Florida again? Oh yes.

Oh, hi, there!

The absence of posts here is indicative of two things: 1) we've been busy on a number of projects that need to be done before the end of the year, and 2) we haven't seen any new birds! (sad face)

This is not from lack of trying. We've tried multiple times for one of the last somewhat-common birds we still need, the Short-eared Owl, but have failed every time.

But with two weeks to go, we’re not giving up yet. We decided to make one more journey out to Florida and Texas for a few rare birds, hoping to boost our number just a little during the last few weeks of the year.

This latest episode began on Saturday, as we flew out to Miami and checked into a hotel near Pembroke Pines. The subject this time was a rare visitor from the Bahamas or Cuba, a Western Spindalis. Note this is not a device used to make thread, it is actually a bird. It was first reported at a Florida park about a week ago, coincidentally, the same park where we saw the Spot-breasted Orioles on our prior trip.

So, Sunday morning, we rose as early as we could, and arrived at the park at 930A. Our excitement level rose as a small group of photographers were arrayed around a tree! This was going to be EASY.

We approached the group, and causally asked, “Whatcha got?”

“Oh, it’s very exciting,” the lady replied, “Several Spot-breasted Orioles are hanging out, and we're getting great pictures!” Which would have truly been exciting, if those weren’t the same birds we’d seen two weeks prior.

But this wasn’t completely bad news, as reports of the Spindalis mentioned that it was associating with the cluster of orioles. So, we asked if anybody had seen our bird.

“Yes!” she exclaimed, “Just about 30 minutes ago! Somebody saw it on the other side of the field.”

OK, now we were cooking with gas. Wandering over to the proper side of the field, we pumped other birdwatchers for information. Had they seen it, and if so, where? How high in the trees? What was it eating?

As the morning passed, one by one, the other birders gave up and wandered off. The park grew busier and busier, as the non-bird crowd showed up. This park turned out to be a multiuse facility, including camping, a large dog park, huge picnic grounds, and (because why not?) a shooting range. So, as the afternoon drew on, and we continued wandering to and fro not seeing our target, we were serenaded by dogs barking, motorcycles and unmuffled cars showing off, laughing and shrieking, all punctuated by the constant POP-POP-POP of gunfire.

Finally, as dusk fell and our spirits with it, after 8 hours of standing around accomplishing nothing, we gave up and returned to the hotel.

As we worked through the evening’s projects and then found nearby dinner, I started to feel worse and worse. By the time we went to bed, my throat was so sore that just attempting to swallow was painful. This did not bode well for the next day, of which we only had about 3 hours of daylight to find the bird before needing to return to the airport.

Monday morning, as the alarm went off at 5:45AM Eastern Time, I woke and took stock of how I felt.

To fully describe my situation, I need to explain a little personal history. A few years ago, I had a co-worker that I very much enjoyed talking with named Simon. Simon was British, and aside from the delightful accent and occasional turns of phrase that needed translation, he punctuated his speech with frequent epithets. And he wouldn’t just say the epithets, he would carefully and precisely pronounce each syllable, letting them drip from his tongue like molasses.

One of the words that he said very well, and very frequently, was “Shit”. And when Simon said the word, you didn’t just get the sense that his target was kind of bad. He would insert the briefest of pauses after the “Shi” and then clearly enunciate the “t”, as though spitting out the word with the fullest level of disgust that one could muster, while keeping a properly British polite and civil one.

With that in mind, I can honestly say that I felt like Shit.

But, we had only a few hours to rescue this leg of the trip, and so the show must go on. So off we went, into the humid and still dark Florida morning, to stand in our park and watch for nothing. We did arrive three hours earlier than the prior day, however, so maybe the outcome would be different?

As before, the orioles made an early appearance and, like a Kardashian at a cocktail party, kept themselves the center of attention. And like paparazzi at a Kardashian cocktail party, photographers with high-end cameras and lenses the size of small artillery guns fired off hundreds of frames of the birds preening and modeling in the early morning sun. Meanwhile, we covered yesterday’s territory for seemingly the thousandth time.

With about 30 minutes before we had to leave, we decided to spend the rest of our time near the orioles, hoping that the Spindalis would make an appearance with its friends. In football terms, this was the equivalent of throwing a Hail Mary pass at the end of a game: you don’t expect it to work, but just maybe…

Suddenly, the orioles decided the time was right to move to the palm trees just behind me, and one by one the seven birds flew over my head. Then, an eighth shape zoomed in, close on their tail feathers.

