Do You Hear what I Hear?

There were confirmed sightings of a Yellow-throated Vireo at Peck Pit in Arcadia last Sunday, June 21st.

Peck Pit - not a flattering name for a place that would host such a rare avian visitor as a Yellow-throated Vireo. But that's how it is known to birders in the San Gabriel Valley. It's real name is Peck Road Park and is actually more popular among fishermen due to the trout and catfish population of the lake within the park. No one really knows how it became to be known as "Peck Pit" to birders. Note that only birders refer to it by that name, not the fishermen and not the occasional picnickers.

But I digress. Monday morning I was at the "Pit" hoping to locate the aformentioned vireo. After going around the park and not finding the bird, I sat at one of the picnic tables not far from the parking lot, pondering what to do next. As I sat there deep in contemplation, a birder approached me and asked the inevitable "Have you seen it?" question. I shook my head and smiled sheepishly at him. Only a passionate birder would understand the feelings of "dipping" on a rare bird and this guy knew instantly what I was experiencing by the pained look in my eyes.

"It was here yesterday", he assured me, pointing to the tall sycamore trees not far from where we were. "Best way to find it is to listen for it," he said, explaining that it is visually difficult to spot the vireo as it blends perfectly with its chosen habitat. Then he asked the question I was afraid would come next: "Did you hear it calling this morning?"

I explained apologetically that I was a bit hearing impaired. I can hear normal human speech (at close range) but not the high pitched twitter of tiny birds up in the treetops. "No problem", he said as he asked me to follow him under the sycamores. In a few minutes he was exclaiming: "I can hear it!" followed almost immediately by: "There it is!" Indeed there it was, a tiny yellow green bird peering at us from among the yellow green sycamore leaves. I was even able to get off a few photos.


"Well, I got to go work", the guy said. I thanked him profusely for finding the bird for me as he waved goodbye. This has happened quite a few times in the past when a birder would lead me to a rare bird. My wife calls these people "angels". Today, not only did I get an "angel" named Larry, he became my hearing aid as well.



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Doozy Goosey

In the beginning was darkness. Gray clouds blanketed the early morning skies. Undeterred, two birders were on the go. Our mission - of which we were deadset to accomplish - was to observe the Yellow-throated Vireo at Huntington Central Park in Orange County. It will be a daunting task, we both agreed – the subject bird being quite small, greenish, constantly on the move and frequents the canopies of tall trees.

It was still gloomy when we arrived. Icy breezes sent chills that seemed to penetrate our very being. People and their dogs were everywhere. Another reason not to raise our expectations of ever seeing the vireo. A hundred yards into the park and we saw three birders all looking up at the towering trees.

“Have you seen the vireo?” Cynthia asked one of them.

“It’s here”, he said, pointing to the top of a tree before them.

Then she heard it. Soon we were getting glimpses of the hyperactive bird. Finally it flew across the paved trails and landed on the leafless branch of a shorter tree. We got looks and were even able to take some frustratingly bad photographs of it.

For us it all happened within fifteen minutes of our arrival. That was to be the best luck we would have all day. Another target bird, the Gull-billed Tern, was a no-show at the Upper Newport Bay area. A visit at the San Joaquin Wildlife Sanctuary would have been a complete disaster were it not for a pair of Egyptian Geese nonchalantly munching some grass at Pond E. Even the Red-breasted Sapsucker that birder friend, Pat Thelen, said he saw earlier at Pond 4 seemed to have vanished into thin air.

When we were approaching the parking lot, the sycamore tree next to it yielded in quick succession: a Western Wood Peewee, a Pacific Slope Flycatcher and what appeared to be some kind of Vireo, probably a Warbling. None of which stayed long enough for a chance to be included in our photographic archives.

In the end there was light and the sun was shining brightly, but for us our birding day was over. It was time to return to the more mundane things in life. Like having lunch.