The Hummingbirds of Southern California

Although not really a hummingbird haven like southeast Arizona, southern California still hosts six species of the Trochilidae family. 

The most common is the Anna's Hummingbird (Calypte anna), which can be seen even in urban gardens. As in all of the these species, the male is the one that has the more colorful gorget, especially given the proper light and angle. Male Anna's have an iridescent magenta or reddish pink crown and gorget. By the way, it's name was derived from Anna Massena, duchess of Rivoli, by Rene Lesson, an 18th century French Ornithologist and Herpetologist.

Arguably just as common as the Anna's is the Allen's Hummingbird (Selasphorus sasin) which can also be easily seen in parks. It is generally rufous in color, the male having an orange-red gorget. It's forehead and back has a green color. The name commemorates Charles Andrew Allen, a collector and taxidermist of the early 19th century. 

Similar looking and often confused with the Allen's is the Rufous Hummingbird (Selasphorus rufus). The male Rufous can be best distinguished from the Allens, by having a lesser amount of green on the crown and back. Rufous Hummingbirds are also migratory and can be more commonly seen in Southern California in spring.

Another migrant, seen only during the summer months is the less colorful Black-chinned Hummingbird (Archilochus alexandri). It's dark chin becomes iridescent deep purple at the right amount and angle of light.

The following two species are less common than the previous four. It was just sheer luck that I was able to photograph both at the Eaton Canyon Park in Pasadena not far from where I used to live. 

The Costa's Hummingbird (Calypte costae) is a resident of arid and semi-arid regions of California and Arizona. However, in summer, it seeks shelter from the heat and inhabits chaparral and woodlands. It is similar to Anna's in terms of the color of the male's throat. However, the Costa's gorget extends out to the sides.

The smallest bird in North America is the Calliope Hummingbird (Selasphorus calliope). It is also a migrant and can be seen in southern California during its spring and autumn passage.The male has wine-red streaks on its throat instead of the usual gorget.

Information derived from wikipedia and allaboutbirds.org

A Walk in the Park

We are still getting adjusted to California weather and time having just arrived from the Philippines a couple of days ago. To shake off the remaining bits of jet lag, Cynthia and I decided to visit nearby Palmer Park and check out the local avian denizens.

Palmer Park is a small patch of greenery in the city of Glendale. It being a work day, there weren't that many people that morning. A few individuals were enjoying the sun to counteract the early morning chill. The birds we saw were typical of any city park in Southern California. The most common, of course, were the House Sparrows.

and the American Crow

Mourning Doves were quite plentiful

There are two species of hummingbirds one would most likely encounter here (interestingly both with "human" names: 

Anna's

and Allens

Now here is a challenge I set forth to my bird photographer friends: I dare you to try and get a photo of the American Bushtit. I say that because taking a picture of this species is a test of patience and skills. Why is that? Here are a few reasons: 1) Bushtits are small. As in teeny weeny small. They are only 11 cm long and that includes the tail. 2) Very drab in color. Plain (no streaks or spots) gray-brown that blends perfectly to their habitat and 3) They are hyperactive! They are continuously foraging for insects and almost never stops to take a breather. To top it all the female is oh so slightly different from the male. How? the color of the eyes: male-dark brown, female-yellow!

male

The female I was able to photograph the day before at Eaton Canyon (please see my previous blog post)

Local parks here in California, even small ones like Palmer Park, hosts a variety of birds. We were glad that we took a walk and enjoyed photographing them.

"You know how to pish, don't you?" *

"You put your lips together and go psssh!”

Well, no matter how I tried, my pishing efforts were never successful. Last year I bought Pete Dunne’s “The Art of Pishing” which included a CD of how correct pishing sounds like. I followed all his instructions, from plain pishing to imitating the sound of an owl. All that happened was that the front of my shirt became drenched from all that spewing from my lips.

Last Monday at San Joaquin Wildlife Santuary in Irvine, through my feeble attempts at pishing, I tried to coax the following to show themselves out in the open: a Common Yellowthroat, a Marsh Wren and a few Song Sparrows. Yes, I did the “pssssh!” sound and the “lu-lu-lu-lu!” of an owl. No response. I saw some fluttering behind the tall reeds, but that’s about it. Thankfully I was the only one there, otherwise people might get curious why I was so frantically wiping off my binoculars which was hanging from my neck.

So I moved on. Catching a glimpse of some movement behind a tall brush, I took a deep breath and was about so burst forth in an ear-splitting pish when an Anna’s Hummingbird suddenly alit on a branch just a few feet away. It stared curiously at me and then flashed me with the most gorgeous shining gorget I have ever seen.


Satisfied that it succeeded in preventing me from puckering my lips and making a fool of myself, the tiny angel of a bird flew off.

Things got a lot better after that. Rounding a corner, I was surprised to see a Northern Harrier perched on a bare branch. At about 30 feet, that was the closest I was able to get to this raptor species.