My binoculars shot up to my eyes, and while the lighting was terrible, I could see from the shape that it wasn’t an oriole. When I saw the black and white pattern through the eyes, I knew we had it.

The Spindalis obligingly flew to a nearby tree, perching at the top while looking first one way, then another, as if to give the crowd of adoring photographers the glimpses of him that they wanted. And it looked something like this:

Oh, my, you're a pretty one. How about a little back view?

Oh, yeah, that's a good look. Might nice red feathers you've got there!

"Creep!" he shouted, exiting stage left.

Our next stop was Walgreens, for a truckload of Nyquil and Emergen-C, and then off to the airport. Our day was otherwise uneventful, and now we’re in Corpus Christi, TX. A Mexican warbler was reported near here last weekend, so we’re going to try our luck at it tomorrow, before returning home for a few more attempts at the owls.

Here's to our luck continuing tomorrow, and that Nyquil really kicking in!

Me

Timing is Everything

For the past several weeks, reports have filtered out of South Florida that a somewhat unusual bird, the Smooth-billed Ani, was hanging out in Jonathan Dickinson State Park, near Jupiter, FL. And by "several weeks," I mean that the first report was posted on Sept 19, and subsequent reports followed almost daily. It was the definition of "reliable".

However, two days before we arrived in town, the first good rainstorm of the Fall dropped 1-2" of rain in a couple of days. This turned the Ani's favorite haunt, a large grassy bowl right next to the camping area, into a large swimming pool. And since Anis like to forage on the ground, this was, as they say, "no bueno".

So when we arrived at the park, the Ani had not been seen for several days. And despite our best efforts, it still has not been found. She could still be there, but the park is HUGE and nobody has re-located her yet. DRAT!

Next target: American Flamingo. While "American" is in the name, only a few of them show up in America each year, mostly in the shallow bays just offshore of Everglades National Park. Turns out, a pair of them showed up recently near Flamingo Visitor Center, in an infamous bay named Snake Bight. I call it infamous because anybody who has tried to hike the eponymous trail knows that this is one of the worst places EVER for mosquitoes. As one reviewer on TripAdvisor wrote, "As well as other reviewers, I only walked one minute, before running back to the car, due to mosquitoes". Our experience a few years ago was similar.

So, you can see the Flamingoes in one of two ways: you can hike the mosquito-infested trail and hope they happen to be standing in the relatively small viewing area from the end of the trail, or paddle a canoe from the Visitor Center about three miles and have 360 degree views of the entire bay. Obviously, the canoe is the way to go.

After our strikeout with the Ani and a three hour drive, we ended up at the Visitor Center. The sky was dark, and rain had fallen almost the entire drive. The canoe rental guy was very skeptical about letting us have a canoe:

"You can try if you want," he said, "But you only have an hour until low tide, which means you have to go the long way around. The sun sets in two hours, so unless you want to canoe in the dark, you're going to have to paddle like hell to make it."

Unfortunately, the forecast for the following day was for thunderstorms and strong winds, although mostly in the afternoon. His advice was to come back at dawn and make our journey as quick as possible.

Discretion vs. valor and all that, we took his advice. But given the concerns about tomorrow's weather, we decided to attempt the 1.5 mile Snake Bight trail just in case the Flamingoes were there.

So, although the temperature was around 80F with 95% humidity, we geared up: long pants, gloves (winter gloves, the only ones we had), and raincoat with hood up, all of it spritzed with 100% DEET. And it's a good thing we did, because not 25 feet down the trail, this is what The Wife's back looked like:

And, of course, after a sweaty 3.6 mile Death March, constantly swatting skeeters off the tiny patch of exposed skin on our faces, there were no Flamingoes.

So, time to find a hotel for the night. Driving out of the park to Florida City, however, we noticed amazingly heavy traffic, with orange cones blocking the left-hand turn we wanted to make and police directing traffic. Pulling over to do research, we discovered that a major NASCAR race was being held this weekend at the track in Homestead, with 50,000 fans expected in the area. And, it turns out, those fans need hotel rooms, because literally every room within an hour's drive was booked. DOUBLE DRAT! We considered just sleeping in the car, but really needed showers after the hike, so off we went, back up to Fort Lauderdale.

