Birdorable Guest Blogging Contest #10: Gunnar Engblom

Time for the final entry: this one comes to us from Gunnar Engblom and details the 11 Peruvian birds you must see. Thanks to everyone who entered; we'll have the voting poll up shortly!

Why Birds?

Birdwatching is a specialized hobby. The birdwatchers aim to see hundreds of birds during a holiday in Peru. However, there are certain birds that transcend to more normal tourists. Some birds that you don't have to be a birdwatcher to appreciate. Those birds that will leave an impact on anyone who lays eyes on them. These kinds of birds become banner species and tourist attractions and could be decisive to turn a non-birder into a birder. They are also important for conserving habitat and supporting local small scale businesses which often give direct revenue to local communities. I hereby present the 11 most important birds in Peru as tourism attractions.

Condor

Emblematic bird of the Andes. 100.000 people travel yearly to Colca Canyon near Arequipa to see the mighty Condor. Kolibri Expeditions have found a good viable population in Santa Eulalia canyon only 3 hours from Lima, which also is a good place to see this majestic bird. You'd be surprised to learn that most tourists that come Peru, and those that do not visit Colca or Santa Eulalia Canyon, will not see a condor in spite it being such a tremendously important symbol of Peru and the Andes. The closest they will get is hearing "Condor pasa" - the Peruvian song Simon and Garfunkel made world famous. At every little coffee shop to every fine restaurant in Cusco you will hear it played with panpipes and charrango. You cannot avoid it - not escape it! Strangely enough Peru has yet to raise the awareness of the importance of the species for eco-tourism in other rural areas. As such it may become an important cash cow for communities. This would change the present situation in many places where the species is persecuted and seriously threatened.

Macaw-lick

There are two major macaw-licks in SE Peru where these giant parrots descend on sunny clay river cliffs to ingest the clay with thousands of other parrots. The best one that attracts 5 species of macaws is situated in the Tambopata area near Tambopata Research Center.  There is extremely important Macaw research going on here and you can help as a participant volunteer. See Tambopata Macaw Project. The other important one is downriver from Manu at Blanquillo near in vicinity of several lodges.

Andean Cock-of-the-Rock

Wow! Exclamation mark is necessary! This surreal member of the Cotinga family has a wide distribution from Venezuela to Bolivia. It is one of the most colorful birds of the Andes. The males gather in "lek" - displays - where the perform ritual dances and make noisy grunts and shrieks. In many places leks have become tourism attractions. The most famous is perhaps next to Cock-of-the-Rock Lodge, but there are several places in Central and Northern Peru where leks also can be seen. Locally, it has become good incentives to conserve forest. Since the cock-of-the-rock is also un-officially national bird of Peru kids all over the country learn to appreciate it. Only five years ago, when traveling in Central Peru inquiring where I could see it, I was directed to the zoo or a man that allegedly had stuffed ones for sale! Things have changed now.

Inca Tern

Its coral red bill and feet, and yellow and white waxy mustache on a slaty blackish body makes the Inca Tern the most beautiful Tern of the world.  This specialty of the Humboldt Current is not difficult to see in large numbers. In many places it can be approached for a photograph.  A spectacular event on the Lima pelagics is when the fish scrap leftover that is used to attract seabirds at the high sea is thrown out after the boat and up to a thousand Inca Terns come in to the stern.

Hummingbird feeders

Peru has yet to develop more places with hummingbird feeders, but the ones available are truly spectacular. My favorites are the following.

Amazonia Lodge at the bottom of Manu road, with specialties such as the rare Rufous-crested Coquette, Koepcke's Hermit and Gould's Jewelfront and another dozen of more common hummers such as White-necked Jacobin, Blue Emerald, Gray-breasted Sabrewing and Black-eared Fairy come to the garden with feeders and blue vervain in front of the ample porch of the main building..

Machu Picchu Pueblo Hotel the luxurious hotel with precious subtropical gardens decorated with orchids and bromeliads at the foot of Machu Picchu next to Aguas Calientes village. The hotel also have dozens of well maintained hummingbird feeders spread out in the compound open only to its guests. The specialties include Gould's Inca, White-bellied Hummingbird, Long-tailed Sylph, Chestnut-breasted Coronet and Booted Racket-tail.

Cock-of the-Rock Lodge on the Manu road, has a open veranda dining room looking out to the garden where tanagers are fed and Blue Vervain and feeders attract the hummingbirds. The specialties include Violet-fronted Brilliant, Many-spotted Hummingbird, Wire-crested Thorn-tail, Booted Racket-tail and many more.

