Not Bad in Carlsbad

My high school classmate and friend, Arcadio Estanislao, recently moved to Carlsbad, California. We had the opportunity to visit him and his wife, Nori, at their beautiful new home. After treating us to a hearty lunch at Fish House, Arcadio was kind enough to take us to nearby Batiquito Lagoon for some birding. Unfortunately, the lagoon itself was quite a distance from the parking area and would require some trekking - something we didn't really want to do under a fierce afternoon sun. Fortunately, I saw a raptor hovering within camera distance. That could only be a White-tailed Kite, I told my wife. A personal favorite, and a species I haven't seen (much less photograph) in quite some time.

Then it was time to say goodbye to our gracious hosts. On our way home, we stopped by Starbucks for some ice-blended coffee. While Cynthia and my son, Kurt, were buying the java, I was out photographing the Brewer's Blackbirds that had grown so used to human presence that I could almost touch them.

Although we didn't see a lot of birds (after all this was a social and not a birding trip), I was still grateful that I had black-and-white photographs of two species that I needed for my American bird collection.

Godwit us ...and everything just falls into place

It was one of those days when everything turned out perfectly. Last Saturday's outing was saved by seeing a Golden Eagle scarfing on an unfortunate Coot. Earlier that morning we completely dipped at finding the Bar-tailed Godwit - a southern California rarity that had been seen it seems by everybody else but us.

But it was completely different this Saturday. We were so lucky to have "angels" who showed us what we were looking for. We planned our birding sortie like so: First, go the Upper Newport Bay and look for the Bar-tailed Godwit, then proceed to nearby Mason Regional Park to see White-tailed Kites - all nine of them, and finally to San Gabriel City to add the Lewis' Woodpecker to our yearlist. Sounds simple. But as any birder knows, accomplishing even the best laid plans is quite a different story.

Bright and early we were next to the bike path beneath the Jamboree bridge at Upper Newport Bay. I was scanning the small strip of land to the west where a bunch of shorebirds were still sleeping. However, one of them was busy foraging the island's edge. It looked different from the  snoozing Marbled Godwits next to it. Is it possible that we finally found our quarry? I was photographing this bird when a couple of birders appeared on the other side of the creek and started peering through their spotting scopes at the opposite direction of where I was pointing my camera! I looked up at these birders with a puzzled look on my face. One of them, perhaps noticing my curious mien, shouted, "The Bar-tailed Godwit is under the bridge!" I quickly left my camera (which was on a tripod), my wife, and sanity, as I ran down from the bicycle trail to the muddy, slippery part directly under the bridge peering at the edge. And then seeing the godwit, which was on our side of the creek, fly off to other side! My wife, who gingerly followed me, saw my exasperation and as in numerous other occasions, consoled me by pointing to the Godwit which was busy looking for food right across from us. I retrieved my camera gear and spent the next hour or so trying to take a picture of our beloved Bar-tailed Godwit. Which was not a simple task considering the bird kept moving as it searched the muddy edge of the creek for food and every so often disappears from view as it gets behind the huge concrete bridge supports.

Elated at our success in finding and photographing the Bar-tailed Godwit, we then proceeded to the William R. Mason Regional Park at University Avenue. We drove around the park trying to locate the "wilder" east side where the Kites reportedly hang out. No "wilder" parts, no kites, only picnickers. Cynthia and I were mulling our next move when Shelly, the local Park Ranger, drove up to us. We told her our dilemma and "angel" Shelly asked us to follow her to the entrance gate, where she 1) gave us the directions to the "wilder" side, 2) gave us a map of the park, and 3) refunded our $5 entrance fee! We happily thanked her and without further ado, drove to where she directed us. As we walked into the "wilder" part (which was actually called Phase III of Mason Park) we saw a lady with a camera and a zoom lens (a bird photographer, we rightly concluded). When asked about the kites, she said she was just taking pictures of them and that she would be happy to take us there. And she did, and there atop a tree were kites, all nine of them!

We were now batting two out of three! Our plan in looking for the Lewis Woodpecker would be after lunch, because that was the time that it had always been reported seen. After our rendezvous with the Kite family, we had a leisurely lunch at Irvine. Then off we were to the suburban neighborhood in San Gabriel. I did a drive by in this area a few days earlier after taking Cynthia to work (which was not that far from the Woodpecker site) and saw nothing. This time we parked in front of the house at 510 Del Mar and stared at the electrical post behind it. Nothing. Just a pole standing starkly against the grey skies. I decided to walk further up to get another angle. As I stood in front of the 512 Del Mar house, I saw it! The bird was behind the pole. As I walked back to get my camera, the Woodpecker decided to cooperate and showed itself in full view right in front of where we were parked. And that, as the saying goes, was icing on the cake.

According to the encyclopedia, the word "godwit" came from the Old English words, "god" and "wihte" which means "good creature". If our experience today was any indication, the Godwit indeed lived up to it's name.



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Birding the New Year

What a better way to start the year than by going birding. Also, it is an excuse to get away from the madness of the Rose Parade - Pasadena's once-a-year claim to fame.

We went to Frank Bonelli Regional Park - not to chase a lifer - but to get reacquainted with the Painted Redstart that has made it its home. Just as we got off the freeway and came at the Park gate (there was no attendant, so we assumed the entry is free), the place was enveloped in fog! Thick, soupy, can't see-beyond-five-feet, fog!

