with Clem and mama bear

Lots of my birding happens alone, which is partially a function of getting up and getting out early, and stopping on my way home from work somewhere. Works out just fine cause I can go at my own pace and stop and check things out for awhile if i want. Sometimes take Janx-- good birding dog: she's mellow, listens to me pretty well, just make alot of quick movements so doesn't flush alot of birds.

But some days G and Clem are along with me, which is good too. Though both can tire a bit of my investigations, pace, or mileage. Harriman Lake can be a bit monotonous, too. It wasn't a place I ever went prior to birding-- had driven by it a hundred times over the years, but never stopped in. Reason? Just a simple 1.5 loop around a lake: no elevation gain, mostly dirt road, no big boulders to climb on or anything. But factor in the birds and it's gravy...

First time I pulled up a Red Tailed had just killed a rabbit... Before I was able to get out of the car, he flew with him to a nearby barbed-wire fence, and the rabbit remains got hung up in the barbs. Red Tail was nonplussed, then frustrated in his attempts to extricate his meal from the wire and move on. I watched as he tried again and again, working of course with just his feet and beak. Even thought about getting out of the car, shooing the bird off, untangling the rabbit myself and dropping it clear for him to retrieve. But the other voice in my head was saying, "Tob-- he's dealt fine with these challenges till now-- leave him be. He'll figure it out, or won't..."

Three minutes later he managed the dis-entanglement and moved on...

Anyways, today Clem right-away announced she WAS NOT going on the walk with us, when I said we were going on a walk. So I sweetened the deal for her a bit: 5 bucks if she could identify 10 different species of bird. She was in-- game on :)

Mallards were the first ducks: easy enough. I'd tried to prep her for the look of the Coots, Widgeons, and Blue-Winged Teals in the car on the way over. It took a little more direct instruction, but after a few minutes she could clearly differentiate the first two. (Didn't see any Blue Wingeds-- they were all over about a month back, but no longer). But the new addition to the pool was the Lesser Scaup: hadn't seen them yet this fall but here for four of them...

Then an excited burst from Clem: "A Red Tail Hawk! A Red Tail!" as one swooped low, just over her head, and then came back up to land there in one of the cottonwoods.

We continued: a flurry of house finches, the sound of a blackbird (only one, though I've seen hundreds in huge, garrulous flocks before), and on up ahead to the inlet adjacent to the Great Horned Copse (good viewing to the center of the lake).

A wise-ass Realtor by the name of Bud slowed to ask a few questions: "What do you see out there? I see a bunch of DUCKS..."

I lured him over, told him to have a look through my binocs and he'd be able to see a Bufflehead along with the Coots, Widgeons, Geese...

A Dufflehead? he asked. Then spent some time trying to adjust to the binoculars, without much success. Tried closing one eye, like he was hunting, he said. Then switched gears to real estate and gave us his card, made a few comments about what the Fed would be up to soon, and interest rates, and a few more random cracks, and moved onwards. I'm thinking I'm definitely not calling this guy if we sell our house-- he's looking for an audience even more so than looking to make some money--

No Pied-Billed Grebes-- they've moved on after consistent residence throughout the spring and summer. No Owls or Balds or Mountain Bluebirds. But we hit 13 species by the time we rounded the bend towards the car-- a Magpie. And were on our way to lunch, Clemmie happily demanding the payoff...

Mountain bluebirds

Had the day off yesterday-- my admin team decided at some point that having students the day after Halloween wasn't terribly productive, or fun perhaps. Good for them; good for me.

A friend stopped by to plan out a lighting project with us; we lingered in the driveway talking partners and kids and challenges at work and the nastiness of people at times and... good to catch up but i was also itchy to get out birding.

Kept it close: Janx (the cattle dog) and I drove a few miles east to the boat launch of Bear Creek Lake. Yeah, Bear Creek Lake. Who decided to put two general names for different bodies of water into one name? But yes-- there's a park and a lake that get that name...

Same group of sparrows darting around just south of the boat launch-- American Tree Sparrow. Always near that one spot. A couple of Canadian Geese, and a big flock of gulls. I walked around to have a closer look where the creek comes into the lake: yup, Ring Billed Gulls.

But otherwise... the place was kinda empty. In the spring/summer there are plenty of songbirds in the cottonwoods on the west 1/4 mile I'd just walked, and usually at least one Great Blue, a kingfisher, some Cormorants out in the water, an occasional Pelican. But close to nothing happening now.