Marvelous Spatuletail

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Df8jhng3xgQ[/youtube]

If I should choose just one hummingbird species in Peru this would be the one. It is the most spectacular Hummingbird in Peru. The male has long streamers ending in blue rackets. It may not yet be a large tourist attraction since it occurs only in Amazonas department and a bit off the beaten track for most general tourists coming to Peru, but it is certainly on the birdwatcher's radar on the Northern Birding Circuit and the principle attraction. Kolibri Expeditions has initiated a project here together with local farmer Santos Montenegro obtaining funds through our clients allowing Santos to buy some land from his neighbors. The idea is to turn the small reserve to a Hummingbird information center.

Chilean Flamingo

Flamingos are big tourist attractions all over the world, and the Chilean Flamingo in Peru is not an exception, especially since legend has that the flamingos San Martin saw in Paracas before leading the liberation from Spain, inspired to the design of the Peruvian flag. There is not a person in Peru, that is not familiar with this story. Unfortunately, many flamingo colonies are well off the beaten track, except that of wintering flamingos still present at the Paracas bay. One may hope however those remote flamingo colonies could be integrated in sustainable tourism packages and this way supply income to local communities at the same time protecting the colonies. The practice common is the past to scare the colony to take flight for a photograph, is fortunately no longer carried out. It seems to me that Peruvian awareness for the well being of the natural attractions has increased in recent years.

Hoatzin

Without being a particularly rare bird, the Hoatzin inhabits lake sides. It prehistoric looks, similar to the Archaeopteryx and the fact that the young have claws in the wings, make it a tantalizing. The hisses it makes add to its pre-historic image. It occurs in colonies and is mostly not hunted because its meat is smelly and not good. It has constantly bad breath as its digest is completely leaves which are fermented in the crop. Hoatzin can be seen in many places in the Amazon. Most photogenic perhaps at Amazonia Lodge.

Humboldt Penguin

Paracas has been the traditional place where many tourists come in contact with the species for the first time while visiting the sea-lion colonies at Ballestas Islands. In recent years however trips have been arranged to sea-lion colony at Islas Palomino from Callao, Lima, where also the Penguins occur and this is a time effective alternative to Paracas. Recent studies show that Humboldt Penguins are very sensitive to disturbance - much more so - than its close relative Magellanic Penguin that occurs in Patagonia and with colonies that attracts tens of thousands of visitors. Fortunately, there are no colonies in Peru that are accessible to tourists to walk around in. The large colony at Punta San Juan near Nazca is closed to the public.

Other places where one can see Humboldt Penguin include Pucusana and the new San Fernando reserve close to Nazca.

Torrent Duck

A highly dimorphic beautiful duck specialized living its life in streaming water and fascinating to watch. One of the best place to see them is at Aguas Calientes below Machu Picchu. In fact, they can often be seen looking out the window from the train to Machu Picchu.

Waved Albatross

In spite of being a bird breeding on the Galapagos, practically all individuals of the species will spend considerable time in Peruvian Waters in its lifetime when not breeding. The pelagic birdwatching and whale-watching trips from Lima has made it possible for larger numbers of people to see an albatross at relative ease. Waved Albatross is critically threatened due to high adult mortality in recent years. In spite of being one of the smaller albatrosses, with 2.30m wingspan it is still impressive and a highlight for anyone venturing to sea to see it.

This article was brought to you by Kolibri Expeditions.  Kolibri Expeditions runs tours everywhere in Peru and can take you to all these birds, providing a full-fledged birding holiday or a holiday to culture and nature on a more general level.

Photos by license of creative commons: Ogwen (Condor), Species snob (Chilean Flamingo), OlliethebastardHoatzin), and Inca Tern close up by Suneko (

Special thanks to Tim Ryan of The faraway, nearby blog, for letting me use his Macaw pictures from Tambopata. All other pictures by Gunnar Engblom and Alex Duran (Rufous-crested Coquette and Torrent Duck). GE´s and AD´s pictures may be used under creative commons license. Link and acknowledge this page. Thanks

Birdorable Guest Blogging Contest #9: Laura Erickson

As we close in on the last two entries (one more today) of the Birdorable Guest Blogging Contest, we're happy to present a rather unusual entry from Laura Erickson, written from the perspective of one of our fine feathered friends.

The Original Norwegian Bachelor Farmer

Well, den, I don't know if my ancestors come from Norway, but yah, my mother always said we chickadees are the original Norwegian bachelor farmers. We're very sociable, ya sure, you betcha, but it makes us uncomfortable getting too close to one another. She said we're just naturally reserved.

Well, that leads to pretty peaceable flock relations since no one oversteps their bounds, but like my mother told me, every now and then we have to get VERY close to at least one other chickadee to do what birds and bees and educated fleas do, or there won't be any baby chickadees anymore. Think of the children!

So we have to overcome our inhibitions every spring. But to do that takes a lot of buildup, literally. Our gym teacher told us that every autumn our gonads were going to atrophy. That sounded pretty impressive to me, but my dad said no, we weren't going to get trophies--that's just the technical way of saying that our sex organs would shrink every year. I thought that seemed pretty yucky, but Dad said they're just excess baggage that make us heavier and waste body energy to maintain, which we can't afford in the dead of winter.

