Occasional Jots and Tittles

I’d honestly thought finishing the legislative session would have freed me up to have more time for my blog. Instead, it seems like it’s been non-stop one project after another.

First was the anniversary party for my folks, which took us up to July, and I hit the ground running launching our new software company. It’s one of those specialized products that only a handful of companies are likely to need, but for those who do, it could be a no-brainer to buy, so I’ve got my fingers crossed. The preliminary modules and the framework for the system as a whole have been released.

That’s involved Jonathan going to Houston for a week to train staff at one of our first installations, and I’ll probably get to go over there myself soon. Hope to head west from there to pick up some west Texas birds this fall.

Then there was the Feliciana Hummingbird Celebration, at which I’ve helped as a banding assistant for the last four years. Numbers were up this year from last year, though not to what they once were; we banded 18 new birds and had one returnee female from two years ago. It was an interesting turnout and I got to answer a lot of questions for folks. A crew from the Rural Broadcasting Service (which provides regional content to small cable system operators) filmed a piece on the festival, including a nice section on us banding the birds.

I’ve also been mapping out travel plans for the rest of the year. Originally I thought I wouldn’t be able to travel much, but I’ll be making a short trip to San Francisco and the Wine Country with my friend Damon in September. While there I’ll get in a few days of birding with my friend Kevin, and hope to have dinner with the Woofpup boy. Later in November, I’m going back to south Texas with my friends Jeff and Jerry, and my brother-in-law Mark, for some border birding. So vacation is taken care of.

Lastly I’ve actually been using my Facebook page to keep up with what other people are doing, although I haven’t posted much to mine.

A bit late posting, but last week I saw my 400th ABA-area bird.

For the handful of you still reading who don’t know, the American Birding Association “area” includes, basically, the United States and Canada – or put another way, North America north of Mexico.

Somewhere over 900 birds have been seen in the ABA region, many of them only a handful of times, some only once or twice. So I’m probably pretty close to having seen half of the regularly occurring birds in the area.
My goal is to add 50 more to that this year; I don’t know if I can make it, but I can certainly have a lot of fun trying.

Oh, and that 400th bird? Long-tailed Duck, formerly known by the politically incorrect name “Oldsquaw”.

January can sometimes seem the drabbest month here. It’s not about the cold (our snow day was a once-in-a-decade event), but the overall gray cast to everything. Once in a while we have blue skies and sunshine, but even our warm days have a kind of dreariness to them. Even our winter birds, for the most part, are in their drabbest colors.
For some, though, drab colors are still fairly bright and eye-catching, especially on birds that don’t normally winter this far north. A few years ago, I had an adult male Baltimore Oriole show up in January – something we don’t often see in Baton Rouge. Today, I had a young male show up (one hatched last summer). We know this because of his plumage; once he’s reached his adult, breeding plumage, he’ll keep that year-round. But you can already see hints of the brilliant orange and black he’ll turn out to be, by about March or April.

(with apologies to Norma Desmond)

Christmas, and the post-Christmas weeks, were incredibly busy this year, so apologies to my hordes of fans (all three or four of you) for the lack of updates recently.

Jonathan outdid himself again this year with the Christmas lights.

We spent most of the Christmas week driving back and forth to my sister’s and my parents’ houses, for one event after another. Between the driving and the overflow of children (whom I love, but really….), and the time demands, we’ve already decided to cut back on family events for next year.

In the midst of all that, I did two Christmas Bird Counts this year. I’m the compiler for the count in Baton Rouge, which is usually a well-attended but not particularly exciting count. However, this year, I found an Ash-throated Flycatcher, which was only the second of this species ever recorded on our count (another party had the third, in another section of our circle). Unfortunately, no pictures of this bird yet.

Jonathan is now off at MAL, assisting good friends at their vendor booth this year. I’m sitting here freezing, as Baton Rouge has finally had a couple of sub-freezing nights, which have largely frozen back most of the hummingbird plants. However, that’s driven what may be a new hummingbird to the feeders; I say “may” because she (a female Rufous Hummingbird) appears to be banded, and there’s a chance that she’s the bird I’ve had since Election Day, but having lost her color mark. Or she could be a returnee from some other point in the past. We won’t know unless we recapture her to check her band number.