The next morning, leaving at 5AM, we drove through a tremendous downpour, the kind where the windshield wipers on Extra Fast can't keep up, and you have to slow to 30 mph to have any idea where the road is. We considered bailing, but knowing that Florida weather changes quickly, we drove on.

Fortunately, by the time we arrived at the Visitor's Center, the skies were blue, winds were calm, and the sun was shining brightly. It was a beautiful day for a canoe trip! Or so it seemed...

We are fairly novice Paddlers, but familiar enough with the techniques to make our way in a reasonably straight line out of the harbor. As we rounded the first sand bar, we noticed that the wind was a little breezy, as we were paddling on our left about three or four strokes for every one on the right for our "straight" line. But, we were making good time so thought nothing of it.

About an hour later, we had reached the bay and were scanning the hundreds of egrets, pelicans, and other usual birds for our quarry. A couple of Roseate Spoonbills got us excited briefly, but after about 15 minutes of paddling around, success! Here's a picture of the two flamingos feeding:

[Actually, there is no picture, because I was pretty sure the canoe was going to capsize at some point and didn't want to ruin my camera, so I didn't bring it. But, you know what a flamingo looks like...]

We turned the ship around and began the trek back to the harbor, this time taking the short route because the tide had risen enough to cover the mud flats. The paddle across the bay was smooth, as we were getting into a good rhythm, and then we rounded the corner for our straight shot to port. And were smacked in the face by the wind.

If you've ever been in a canoe, you'll know that canoes are great sails: their sides are fairly high and straight, so they present a nice handle for the wind to grab. When we were facing directly into the wind, we made some slow progress forward, but if the tip of the canoe veered slightly to one side, the gusts would literally spin us 180 degrees or push us into the mangrove trees.

Pulling the paddles with all our strength, and taking a few rest breaks when we got stuck in the mangroves, we managed to inch our way back to the harbor.

Upon arriving at the dock, the Canoe Guy was happy to see us.

"Oh, good, you made it back!" he exclaimed, "We were wondering if we were going to have to send a boat out for you. These winds really picked up earlier than usual, and they're strong enough now we're not letting anybody else out."

And that is how we narrowly avoided being killed by flamingoes.

Thanks to the wonders of GPS technology, you can actually see the route we took. The more red the color, the faster we went, and the more blue, the slower:

We're missing the first part of the trip because we forgot to turn on the GPS. I guess technology can't solve all problems yet.

What's next? How about New England for Thanksgiving? We're headed to Provincetown, MA, on the far tip of Cape Cod, to see how the Pilgrims lived and to pick up a few winter birds. The weather looks good, so our fingers and toes are crossed that it stays that way!

I really hope that's the last boat of this year,
Me

Exotics

Buenos días from Juno Beach, Florida!

In our last episode, your Intrepid Birders were scouring Arizona grasslands for a Short-eared Owl. Alas, the owls were absent, but we did take a nice panorama of the grasslands to show you loyal readers what it's like:

Heading back to our campground, our hearts nearly stopped when we saw an owl sitting on the post of a guard rail right beside the road!

Alas again, it was a Great Horned Owl, a perfectly nice owl, but just not the one we wanted to find.

The next phase of this operation takes place in South Florida, so we relocated our truck and trailer to Tucson International Airport's Long-term Parking, and flew into Miami Beach from TUS.

Our targets are a few local resident birds, as well as a couple of strays from elsewhere. We started bright and early the next morning, seeking one of the locals, White-winged Parakeet. Like so many birds we've seen this year, these birds aren't native to North America (the only native parrot, the Carolina Parakeet, went extinct about 100 years ago due to loss of habitat and hunting). In this case, the parakeets were brought here from South America as pets, escaped or were released, and set up colonies in South Florida.

Now, while some of these flocks hang around bird-friendly places like the University of Miami or lush residential neighborhoods, some of the easiest to find are near the Miami airport at a bank/movie theater complex. So, your Urban Parakeet Experience goes something like this:

We took this standing across the street from the bank, looking across six lanes of traffic toward the trees where the parakeets like to hang out. What you can't quite tell, but which made this experience Very Miami, is that we're standing in a used car lot, which for some reason has speakers blaring Latin music (nothing makes me want to buy a car more than a little La Vida Loca, amirite?). And yet, while we were deafened by cars + planes + tunes, the parakeets seemed perfectly happy to fly around and just be parakeets. After about ninety minutes of stress-accelerating, non-stop noise, a flock of five of them flew overhead and landed in one of the palms. Yay!

