what's called the Lower Colorado River Multi-Species Conservation Plan. Through on-the-ground surveys and data analysis, GBBO documents the use of virgin, disturbed, and created riparian habitat by breeding and migratory birds. Each spring, GBBO sends out intrepid field crews to riparian plots around Yuma, Blythe, Lake Havasu City and Lake Mead to conduct area search and spot-mapping surveys of bird activity, with a focus on six of the more-imperiled passerine species. Other agencies and crews monitor endangered populations like Yellow-billed Cuckoo, Southwestern Willow Flycatcher and Elf Owl. Then in the fall, GBBO conducts extensive vegetation surveys to link the bird data with environmental conditions. The analysis of this data contributes to current and future management plans.

And this is where I come in. This is my third spring season with GBBO's LCR crew. The first year I was hired, I was living in Maryland and looked forward to hiking among dry dunes and cacti. Contrarily, the LCR surveys are some of the wettest I've ever participated in! It's true, I've yet to be caught in a rainstorm. But with the intermittent water flows, I never know when I am going to be knee-, thigh-, or even chest-deep in marsh water. I've even had the pleasure of surveying by kayak!

Today, though, the marsh is lowering. Just a week ago, I was tip-toeing through a channel with my pack above my head. This season I am stationed in Yuma, Arizona to survey two big habitat creation projects: Yuma East Wetlands on the north-east edge of town, and Laguna Division Conservation Area (LDCA) about 20 miles upriver, straddling the California-Arizona border. Yuma East is older, with some nice big cottonwood stands, plenty of bird-life and even a resident bobcat. LDCA is brand new, a baby habitat growing up fast. In 2011, the tamarisk sea was bulldozed and re-graded to create winding channels, varied slopes for ecotones, and larger bowls of open water for wintering ducks and future recreational fishing. Water delivery and control systems were constructed to direct water in what are called “pulses”, from Imperial Dam at the north end and back to Laguna Dam at the south. The next season, marsh plants and tiny saplings were planted by these crazy machines that look like 4-driver tuktuks with a harvester on the back, but instead of harvesting, it inserts baby trees into the ground. With this new technology, the painstaking process of hand-planting trees has been reduced to 10% of the time and energy necessary.

By the time I arrived early April 2016, the marsh areas were fully grown and humming with the sewing-machine songs of Marsh Wrens, witchity-witchity of Common Yellow-throats, hilarious guffawing of Yellow-headed Blackbirds, and terrifying growling of Great and Snowy egrets, White-faced Ibis, and Black-crowned Night Herons. Cormorants were sunbathing and an osprey was fishing from dead snags left purposefully by the dozer crews. A beaver slapped the water in warning and fish darted in the shallows. The trees are still young, some just reaching above my head. They were arranged in sweeping rows with willows lining the waterways, cottonwoods above them, and mesquite and desert riparian grasses on the drier islands. As I weave between the glowing deciduous leaves, the air is relatively quiet, except for the bombs going off in the hills to the east. On the other side of Mittry Lake lies Yuma Proving Ground, and often my “flyovers” category could include all manner of mechanical birds, not to mention paratroopers floating on the horizon.

The current lack of birds in the young “forest” is not in the least disheartening, though! In fact, all that photosynthesizing lends an excitement to the air, I can almost taste the potential in the wafting pollen. This habitat may be quiet now, but in a few years I can envision a winding row of towering cottonwoods ringing with Yellow Warblers and willow thickets so dense only small creatures seeking shelter can enter. If Yuma East Wetlands can be used as a gauge, the future is hopeful. Just across the highway from downtown, you can be transported into a wildlife wonderland. Bobcats, mule deer, Gambel's Quail, legions of lizards, even a few rattlesnakes dart among the well-crafted shrubland and forest plots. Marshy ponds harbor rails and herons, and flocks of thousands of migrating swallows roosting for the night The magic is only interrupted by winks of human design – concrete canals slicing through cottonwood groves, sputtering irrigation tubes winding around mesquites and shady burrows harboring squeaking ground squirrels. This sort of cyborg nature seems slightly disingenuous – wilderness on life-support – until you witness the results in blossoming biodiversity.  

As I sneak along the drying mud in LDCA, eyes scanning the ground for nighthawks, I see millions of mammal and heron tracks – the collective treading of animals over the past three years laid upon one another, never fully washed away by the gently rising and falling water levels. Signs that wildlife are already filtering in to this new opportunity. A barely-audible flickering tickles my right ear, and in my peripheral vision I catch the frantic flapping of a female Lesser Nighthawk. Her Oscar-worthy performance of broken wings and seizures momentarily draws my attention away from her two speckled eggs, laid directly on the sand. Their camouflage is impeccable, and if it weren't for the nighthawks' undying parental devotion, I would worry about accidentally stepping on them. The nocturnal birds spend all day shading their precious investments on exposed gravel bars, even bringing water from nearby sources in their breast feathers to sprinkle on eggs that could go from developing to sunny-side up in sizzling ground temperatures – sometimes up to 20 degrees hotter than Yuma's average triple-digit highs. I take a quick snapshot of the eggs and move on, careful not to leave a dead-end scent trail. Within seconds, the mother is back on her “nest” – more conceptual than practical, but it must work often enough!

Water is life on earth, but it is no more painstakingly obvious than in the desert. Parched by sun and wind, any bit of water effects the plants and animals for miles around. The humidity created by deciduous transpiration effects valley temperatures and weather patterns. A hundred miles upstream, the Colorado is fed by the Bill Williams River, one of the last remaining stands of riparian forest. It is now a Wildlife Refuge, and harbors thirty-four species of butterfly – eleven of which were historically common throughout the river system, but are now only found there. Even elusive creatures that spend most of their time on the dry ridges – bighorn sheep, mountain lion, and ravens – come down to the valleys and springs to fill their gullets with life-saving liquid.

Dams and irrigation have created a lot of opportunity for humans in the forms of agriculture, development, and energy. It's heartening to know that it’s possible to give back a little to the other residents of this verdant desert corridor. It takes a lot of work but it is proving to be worth every drop. I can't wait to come back in a few years and see the habitats all grown up!