The ponds were full of ducks and all three species of Teals were well represented: Blue-winged,

Green-winged

and Cinnamon.

After lunch, I visited Bolsa Chica and easily refound the White-winged Scoter. This time it was much closer and I got even better shots than the last time.
* To Have and Have Not, 1944

Here and There Birding

My bad luck seemed to continue as I consistently dipped on my target birds the past couple of days. Fall migration is in full swing and there were a few reports on migrating warblers passing through the San Gabriel Valley area.

When I went to Eaton Canyon last Monday morning, my expectations were really not that high. So I just challenged myself to take a picture of every species I saw. After a couple of hours, I saw about 16 species and had photographed 13 - 3 of which are not good enough for my standards. Among the better shots are: A young Anna's Hummingbird whose head seemed like it was dipped in grape jelly...

Tuesday morning I headed to Legg Lake. At the area where we found the Bay-breasted Warbler last year, various kinds of warblers, including a rare Lucy's, were reportedly seen. Of course when I got there, there wasn't a single bird at all. Not one! To console myself from such disappointment, I wandered around the lake and even visited nearby Whittier Narrows, hoping for some sort of redemption. Thankfully, there was. At a tiny puddle of water in Whittier Narrows, an Anna's Hummingbird, unable to stand the sweltering heat, decided to take a bath.

Soon it was followed by an Orange-crowned Warbler, finally showing why it was given such a name.

I returned to Legg Lake shortly after that, where I encountered a group of birders staring at a young Red-tailed Hawk, uncharacteristically perched low on a high tension wire tower.

I joined the group for a few minutes as they searched vainly for the warblers as well. I even managed to show them a young Bullock's Oriole who tiptoed to look at the bunch of gawking people below.

The heat of the day and the disappointment of not seeing some unusual warblers were both getting to be quite unbearable, so at 10:30 am I called it quits.

Feliz Bolsa Chica

After Christmas my wife and I agreed that we needed to shed off a few pounds gained through partaking sinful foods from various holiday feasts. A walk around Bolsa Chica would do the trick was our unanimous decision.

There weren't too many people at the boardwalk when we arrived. Cynthia wasted no time joining the photographer who was so concentrated on taking pictures of something beneath the boardwalk. She was rewarded by shots of a Surf Scoter enjoying an early morning clam chowder, without the chowder. The clam was of course gone when I arrived at the scene.


Our walk up to the tidal gates was uneventful, perhaps because the water level was quite high thus no waders nor peeps were present. The resident ducks were all dozing off at some distance away from the trails. While passing by the tall, dead trees on the north side, Cynthia pointed to a fluff of feathers ensconced between the trunk and a thick branch on the shadowy part of a tree. Bringing up my binos, I at first, couldn't figure out what the creature was. It then moved its head and opened its eyes (it, too, was dozing off) and hallelujah! A Peregrine Falcon!! We have always wanted to get a photograph of this magnificent raptor, preferably in flight, but hey, a sleepy one would do just fine. We probably spent about an hour just admiring and taking photographs of our unmindful subject. Occasionally, we would proudly point it to some passing birders, as if it were our very own trophy. Actually, Cynthia was just waiting for it to fly so she could fulfill her dream (she's the expert in BIF - birds in flight - shots).

While my wife was patiently waiting for some peregrine action, I wandered off a bit and got some nice shots of a Downy Woodpecker which was loudly pok-pok-poking nearby.

A few meters up the trail, I was surprised to find a male Red-breasted Merganser swimming close to the shore. Up to this point I have only seen females at various locations (even at an unlikely place as the tiny, trickling San Diego Creek). You can just imagine my thrill in getting a male, which has a dark deep blue head, as opposed to the female's red-orange, at such close range. I also did get a photo of a female later on our return trip.



Realizing that the falcon had no intent of leaving its roost, we reluctantly moved on. As we were negotiating the middle berm, I spotted the Reddish Egret also trying to get some shut-eye.

This time as I was pre-occupied with my target wader, Cynthia's attention was caught by a Belted Kingfisher perched not too far from the egret. Despite the distance and the relatively small size of the kingfisher, my wife was still able to get her BIF shot.


And as we were leaving the area, she also got a picture of what looks like a pissed-off Anna's Hummingbird.


As we neared the tidal gates once again, we were startled by a raptor that quickly took off from a grassy spot in the middle of the channel. When I looked at where it flew from, I noticed that there was still another raptor remaining behind. The owl-like disc on its face told me it was a Northern Harrier!


We have never been this close to a Harrier before and so we started clickling away until the raptor had enough of us and decided to follow its mate. This time I got my BIF shot.


Everything was sort of anti-climatic after that. Even the Scoter has left the vicinity of the boardwalk.

We may not have lost the desired poundage that day but we sure gained a few nice surprises.