Parakeet lovers will note the diagnostic white patches on the back of the wings.

Our next target was another escaped-now-established bird, the Spot-breasted Oriole. We have tried to find these little rascals at least three other times this year, but failed each time. So, after our Parakeet Experience, we drove up to Fort Lauderdale, to a cemetery where they had been reported consistently and frequently. No brainer, right?

After another two hours of wandering between headstones and mausoleums, the only interesting thing we found was at least 30-40 Green Iguana hanging out in the trees:

These things are huge; Wikipedia says they can be between 5-6 feet long and weigh up to 20 lbs, and I believe it. 

And when I say "hanging", I should mean "precariously balanced", because we actually saw two of them FALL out of the trees, at least 15-20 foot drops. A Local walking her Spaniel told us that she sees them fall out of trees all the time, and it freaks out her dog!

That aside, we needed a new plan for this oriole, so we retreated to a nearby Greek restaurant, Gyroville ("Authentically Greek" is their tag line, which is really reflected in the very Greek name they chose). Munching our gyros, we debated different approaches, and then refreshed our phones to see where else we could look.

Wait, there's a report from today. Just an hour ago! And it's not far away! And the name of the person who reported it is familiar... (think, think)...it's somebody we met in Texas a few weeks ago who was a very good birder! And he left precise directions in their report about where the orioles were seen! And he saw three of them!

So we pounded the last of our gyros, washed it down with some Authentically Greek Coca-Cola, and practically sprinted across the parking lot to our car. Twenty minutes later, we were standing at the place where the orioles were reported. And we heard something.

It didn't sound quite right, but it was similar enough to our recordings to pique our interest. We wandered about, trying to get a look at whatever was making that call, for about 30 minutes in the blazing sun before I saw a flash of movement deep in the brush. Could it be?

The movement slowly climbed higher, until it popped into view. Oriole shape? Check. Bright orange with black mask and throat? Check. Black spots on the breast? Check. Bingo!

So while I was trying to get a NatGeo-quality shot of the bird, The Wife was watching the whole scene.

"There's a 2nd one in there," she narrated, "Oh, wait, there's the 3rd. 1, 2, 3....no, there's a 4th. 1, 2, 3, 4...wait, there's a 5th! There are 3 up here, and 2...no 3 down there! Wow, there are 6 of them!"

If he ever reads this, here's a big Shout Out to Kyle for helping us find our first six Spot-breasted Orioles!

Now, we're in Juno Beach, about 20 minutes south of Jonathan Dickinson State Park, the place where a Smooth-billed Ani, a visitor from the Bahamas or elsewhere in the Caribbean, has been reported for several weeks. Hopefully we can locate him tomorrow morning!

And now, we're off to battle the local retirees for dinner at a popular local restaurant. We're hungry, and know how to use our elbows, so I think we'll be OK.

Thirsty Turtle, here we come!
Me

Bird Finding 201, Class #3: The Importance of Paying Attention!

Students, attention! Stop messing with your phones! Dr. Sayornis is in da house!

Well, my disciples, we have journeyed long and hard to reach this crossroads in our learning. This is our final lecture, and after today, I will continue onward to more great Bird Finding feats, while you will do...something. Whatever it is that you do. I'm sure it's fine. I don't judge.

In our recent lectures, I have sown several seeds in the fertile soil of your minds, digging into the importance of Time and of Place in Bird Finding. Today, I will dump a big steamy load of high-nutrient compost on these seeds, as you will learn the secret to transforming from a plebeian-grade bird finder into a Ninja Bird Finder Extraordinaire. Because, scientia ipsa potentia est.

Here's the secret: Pay Attention!

But wait, you say, quid est hoc? Actually, that's what *I* would say, as you students wouldn't know the Mother Tongue si momordit vos in nasi. Kids today! When I was a young scholar, school was for learning! Not socializing or playing the foot ball or whatever it is that goes on in "school" today! And if you didn't learn, the good Sister had a ruler that would beat Knowledge into you! But, I digress; mox nox in rem.

Now, the road to finding a bird is paved with feathers from the birds that you missed, so it's thick and fluffy and a little hard to walk upon. But, birds leave clues to their location and identity like a politician makes promises at election time, so just Pay Attention! and birds will literally jump out of trees at you.