Two miles away to the southeast Harriman Lake has probably 8-12 different species of ducks and waterfowl that have come in for the winter, or at least for a stopover. What's the difference in preference? Bear Creek Lake has the creek emptying into it, as well as more riparian area to the west. Would almost seem the better choice.

I walked back an along the north shore. There'd been a hawk in one of the dead trees on the shore, but a group of kids coming around had sent him off. Couldn't find him.

One group of kids regarded me from the picnic tables as I passed-- I was friendly and upbeat with them, so there was a subtle change from general suspicion of old guys with binoculars to friendly: "Enjoy your walk, mister" one of them called after we as I continued.

I passed the teacher and three more of the kids, then five minutes later ran into another three. They seemed unsure. "Yeah, we're looking for our group," one told me. I sent them onwards, after the others, then called back to them when I heard a coyote start up across the water on the south shore. They stopped short, unsure if I was joking, then a little nervous. Coyote won't do nothing, I said, he's just talking. Don't worry bout him. They continued on.

I turned left near the dam and headed up towards the road. The park was empty and I could just walk back that way instead of back through the mud. There's a rocket launch area there where the rocket nerds congregate on Sundays and blast off their creations. Nobody there today, but some movement between the three pines on an otherwise treeless hill.

First, a Say's Phoebe, alone in the winter light, top of one pine. Nice-- haven't seen one of them in awhile, and I wasn't sure they stuck around this late either. Yeah, just check the map-- this guy is probably headed to Mexico in the next week, if not today...

Then behind me a pair circled-- interrupted by my movement but not going too far away: Mountain Bluebirds! Map says they are year-rounders, though I haven't seen 'em all summer, and I haven't seen them in the deep winter, either. Nice catch, I think. They could be headed to points a bit further south.

Walked back to the car, drove to the nature center, checked out the feeders. Chatted up the naturalist there that knew her birds pretty well. Told be about a mountain lion car-kill a few weeks back on Morrison Road. Bummer.

Back to the house for lunch...

flashback to summer, cape cod part 1

Took a trip to the Cape this summer...

When I was a kid, excited anticipation mostly applied to our annual trips to Aspen to ski. For months I'd look forward to that week.

As an adult, plans to climb sometimes kept me up...

But I also noticed, as an adult that sometimes when people would ask "Are you excited?" about (fill in the blank),  I'd think, nah, not really. Just kind of taking it all in stride these days. And I'd think maybe that was something that was happening with age-- I just didn't get that excited by things to come.

But wait! Here I am in my 50s with a new hobby, and there's definitely some eager anticipation associated with planned trips and outings...

The Cape didn't disappoint-- songbirds in Mark and Renee's yard were already great, and then there were the daily walks down to the beach in the early morning: plovers, sandpipers, gulls, terns, scoters. Man, what a treat. I'd been coming to the cape now for years and definitely had noticed the birds, but this was the first year I'd been back since being born again as a birder... Is that an accurate term, being born again?

I was first-born as birder, I think, back on the slopes of the cloud forest outside of Tegucigalpa. La Tigra. I was tailing some birder guy who was calmly pointing out and identifying the flashes of color below. And the colors were so striking-- vivid, almost inexplicable splashes of paint on a green canvas. I was intrigued...

up to Fort Collins--

Thursday, I had an assignment from my school to go observe another classical academy school up in Fort Collins. I was a bit grouchy and resistant Wednesday evening-- caught up in the middle of my work-week, somewhat drained of energy-- then realized I could make a birding day of it as well (duh!) I've been to Fort Collins only one other time-- to run a marathon, years ago. My assigned school was to the east, near the highway. I pulled up a map and had a look around. Plenty of bodies of water to choose from. I figured I should be able to find some birds of interest, hunkered down in the cold weather (we were just coming through the last day of an arctic cold front-- temps had dropped close to zero that morning), or there to stay for the winter. Suddenly I was getting excited about an excuse to drive north. First stop: Fossil Creek Reservoir.

I got out the door just before seven Thursday morning. Sky lightening. Dark mornings lately at the end of October, but that changes this weekend with daylight savings. Yay for Tob-- I'm definitely a morning person, and like having my light then as well.

I managed to get through the growing traffic of our metropolis and head north on 25. Clear skies, blue, wintry-- felt more like a December day. Warmer again in Denver, but the temp gauge dropped consistently as I drove north. By the time I found the Fossil Creek turn-off, it read 10 degrees. I pulled into an empty parking lot except for one other car. No sign of anyone though. Everyone was busy getting to work, or staying warm inside. I parking facing south and was looking right at a flock of sparrows. Mostly brown, in the winter-dead stalks of plants along the parking lot berm. Closest match I could come up with later was the Savannah Sparrow, but the Merlin app suggested the numbers I saw were highly unusual. I'm still not seasoned enough with some species to make a definitive call...