Not all birders keep lists; I’m not as compulsive as some people, but I do keep a lifelist and state lists for each state where I’ve birded more than casually. I also try to keep tabs on “first arrivals” for migrants in my yard, if not overall, to get a better picture of my local ecology.

But the biggie, of course, is the lifelist, where every species you’ve seen is recorded. When I stopped birding at the end of my freshman year of college, I had 179 life birds; not bad for someone who’d only birded his own yard, the LSU campus, and a couple of other spots on field trips from school. I picked up a couple of other birds just in passing, in 1996 and in 2000, but started back “semi-seriously” birding in June of 2004.

At the end of 2007, I’d reached 289 birds, or 110 more than when I left off – and that included a very productive trip to California where I saw 26 lifers, or more than 1/4 of the total year gain over three and a half years. I made a goal for myself to pick up 111 lifers in 2008 – one more than the “recent years” total, and coincidentally enough to put me at 400 birds total.

The biggest leaps forward on that front came through four trips I took: one to the Upper Texas Coast in April, another to Grande Isle, La. also in April; the Taste of Arizona trip in August; and the Journey West in November. In fact, with a little more luck on the Taste of Arizona trip (where being with a non-birder made it difficult to spend a lot of time hiking trails, etc. for hot specialties) or on the Journey West (where a combination of park closings and park events led to some strikeouts on specially targeted birds), I’d have hit the 400 mark easily.

As it is, five days into December, I’m at 397 birds. Twenty-five days is a lot of time to get three lifers, except that virtually every common wintering bird in Louisiana is already on my life list. (Note: I still need plenty of those on my STATE list – I’ve seen them elsewhere, but not here – but seeing the bird again here wouldn’t up my lifelist count.) I’ve identified a small handful of birds that may be gettable with some work, and some help from birders who know the areas where they’re likely to be found. So I haven’t missed the mark yet — wish me luck, people, I’m gonna need it!

Note: A good while back (in September, 2006) I wrote about Ten U.S. Land Birds I Want to See. I decided to go back and look up that post; of the ten, I’ve since seen seven. The three I haven’t gotten so far are Scott’s Oriole (missed on Taste of Arizona trip), Black-throated Blue Warbler (hard to get anywhere east of the east coast) and Mountain Bluebird (missed on the Journey West). At least, though, that gives me some high-value target birds to aim for on future trips.

Back from my trip late Sunday night, but I’m just getting around to writing anything about it. This was a longer trip, and because it was all by car on the outbound part, it was tiring. But it was interesting to see parts of the country I’d never seen (like south Texas) and I managed to set foot in one new state (New Mexico), although only briefly, at a stop for bathroom break and cold drinks.

Birding in Texas was great – although we missed a few birds we’d hoped for, we nonetheless saw nearly every one of the “specialty” birds of the Lower Rio Grande Valley. I hadn’t realized how far apart some of the birding spots are down there– I assumed it was all within, oh, an hour’s drive from one end to the other. Silly me.

Anyway: I didn’t get nearly as many pictures of stuff as I’d have liked, but here are some of the more interesting birds I saw.

I first dragged out the camera to get shots of Green Jays, perhaps one of the most visible, iconic birds of the area, at Laguna Atascosa:

And although it was a bird I’ve seen many times before, even in Louisiana, I couldn’t resist taking a picture of this Wilson’s Warbler bathing:

At the same site was this female Painted Bunting, a bird we see spring through fall in Louisiana but rarely in winter:

As we moved deeper into this refuge, we got close looks (and a few good shots) of this Osprey:

Pictures at many of the other refuges didn’t turn out as well (though I’m hoping to get some from the other guys on the trip), and at some places it just wasn’t easy to get the camera gear out and ready for the good birds. Late in the Texas part of the trip, however, we stopped at a key birding hotspot at Salineno, a small tract of land which was sold to the US Fish and Wildlife Service some years ago. The sellers retained lifetime “trespass” rights to keep their motor home on the property in the winter and to run the bird feeding stations; the last few years, someone else has taken over that job for them, but the place is still welcoming. We had the nicest visit here, and I got some of my better shots.