But even though they're all shrunken right now, they do need to swell up and be full sized by April or May. To get revved up, we males start singing every January. We try to make it sound as romantic as possible, singing, "Hey, sweetie!" Every time we sing, we feel just a little bit-- well, empowered. And every time our sweetie hears it (and if we sing a whole lot, even some other guys' sweeties!) her heart gets a-thumpin.'

It starts out slow, but by Valentine's Day we're singing quite a bit. With the days getting longer, and sometimes warmer, we have plenty of time for finding food with time left over for romance. By March we'll be singing twice as much as we're doing now, and by April we'll be singing twice as much as we were in March, and by May--well, we'll be so revved up that we won't even need Powdermilk Biscuits to be able to get up and do what needs to be done.

My mate will lay lots of eggs--last year she produced nine! We want to be sure there are plenty of little chickadees to maintain our traditions, but more important, producing such a large clutch all at once ensures that we won't have to go through all that rigmarole again for another year.

Birdorable Blogging Contest #8: Dee Kuder

Sharon is back, safe and sound, and will have many a tale for you about her adventures in Central Asia.

Today's guest entry is from Dee Kuder, of Crane Lake Nature Blog, writing about the life and habits of  the Spruce Grouse.

Spruce Grouse

This bird is definitely one of very all time favorites! In fact, some of my friends could say that I am totally obsessed with this bird. I was lucky to find a very cooperative male Spruce Grouse the other day on the Echo Trail.

Spruce Grouse

This photo shows the beautiful sculpting of the back feathers. This bird may be just gray and black, but if you look closely the pattern of the feathers on his back side are stunning.

Spruce Grouse in full display

There’s good reason that back in the old days, this Grouse was called “Fools Hen”. They seem to be completely unfamiliar with people. Just imagine living life in the deep forest with an unlimited supply of food - they live off of Jack Pine and Spruce needles. Their predators are probably few and far between, and if they are being hunted by something, the places that they live, in the deep cover of a Spruce swamp, could deter any attacks. Maybe the terrible taste of their flesh is also a deterrent. Spruce Grouse can be legally hunted, and an estimated 20,000 were taken last year in Minnesota, although I don’t know why anyone would want to cook them up. I’ve heard that the taste of pine neeedles is what they’re all about.

Unfortunately, the Spruce Grouse may be taking the same path as Moose in northern Minnesota. For the past 60 years their numbers have been steadily declining. They may be extirpated (species that formerly occurred in the state but have disappeared and aren’t expected to recur) in northern Minnesota in the near future, just as a downturn in the Moose population is feared. I have heard from some of the locals here in Crane Lake that Spruce Grouse were once common. Now they are considered a very rare bird. Only a few pockets of remote forest around northern Minnesota currently hold these birds. I would love to hear some more stories about this Grouse, please contact me with any comments.

The Spruce Grouse is the only Grouse where you can readily tell the female from the male. Some people can get confused when they see a female Sprucey and think they are seeing a Ruffed Grouse. The Ruffed Grouse is the only Grouse that has a crest - Spruceys will always have a round head. The other very reliable field mark is the chestnut or rufous colored tips on their tail feathers. Both males and females have this marking. Of course, the male is unmistakable - they are beautiful birds!

calm Spruce Grouse

Notice the calm expression in this photo, the red above his eye is hardly showing…

Spruce Grouse with red eye combs

Now he’s a little more excited with his enlarged red eye combs.

Spruce Grouse with rufous tail tips

Now he’s up and displaying, notice the chestnut colored tips on his tail. [youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WMrDVBvFAd4[/youtube] The Spruce Grouse in this video was displaying. The most striking thing about this video was the way he was seemingly able to control each and every one of his breast feathers. The way he was moving them around made me think he was trying to hypnotize whatever he was trying to influence. Whether it was a female that he was impressing with his wiley ways or another male that he was trying to prove his manhood to, I don’t know, but this bird is absolutely beautiful! Can you tell I love this bird?

Birdorable Guest Blogging Contest #7: Kirk Mona

We're just about done with the Birdorable Guest Blogging Contest. Hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have. After the final entry is posted, we'll have a poll up where you can vote for your favorite entry. Today's entry is from Kirk Mona, and describes part of the process of identifying a bird's age when banding, something Sharon has tried to describe to me several times. Then my eyes go out of focus and I pass out. It's a strange and complicated science, but Kirk lays it out rather well. You can read more of Kirk's stuff on his blog, Twin Cities Nature Podcast.

How Old's That Thrasher?

