Summer 2020

Purple Martin Garret Lau, Wester Tanager Tom Grey, Brown-headed Cowbird: young male Tom Grey, Cowbird chick Tom Grey, Purple Martin Garret Lau

Purple Martin Garret Lau, Wester Tanager Tom Grey, Brown-headed Cowbird: young male Tom Grey, Cowbird chick Tom Grey, Purple Martin Garret Lau

What to Look for Now—Timely Birding

Summer 2020

Matthew Dodder
SCVAS Executive Director

Summer is often disparaged as a slow season for birds. An uninteresting time. Birders often refer to it as the summer doldrums because it seems that nothing is happening—nothing new...

But I think otherwise.

For a moment, let’s assume that’s true, and that there’s a good reason for that attitude. I think that’s debatable, but remember the young have fledged, many adults have stopped singing, and the frenzy of migration has either passed us already or not yet begun. We are in a bit of a lull. So, yes, maybe nothing extraordinary is afoot.

FROTH

Occasionally though, we see an interesting rarity like last summer’s “Eastern” Bell’s Vireo or Eastern Kingbird... But generally, summer is a low energy season. I liken the rarities of summer to what one sees when watching the waves and tide pools along the coast. When the water rushes in, I imagine it being like a high-speed spring migration. Likewise, when the water rushes out, it seems like a tiny fall migration. The most dramatic movement passes in an instant, but watch what happens in the sheltered tide pools and eddies— the froth rotates in a a slow deliberate circle, but it moves nonetheless. That is how I imagine the Alviso Bell’s Vireo and Eastern Kingbird... like froth. Rotating slowly toward us after the rush.

Dark-eyed Junco adult and juvenile, Tom Grey

Dark-eyed Junco adult and juvenile, Tom Grey

Summer is the time many birders travel to get their fix of unfamiliar species, and visit places they haven’t been before. All in pursuit of the “new." Presumably this satisfies that desire for novelty. For teachers and students, such excursions are not even possible outside of these summer months, so that is when Cricket and I take our longer road trips or overseas birding tours. Traveling to the tropics, during summer, by the way means birding during the “green season”—a clever euphemism for “rainy every day." It throws a nice light on 100% humidity. At least summer trips to the tropics are not hindered by northern species in their drab winter plumages... and there are fewer birders... but the ones that remain are spectacular, and new.

But since such travel may still be discouraged by the time this Avocet is released, we as birders may be compelled to keep our summer birding plans restricted to nearby areas. Whether or not tours are canceled, there is reason to be excited about this time of year. It is not a cause for disappointment because there are plenty of compelling reasons to bird around home, and it’s high time we accept that.

CHALLENGE OF INDEPENDENCE

Bullock’s Oriole, Tom Grey

Bullock’s Oriole, Tom Grey

For one, the challenge. Great numbers of fledged young appear and confuse us. The Dark-eyed Juncos for example, with their spotted breast and streaked back often throw us off. They wear this unexpected plumage only briefly andwill soon look more like their familiar parents. Luckily, those birders who remain in the area get to see this marvelous, albeit brief plumage. It provides birders a little excitement during the time it exists, and an opportunity to sharpen our skills. Similarly, all young birds (Tanagers and Orioles in particular) present us with a seasonally-specific challenge of both finding and identifying their unfamiliar young.

One can even keep watch for that sudden change in parental behavior, when the feeding stops and the young are forced to “get a job." I love that moment, and I enjoy seeing the newly evicted youth dig in to their independence and start getting stronger and making their way—from the altricial young Allen’s Hummingbirds to precocial lawn-mowing Canada Geese. These small moments are best appreciated when we linger.

I also look forward to seeing young Brown-headed Cowbirds. Not only will the huge fledglings beg for food from their hapless hosts, but their parasitic life cycle is fascinating and almost literary in its intrigue—a tale of identity theft, fraud, and broken families. Later in the year, we will see the young male gradually acquire its glossy black plumage as he grows, patch by patch into his role as accomplice to a crime.

Purple Martin, Brooke Miller

Purple Martin, Brooke Miller

The summer months are also when I choose to visit Loma Prieta Avenue to search for nesting Purple Martins. It features a stunning view and a peaceful setting situated on western boundary of our County. If all goes well, they should be crossing between Santa Clara and Santa Cruz Counties as they venture out and return to their nests in the large dead conifers in the valley below. While I am up there, I always head to the large gravel turnout by the junction with Mount Madonna Road and listen for Black-chinned Sparrows, one of my all-time favorite songs. Bell’s Sparrow, another favorite, is found in this mid-elevation chaparral too, as are a selection of Flycatchers including Olive-sided Flycatcher, Western Wood Pewee, and Ash-throated Flycatcher. One beautiful, remote spot, almost devoid of other humans, provides all the new excitement a restless birder requires.

Wilson’s Phalaropes should should be coming through soon too. They will be molting into their basic plumage after breeding. As I write this column, the Phalaropes in the East Bay are in glorious alternate (breeding) plumage. Red-necked Phalaropes will not be far behind Wilson’s in later summer and it should be possible to see both on a good day.

WHAT HAPPENS NEXT

What seems pretty certain I think, as far as what to look for during these hopefully post-COVID summer months,
is that nothing will be exactly as we remember. The rules surrounding outdoor activities may return to normal, but the habits we adopted in April will take a long time to break, if we are even able to do so. Our first instinct when we approach others on the trail may still be to put extra distance between us. We may continue to see facemasks in the field. The importance of social distance has been so ingrained in us by this point, it seems unlikely that we will forget it any time soon.

I expect we may continue to seek out less-populated areas for our activities, such as locations that are less-reported
on eBird, and parks with wider trails or fewer people. These all seem like positive developments. We may also take the opportunity to further explore our 5-Mile Radius (5MR), our 1MR or even our immediate neighborhood. Cricket and I enjoy simply looking out our windows and gradually expanding our house list which is almost 100 as of today. All of these things have a common theme—slow down, be safe and appreciate what is right next to you—a possibility of discovery, something newsomething you’ve never seen, a place you’ve never been. These novelties don’t have to be located half a world away, nor do they have to be rare or unusual. They can simply be new and wonderful to you.