Although I’d seen Hooded Orioles in Arizona, they were new to me for Texas; I got good looks at both male and female:

We’d also already seen Altamira Orioles (only found in south Texas) on this trip, but we got much better looks here:

Two types of doves, the White-tipped and the Inca, were present as well. The White-tipped is also limited to south Texas.

And again, although I’d seen them in other spots on the trip, we got our best looks ever at the Great Kiskadee, a large flycatcher who nonetheless seems to enjoy peanut butter:

We visited many other sites in Texas, but by mid-day Wednesday we had to be moving on, so that we could be in Chandler, AZ by Thursday afternoon for Thanksgiving and for Rob to pack for moving.

I spent Friday, Saturday, and part of Sunday birding in Arizona, mostly north of where I’d been in August. Only bird pictures, however, come from Boyce-Thompson State Park and Arboretum, where I saw this Verdin:

And although Arizona is noted for hummingbirds, there aren’t as many around in the winter. I did get a few shots, though, of this beautiful adult male Broad-billed Hummingbird.

By Sunday mid-day, I was ready to head home. I love traveling, and I love birding, but it was time to be on my way back, and I really missed Jonathan. I came home not only to a cleaned living room, but he’d already bought our Christmas tree, mostly decorated it, and had all the outdoor christmas lights up. Pictures of Christmas stuff to come soon. I couldn’t ask for more – gotta love that boy.

Tomorrow (Saturday) I depart on another birding trip, this one to Texas and points west.

Rob and Jon, who met me in Tucson to bird in Arizona, and Rob’s partner Tom will be driving through Baton Rouge from Birmingham to Phoenix, to collect the rest of Rob’s belongings (he’s resettled in B’ham). They’re detouring through the lower Rio Grande Valley, and when they mentioned the trip, I half-jokingly suggested they stop on the way and pick me up. They took me up on the suggestion, and I’ll ride with them down to Texas for the birding there. Assuming none of them are ready to kill me, I’ll ride on to Phoenix with them, and fly back from there – but I’ve got the option of flying back from almost any Southwest airport along the way since the only tickets available were refundable.

We’ll pass through New Mexico – my first time in that state – and I may end up staying through Sunday after Thanksgiving in Arizona to pick up some birds I haven’t seen yet. All in all, it should be a fun trip.

A few weeks ago, the last of the fall migrants filtered through my backyard. While there may be a few stragglers out there somewhere, and some of them may end up spending the winter (I hope!), I’ve probably seen the last of the ones “moving through”.

So I was happy that my last migrant visitor turned out to be a pretty one – a male Summer Tanager – and he chose to visit the bird bath we installed next to our fish pond specifically to attract visitors.

Saturday morning, we headed for Ramsey Canyon Preserve, a Nature Conservancy site which was once called the Mile Hi Ranch. The guest quarters are now a private concern (the Ramsey Canyon Inn). Twenty twenty-five thirty years ago, when I started birding, this was considered the hummingbird capital of the world, with as many as twelve species present regularly during the peak months. The preserve is still a birding hotspot.

Or rather, it can be, but on nice days like when we went, the place was overrun with families bringing children to experience nature. Unfortunately, most parents today don’t seem to grasp the concept that it’s hard to experience nature when your rugrats are running, screaming, and crying the entire time, as most wildlife quickly scatters and you can’t even enjoy the sounds of a creek rushing by.

Once we got far enough away from children, I did get a good look at more deer:

And even though you could barely hear it at times, the creek was actually rather pretty:

And we did see a fair number of hummingbirds, though virtually all were either Black-chinned, Broad-billed, or Anna’s – the three most common species in the region, and ones you can spot almost anywhere. It became clear that we needed to hit some of the more recently discovered spots, places where hummingbird variety is still the norm.