It was a beautiful Thursday at the Lee & Rose Warner Nature Center where my co-host of the Twin Cities Naturalist Podcast, Paul and I work as naturalists. One of the fabulous things about being a naturalist is that you get to spend time outside on beautiful days. Many new migrants showed up today and the school group coming out took the Spring Birds class so that means banding! Fairly early on, the banders caught a beautiful large Brown Thrasher. What a gorgeous bird. Check out that gold eye! I usually think of thrashers as desert birds since that's usually where I see them. There are Brown Thrashers at the nature center every year but for some reason I never seem to stumble upon them. It was a thrill to see it up so close. The photo doesn't even begin to do this bird justice.

The next photo gives you a real idea for the size of a Brown Thrasher. This particular bird had an interesting feature that can be used to age the bird. Banders need to know all kinds of tricks to figure out how old a bird is. Look carefully at the tail of the thrasher. Notice anything?

Sometimes banders look at the condition of tail feathers, the fresher and less frayed, the newer. This tail is a little worn but that isn't the important thing to notice. There's a faint light colored band on all of the feathers about an inch or so from the tip of the tail. Can you pick it out? A variation in color on a feather is not uncommon. Sometimes there are series of bands that correspond to feathers growing at night or during the day. In the case of this thrasher though, there is only one band and it was likely caused by a change in diet while the tail feathers were growing. Most likely there was a minor deficiency in nutrients. You see this from time to time on single feathers. The key thing to note, however, is that the band appears on all of the tail feathers in the same location. For this band to appear at the same place on all of the feathers, they would have all had to form at the exact same time. Adult birds don't molt all of their tail feathers all at once or it would be very hard to fly. Unless there is some freak accident where a bird is attacked and loses all of its tail feathers, the only time all of the tail feathers grow in at once is when the bird is born. Since the band appears at the same place on all of the feathers we can tell that they all grew at the same time. Since the only time that happens is at birth, we know that these are the original tail feathers this bird grew. That tells us this is a first year bird that was born last summer.

This young male was banded and released. Hopefully he'll go on to have a long successful life. From now on, even when he gets new tail feathers, if anyone catches him again they'll know when we was born because of his band.

Birdorable Guest Blogging Contest #6: Connie Kogler

Counting down the days until Sharon gets back (two!) from the world's largest land-locked country. Haven't heard from her in the last 24 hours, but I believe this is the day she's staying in a "Soviet-style Sanatorium" (their words), so perhaps she's enjoying the facilities too much. Today's entry comes to us from Connie Kogler of Birds O' the Morning, and involves a long hike through some love bits of  Colorado.

Away Out On the Prairie

What's the first thing that comes to mind when you think "Colorado?" Curvy mountain roads? Great ski runs? 14,000 foot mountains? Prairie? Prairie?! Yes, nearly half our amazing state is prairie grasslands and it holds many secrets. My sister Lauren Burke from Broomfield and I went out for a day of discovering a few.

(*Of note; I could not add any info links on the Pawnee National Grasslands from the US Forest Service. Their website seems to be out of commission.)

No long and winding roads here, only long.. .. and straight. We discovered this lovely Mountain Plover while flying along a road like the one above at 55 mph. Had to stop and back up. Kind of amazing we actually spotted it. There was a second one too and both were nearly invisible.Horned Larks were everywhere and thankfully one stayed still long enough to get a few shots of it. Very cool little birds. Note the spiffy little horns, this dude seemed especially proud of.We stopped at the Crow Valley Campground, a well known hotspot for birds. And we found something cool! (Hard to do living amongst all these fantastic birders on the Front Range!) An adult female VERMILION FLYCATCHER. My first great look at this bird. I've only once before seen one, a male, and then only from a car that would not stop. We spent about 20 minutes following her around and taking pictures and even stopped back later in the afternoon on our way home to see her again. She's quite out of her range here in Colorado.. and with the storm we're having she'll wish she was back in Rick Wright's yard in AZ. A lifer for Lauren and a state bird for me.I believe this little guy is a 13-lined Ground Squirrel, though how it sat still long enough for anyone to count them is beyond me! So cute though.Heading down the trail..This is a bit of the face of a rock near the Pawnee Buttes. Amazing colors of lichens! I'll bet someone knows the names and types of these?On the way back from hiking 1.5 miles out to the west Butte the sky was amazing. I took one shot that you need a magnifying glass to verify, but it has a hawk in it! (not this one)Here is our first view of the Pawnee Buttes. Yes, there's two. The second one is behind the first.There were some crazy side canyons off of the wash we scrambled down. Not someplace to be during a flash flood!The second butte! See I told you..Lauren wondering how far we're going to have to walk back to the car.

Birdorable Guest Blogging Contest #5: Christine Kane

Just heard from Sharon and she's safe and well and about to board a plane to Almatay, Kazakhstan. She promises lots of great pictures when she gets back. But now it's time to continue the Birdorable Guest Blogging Contest with today's entry, Christine Kane of Let's Paint Nature. In this entry from her blog, Christine lays out how to paint a White Throated Sparrow, a bird which, amazingly enough, is not entirely brown!