The rez was mostly frozen, but with some open water. Good thing for me, or the birds would've been elsewhere. Hawk flew by low as I walked in. Canadian Geese on the ice; Northern Shovelers in the water. I stopped and looked, then walked further to an observation point. From there I could see four pied-bill grebes, then two terns flew by! Looked like terns. Pretty sure they were terns, but... when I did some research later that night, they weren't listed as a possibility for Fossil Creek. Which doesn't mean they weren't terns, but does mean maybe I was wrong.

I spied a lone Killdeer down on the bank after hearing him. He looked cold. Wonder if he got caught by the storm. I don't remember seeing them in the deep winter last year, but Ebird says they're around in Colorado throughout the year. Huh.

I kept checking the cottonwoods for a Bald on the way back to the car-- nope. Onwards to my observation...

and the people...

Yes-- the people part of this blog. I've met some interesting ones for sure. Birding has been my in to conversation on walks, my invitation to others to check in. When you have a pair of binoculars around your neck, people know. So other birders say hello with a "seen anything interesting today?" and there begins the conversation.

At Harriman I met a short middle-aged lady-- has a few more years than me-- that knows the birds of that one lake well, but birds nowhere else. Residing nearby, that was here one walking and birding spot. Good enough! There's plenty there to see, including all the waterfowl, Cormorants and Hawks, Great Horneds, the occasional Bald. Huge flocks of redwing blackbirds (at times), a nesting pair of Western Kingbirds on the northern shore in the cottonwoods, occasional waders, plenty of swallows, meadowlarks off the northern shore, and all the songbird migrants that pass through, including the rare-to-the-area Northern Parula...

I'd just noticed the song associated with this little guy when i was exploring the same copse of cottonwoods I've mentioned elsewhere in this blog-- the song was definitely one I didn't know. Then suddenly I was joined by two guys, one right away asking, "Did you see it yet?"

"See what?" Turns out someone else had just posted the siting, and these guys were there looking for the same little dude I was listening to. We found him an all had a good look. The one birder thanking the other over and over for letting him know. I moved on, on my usual clockwise track...

october: Townsend's Solitaires on Falcon, late chicks at Harriman

alright, been a minute here...

hunkered down with a storm coming in, sunday morning early. got the feeder back up after a prolonged summer and am starting to see some juncos again. year come full circle, almost.

yesterday i was back up Falcon in the morning. Snow and mud left, but day warming. Still a few Townsend's Solitaires hanging in-- two or three on the backside where the trail goes into the shade and the evergreens are healthier. Then again one singing in the midday from the dead elm on the edge of my property. I was chatting with Aliza but had to interrupt to check him out...

A week ago I hiked the same trail with my brother (Falcon) and the hillside was full of these solitaires-- more than I've seen in one place at one time for sure. Just checked the map though and it looks like they might stick around during the winter. Though I remember just catching a solitary one mid-winter last year under the bridge down near town. We'll see...

Harriman-- one of the reservoirs that's about three miles and a tad south of here. I was watching a pair of Great Horned chicks that hatched super-late there. The first nest was destroyed by our winter/spring "snow cyclone"-- a new term/phenomenon here on the front range, a new phenomenon within our era of changing/morphing climate.

Undeterred, the parents built a second nest. This one halfway down, walking west, along the southern shore of the length. Just where there's a nice wooded area-- a want to say copse, though I don't hear that used much (ever) on the Front Range. The new set of eggs laid was thus about two months behind schedule. Another birder I ran into on my perambulations there related that half here ornithologist friends thought this second round of chicks wouldn't make it-- just too late a start, and too much competition with other raptors.

At the time of this conversation the chicks were already big-- half grown. This was probably in July. I figured since they had several months of summer yet maybe they had a good shot at it yet. But the larger of the two-- the sister, perhaps-- was often on a log on the ground in those woods when I went looking for them. Strange to be so exposed. Seemed she had an issue with her wing. She kept an eye on me, though, and when I venture too close once was able to fly up into a tree.

Her skinnier brother was always nearby. Clearly they were still hunkered down in this copse, not ranging very far at all. Another birder opined that they were still being fed by the parents, but at this point I never saw the parents anymore myself. Chicks finally abandoned and left to their own devices?