So off we went to Miller Canyon, to the Beatty’s Miller Canyon Guest Ranch, probably the best spot in the United States to see a diversity of hummingbirds. The Beatty family runs an apple orchard and bee farm/honey operation up in Miller Canyon, and many years ago, learned that their property was a key spot for attracting hummingbirds, including a few that are seldom seen elsewhere in the United States. In what has become a tradition for yards like this in Arizona, the Beattys opened their orchard to visitors. Not only do they accept donations for the sugar fund, but they sell apples, honey, and other products from the orchard from the front porch of their welcome building. If there’s nobody at the building, they leave a change box and ask you to write down what you bought and put the money in the box. I can’t imagine the trust that must require – and yet Mr. Beatty told us it’s seldom abused.

Anyway, a short hike up into the orchard (which grows on a hillside in the canyon) is a comfortable sitting area surrounded by about 15 hummingbird feeders. And scores of hummingbirds on the feeders at all times, probably representing a few hundred in the immediate area of the feeders all the time. I saw ten species at this one site–and finally, for once, I got pictures of many of them. They include the Violet-crowned, which we’d already seen at the Paton’s house, but which made for a good picture here:

In addition, we caught great views of the Magnificent Hummingbird, one of the largest in the United States. Here, one’s pictured with two Black-chinned Hummingbirds nearby for comparison in size:

There were also numerous Broad-billed and Broad-tailed Hummingbirds at the feeders. Here a female Broad-billed shares a meal with a male Broad-tailed.

Although I’m not as pleased with this shot, there were plenty of Anna’s Hummingbirds present as well:

But the star of the show at Beatty’s, as it is every year, is the spectacular White-eared Hummingbird. Although there are a few others every year in the region, finding them is incredibly difficult, if only because there is so much territory to search. But Beatty’s has hosted at least one or more of these birds for years now, and if you come at the right time of year, seeing it is a matter of waiting 10 to 15 minutes, rather than searching for weeks in the fields.

After a few hours of entertainment here, we finally left and headed to our final birding destination: still another yard, opened to birders by a gracious homeowner, this time the only spot easy to find a Lucifer Hummingbird. Unfortunately, lighting in this yard didn’t lend itself to taking pictures easily, but we still got excellent views of two Lucifers, male and female, along with the usual suspects.

At this point, we decided it was time to pack it in, get some rest, and prepare to return home the next morning. In my four short days in Arizona, I saw thirty life species, at least that many others I had already seen, and got my first taste of the mountain-desert region of southeast Arizona. I’ve already started planning my return in 2009.

For some reason, I didn’t take any pictures of the place we stayed the rest of our journey, but I also highly recommend it to anyone who goes to south Arizona for birding. The Casa de San Pedro is a small inn, run by a charming couple (Karl and Patrick) who, while not hard-core birders themselves, both enjoy birdwatching and know how to cater to birders. The guest rooms are more like a traditional hotel (in-suite bathrooms, modern amenities, etc.) but they’re joined to a wonderful great room / kitchen / dining room space, making it feel more like a traditional bed and breakfast. Speaking of breakfast – it’s not the typical buffet or continental much fest; it’s a sit-down, served full-meal breakfast that fills you up. There are feeders around the lodge, including outside the dining room windows, so birders can get an early start watching what’s outside before heading out to more exotic locales.

We chose to spend Friday focused more on historical and touristy pursuits, partly because I felt guilty about dragging Damon out to all these bird spots. So our first stop Friday was Old Bisbee, the original part of the town of Bisbee, once a major mining center in southeast Arizona. The old part of town is now a tourist attraction, mini-arts&crafts mecca, and all-around bohemian sort of place.

Nestled in the hills, Old Bisbee is marked by a giant “B” marked in the dirt on a hill above downtown:

And one of its signature attractions is the Art Deco-style 1935 statue “Iron Man” celebrating the mine workers:

One attraction we didn’t visit, mainly for time constraints, was the Bisbee Mining and Historical Museum. It looked like a pretty nice attraction, though – it’s a local affiliate of the Smithsonian, so I assume that means it has to maintain some standards.