To illustrate, let me regale you with tales of how the good Doc Say did or didn't find his bird due to attention.

In Florida, at Bahia Honda State Park, I was scanning trees for warblers when a cuckoo landed nearby. Having seen cuckoos many times before, I just glanced casually at the bird before walking on. I assumed it was a Yellow-billed Cuckoo, as I had seen these recently, but when I checked online to see how often they had been reported, I was shocked to discover that NONE had been reported. However, the elusive Mangrove Cuckoo, had been reported several times at the park! So did I have the first sighting of a Yellow-billed for the season, or my first ever Mangrove? I hadn't looked closely at the field marks, so I had no idea, and sadly had to eschew reporting it.

In Cave Creek, Arizona, I was strolling through a campground, watching the sky for hawks, when something caught my ear:


Unfamiliar with the sound, I traced it to a small branch high in a tree, only to be blazed by the iridescence of a Blue-throated Hummingbird! Had I not noticed the sound, I never would have seen that bird.

Sometimes, an unusual situation should cause your attention to be raised. Earlier this year, at Estero Llano Grande State Park in Texas, I unexpectedly discovered a large flock, a dozen or so, of Clay-colored Thrush feeding on ripe berries from anacua trees. Previously, I had only seen these one or two at a time, so I should have been more interested in studying them, but instead I walked onward. Just the next day, Rare Bird Alerts were afire with news that a very unusual White-throated Thrush had been seen in those anacua trees! Had I seen it? I don't know, because I wasn't freaking Paying Attention!

The last piece of advice I would have along these lines is semper paratus. You know better than to take your final exam without studying (don't you?!?!), so why would you venture into The Field without knowledge of what you might see? In Arizona, I was hiking a trail through dense mesquite brush, when a small warbler with a solid gray head and yellow chest popped into view. Knowing that these field marks could mean only one of a couple birds, I quickly looked for the definitive mark: indeed, he had a broken white eye ring, which could only mean a MacGillivray's Warbler! So, by knowing the field marks and what birds were likely in the area, a bird could be identified with only a brief glance.

And with that, our Bird Finding 201 class concludes. For your next Bird Finding Expedition, you will know to prepare in advance, go to the right habitats, spend the proper time, and dammit Pay Attention!

Now, go out there and make me proud,

Dr. Sayornis
In vino veritas

I Love It When A Plan Comes Together!

Estimado cocos,

Greetings from Key West, Florida, the center of the Conch Republic!

As our latest adventure is one bird and a few Piña Coladas short of wrapping up, I thought I might dip into The Mailbag to answer a few reader questions. This question is from Mallory, age 8, of Madison, Wisconsin:

Hey, Mr. Expert Bird Travel Planner,

I know I'm only 8, but someday I'll want to be a big-time bird finder like you. Can you tell me the best way to plan these trips you go on?

Besties,
Mallory

Great question, Mallory!

Instead of telling you how to successfully plan a trip, let me tell you how a pro like me does it:

Step 1: Figure out where you want to go, as this makes planning travel much easier. Let's say you want to go to the Dry Tortugas National Park, near Key West, FL.

Step 2: Reserve your plane tickets well in advance, at least 4 weeks to save as much $$$ as possible. (And Mallory, you may not know it yet, but you will soon learn to love $$$)

Step 3: A few days in advance, book all your hotels and ferry trip. Be sure to make the hotel reservation non-refundable, also to save $$$.

Step 4: A day ahead of your flight, check the weather. There's a good chance that the weather is going to be terrible for the day of your ferry trip. So, now you reschedule everything! But remember, it's non-refundable!

Step 5: Call the hotel for the first night, politely ask that they move your non-refundable reservation to later in the week. Get told that the night clerk doesn't have the authority, so you must call back in the morning. Unfortunately, the manager doesn't arrive until after you have to leave for the airport.

Step 6: At the airport, call the manager. If he's nice, he'll tell you OK, but he may take one of the two days you paid as a penalty. Of course he will. But at least you get half back.

Step 7: Now you can reschedule your ferry, which you must do before you board the plane, else the window to change without fee will pass. Of course, you will get connected to a brand-new operator, so the call will take much longer than you expect.

Step 8: Upon arriving at your destination, you may reschedule everything else. Meanwhile, the Weather Gods dump buckets of rain on your heads for the next couple days, and you pat yourself on the back for remembering to check the forecast! (although maybe we'll check it a little earlier next time...)