I dropped by rabbit roadkill for the injured one one day-- what the heck. She didn't touch it. Funny, I thought a coyote would have picked it up or something, but it was there rotting when I returned five days later. Magpies were picking at it though...

One day the grounded chick was there no longer. Three weeks later the sibling disappeared as well. So... maybe neither made it, or maybe the skinnier brother did. That was two months ago now, probably-- mid-August.

Contact

So I had 5 minutes to spare on my way to an interview... Stopped by the turtle ponds. We cleaned this area up a week ago-- we being my 9th grade students and I. Spent two hours pulling plastic out of the creek, pulling shopping carts out of the muck, pulling trash out of the trees-- lots left by homeless folks camping. Anyways, left the place looking alot better.

I've seen a great blue here, red-tailed hawks, mostly mallards without alot of other water birds, a few Song Sparrows and Chickadees.

But the other big draws include the turtles and the fish. The best place I know to see turtles on the front range-- they crawl up on different rocks and limbs as the sun rises. Big fellas. 6-8 of them, in the two lower pools...

The fish or huge bombers-- in the third pond up. The water had gotten really low a week ago and I was starting to worry about them a bit, then that snow came. Now things are over-flowing. But that day one flashed up, making a huge commotion, and gobbled up on of the mallard chiks floating by with her momma. Bam! Little mini Lochness monster action.

Today I walked towards the bridge and saw something there-- not really perched, but more like it was set there. A swallow-- emerald-- balled up, not moving. Maybe dead and someone put it up there for some reason? But getting closer it doesn't really look dead, and doesn't wake up or move either. I get real close-- close enough to reach out and touch. Which I eventually do, after I've had a good look-- expecting him to burst into frightened flight. Nope. Didn't even wake up.

I pet his right wing a bit more, and a little stronger to boot. Now I kind of want him to wake up. He does-- shakes slumber off a bit, eyes fluttering, focuses in on me. Realizes the situation, is not bothered, tucks his head back into his wing and goes to sleep. Could have just cupped him up and carried him off...

Rainy days

Been cool here lately-- coming up on the end of May. Had four inches of snow the other day, followed by more overcast days and drizzle. Just fine for birding and keeping the migrants here a bit longer...

Hit Wheatridge Greenbelt yesterday, after dropping Clem at dance. Figured I had half an hour...

Caught some cliff swallows at the first lil pond, furthest to the west. The one that seems it's prone to all kinds of nasty seepage and run-off... A grand Snowy Egret as well...

Moved on, chasing the peeps. Several Killdeer that eventually lead the way, luring me away from their breeding grounds with their dance displays of injury.

But in-between, a tiny little peep-- several of them-- that really just looked like sparrows. Short beaks, near all-brown, and tiny. Have not been able to ID yet. Closest thing is the Least Sandpiper, but that one is white underneath, and this guy was mostly brown all over.

Cruised onwards with my umbrella and the clock ticking-- needed to get back to pick Clem up soon already. Yellow warbler singing high in dead tree. Then a catbird across the way-- my first. This guy was great-- up there with the Curved Beak Thrasher I saw/heard in Santa Fe-- not QUITE as fabulous, but pretty dang cool. Raining.

Other things flitting by. With more time I'd probably nab a few more first-time sightings...

Back at CC, headed back west, there are still masses of what I thought might be a different warbler, but I'm pretty sure is the same Yellow-Rumped. Except is rump isn't yellow anymore. Yellow head, throat, chest, with white wingbars. Darker than the yellow-rumped was three weeks ago. But probably the same crew...

Global Big Day

yeah that was this past Saturday-- alot of people getting out documenting the birds in their area, or multiple areas...

Me, I woke up at 4. Not so unusual, but a bit early for Saturday. All good with the timing, though-- allowing me to have some coffee, do a little tai chi, pack up a breakfast and lunch, and hit the road before the sun was up.

First destination was Barr Lake State Park-- a bit of a drive-- across town then northeast up 76, as if I were driving off to Wisconsin. But then there the lake is, right off the highway. As I pulled off and onto the 2lane road towards the park, an eagle-- bald or golden, not sure-- slowly flapped by to the north. Good sign.