Let's Paint a White Throated Sparrow!

Well, I fell in love with these little suckers ever since I saw them the other day. So let’s paint them in watercolors before they’re gone…

Step 1: Start with a simple sketch in graphite. Don’t worry if every shape and line is not perfect. You aren’t obligated to stay in the lines….ever! This isn’t work, this is play.

Step 2:Here I started with a pale blue-gray wash for the belly. I added a darker blue for shadow (under his white throat patch, mid-belly, under-belly, and under his wing. Remember to keep a few highlighted spots bare, allowing the white of the paper to show through. If you do, your painting will not feel “flat” but will have a breath of life and a light feeling to it.

Step 3: While the belly was drying, I started to work on his wing. A light olive green- brown color is the foundation and a more red-brown is added on top. But remember…always keeps some white spots open! Next, I added a few stripes on his head. The color I used is a mixture of blue, green, and red. It only looks black. If you use black straight from a tube of paint, it will always look dull and flat. If you mix the colors together however, you will be surprised at how deep it looks!

Step 4:POW! Let’s add some dimension! It’s as easy as a brush stroke! In this step I added the famous yellow spot on his head. Also, a dark brown to his wing. If your edges seem too hard, while wet, take a clean brush and soften those edges with clean water.

Step 5:For the background, I wanted to represent the pine needles without going crazy on every single needle! I painted blotches of green and while wet, I took the edge of my paint brush and scraped needles into the paper. What happens next is that the green watercolor pigment seeps into the grooves making darker lines…so easy!

Step 6:I forgot one thing when painting his eye! If you do not leave a little white to represent glistening in the eye, your subject will appear dead. What can I do now that his eye is totally black already? No worries, just take an xacto blade and scrape out a little section of light! Nothing to it!

Step 7 Final:Here is the final painting. Gracing me with a visit, my white-throated friend is now forever honored in his very own watercolor painting.

I hope you enjoyed this step by step watercolor demonstration of the white throated sparrow!

Birdorable Guest Blogging Contest #4: Lili Tod McMillan

Once more into the Birdorable Guest Blogging contest! Today's entry is on a subject near and dear to the Birdchick's heart: having dead trees and brush on your property to attract birds. The entry comes from Lili tod McMillan of the Behind the Falls Blog. Take it away, Lili!

Have you hugged a snag today?

Does this image make you want to get a chainsaw or a pair of Swarovskis?

As any bird aficionado will tell you, snags such as this one, do not have to be an unattended issue in your backyard but rather a hidden magnet for all sorts of bird activity. Your neighbors might think you are being rather neglectful allowing a dead tree to stand while shedding its various parts over a long period of time but this is certainly less crazy then constructing an artificial snag.

In North America, 55 bird species are cavity nesters. Besides nesting, birds use dead trees for foraging, domain-watching, hunting and just plain hanging out without the hassles of dealing with leaves. If your dead tree or snag is strategically located, you are pretty much guaranteed a steady stream of bird visitors.

For birding humans, dead trees provide great viewing and photo opportunities.

An ibis "tower" in Sebastian Florida.

Many birds of prey, such as this red-tailed hawk, rely on the unobstructed view that a dead tree provides for finding food.

This barred owl is perched on a man-made snag of cut buckthorn.  Buckthorn is an invasive small tree that is choking the understory of woodlands here in Minnesota. Creating a few of these buckthorn mini-perches is one way to make something positive out of a nuisance situation.

A wildlife pond is not complete without a few horizontal snags.  Ducks love to rest on dead trees by the water's edge.  Seeing the baby wood ducks each summer makes dragging an 100 pound snag over to the water worth all the work.

And for a non-birding use of snags, you have to give credit to Bruce Stillman who designed what I call "snaghenge".

This work of art is part of the amazing Big Stone Mini Golf Course in Minnetrista, Minnesota.

Thanks for the great entry, Lili. And just because I know this is going to come up when Sharon gets home: Buckthorn is a huge problem in terms of native growth trees. Sharon recommends (and is fighting a seemingly neverending battle) against it, and her recommended solution is to try to eliminate it entirely, because it spreads like crazy.

All right, we'll be back tomorrow!

Birdorable Guest Blogging Contest #3: Craig Nash

Hello, all. NBB here again.

Sharon's off to Kazakhstan (from Frankfurt, where she could not, alas, find a frankfurter, only Viennese sausage), so it's time for our latest Birdorable guest blogging contest entry.

This one comes to us from Craig Nash of Peregrine's Bird Blog, an involves some close encounters with a very large sea bird.

Kaikoura: One of the Best Birding Experiences of my Life with Albatross Encounter

Having left Kapiti Island we stayed in Wellington with my father's first cousin Jan for a few days before we headed to the South Island and went our seperate ways. I wanted to see Albatrosses at Kaikoura and Kea in Arthur's Pass and my father wanted to visit friends and go fishing.