And that, Mallory, is how to have a smooth and stress-free trip to the Dry Tortugas.

Isn't it worth it for a couple (thousand) of these beauties?

The Brown Noddy is yet another bird that goes a little heavy on the eye liner (may need to click the pic to see this), see also Oystercatcher.

And when you manage to find a rare Black Noddy in the group of maybe a few thousand Brown Noddies, then it's especially worth it!

The Black Noddy has the bright white head and is perched just to the right of center. If you click the photo to open it, you can see the very blurred birds in the sky. Either the blurring is due to heat waves, or the birds are Ghost Noddies. You decide.

Now, to the Coladas! Bottom's up!
Me

Most Extreme Bird Finding Challenge

Dear Hollywood,

The world is tired of overplayed reality show themes. People are sick of concepts like, "Put ten sexy college students in a house and watch them fight/make out" or "Put twelve sexy athletes on  an island and see who survives". What the public wants is something more dramatic and action-oriented!

With this in mind, I am giving you a limited-time offer to buy the rights to our new game show: Most Extreme Bird Finding Challenge! Think 24 meets Wild Kingdom!!!

Contestants have a limited time to find a wild animal, or else something bad happens. Here's a real-life example of how this might work:

Our contestants start the morning in Boca Raton, FL (Note to Producer: we start with the usual "get to know them" background). They first do a little warm-up birding during which they discover that Spot-breasted Orioles can only be found at daybreak, an hour before they got to the park (show that characters may fail). Then, the Challenge is revealed: Find an Egyptian Goose before the clock runs out and their flight home departs! They must leave by 3:00pm to catch the flight, so they only have a few hours. Let's see how it plays out:

11:30am :: Whipping out their phones, they find several reports within 20 miles, and plot a course through a number of parks toward the airport. They jump into the car and speed off through town (but not too fast, of course).

11:43am :: Confident, our contestants detour to V & S Italian Deli, for some tasty sandwiches. Just beating the lunch crowd, they're in and out in 15 minutes. (See the local sponsorship opportunities?)

12:16pm, Tradewinds Park :: So confident, they choose a shady picnic table to enjoy their sandwiches, and even pull a couple beers (more sponsorship) out of the cooler.This will be a breeze! Or will it?

12:51pm :: Beers and sandwiches gone, they have scoured the park, but no goose. Onward!

1:07pm, Pompano Community Park :: Tiny little park, so easy to scan. But not so easy to find a goose...

1:39pm, Skolnick Community Center :: Bad info! There is no Center, just condo towers. Retreat! (We have other tricks we can use on contestants)

1:46pm :: Jetting toward the next locale, a bird is spied on a canal as they drive over the bridge. Back up! That's it... nooooo, it's a decoy!!! (Example 2)

2:03pm, Chevron station adjacent to Caporella Park :: They run past a car wash, past a young African-American man calling, "Come get your car washed! New car or old car, we don't discriminate! Although they's gonna discriminate against us!". But scanning shore to shore, they come up empty. (Note brand usage for sponsorship. Also, local color adds some depth to the program, opportunities for recurring characters)

2:11pm, Royal Palm Park :: It was just seen a few days ago, but not now!

2:32pm, Plantation Preserve Golf Course :: Last chance! Less than 30 min to find the bird! But where to look?

2:35pm :: Contestants have to go into the Pro Shop and wait in line to ask where the trail is. (Getting info could also involve contestants having to do mini-games to win money to pay locals for tips)

2:44pm ::  Practically running down the mile-long path, they spy a promising shape in the distance... could it be? Nooo! it's a goose-shaped rock!

2:48pm :: Practically sprinting, he scans one side of the trail, she takes the other. And rounding a corner...there it is! The Egyptian Goose, on the bank of the pond! But now they only have 12 minutes to get back to the car!

2:58pm :: Back at the car, we have winners!

If needed, we have lots of ideas for making this more edgy. We could add alcohol (take a shot every time you miss seeing the bird!), guns (find the bird before the hunter does!), and/or bikinis (MEBFC: Hawaii).

I'll have my people call your people, and let's get this deal done.

