Red-necked Phalarope Community Sighting

About the most fun I have had birding this year was a sighting of Red-necked Phalarope at Austin Springs, a local birding spot on the Watauga River in Johnson City, Tennessee.  It was a Monday afternoon, and I was at work when I received a call from a friend alerting me the bird had just been found.  Earlier that day three Snowy Egrets, which are rare in northeast Tennessee, had been reported at Austin Springs.  Tom McNeil and Cathy Myers went to see the Snowy Egrets, and Cathy noticed a small bird swimming erratically upriver from the bridge.  It turned out to be a Red-necked Phalarope, also rare in northeast Tennessee.  Word went out. 

By the time I got off work and out to Austin Springs bridge, all of the local birders had already left and apparently so had the phalarope.  As I was viewing the Snowy Egrets through my spotting scope, I saw my wife and daughter in the distance around the bend in the river.  They have a milk weed plot along the river that they monitor for Monarch butterflies.  As I was pleased to see them, I called them on their cellular phone.  My daughter answered and immediately asked, “Dad, where are you?  The whole bird club is over here looking at some bird.”  Needless to say, I rushed right over to find the local birding community enjoying the rare sight.  We celebrated with high-fives all around to the embarrassment of my daughter.  I am heartened that, although sometimes competitive, birding is not a zero-sum game. 

 

Another Red-necked Phalarope, AK, June 2013

The Tao of Birding

Remembering some embarrassingly public bird misidentifications brought to mind a Taoist tale reproduced in a JD Salinger story.  It is about a person who is so excellent a judge of the inward quality of horses that he loses sight of more obvious details such as color or sex.  With a little imagination it is easily adaptable to birding, although unfortunately I cannot blame my inability to distinguish species and plumage on attentiveness to the spiritual qualities:  

Duke Mu of Chin said to Po Lo: "You are now advanced in years. Is there any member of your family whom I could employ [as a bird guide] in your stead?" Po Lo replied: "A good [bird] can be picked out by its general build and appearance. But the superlative [bird] is something evanescent and fleeting, elusive as thin air. The talents of my sons lie on a lower plane altogether; they can tell a good [bird] when they see one, but they cannot tell a superlative [bird]. I have a friend, however, one Chiu-fang Kao, a [hawk watcher], who in things appertaining to [birds] is nowise my inferior. Pray see him." 

Duke Mu did so, and subsequently dispatched him on the quest for a [bird]. Three months later, he returned with the news that he had found one. "It is now in Shach'iu" he added. "What kind of [bird] is it?" asked the Duke. "Oh, it is a [basic-plumaged Dunlin]," was the reply. However, someone being sent to [confirm] it, the animal turned out to be a [breeding-plumaged Curlew Sandpiper]! Much displeased, the Duke sent for Po Lo. "That friend of yours," he said, "whom I commissioned to look for a [bird], has made a fine mess of it. Why, he cannot even distinguish [species or plumage]! What on earth can he know about [birds]?" Po Lo heaved a sigh of satisfaction. "Has he really got as far as that?" he cried. "Ah, then he is worth ten thousand of me put together. There is no comparison between us. What Kao keeps in view is the spiritual mechanism. In making sure of the essential, he forgets the homely details; intent on the inward qualities, he loses sight of the external. He sees what he wants to see, and not what he does not want to see. He looks at the things he ought to look at, and neglects those that need not be looked at. So clever a judge of [birds] is Kao, that he has it in him to judge something better than [birds]." 

When the [sighting was confirmed], it turned out indeed to be a superlative animal. 

-Adapted from “Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters” by JD Salinger

Birding in Anchorage

June 1, 2013 - Anchorage, AK

I had the opportunity to bird with good friend Joe McLaughlin (left), who had just broken his nose kayaking, his partner Kim (center right), and their friend and renowned Alaskan birder Dave Sonneborn (right).  Ashley (center left), a birder from North Carolina, joined us.  I had met Dave on a pelagic trip out of Hatteras, North Carolina the previous spring and discovered he knew Joe.  On the choppy ride out to the Gulf Stream, we discussed all getting together to do some birding if I made it up to Anchorage.  It sounded too good to pass up so I started saving up Alaskan Airline mileage points. 

As one of the birds I was looking for was American Three-toed Woodpecker, we headed to Hillside Park straight from the airport.  After finding some nice local species - Olive-sided Flycatcher, Gray Jay, Townsend's Warbler, and a North American Porcupine, we decided to call it an evening.  Luckily for me, back at the cars Joe suggested one last loop around the trails.  Just a short distance from the parking lot we were startled by a loud drumming directly above us and looked up to great views of a male American Three-toed Woodpecker on territory.  

The next morning we woke up to light rain.  We had agreed to get back together for some more birding.  Dave had a special guest in town who happened to be looking to photograph a Three-toed Woodpecker.  Sandy Komito, 2-time big year record holder, was working on his photo life list - trying to photograph as many of the species of birds that occur in North America as possible.  Unfortunately, we could not reproduce the magic of the previous evening, but we enjoyed the company.  

Birding in the rain always reminds me of a Zen dialogue between a student and master I once read:

Student:  How is it when you are far, far on the one road [your life list]?
Master:  Not going [birding] while the sun is out, waiting for the rain to soak your head.