I arrived in Kaikoura and stayed in the Adelphi Backpackers Lodge.I had booked to go out with Albatross Encounter about a week earlier on the internet. I got up on a beautiful morning and headed to the Encounter building. I had made sure I had taken my seasickness tablets the previous night and an hour before we were to leave. At the Encounter centre there is a really nice cafe serving excellent breakfasts and great coffee. so i had a quick coffee before our group of seven were to meet up with our guide Alastair Judkins.

Alastair drove us from the centre around a headland to where we would board the boat. Pretty much the same as Kapiti we got onto boat and it was then reversed into harbour. We made our way out to an offshore canyon which is pretty close to the shore.It is about a mile deep. It is here that two currents converge and forces nutrient rich water upwards which in turn supports a wide variety of fish and marine animals creating a wonderful feeding habitat for many different species of seabird.

The first we were to see were the Cape Pigeon or Cape Petrel. They have a black and white colour and were named cape pigeons because they frequent Cape Horn. They are not a pigeon but a Petrel and in NZ follow fishing boats looking for scraps.

Once we were over the canyon Alastair put a bag of frozen chum overboard and what felt like seconds birds were coming in all directions. There were Great Northern Petrels, Mollymawks, Albatrosses and as they came in Alastair was pointing them out and naming them as they came in, as I was trying to photograph them. Westland petrel, Sooty Shearwater, White Chinned Petrel, Buller's Shearwater, Hutton's Shearwater, Salvin's Mollymawk, Gibson's Wandering Albatross. The shear beauty of these very large birds cleaving the water as they bank over the waves was awe inspiring. Also the backdrop of the Kaikoura Mountains made it all the more spectacular. To me it was one of the greatest birding experiences I have ever had.

Alastair then shouted Chatham Island Mollymawk. This had to be the bird of the whole NZ trip for me. It is critically endangered on the IUCN red list. There are about 4500 pairs in the world and they breed on a rock called the Pyramid 800 miles to the East in the Chatham Islands. They would be a very rare visitor to New Zealand and this was only the third time in six or seven years that Alastair had seen one.It is one of the three sub species of Shy Mollymawk. It flew round the boat before coming into land right next to the chum. It really was a beautiful bird.

It then flew off not to be seen again. I then tried to take photos with my sigma 10-20mm lens with my camera body as low to the water as possible. I got a range of shots. In this one immediately below the tip of his bill is only about an inch away from the lens!!!

Then we were visited by a Black-browed Albatross of the Campbell Island Race. It is one of the most widespread albatrosses. It looks as though it is wearing eyeshadow.

The only other Mollymawk we saw was a New zealand White -capped Mollymawk. This one is immature.

Alastair then headed to show us the Spotted Shag Colony on a rock just a few hundreds from the shore when we stopped at a group of Buller's Shearwaters sitting on the water. We looked and photographed them and then he chucked the remaining chum into the water. The albatrosses and the giant petrels went into a feeding frenzy.It was a pretty noisy affair.

As a photographic experience it was second to none.It had to be one of the best mornings of my life. The next time I am in NZ I will definately go out on an earlier trip in the day to experience the early morning sunlight. I would also love to photograph the birds from an underwater perspective.

I entered this photograph, which I changed to Black and White, into the Birdforum Monthly Photo Competition (In this case the title was Monochrome Birds) and it won so I was pretty pleased with that.

Birdorable Blogging Contest #2: Dawn Frary

Hello all, NBB here. Sharon is safely in Germany just now, waiting to travel to Kazakhstan tomorrow.

Today's entry is from Dawn Frary, Volunteer Owl Feeder and Wildlife Rehabilitator, Macbride Raptor Project. You can read more of her stuff at her wildlife rehabilitation blog: For the Birds.

Best. Rehab. Ever

Tonight was perhaps the best rehab session I’ve had so far in my volunteer-career as a wildlife rehabilitator.  I hadn’t rehabbed in the two weeks prior to tonight, and it felt great to get back in the flight cage and see how my feathered friends are doing.  Last Monday, I didn’t go out to the raptor center because I didn’t feel well and the week before I didn’t fly either bird because they both had additional injuries that were separate from their “regular” injuries (i.e. the injuries for which they are in the flight cage in the first place).  I didn’t want to agitate anything further so I let them be.  It looks like letting them rest was a good idea because they both were in fine form tonight.

My rehab accountrements: leather falconer gloves, rehab notebook, trusty pencil.