Thanks,
Me

Birds are Entitled, Selfish Little Brats

Top 'o the morning to ya,

The last few days saw us cruising from hotspot to hotspot, trying to pick off a few more Florida specialities before we left. From shoreline, to grassland, to swamp, to pine forest, we've seen about all that South Florida has to offer. That is, at least in terms of ecosystems; we did not check out other such presumably fine and heavily advertised Florida locales as, "Crazy Horse" or "Cheetahs", although it sounds like there is some interesting wildlife there.

A common thread tying many of the Florida specialities with rare birds across the country is that many of them have declined precipitously in population over the not-too-distant past. For instance, the Red-Cockaded Woodpecker (which we saw!) is officially Endangered, having declined from more than 1 million nesting groups across the South to maybe 4,000.

Another example is the Florida Scrub-Jay, the only bird found exclusively in Florida. It has seen its population decline by as much as 90% in the past century, to just a few thousand nesting pairs. Thanks to eBird and some luck, we found this gorgeous bird in a residential neighborhood north of Fort Myers:

Why are these declines happening? Well, in reality, we have nobody to blame but the birds themselves.

Our Red-Cockaded Woodpecker, for example, prefers to live in old pine trees that have a specific disease, rendering the wood soft enough for them to peck out. Seriously, talk about a prima donna.

The Florida Scrub-Jay wants to live in open landscapes dominated by small oak trees, brush, and grasslands. The only way to get this kind of space in Florida is not to develop land, and then have wildfires burn through every few years to keep the growth down. Who really wants that? Even other birds hate the Florida Scrub-Jay for this.

The sub-species of Red Knot that travels through North America decided that they must breed in the Arctic and winter in Tierra del Fuego, so they regularly migrate thousands of miles per year. This crazy bird decided that caviar was a requirement for their journey, in the form of eggs from Horseshoe Crabs. As Horseshoe Crabs make great fertilizer and bait, that species has declined significantly along the Atlantic coast, putting the rufa variety that travels through North America at risk of extinction. They can't expect to live a jet-setting lifestyle of long-distance travel and caviar forever, right?

And, remember our friend the Key West Quail-Dove, who has practically been eliminated from the Keys because it was tame and tasty? That's obviously just a dumb choice on their part.

I could go on, but I won't. The bad decisions these birds make are just pathetic. They really just need to look themselves in a mirror and decide if this is how they want to live their lives. OK, I'm over it now.

Playing the Blame Game,
Me

That's what friends are for

Karma is a Wise Sensei

Greetings, Shell-heads,

Buona sera, from Naples!

Florida, that is. We're on the west coast of Florida, which offers some of the best sea-shell-finding beaches in the country, let alone the world. That is, according to people who hunt for shells. And me, who glanced at the beach and saw more shells than I could shake a stick at!

Our last two days have seen Birding Highs and Birding Lows. The highest High was getting a brief but fantastically clear glimpse of a Key West Quail-Dove yesterday at Long Key State Park.

Allow me to lay down some facts that illustrate how crazy rare this guy is:

The last Florida record for one of these was 2002. There were 4 (four) records in the 1900s of the bird in Florida, but none in the Keys. The bird bred in the Keys until the late 1800s, but was exterminated because they're apparently easy to shoot and good eating. They have hid out on some Caribbean islands, but almost never come here any more.

Do you feel factualized now? Do you get the monumentality of this???

Apparently 2 or 3 of these doves have been hanging out in the Keys for a few months--they heard about our new attitude toward Cuba, and wanted to be among the first visitors here--, and we took a shot at finding them. Thanks to a wonderfully nice birder from Massachusetts, our first view was about 5-10 seconds long, and nearly as good as this. Our second view, the next day and without Mr. Massachusetts, was more like this one.

The Low was spending all afternoon at Bahia Honda State Park, finding a total of 5 birds (not species, actual birds). Burning 5+ hours of your trip and getting fewer than 1 bird per hour was somewhat demoralizing. That said, there are many worse places in the world to spend an afternoon than Bahia Honda, and one of the birds was a Magnificent Frigatebird:

Our model, Julio, is sporting this spring's newest look: a sexy red cravat!

But, this post is about Karma. Many birders believe that Karma is a Thing; do something good and proper, and the Birding Gods will reward you. Here is how this works:

Today, we were at Everglades National Park, trying to find a Limpkin(*), a somewhat rare and hard-to-find denizen of Florida swamps. We hunted and hunted, and happened to see a glimpse of something in the underbrush. It was skulking like a Limpkin. It was brownish like a Limpkin. Walks like a duck, colored like a duck, is it a duck? Oh, probably... so we checked Limpkin off our year list.