At the entrance the sun still wasn't up proper, but just about. I paid my fee to the loud racket of a killdeer in the middle of turnaround circle there-- fussing about something-- me, I guess. Drove on down and parked before the nature center, got my stuff together then walked in that direction. Arriving there at the center there were some huge trees-- not even sure what variety-- in a grassy park area-- kind of like a rest stop or something. And bang! Bullock's orioles, right there! Hadn't seen any of them yet-- bright orange in a tree of yellow-green as the sun finally broke ground. The familiar call they make-- nice to hear again.

And also-- the Western Kingbird-- a pair. Had been waiting for those, for sure. Wasn't aware the Orioles were gonna be there, but I'd been on the lookout for the Kingbird for weeks.

Turns out the Orioles had arrived just that night-- I saw six or seven of them during my three hours of walking the perimeter of the lake. First clockwise, then I back-tracked when I got too close to the highway noise.

Ended up with 33 species for that segment of the morning, including Osprey, house wrens (plenty of them, for sure), the Downy Woodpecker, American Coots, blackbirds-- alot of the usuals. The orange and yellows I saw right at daybreak turned out to be some of the big catch for the day, though the others, and the walk, and the new place, and the people I bumped into-- all were appreciated as well.

Spring storm, and first active raptor nest...

another one blew in last night. Dubbed a "bomb cyclone". Didn't hit as hard as  the last one, a few weeks back, but enough to throw Rosie's bday plans off-kilter...

Was out yesterday eve near the park, without binocs... Not much happening that I could see: mallards were hunkered down on Brewster's property, a flock of juncos (I think) skittered around, jumping from one set of brush to the next near the maintenance buildings.

But the day before... yes, the day before! --

I had 10minutes to kill before the soccer-mom pickup of kiddo post theater practice. Just so happens that Bear Creek greenway runs about a mile south of her school-- same greenway I bike to my own school. But biking by in the early a.m. late for my own classes leaves less time for birding.

This stretch of greenway is sometimes amazingly semi-barren of bird-life. A few things here and there, but... maybe it's just part of the the winter. I have seen an American Kestrel in there eating a meal (some rodent) on top of a post in the late afternoon light-- that was definitely cool. And my first and only Northern Shrike, back in January. And some water birds. And a cool, large beaver lodge and dammed up area. About 6-7 of those between my house and my turn-off near Federal for my school (near the Cowboy Hat park). Pretty great...

Anyways, today like I said I had about 10 minutes, which of course I was willing to stretch. So I moved from paved bike path to walking trail near Bear Creek and suddenly there was movement up and across the creek, south side. Pair of Cooper's Hawks, turns out. Good looking fellas: Grey backs and wings, white to rusty red flecked chest, nicely curved head, white butt. Bigger than the Kestrel for sure but definitely much smaller than most Red Tails I've seen this winter. Perfectly in-between, I guess. One of them was chowing down-- the female, I felt-- and the other was flying back and forth periodically. On his way back I saw his with twigs and he landed at his nest. Right on! Now I know exactly where it is. Aside from the Cormorants and pair of Great Blues on the Clear Creek Cormorant Island, this is the first active next I've seen this year. I think. 

Euphonia

I was looking for the right word for a phenomenon I've encountered. Being a relative newcomer to this whole birding pursuit, I'm thinking there's got to be one for it...

The phenomenon: coming upon moments-- almost patches of time and space-- where suddenly your in the midst of a full-on birdsong moment. Not talking about the solo singer here, more when there's a group and suddenly they've got it going on. I've paid attention to time to see if it's a certain time in the morning. Of course there's daybreak. In Honduras that's when I was first exposed to the full-on racket-- cacophony-- associated with the birds in town prior to dawn. And then half an hour past dawn, it was suddenly quiet. As if none of that craziness had just gone down.

But what I'm talking about is not that specific time when birds are just getting going and launching into their morning song, but instead sometime later-- midmorning at time, or mid to late afternoon. Patchwork times. But when you walk into one you know.

The other morning-- Sunday April 7th-- it was in Bear Creak Lake State Park. I'd dropped down from Morrison Road above along a small creek draining towards the lake. Same way I ski in the winter, more or less. Meadowlarks and Red Wings on the way. Then along with north and east side of the lake to where I could cross Bear Creek itself via a single, shaky, downed cottonwood. And back west more or less along the creek, to the north of the big meadow and just within the trees near the creek. A Great Horned in there at times. Red Tailed perched above scouting. American Kestrel occasionally.

There's a good section in there for a bit with pretty much natural forest conditions (seems to me, anyway). With some downed trees and brush and cottonwoods. In there I saw my first American Goldfinch that was turning yellow... halfway, it seemed. By himself. Then suddenly nearby there was a quick courtship between two Northern Flickers, about 2.8 seconds of mating, and then they were just perched nonchalantly next to each other. I was looking for the Great Horned I'd seen there weeks back but with no luck.