I began with the red tailed hawk, who I fully expected to be as much of a pain in the butt as he was last time I flew him.  If you will recall, I spent nearly an hour chasing him along the floor of the flight cage to no avail at all - he barely flew for me, so I put him back without completing his regimen of five perch-to-perches.  Tonight was completely different.  After catching him (which was the hardest part of the whole ordeal), he proceeded to give me his five perch-to-perch (P-P) flights plus an additional two P-Ps.  I felt like he and I were perfectly in sync and that he understood exactly what I wanted him to do.  He didn’t struggle while being held, and he didn’t put up a fight once I had caught him and was holding him.  His flying mechanics have improved greatly since the last time I worked with him, and he demonstrated a vast improvement in his landings.  I tried to offer him positive feedback and cheer him on while he was going through his exercises, which in my mind makes all the difference.  I completed his exercises in about 30 minutes, I think, and got him back in his cage safely and soundly.

The armpit biter great horned owl was up next.  Once he came down from his high perch on the wall, I caught him easily only to be bitten very hard on the left arm.  It left a tiny but very painful welt.  But, since I’m used to the sharp sting of his beak at this point, I got right to his wing stretches and then launched him into the air from the middle of the flight cage.  His flight had improved tremendously since our last session, as well.  His height, speed, glides, and landings were all those of a bird who was well on his way to being released back into the wild.  After being a resident of the MRP since early winter, I’m sure he is eager to get back to the woods and tell all his friends about the mean girl who made him fly back and forth inside a big cage.

The new kid: a Cooper's hawk was brought to the flight cage this week. He is under observation only for right now.

I was so thrilled after the rehab session that I literally jumped up and down afterward.  I was happy with the birds’ performances, but was also happy with myself for being what I felt was a very observant and patient rehabber.  I did not allow them to intimidate me, which I do sometimes because, well, they are large wild birds who are not happy about their current living situation and the fact that people in big leather gloves come into their space, corner them, grab them by the legs, and make them do flying exercises.

Sometimes it’s also easy to forget that there is a barrier between myself and these birds, and that barrier is called WILDNESS.  These birds, no matter now much I talk to them or anthropomorphosize them, are wild animals.  They want nothing to do with me.  When I’m holding them and looking into their eyes (from a mere six inches away) thinking about how amazing it is to be thisclose to a wild great horned owl, they are thinking, “I’d kill you right now if I could.”

It doesn’t bother me.  I signed up for this so I can’t complain about the bites or the birds’ blatant animosity toward my presence in their immediate space.  I am helping them, whether they know it (or like it) or not.  And tonight, I felt like the three of us - me, the hawk, and the owl - were all on the same page.  We danced.  I led.

They’ll thank me in the end.

I made two videos from today’s session, you can view them here and here.

Thanks, Dawn. Look for another entry tomorrow!

Birdorable Guest Blogging Contest #1: Callae Frazier

NBB here. Sharon's heading off to Kazakhstan today as part of a special project for Swarovski Optik and Birdlife International, which means that it's time to begin the Birdorable Guest Blogging contest.

Our first entry is from Callae Frazier, who describes her entry as: It's an avian-related personal narrative that takes place at my childhood home in the Colorado foothills where nearly every window looks out on a bird feeder

Sky Windows

Smack! Thump.

The sound, sudden and unmistakable, resonates down the hall, through open doorways and anyone in the house familiar with it looks up, startled.  Sometimes, the echo seems to move through even the walls.  I’ve heard an impact resonate from the front of the ranch-style house to my back bedroom. More often I am in the kitchen, or living room, or study, all near the front of the house and closer to the most often hit windows.  Windows that look out on some of the busiest bird feeders among the nearly dozen seed stations set up around the house.  Clear, wide windows that birds occasionally mistake for open, wide sky.

Smack! Thump.

Dozens of species visit the area, many stay year-round.  Palm-sized, chipper, ashy mountain chickadees, with their little black caps and eye stripes and chins are fairly ubiquitous.  Ground-feeding juncos, all varieties, all stocky and stout, also spend most of the year pecking about the ground under feeders, in the driveway, or on the platform feeders.  Bullet-shaped nuthatches, white-breasted, red-breasted, and their tiny compact cousins the pygmy’s, “yank, yank, yank” their arrival at the feeder.  House finches, goldfinches, pine siskens sing their melodious, waterfall-garbled song from high atop trees before swooping down and joining the others. Orangy-red male and yellow female crossbills pass through occasionally, their high-pitched, “kip-kip-kip” calls foreshadowing their arrival.  They sit upright on the hanging feeders, and I must check, and double-check their oddly formed bills every time, marveling at how the upper mandible literally crosses over the lower one.  Winter flocks of hand-sized, yellow-bellied, thick-billed evening grosbeaks provide a bright spot of color against a snow and dark pine backdrop. Still larger birds visit as well. Mohawked, Stellar’s jays bully juncos from the driveway, and chickadees from the platform feeders with their large bodies, and raucous calls.  We know summer has arrived when the quiet mourning doves arrive in the drive, delicately pecking seeds.  The surrounding diverse sliver of habitat in a life zone typically reserved for lodgepole pine entices the birds.  And the birds entice me.

