Category: Uncategorized

After deriding people for chasing after the eared quetzal for their birding lists, I went chasing after — the eared quetzal. This bird is a very rare visitor from the Sierra Madre mountains of Mexico. Every fifteen years or so it shows up in the madrean sky islands of southeastern Arizona. This year three of them have been spotted in the Chiricahua Mountains in Cochise County, and I saw two of them — a remarkable addition to my Big Week list. 

Eared quetzal (Euptilotis neoxenus) at Cave Creek near Portal, Arizona. 

There is something about seeing a roadrunner in a tree that makes it very clear how closely they are related to cuckoos.

Greater roadrunner (Geococcyx californianus) in a Chinese pistache tree (Pistacia chinensis), at the Sierra Vista Environmental Operations Park, Sierra Vista, Arizona.

The only disappointment on the first day of my Big Week was finding a reclamation pond at the Sierra Vista Environmental Operations Park had been drained, and the bulrushes and cattails burned. I expected to find white-faced ibises there to add to my list. It must have been done very recently, because it was still smoldering. But then this handsome coyote showed up, posing and looking like he was ready to try for the Westminster Kennel Club show. Birding is more than birds. 

Big Week

My birthday is next week. My age will be one of those years evenly divided by five that somehow seem more significant. It’s probably the mental residue of some archetype fixed in our subconscious, something to do with the span of our hands or our number of fingers and toes. Anyway, it feels important to me. I’m going to celebrate!

In recognition of the day I’m going to do a big birding week. Starting tomorrow I’m going to count all of the bird species I see. I’ll end my count on my birthday on the 28th.

This is a big departure for me. I am, in fact, a very slack birder. I just like to be outdoors, which is where birds happen to be. I try to notice them. I’ve never bothered to count or list them. I meet so many birders who are obsessed with the count. This year we have had several rare birds showing up in southeast Arizona. People are constantly asking, “Did you get the quetzal? Did you see the jacana? Are you on eBird?” But I’m not a twitcher, and I’m not a counter. It all feels too much like Whitman’s Learned Astronomer with his proofs and figures and columns. I spent most of my professional life measuring and counting things, and it seems a sure way to rob birdwatching of its joys and pleasures.

But this is a little different. My Big Week is mostly an opportunity to visit a few beautiful places in Arizona. I’m not going too far from home, making only day trips. I’ve been restricting travel, even locally, since Covid times began. This will be a chance to explore some. I’m going to Portal, Arizona, and Madera Canyon, Patagonia, the Willcox Playa and the Buenos Aires Wildlife Refuge. Staying very close to home I’ll be visiting San Pedro House, and Ash Canyon. I even have a few wastewater treatment ponds on my list of hotspots, for shorebirds and waterfowl. Given the diversity of bird species here, especially during fall migration, I should have no problem seeing as many species as my age, and probably many more.

Finally, because I can see the absurdity and self-indulgence of the project, I’m going to give it a point: for every Big Week bird species I’m going to donate a dollar to our local food bank. So wish me luck, and many happy returns of the day, and a great long list of birds, and a big check for the Community Food Bank of Southern Arizona.

Images in the collage are from John James Audubon’s Birds of America,  printed between 1827 and 1838, adapted from the digital collections of the Audubon Center at Mill Grove in Audubon, Pennsylvania.

Bruiser.

A few weeks ago I noticed this little first-year male Anna’s hummingbird at Ash Canyon. He was injured; the tips of his upper and lower beak were dangling, barely attached. The damage looked a lot like a badly torn fingernail. Birds’ beaks are made of the same keratin as nails, only they can’t grow back once they are broken. A few days later the dangling parts dropped off.

There’s no way to tell what caused his injury—conflict, collision, or some accident while feeding—but I worried that he wouldn’t last long without a fully functional beak. Somehow he seems to be thriving.

Anna’s hummingbirds are resident here all winter; I expect he will stay close, where he has a consistent food source. When I first noticed him he was only eating insects that he caught on the wing, even though he was badly hurt. He has begun feeding at flowers again, which accounts for the smudge of pollen on his forehead. And he has become fiercely protective of his favorite feeder at the sanctuary, so at least I can find him in the crowd and keep track of his progress.