However, we did make a quick pass through the local historical association’s “museum” – which, like many small-town historical association museums, is full of clutter and junk, arranged in a strange order and with no connection between items other than it all came from the locals. Don’t get me wrong – preserving this sort of stuff is important, and if you dig through it hard enough, a good historian could assemble some interesting exhibits on life in Bisbee at various points in the past – but it’ll take a long time and a lot of sorting to get there. (And someone needs to explain to these wonderful folks and all those like them that you don’t have to cram every single object you own into public exhibition space. You get people to come back by rotating exhibits and showing different things, with different themes, at different times.

Still, one artifact caught my eye. This early typewriter has the QWERTY keyboard layout we expect, but there’s no shift key function. Instead, there’s a second set of keys for upper-case letters. Additionally, the numerals zero and one are missing, because typists didn’t distinguish between a lower-case “L” and one, or between an upper-case “O” and zero. Instead, there are a variety of fractions (1/8, 3/8, 5/8, 7/8, 1/4, 1/2, and 3/4) and the cents symbol (¢).

So, we left Old Bisbee, and headed out towards Tombstone. We knew going in that Tombstone (and the OK Corral) would be a tourist trap, and in that, we were not disappointed. However, I was surprised how much I learned about Tombstone, the gunfight, and more.

For starters, I’d always pictured Tombstone as a town in the middle of the desert, the way it’s pictured in the movies, and the OK Corral as a sort of round, fenced enclosure for horses out at the edge of town. Kind of like this:

Surprisingly, the OK Corral was actually a stableyard, in town (though admittedly close to the edge of the town at the time of the gunfight). It was a place where carriages could be stored for people staying in the town’s hotels or other accomodations, and where horses could be stabled during a visit to town. In fact, most of the walls of the corral were formed by the buildings on either side of it, with only gates at each end (the corral reaches from one side of the block to the other).

More surprisingly, the famed gunfight did not take place in the corral itself. Although some of the gunfighters crossed through the corral on the way to the fight, the shooting took place in an alley between two other buildings, one of which also bordered on the OK Corral. Although I don’t think “Gunfight in the Alley by a Building Next to the OK Corral” would have been as big a hit as a movie title.

Anyway, the spot where the actual fight took place is marked on the sidewalk at the street:

And just down the street, a sign marks the location of the actual corral, which has largely been restored:

Naturally, the site’s kept closed off, so people can’t wander through without paying the admission fee, but for once, I thought it was worth it. Despite the tourist trap settings, including street vendors hustling carriage rides and such, it’s obvious a fair amount of research has gone into researching what actually happened at the gunfight.

At the time, Tombstone was the county seat of Cochise County, and it was a classic mining boom town, like San Franciso during the Gold Rush. Unfortunately, there were no other industries to keep the town going (unlike San Francisco’s shipping, for instance), and when the mines dried up (or, in one case, flooded out), the town almost died too. The handsome courthouse, however, has been restored as a museum.

Just outside of town is the famed Boot Hill Cemetery. I learned that this is actually a common name for cemeteries in the old West, where “dying with your boots on” generally meant you were killed, usually in a gunfight or other dubious circumstances, rather than dying peacefully in your sleep. Tombstone’s, though, is the most famous, partly because the dead from the OK Corral gunfight are buried there, partly because of some of the grave markers.

The three members of the Clanton “gang” killed at the OK Corral gunfight are buried side-by-side. Although general public opinion was that they got what was coming to them, one thing to remember is that family and friends generally get to write our epitaphs, and the Clanton gang made it clear what they believed happened (or at least what they wanted people to believe):

As for the other gravesites, they range from the quaint:

to the comedic:

to the poignant:

After Boot Hill, we headed back to the Inn, where we rested up for our final day of birding – with a special focus on hummingbirds.