Further to the west I was able to cross back to the north side of the creek and head back east. It was here that it happened. I became aware of the concentrated song in just one or two trees there. Coming into focus, I realized it was the American Goldfinch again, but this time plenty of them. I could see five at once but there were more. And they had it going on. So I just sat down to listen, had a look as well and spotted one that seemed to be almost 3/4 yellow-- yellowing from the top down.

So, these are the moments I'm talking about. I've had them with Robins, Blackbirds, Finches and Juncos. They're unique in whatever way-- stand-out-ish. Just, if you're paying attention, you've realized they've just really tucked into it. And how long do they last? 10 minutes? 30? not sure...

I've wanted to call them Euphonia moments.

Euphonious is defined as "pleasing to the ear"--

Euphonia is defined as "a tanager of the genus tanagra"--

Euphony is defined as "the acoustic effect produced by words so formed or combined as to please the ear"

Though in my mind words would be putting us off the scent. Words are not necessary here. It's about the notes and phrasing but also about the fact that this is done in company, not just alone. Not that the solo-singing is great as well... Just a different phenomenon. 

Yeah, anyway, I'm gonna use it my own way. Cause euphonia sounds related to euphoria as well, which captures some of the mood for me, for sure. 

So that's what i'm talking about from here on, cause I expect it'll be coming back up...

April :)

alright, spring/ summer migrants are starting to appear. yay!

Cormorants have showed up at one of their islands I know about-- off Clear Creek north and a tad east of Applewood. One of my favorite birding areas-- about a mile of riparian habitat with big cottonwoods, the creek running through, cattails, lots of brush too. First saw the cedar waxwings in there, and the ruby-crowned kinglet, and lots of water birds. But anyways, yep-- the cormorants are back. Probably a good 50 of them on their trashy little island (northern shovelers had the winter rental on the unit, but they've relinquished any claim to it at this point.

Cool thing is there's one pair of great blues nestled in there as well. So, a whole gaggle of cormorants and two blues...

Townsends solitaires have just showed up at my place of work-- the old Loretto Heights campus in southwest Denver. Hasn't been a whole lot going on here through the winter months. Though I did set up a feeder for awhile which brought squirrels more than anything, and then the red-tailed hawk which nailed one of 'em for lunch one day. Seen by me as I was just heading out of the building for my own lunchtime walk.

Spring break trip: Pueble to Santa Fe to Sand Dunes and BV...

Spring break: packed up the van to head down south again.Trip plan included a nights in Walsenburg (a somewhat randomly chosen town south of Pueblo, but with a cool little state park-- Lathrop, just across the road from our house), then later Sand Dunes and BV on the way home. And a couple national wildlife preserves, for sure: Las Vegas, Alamosa, maybe Monte Vista in the future...

Pueblo was the first stop, including popping down to the Arkansas from Abriendo Blvd to look for water birds and whatever else. Kinda quiet-- not much going on in the middle of the day-- but then some birds started appearing on the far side of the river, under the bridge, including the Ruddy Duck, with a bright blue almost iridescent beak. Guy was floating solo-- diving for snacks. Caught a good aerial view of him later from the bridge as we walked across into downtown for a cupcake, coffee, and several games of pinball. 350k to win a free cupcake-- I made it to 325 but came up short... Nice to play old-school pinball again, without too many bells and whistles, and to get Clem into it.

Then a stop at a little Italian grocery store for sausage and a few other supplies, including a new hat for Tob. Blue. Italian sports...

Onwards southward to Walsenburg for the night. A little rental that Gretch found west of town, just south of Lathrop State Park and good birding potential. Same road that heads west to Alamosa, over a pass, but we were going south first, then back up later.

Saturday

It's January 26th and there's been snow on the ground for two weeks now which is a good thing cause December was dry as hell and the reservoirs are down... We had snow two Fridays in a row, then this past Thursday again and it's hanging around a bit. Gretch and I got out for a walk into the Bear Creek State Park. Was plenty blustery; we decided to drop in along a little creek from Morrison road, just to do something different, really. Cold and windy enough that not many birds were out that I could see or hear but then on the backside of the lake-- we walked across, then back around, with ice fishing groups posted up on either side-- we ran into an extended group of sparrows flitting around in the brush and brambles near the cottonwoods. Same spot where I saw the Prairie Falcon a few weeks back, cruising just above the waves of grass looking for his supper.

