White-breasted Nuthatch on the Tuolumne River Parkway Trail

Just two pictures today, of a White-breasted Nuthatch (Sitta carolinensis) on the Tuolumne River Parkway trail that's under construction in my little town on the edge of the Sierra Nevada. It's only two pictures (and only one that's clear), because the small bird never stops for a moment as it searches the branches for tidbits of food. I love how they tend to defy gravity as they walk upside down on the tree branches, but I wish they would stop and pose for a moment.

It's funny how I'll see birds in some exotic location, in this case up in the Sierra Nevada at Lake Tahoe, and at Mammoth Lakes, and then come home and a few weeks later see the same bird practically in my own backyard.

Say What? Oh, a Say's Phoebe at Pecos National Historical Park

The flycatcher family has to be a favorite with beginning birdwatchers. It probably has to do with their habit of perching over and over on the same post or branch waiting for bug to come by. They swoop out, capture their bug, and perch again. That makes them a lot easier to photograph!

That's what made these Say's Phoebes (Sayornis saya) a little bit unusual. They weren't really chasing bugs. They had already caught their bugs and just seemed to be waiting around. We were at Pecos National Historical Park on our recent field studies trip to New Mexico. They were hanging out around the entry doors for the visitor center for some reason.

Pecos was one of the most important of the New Mexico pueblos hundreds of years ago, standing as it did at a pass between the Great Plains and the Rio Grande River valley. It was a center of trade, and a strategic target. It was even a battlefield during the Civil War. The battle at Glorietta Pass was fought more or less to a draw until the Union forces were able to burn the supply wagons of the Confederate troops. The Southerners were forced to retreat back to Texas, and New Mexico remained under the control of the United States.

In any case, the pair of Phoebes kept lurking by the door, and someone finally pointed out to me the reason.

Doesn't this one seem to be saying "Duh, isn't it obvious?" (but I never anthropomorphize birds...)?

They had a nest on top of the light fixture near the entrance! Once people were inside, the birds would swoop in and feed their very young nestlings (I took this shot from a fair distance away with a zoom, in case you were wondering).

A Last Look at the Western Kingbirds on the Tuolumne River

Oh, it's nothing bad that's going to happen to the birds, it's just that in the next few weeks they will all disappear from the area and migrate to their winter homes in Mexico and Central America. The Western Kingbird (Tyrannus verticalis) is fairly abundant in our area from March to late August or September. They breed across the western States and into southern Canada.

These are spunky little birds. They don't hesitate to harass and chase away Kestrels and Red-tailed Hawks if they feel threatened. They are also one of the few species that recognize the eggs of parasitic Cowbirds in their nests. The two that I photographed today could care less that I was hanging out. They had other things to do.

I've seen the Kingbirds at all my normal haunts, the pasture, the Tuolumne Bluffs (the future park), my campus "mini-wilderness" and others. Today was a new spot, only because I've started walking there in the last week. It's the Tuolumne River Parkway, a new river trail that will eventually follow the Tuolumne from one end of my town to the other. It's right at the boundary between the Sierra Nevada foothills and the floor of the Great Valley. The trail is still under construction, but parts are already accessible. It's where I saw the Black-chinned Hummingbird the other day, and the Gray Fox.

I'm looking forward to the completion of the trail. It will make a nice 3 mile walking loop with a half mile through the riparian environment. I've seen quite a few birds in the area already.

A Barred Owl in the Hoh Rainforest, Olympic National Park

Owls are hard. Most of course are nocturnal, and so by definition they can be hard to photograph. Owls live in many different habitats, but deep forests are especially preferred by some, and in the darkness of the forest floor, even in daytime they can be hard to focus on.

We were on our first visit ever to the Hoh Rainforest in Olympic National Park in Washington. We only had a short time, but we made sure to stroll through the Hall of Mosses Trail near the park visitor center. The trail winds through typical (read: extraordinary) rainforest, with Sitka Spruce, Western Hemlock, Douglas Fir, and gigantic maple trees. Moss seems to hang from every branch, but in the drought conditions, the moss was brown and dry as paper.

Mrs. Geotripper spotted the owl before I did (how does she do that??). It was mostly ignoring us and watching the forest floor. After a few moments it flew into the ferns, possibly catching a bit of dinner, and then heading off through the forest.

The closely related Northern Spotted Owl is a rare and endangered species that has been controversial because of its need for old-growth forest habitat for survival. The closure of various regions to logging and other uses has led to court cases over the continued existence of the species.