Slowly, almost to a crawl, I inched the jeep to the parking space next to restroom # 8, the hangout of the Painted Redstart. Despite the darkness and the damp air, I assembled my gear (this is beyond hope, this is faith!) while Cynthia stood beneath the tree that our quarry calls home. Not long afterwards, Cynthia was almost jumping up and down as she pointed to the tiny black and red bird foraging among the leaves high up in the tree. And as if the bird possessed some magic, the sun slowly flooded the park dissipating the cold mist. On cue, birds were suddenly everywhere! Robins sang, Western Bluebirds darted after insects, Cedar Waxwings were picking berries, Yellow-rumped Warblers were frolicking in a manner only they can. A young dew-laden Downy Woodpecker was rubbing its feathers against a branch trying to dry itself.

After having our fill photographing these birds, we went back to the Redstart and tried to take its picture. This was no easy task. Painted Redstarts are very active birds, always flitting among the leaves and branches capturing insects for food. We spent about an hour without any decent shot to satisfy our standards. At one point, while I patiently waited for a better opportunity, Cynthia wandered off the parking lot, where out of nowhere, a Red-tailed Hawk flew by. Cynthia just adores raptors, especially those in flight and this was no exception.

Eventually, we moved to a place near the lake where again Cynthia's ears helped locate a Common Yellowthroat and a Bewick's Wren investigating fallen leaves for whatever edible morsel they could find underneath. I even got lucky with a lifer - a Cassin's Vireo that was passing by! Next we concentrated on water birds, where we got a Spotted Sandpiper and some Gadwalls (a kind of duck) among the usual carpet of Coots. When a belligerent Goose started harassing us, we decided to go back to our Redstart and give it another shot.

On the way back, we decided to check out the place where I saw some Cactus Wrens the last time I visited the place. There were no wrens this time, but we were pleasantly surprised to see a White-tailed Kite perched on a bare tree not too far away. Knowing Kites to be extremely skittish, to say the least, we moved in slow-motion as we silently got out of the jeep and set-up our cameras. We were rewarded by some very nice photos of this beautiful bird of prey.

When we got back to the area next to restroom # 8. there were already several birders ogling the lovely bird and this time we got some good (but not great) photos of the bird.

A Painted Redstart to start the new year - a good portent of things to come, if you ask me.

The Spirit Soars

It was getting to be a ho-hum day of birding. The ponds at San Jacinto are still dry, parched by the still lingering summer. The excitement of seeing a barn owl in flight as we drove in slowly ebbed as the sun inched its way in the morning sky. 10 am and I told Cynthia that it was time to leave the wildlife reserve. On the way back I noticed something white glimmering in the air. "White-tailed Kites!", I yelled. I eased the jeep on the side of the road and immediately set-up my camera and tripod. Before us were three (!) kites doing their thing. Kites are hawklike birds that like to hover as they search for some unfortunate rodent in the grassy plain below. The challenge here was trying to focus on the bird while it was in its "hover" mode. It was not easy. I spent close to an hour and a hundred or so shots photographing the white aerialists.

Back home, out of those hundred or so shots I took, only one, it seemed to me, was in proper focus. I posted the picture in the Nature Photographers website soliciting their comments and critiques. Bob Steele (see my blog titled "Man of Steele"), one of the foremost bird photgraphers in the U.S. called it a "killer shot!" And that he was jealous of this photograph. Needless to say, it made my day. Heck, it made my month! Probably even my year!

A Fishy Story

We woke up late Saturday, Nov. 12th. It was one of those lazy, dazy, days of autumn. Not having a definite birding destination planned, we agreed to go to Sepulveda Basin Wildlife Reserve which is only about 25 miles away and always a sure place to see birds. Besides there had been sightings of a Blackburnian Warbler in its vicinity. That, of course, was incentive enough to visit the place.

We were just getting off the car when we saw the squadron-like formation of American White Pelicans slowly descending in the distance. We decided to carry both cameras; Cynthia handling the smaller and lighter 300mm lens while I lugged the humongous 500mm. When we reached the first lakeside lookout point, we witnessed the cooperative behavior of the White Pelicans. Several birds would herd the fish with a lot of wing beating and water splashing like a bunch of white clad cowboys. As soon as they have their quarry trapped between them, then the feeding frenzy begins. They were doing this at less than twenty feet away from the curious onlookers – birders, photographers (and a combination thereof), families with young kids, artists (there were a group of painters nearby who left their masterpieces just to witness the pelican’s behavior). Adding to this was an Osprey who did its own way of catching fish…flying about 50 feet above the waters and then suddenly swooping down and plunging into the lake, then rising up with an explosion of water oftentimes with a fish in its talons. All these commotion didn’t appear to bother the grebes and cormorants who just continued on with their respective businesses.

After a while we left to continue our search for the warbler. We did not have high expectations of seeing this bird because the directions given were not clear enough and a search party the day before did not find it either. Meandering along the trailway, we were surprised at the volume of people that we encountered. This must be “Take-your-child-birding” day. We met wave upon wave of adults guiding small children with tiny binoculars hanging from their cute little necks.

We eventually came into a place where there were no children (perhaps it was because the day was starting to heat up). We saw the usual suspects – birds that we see often enough. Cynthia practiced on her photographic style while I did some half-hearted shots. It was then that I witnessed something white on top of a leafless tree. It gleamed as the mid-morning sun shone upon its white feathers. I immediately looked at it through my binoculars and confirmed what I had hoped I would see – a White-tailed Kite! I pointed out the bird to Cynthia who wasted no time taking its picture. I, on the other hand, and with the stealth of a hungry tiger, inched closer while clicking away with my camera at my magnificent prey.

At about 50 feet away, the red eyes of the white raptor caught the movement of this strange object crouching in the tall grass and holding what looked like a big coffee can, and decided to fly away to an area devoid of weird creeping, hat-wearing creatures.

On the way back, although a bit anti-climactic, I got some good pictures of a friendly Western Kingbird. 

The Pelicans were still having a piscine party, the Osprey was still plunging into the water to catch its meal. Hmm, it is almost noon…fish seemed like a good idea for lunch.