Anyway, yes, Bear Creek Lake is frozen good and solid for the time being which is a good thing cause it's January after all-- the up and down temps of the first half of winter this year haven't allowed the ice to really firm up and the ice fishermen have probably been getting antsy as hell, but it's all good now...

So we walked back westwards on the south side of Bear Creek and at one point I tried to go ahead and cross the creek and my left foot pushed all the way through which was a little annoying but not so bad really, I just backtracked and then of course my foot pushed through a second time and Janx following me pushed through completely with her body, so we were both a bit wet. And decided to continue to the bridge, which is where we bumped into the American Kestrel again-- very cool little guy. I thought to myself maybe my favorite Raptor but no, that's not really true-- I like the Great Horneds and the Prairie Falcons and all the different hawks I've seen in the past month that I can't yet differentiate. But it was nice to see this guy again nonetheless-- think we've maybe seen him before, but maybe not; he seemed smaller than I remembered.

Gretch and I parted ways so I could strike out cross-country up a hill to angle back towards where we'd left the car. I'd knew it'd be a bit of a grunt so we agreed I'd swing back and pick her up at the ranger station. And I started running along the irrigation ditch cause I knew she was only a quarter mile from that station, and I was a good mile and then some from the car across the way. Janx came along behind and we were just dropping down to the road when a shadow flitted across in front of me, and coming to a stop and looking back around there was this big beautiful hawk just settling in the dead pine right behind me. And why? Man and dog running together, making noise and movement, and he flies right in behind them and settles, and didn't mind at all that I was there 10 yards away checking him out, and even when I raised the binocs. Seems like lots of hawks DON'T like it so much when they see you raising your binocs-- just that movement is enough to tip them off, as if they're saying "man... another dang white man bird tourist-- I'm moving on". But this one didn't mind at all and so I brought him into clear view and for the first time perhaps was having a good luck at a raptor's eye-- looking at me. Bright, shiny black it was-- his eye. And his chest and entire underside wonderful fluffy snow white, with a brown/black head, curved beak-- all the usual stuff. But the underside completely white, and the eye that shiny black.

And I thought now that I'm intentionally noticing birds more, maybe they're noticing me more as well. Sure didn't seem to be any real reason for him to settle there right near the road, with so many other trees back across the field in more open space to choose from behind him. Kind of like the cowbird three weeks or so before-- maybe the lines of communication are opening up a bit, or connection, at the very least.

More favorites--

Add American Widgeon to that-- another duck. "Duck" doesn't do them justice, though. This guy has a cool, wide white streak up the beak that somewhere past the crown of the head -- close to level with the eye on the back of the head-- turns to emerald green. The a splash of white on the shoulder, white and black on the butt, but mostly brown body. Great colors. Much more handsome than they appear in the Peterson guide.

Found a whole mess of 'em below the dam, Bear Creek Lake State Park, mixed in with hundreds of mallards. Some Common Goldeneye in there as well, Hooded Mergansers, Canadian Geese flying by (maybe headed to the lake itself).

Also saw a Green-Winged Teal last Wednesday in Clear Creek, just east of I-70. "Green-winged", he's named, but better would be "Sexy Duck with rocking green bandit bandana across the eye"-- the eye markings much more significant (to me) than anything on their wings.

And came across a group of Cedar Waxwings in the bushes east of there, eating berries. Named these guys "the Martinez bird" in lieu of not knowing at the time-- reminiscent of the hairstyle of one of my colleagues at work, with a little ponytail tuft off the back. Also distinctive about these guys: not skittish, they hung around eating berries even in close proximity of me as I watched, and tail feathers end with a half centimeter of bright yellow. More triangular head, as opposed to rounded. Hang out in groups, like those berries. Also saw a pair preening, picking out puffy tufts of something, standing shoulder to shoulder, almost as if they were kissing a bit, quick pecks on the cheek back and forth...

favorites

yes, favorites...

in the past i've been excited to see the Lazuli Buntings return-- hit our feeder, perch on the wire there. They stay for 1-2 weeks only that I remember, but are fantastic in their coloring and I've happy they stop at all. Also the western tanager. And the blue of the mountain bluebird. The yellow in the brush of the American Goldfinch. (In the spring, their winter colors are much muted.)

These all birds I know from the past. But the new ones I've noticing this year-- most suddenly pop up to favorite status for a bit...