The Barred Owl, on the other hand is not threatened at all, and indeed has been expanding its habitat. It is primarily a species of the eastern United States, but reforestation and abandonment of farmlands across the midwest (and to a certain degree, global warming) has allowed the owl to expand westward and come into direct competition with the Spotted Owls. It tends to win out, being larger and able to survive in a wider range of habitats. It was first seen in the Olympic rainforest in 1985, and has been expanding its range to the south (see my note on Barred Owls in Muir Woods), mostly at the expense of the Northern Spotted Owls

This one looks a bit ashamed of what it's done, don't you think? But I would never anthropomorphize an animal, of course. Actually, despite the role it has played in the disruption of ecosystems in the northwest, it is a beautiful animal.

Osprey Fledglings on the Tuolumne River and Anthropomorphizing.

We've been gone for 6 of the last 8 weeks, so we missed out on the childhood of the nestling Ospreys that are living along the Tuolumne River just upstream of our town. We last looked in on them in late April (story here), so we took a short excursion yesterday to see if the fledglings were still hanging out at their nests. They were, at least two of them, one at Roberts Ferry bridge, and one at Turlock Lake State Recreational Area. They looked healthy and active.

I know we're not really supposed to anthropomorphize wild animals, but looking at these scenes somehow brought back memories of teenagers... 

The "I can't handle listening to this kid whining so much" look...

The "you've destroyed my life forever" look...

The "I'm not speaking to you" look...

The "you WILL NOT talk about my child that way" look...(teachers get this one)

The "first driving lesson" look...

And...the response to the "birds and the bees talk".

I don't know, maybe there is something to anthropomorphizing after all.

Western Wood-pewee at China Ranch Near Death Valley

Continuing our review of a long summer of bird sightings, we make a stop at China Ranch east of Death Valley National Park. I got a good look at a Western Wood-pewee (Contopus sordidulus) for the first time, and oddly enough saw it at three different locations over the next two days.

The Western Wood-pewee is a common bird across (surprise!) western America, and is very similar to the Eastern Wood-pewee, which is common across (surprise!) eastern America. There is very little range overlap, and they apparently don't interbreed, so it is interesting that they are practically indistinguishable (mainly differences in their songs). I guess they have no trouble telling each other apart. Both species migrate through Central America to South America for the winter.

The Wood-pewee is in the flycatcher family along with the Phoebes, and that describes their activity pretty well. They perch on a branch or fence, and suddenly fly out and capture flying insects.

But what were they doing out in the barren deserts east of Death Valley National Park?

Yeah, I want to know too...

China Ranch is a unique geologic environment in one of the driest places in North America. During the ice ages, a pluvial lake, Tecopa Lake, filled with water and spilled over into the adjacent drainage, which was Lake Manly in Death Valley. At some point, the outlet was eroded and the sediments that had filled Tecopa were exposed and eroded into a barren badlands landscape. But here and there, the downcutting gulleys intersected with the groundwater table. This resulted in permanent springs.

China Ranch is one of those spring complexes where water flows all year. It is a magnet for wildlife from miles around, and more than 200 species of birds have been sighted there. Water draws people as well. The region has been occupied for as many as 10,000-12,000 years. China Ranch itself was established only in the late 1800s. It is a working date ranch today, and an occasional stand-in for places like Afghanistan in Hollywood movies. The green of the riparian vegetation is in stark contrast to the barren white cliffs made of rock formed in long-gone lakes and swamps.

White-breasted Nuthatch at Twin Lakes, Sierra Nevada

We're going back to the beginning of the summer, as I have a big backlog of pictures from six weeks on the road. In early June, we were on our way home from Death Valley and Grand Canyon, and after some very hot days in the desert, we wanted to be someplace cooler. We ended up at Mammoth Lakes, and in the morning we wandered about the shores of Twin Lakes above the town. Several birds were out and about, including a little White-breasted Nuthatch (Sitta carolinensis).

It was fast moving, but I was lucky to get a few clear shots in. They are very acrobatic, walking upside-down, right-side up, and everything in between. It was presumably searching for some spring grubs and insects (we were at 9,000 feet, but there had been so little snow that spring had come early).

Twin Lakes are two only slightly separated glacial basins. There is a marvelous view of Crystal Crag and Twin Falls at the upper end of the lakes. Mammoth Mountain, a huge composite volcano is on the northern edge of the lake. It's a fascinating place to visit.