A while later, feeling guilty at not seeing it better and maybe calling it prematurely, we decided that maybe a better view was desired. Returning to the area where we'd sighted it, we waited quietly. After only a few minutes, we again heard something skulking, and peered through thick grasses into the dark to see it. With a few changes of angle, we finally figured out what it was: American Bittern! A great bird to see, but not exactly what we wanted. So, we took Limpkin off the list.

Happy that we'd done the right thing, but somewhat sad at missing out on a Limpkin, we took off for the 75-mile drive to our hotel. Nearly to our destination, I had a glimpse of something in a canal next to the road. Could it be??? Nah... Limpkins don't hang out in the open! But at Her recommendation, I swung the car around and drove back to where I'd seen the mirage. Pulling onto the shoulder of the busy highway (but at a safe distance from traffic, Mom!), we scanned the ditch to discover not one, not two, not three, but EIGHT Limpkins hunting for snails:

Yay, Limpkin!

Thus, I say Karma is not a Bitch, Karma is a Gentle Grandfather, looking over your shoulder, and giving you a nice piece of candy when you do the right thing.

Otherwise, the past few days have included a number of amusing people encounters(**), and birds such as Northern Parula and Lesser Black-backed Gull. Tomorrow, our destination is the famous Audubon Corkscrew Swamp Preserve, and maybe Sanibel Island in the afternoon.

Good shelling,
Me


(*) The Limpkin has a distinctive scream and stars in several movies, including "The Incredibles" and "Harry Potter: Prisoner of Azkaban".

(**) People encounters!
From the "Boys Will Be Boys" department, overheard at breakfast at our hotel:

Boy, about 7-8 years old: "Dad, are we really going to the aquarium?" (I suspect they were going here)
Dad: "Yes, son."
Boy: "I hope we see a shark."
Dad: "Uh, we probably will."
Boy: "If we see a shark, I'm going to punch it in the eye! And then turn it on its back and punch it in the belly!"

From the "Girls Will Be Girls" department, overheard as two teen-age girls rode by us on bikes later in the day:

Girl 1: "I really like that hat you bought."
Girl 2: "I know! It has tassles! And they're gold! And sparkly! Isn't it amazing?!?!?!"

Florida, 30 hours in

Dear Parrotheads,

Hola from Homestead, Florida! We've been on the ground here for just about 30 hours, and have already seen 19 new bird for the year, out of 65 total species. Oh, and we also did interviews for our Global Entry permits and of course had some interesting encounters with Floridians.

Some "quirks" we noticed just last night include:

• They love their car horns, and so use them frequently. I haven't heard so many horns in a month of Bay Area traffic.
• In a parking lot of one-way lanes, parking backwards is apparently A Thing. Imagine your favorite grocery store parking lot, with each lane headed a single direction and parking stalls angled toward traffic. Now, imagine driving past a spot, and then backing into (and making traffic behind you wait) it so you're facing the wrong direction. We saw this three times in two hours. Why do they do it? Because, Florida!
• They don't seem to realize that since LeBron James is no longer with the Miami Heat, the Heat are terrible. We went to a Homestead pub last night for dinner, and the place was packed with Heat fans watching that night's game. The Crown Jewel of Heat fans sat near us, wearing his white Heat hat and white jersey, with ragged white shorts and white hi-tops. The Heat have a player nicknamed "The Birdman", and every time he touched the ball, SuperFan shouted, "BiiiirrrdddMannnnn!" and then attempted to coo like a dove. It was amusing for the first 5 minutes, less so throughout the next hour. Seriously, take the guy from Offspring's Pretty Fly (For a White Guy) video, add 25 lbs and a few years, and that's SuperFan.

For more on South Florida and its denizens, I recommend books by Carl Hiassen. We've read a few and they're highly entertaining.

The birds have been great, too. 

Apparently, Black Vultures have a thing for rubber, so frequent visitors to the Everglades put tarps on their cars, which appears to just attract the vultures:

Sometimes the herons bite off a little more than they can chew:

Highlight of today was staying after dark in Everglades, getting to hear a Chuck-wills-widow call while watching fireflies flash about! Of course, while slapping at bugs that apparently eat DEET for lunch.

Down to the Keys tomorrow! 

Good birding, 

Me