The Dipper-- I've seen him in the past. Solitary guy. Hangs out at the creek, doing his little quick knee-bends, on a beat. With his quick chirps alerting you as to his whereabouts. Another dip, then another, then boom! he's jumped in and disappeared. Sometimes kayaking down, underwater at least a part of it. Happy in the snow, alone, but maybe appreciating the audience. We've seen him at our park in Morrison, but yesterday up on the South Platte near Foxton as well, on a warming January day. River frozen enough that we could walk up and down it. Thinking it'd be nice to return again today to take a proper walk up or down it for the morning. But probably won't, due to the drive and the intention to head another direction in search of Balds, and to ID that brown, clearly-marked duck of which I saw many the other day at Cormorant Island of Clear Creek-- markings so distinctive it seems ridiculous I haven't figured out what it is yet, but nonetheless there's nothing like it in either of my main books (Audubon and Peterson guides).

the title (??)

the birds are the new lens... I haven't had trouble motivating to get out over the years-- that's where I like to be, whether it's gardening climbing walking biking, doesn't mattter. But the birds are a new reason. Had a good day out-and-about with Clemmie and Gretch in the South Platte today-- a hike, a lunch, then a stop at split walk to walk up and down the river on the ice and jump back and forth a few times with Clem-- but now i've had a bit of a rest, a fresh cup of Joe and I'm ready to head out again, this time simply to a new spot-- one I've biked by a hundred times, seen guys fishing, but never stopped by with binoculars. Might be some interesting or different ducks down there... :)

Two pair of common golden eye camped out on our Morrison rez right now-- had a look at em this morning. Not typical, but they've been there 4-5 days. There's a small pond of free water within the larger pond that is still frozen-- about a fifth of it is water I spose. But after today more; it's been 50 degrees. Warm yesterday as well, following a good snow and freeze friday into friday night. (Sunday now).

so yeah-- bird, people, places-- cause the birds get me out to places I know but haven't REALLY got to know (you get to know em better walking slowly with binocs than you do biking through at 15mph). And then there are the people along the way too. Other birders, homeless guys, runners, yammers, couples, people with dogs, running groups-- all of em. They offer their own color and variety too, so they may get some notice in this here blog...

Day 1

The year started out with snow, juncos, and black-capped chickadees out back on my feeder. Cool little guys-- the juncos-- with some different varieties but all the same species, I just found out his past weekend from a much-more-knowledgeable birder up at the Red Rocks trading post (some feeders and activity out back of that).

Later in the morning of New Year's, Clem and I ran over to Bear Creek Lake State Park (BCL) and checked in with the feeder there. Lots more there, including the Downy Woodpecker and a white-crowned sparrow digging around at the base of the feeder like a little chicken. Northern flickers, and typically I've found out that red-wing blackbirds take over the feeders as big, garrulous gang in the mid-afternoon. House finches there as well in the morning...

In a day or two, we'd leave for Santa Fe-- a little road trip to go check out Meow Wolf. But on the way, my plan was to stop at the National Wildlife Preserve outside of Las Vegas, New Mexico. A place I would've never bothered with before now. In the past, I've been drawn to mountains, cliffs, rivers-- but now some marshy land with ponds out on the plains sounds pretty good for seeing some new birds. Hopefully. So yeah, that was the plan...

the thought, idea, intention, trip...

Into the third week of the new year here, rounding out my 49th year on this planet as well. Settling back into a work routine after some good time off...

Anyway, the idea: document some of my walks, outings and trips. In the pursuit of new birds, to some degree. I've dabbled in birding a bit in the past: first introduced in Honduras, but later started paying attention again here in Morrison, Colorado, as the hummingbirds arrived at our feeder, the great blue heron revisited our creek, the night heron was spotted again in his fishing spot hear the little dam/water fall. Suddenly I noticed the lazuli buntings, the tanagers, the orioles, the american goldfinches too, and some of their colors were rocking my world. That was two springs back. My attention was taken by other things: chess, work, garden, kids, food. But now it's back.

So I've embarked on my own little big year. Yep, I'm keeping track of my birds this year, and even contemplating a trip or two based on BIRDS. Well hell yeah, it's as good a reason as any to get out and go somewhere else, right?

So this blog is a place to dump some notes, though I'm surely going to comment on other things as well. People that I see along the way. The places, too. And whatever else.

One challenge is that I really don't know my birds too well yet, so we're looking for some growth here. Hence, I would feel weird about really calling this "a big year"-- I'll spend more time trying to figure out what I just saw than tallying up big numbers. But that's all good. So here goes...