My mom tells the story of how, even when I was a little girl I loved to sit in the elevated, recessed, bench next to the entryway and watch birds for hours out the bay window.  We call the space our “window box” on account of its boxy, rectangular shape.  The window looks out on a wide, multi-level wrap around deck and I look out at birds on the platform feeder attached to the deck railing.  When young, I asked for the names of birds all the time.  Mom knew them all, and by the time I started first grade I knew my colors, letters and numbers along with the names for chickadee, nuthatch, jay and junco.  I knew that chickadees’ nasaly call sounded like their name, “chick-a-dee-dee-dee.”  My parents adopted the chickadee’s clear two-note, descending minor-third whistle, “fee-bee”, as a way to find each other in a busy space, or to get each other’s attention.  Of all the multitudes of books in the house, The Golden Guide to Birds was one I could always find on the full shelves.  Before I could write, I made up stories, sitting there in the window.  Mom listened, and committed my words to paper.  Sealed in envelopes, my words flew thousands of miles away to my Grandparents in a silver-winged bird.

Thwap!

A flutter of anticipation begins when the sound reverberates down the hall.  Approaching the window box, I search out the only sign of trauma - a bit of feathers stuck to the glass.  Pressing my face to the smooth, cool surface of the window sometimes allows me to see the tiny, feathered thing on the deck below.  The dogs, curious, will hop up the bench with me.  Their warm breath fogs up my view.  I’ve learned to leave them inside when I investigate.  They sometimes mouth stunned birds and inadvertently finish off the job.  I hold them at the front door with my knees, and slip out between jostling bodies and lolling tongues.  There, on the brown deck, I most often find a grey chickadee or dark-headed junco lying spread-legged, wings outstretched.  Larger grosbeaks and deep blue, black-crowned jays are other common casualties of our windows.

Surprisingly, for the number of windows in the house (over 40), and the number of birds who have found our land an invaluable food source over the years (hundreds), remarkably few have perished.  After smacking into the windows they fall to the ground more often only stunned.  I gently scoop up the lightweight bundles, cupping their small warmth in my hand.  They breathe so fast.  Little chests heaving up and down.  Heavily lidded eyes, glazed with shock, do not acknowledge me.  Their heartbeat pounds furiously into my palm.  It is as though they go into a kind of coma, their brain and neurons checking and rechecking the stunned body.  I like to believe my hands provide them shelter and warmth.  A miniature recovery room.  A little patience, careful watching, and suddenly the “on” switch clicks.  Small glassy eyes brighten, drooping wings straighten, an alert head rises, cocks, looks about.  I hardly exhale then, waiting to see how long they will stay.

The stunned birds never fly far.  Sometimes they make it to the wide, flat bird feeder attached to the railing.  Maybe they rest there a while.  Often they dip into the plethora of seeds at their feet.  Within moments they fight off other feeders come to the feast.  I stand mere feet away, and trace the invisible impression of wing strokes crossing delicately across my palm.  Sometimes I can find small pinprick depressions where their claws pressed down.

Thwack!

I know right away if the window-smacked birds are dead.  There is something unmistakable about a dead thing.  The way the neck bends loosely, the closed eyes, sometimes a drop of blood at the base of the delicate, grey beak. The stillness.

When I was very young my parents helped me bury birds knocked off by windows.  We dug a shallow grave out in small area west of the garden.  A place that today holds bones of several well-loved pets.  I probably covered the little mound with a rock.  Felt perhaps a little sad.  But I also found the streamlined shape, soft feathers, and the delicate lightness of the little body fascinating.  A dead bird gave me a chance to see the normally fluttery critters up close.

Later, feeling silly for making bird graves, I walked some distance into the woods, and tossed them into a bush.  Something would find and eat them.  Maybe a crow or fox.  Hopefully not our indoor/outdoor cat who had a habit of bringing dead things into the house, leaving them as surprising gifts on beds, or by doors.  I might also take the dead birds and deposit them deep in the compost pile where they would slowly decompose, adding their nutrients to the existing combination of vegetable parts, egg shells, coffee grounds, plant trimmings, and hay.  Yes, I know you aren’t supposed to include meat in your compost, but when I was young I hardly considered the small flesh of birds an inappropriate addition to the compost.

In late August, when I made my regular round of plucking fresh snacks in the low, golden light of the autumn garden, I wouldn’t remember the birds I buried in the compost a year or two before.  But they’d be there.

There, in the squat carrots I’d wrest from the soil, barely wiping the soil free on my jeans before chomping down the crisp earthy sweetness.  Or there, in the round burst of sugar peas on my tongue as I popped them into my mouth one, by one.  Pop, pop, pop.  Their presence would be found in the meaty muscle of turnips and potatoes dug out of the soil with my bare hands.  The invisible bits of birds who once mistook a clear wide window for clear open sky.