IN an effort to keep this new blog series, and blog, wonderfully lame and unhelpful, here are some photos I poached from Google Images. I added eight birds to my list this year, mostly just on accident, by sheer virtue of being outside for substantial chunks of time with my eyes and ears open, which I highly recommend. I'm up to about 265 birds, depending on how you count 'em, and I've still seen more in 18 months of living in Bolivia than a lifetime in Indiana/Michigan. Nine of them I spotted in both continents, which was a weird feeling.
Ruffed grouse. Saw this guy in a youngish deciduous/pine forest in northern Lower Peninsula Michigan. Heard him first... it stopped me running, dead in my tracks, and for a brief instant I couldn't tell whether it was a grouse or my beating heart. Loved that.
Saw a Northern Harrier fly by while riding in a car. ID'd by my
professor, who noticed that white rump, and the fact that it was
cruising low to the ground. It is always surprising to me how easy it
often is to identify a species by a very distinct habit, habitat, or
coloration. When you spot a bird, quickly note the most striking
coloration, and strange shape or flight pattern. Remember that habitat
as well, and you're well on your way. In the guide books, it will say
something like (for another bird) "These little bugger are seen running
frantically on the shoreline, nervously bobbing their tails." Sure
enough - ID'd him.
You can actually hunt these guys, which must be fun, if not insanely difficult. Woodcocks burst off the floor when you are just about to step on them. They have an amazing courtship ritual which I have never seen, though the description by Aldo Leopold is beautiful in itself. Don't confuse them with the next bird...
Yes, Virginia, you really can go Snipe hunting. A similar burst-from-the-ground escape tactic, but a more marshy habitat, different coloration, bill, etc. You'd have to be a really good shot... where do you think the term "sniper" came from, eh?
Saw this beautiful Bufflehead this spring on its migration northward. He was just chillin' on Taylor Lake (campus), but he must have been through a hunting season or two, for he took off as soon as he sensed my presence. With the help of a few friends, I figured out what I had seen.
Rails, like this Sora, are usually impossible to see, though you may hear them calling at the marsh, tucked away invisibly in the cattails. I scared one up and it only puttered away about 20 feet behind a couple cattails, allowing me a long gaze. Maybe I was right next to the nest? I did spot a cute all-black chick darting between some vegetation.
Again, I noted just a couple observations about color and behavior and the guidebook did the rest. Solitary Sandpiper, feeding on the exposed mudflats of a reservoir, southbound. Granted, this seemed to me more difficult in Bolivia, where you are faced with perhaps a half dozen varieties instead of, say, just two likely candidates.
Greater Yellowlegs. At the same mudflat I saw the sandpiper in. Another migrant.
Ok, I know these are birds that experienced birders picked up on their 3rd grade field trip, but it was fun to add a few to the list without even trying too hard. Luckily, my work puts me out of doors for hours at a time. Poor compensation, but this made up for it!
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