Going Cuckoo

I needed to go birding Saturday morning. Staying at the office until 8:30 on Friday night wasn't the way I wanted to end the week. I needed the cathartic effect of seeing winged creatures enjoying their God-given freedom.

We uncostumarily woke up late (was I that tired?) but that didn't deter us from accomplishing my mission. Off to the San Joaquin Wildlife Sanctuary (SJWS) in Irvine we went. For the past two days, there were reports that a Yellow-billed Cuckoo was seen in its premises. Adding a lifer to my list would certainly be a soothing balm to yesterday's frayed nerves. We surveyed the areas surrounding the several ponds where the rufous-winged brown bird was reportedly seen. At one point, a Tree Swallow eyed us warily as we came unintentionally close to its nest box. Further on, a young Great Blue Heron was unmindful even as we were taking its picture from about 5 feet away. Suddenly, I saw a brown bird with a longish tail fly quickly from one tree to another!

"There it is!" I yelled to Cynthia. We both scanned each and every branch of the tree where it landed, mentally turning over each leaf, searching for our elusive quarry. Certain birds have this uncanny ability to become invisible right under your nose. Despite our diligent efforts and my wife's bionic ears, the Cuckoo, if it was indeed that bird, was never found again. Was I sure it was the Yellow-billed Cuckoo? A GISS (general impression of size and shape) would make it so. But I'm not an expert birder by any stretch of imagination so, reluctantly, this bird will not make it to my lifelist...yet.

The sun was at its apex and the temperature was in the high 90's. It was time to return to the more mundane activity of satisfying our growling stomachs.

Credit my wife for her perfect intuition. After lunch, she suggested we try birding Upper Newport Bay and Bolsa Chica knowing this would somehow alleviate the disappointment of the missed Cuckoo sighting. 

Upper Newport Bay was uncharacteristically quiet although it afforded us some views of Black Skimmers doing their thing. Skimmers are quaint seabirds in that their upper beak is shorter than the lower beak. The reason for this, is that its method of feeding is to dip the lower beak in the water while skimming the surface of the body of water (thus the name Skimmer). When the lower beak hits an object (hopefully, a fish), then the Skimmer would close its beak and swallow the prey. After the Skimmers moved on to better fishing grounds, we saw some raptors flying overhead. First there were two, then three, then finally four birds were wheeling and playing up against the blue skies. Again, the GISS says they were falcons. But these were bigger than Kestrels. And they were brown, whereas Merlins are gray. Their identity was a puzzle (did I mention I was not an expert birder?) until I looked at the blown up pictures at home. Peregrines! Not one but four Peregrines! Although not a lifer, these are such magnificent creatures that seeing them would be like laying eyes on the legendary Phoenix.

Bolsa Chica, likewise, was pretty quiet. Luckily, we were again rewarded with witnessing the strange fishing techniques of a Black Skimmer. Terns were all over the place, so we got the chance to practice our BIF shots.

Reminiscing later at home, I was just thankful that even though I did not see the Yellow-billed Cuckoo, the adventure in and of itself relieved me of going cuckoo over Friday's draining work.

A Fresh Ending

We had originally planned to go to San Elijo Lagoon in Encinitas close to San Diego. But then we woke up late (again) this Saturday. (Must be the cool autumn nights, we reckoned). Anyway, we decided to go the San Joaquin/Upper Newport Bay route. This should give us a good enough variety of birds albeit the commoner species, to observe and photograph.

The very first pond we looked into at the San Joaquin Wildlife Sanctuary contained lots, and I mean lots! of American White Pelicans and American Avocets, some Black-necked Stilts, a sprinkling of Grebes and a bunch of Coots. However, they were quite a distance off and the group or any individual did not present a good photo-op. The Sparrows were scooting under the tangled bushes at our approach and the Common Yellowthroat teased us continually by showing themselves long enough to be seen but never long enough to be photographed.

We both agreed that it was time to move on to Upper Newport Bay. We briefly stopped at the edge of the road where Jamboree Avenue crosses over the bay. Below us gliding and searching for prey was a Northern Harrier which was soon joined by a Red-tailed Hawk. The two battled for a short while for territorial dominance and then decided to divvy up the wide area with the Harrier taking up the west side while the Hawk hovered over the east side.

We then proceeded to Back Bay Drive. Back Bay Drive is about a mile long and is a one-lane, one way street that goes from west to east and is used mostly by bikers and joggers. It hugs the southern edge of the Upper Newport Bay on its left side. Halfway up the road is a parking place and short boardwalk to observe birds. A few feet from the parking area is a dip where water flows from under the road to the bay. This was where birds, lots of them, can be found. If San Joaquin had pelicans and avocets, Upper Newport Bay had skimmers, godwits, willets, tattlers, gulls – tons of them! Again, these birds were so close to each other that an aesthetic photographic composition was out of the question. Frustrated at the inability to take pictures despite the plethora of birds, we decided to drive on. A little further down the road, I glimpsed a duck that I have not seen before. I immediately stepped on the brake and adroitly maneuvered the car back to the shoulder of the road overlooking the watery nook where the ducks were. A single Eurasian Widgeon, distinguished by its red head stood out among the commoner American Widgeons. Surveying the quacking throng, I noticed some brown-headed ducks with a long tail. “Northern Pintails!”, I shouted. The handsome birds, lifers for me, were digitally captured by my camera.

Having my fill of duck photos, we continued our drive. “Mourning Dove”, Cynthia said nonchalantly (it being a very common bird) as she pointed to a bird perched on a leafless tree on my side of the road. I looked at it and slammed on the brakes for the second time. “Back, back, back”, I told Cynthia as I engaged the car in reverse and gingerly parked on a small strip of land almost below the bird. It was actually an American Kestrel, heretofore a very skittish bird to observe. But this one probably was used to being stared at and thus provided me with great photo opportunities. I even managed to change lenses and it still remained where it was, unmindful of the activities below. Eventually it flew off perhaps hearing the growling of our stomachs (it was well past noon).

Refreshed by visions of ducks and raptors, we drove all the way back to Pasadena where we partook of some burritos at Baja Fresh.