bird data > past walk reports

6/25/12

There is a notion in some quarters that numbers are important. They can be vital but it is easy to grant them too much credence in a bird walk. I tend to think of them as cute little morsels that make for convenient writing but they are not at the heart of the walk. They are just a convenience. Nevertheless, I must admit this to be a walk of great convenience. We had no idea what the week's record was. If I had been pressed, I would probably have suggested a number in the low twenties but week 26 is the beginning of the summer slump when you have to work for your birds and adjust to lowered expectations. Still, one must always keep in mind the temporal context. The previous record for week 26 was only 17 and, even with our newly minted record of 19, we won't see 20 species on a single walk again until week 34, unless we happen to set a startling new record against the tide. The record for next week is 18 but then it drops to 15 the following week. So, why bother going on a walk in July and August. The simple answer is that numbers aren't everything.

http://birdwalks.caltech.edu/bird_data/species_time.html and http://birdwalks.caltech.edu/bird_data/two_plots.htm

This week, we were off to a flying start. We saw two rock pigeons flying quickly down California Blvd. from our initial starting place for the walk. That's two weeks in a row for these guys. I don't think any of us saw a mockingbird but we did hear one and it provided an interesting manifestation of differential hearing prowess. We are on the driveway between Tournament Park and Wilson, not far from Morrisroe, when Viveca suddenly announces that she hears a mockingbird. Now, none of the rest of us hears anything but the odd street noise and my pencil, silent to the song, holds in abeyance until, several paces later, Melanie hears the unmistakable trilling repetition of a mockingbird. A couple of steps later, Vicky hears it, and finally, even I could I hear it. It would have been interesting to place Alan in this sequence but he was off on one of his conference jaunts.

Ravens provided one highlight for the walk. As we come up to Braun, we see three ravens on the roof, one adult and two significantly smaller juveniles (so small, we thought they might be crows at first glance). The adult leaves the juveniles at the crest of the roof, hops over to the edge, leans over, and probes within a crevice above an end-tile. A couple of seconds later he/she pulls out a sparrow nestling, hops back up to the crest of the roof, pummels the unfortunate sparrow, and then feeds a begging youngster (as an aside, if you get a chance to see down a raven's throat and it's red, you have a juvenile - the throat gets bluer with age). It was fascinating in a gruesome sort of way.

I would say that red-masked parakeets made the bird of the week. This was a classic example of visual pattern recognition. The parakeets were quiet and hanging out in a street tree next to Morrisroe. Each of us walks under them until Viveca stops short and, realizing that there is a bird to be had, announces that she has some parrots or parakeets. These soon became red-masked parakeets but they left me with a nagging question, which is the actual highlight. Why are parakeets green? Birds aren't plants, so there is no chorophyl game to parlay into green. Is it some sort of pigment? Are these birds playing light scattering experiments for our benefit?

The starting point for bird colors is in pigment. These are like paint, absorbing some wavelengths of light and reflecting others (the ones you see). They are mostly melanins (black to brown) and carotenoids of various types, which are used to make those over the top reds and yellows. Now, turacos, which are from sub-Saharan Africa, do use green pigments to generate a green color (google "livingstone's turaco images" for a look) but the vast majority of greens in the avian world are not caused by the use of a green pigment. So, I address this in a round about way that begins with a riddle: What can you do with a blue feather from a scrub jay, a green feather from a parrot (or parakeet), a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and a ten year old with a hammer? I did not have a ten year old handy but I did have blue and green feathers and alcohol (ideally, you would have a red and/or a flamboyantly yellow feather, too but I didn't have one). I filled an egg cup with the alcohol and slid each feather into the cup so that about half of the feather was soaking and the other half dry. I checked after an hour and the scrub jay feather had become a dull brown where it had been soaked in alcohol. The green of the parrot feather was still there but a lot of brown was showing and the remaining green was more of a yellowish olive green than the bright green it started with. After several hours, the parrot feather was still showing hints of yellowish green near the edges but the bulk of what had started out as a solid green was now a solid brown. I declare victory. I have succeeded in changing the color of a feather. I didn't try a red feather because I didn't have one but I will assert that this exercise would not have impacted the red color, except, perhaps to brighten it up a bit because you are cleaning off some dust. So, what have we learned? Alcohol takes out the blues and bright greens, leaving brown to a yellowish olivine green. I will assert without proof that a bright yellow or red feather would have ignored the alcohol. Now, take the feather out and let the alcohol evaporate. Soon, the blue is back. The green is back. The red, if you have it, stays put. We have a reversal. Now, we are ready for your ten year-old with the hammer. Let him/her hammer half of the scrub jay feather. The blue will go away and nothing you can do will put humpty dumpty back together again. I confess that I didn't try this since I didn't want to sacrifice my only scrub jay feather. Besides, I didn't have the critical ten-year old. So what happened?

We have to start with the blue. The basic coloring agent for any bird feather is melanin, which gives you a dark undertone that leads to browns and blacks if nothing else is done. For scrub jays, the feather barbs contain an outer colorless layer, which is underlain by a suite of cells that have air pockets ranging anywhere from 30 to 300 nanometers across, below which you have a dark layer. The key here is that the air pockets are really tiny, less than the wavelength of visible light, which is between 400 (violet) and 750 (red) nanometers. Tiny air pockets can scatter light and, if the dark layer underneath absorbs everything except the light that was scattered, you end up with a blue. If you fill up the air pockets with alcohol, you no longer have scattering because the air pockets are no longer operative and you see just the dark layer underneath, which absorbs most colors. Since, the alcohol masked but did not destroy the scattering entities, the blue comes back as soon as the alcohol leaves. On the other hand, if your ten-year old smashed those air pockets with his hammer, the scattering centers were destroyed and the blue will go away. Now, what I just gave you is what you might call the standard model for blue feathers. Recently, there has been work suggesting that scattering can't be the whole answer because a basic prediction you get relating intensity of scattering and wavelength of the incident light is not being met. You should look up papers by Prum and coworkers if you'd like to pursue it. According to Prum and friends, the blues are instead caused by another color generating phenomenon referred to as interference, which would work if a set of uniformly spaced, uniformly sized air pockets were present. This proposition seems to have taken the avian research world by storm but, as Kurt Nassau in his book "Physics and Chemistry of Color" says, "One does wonder why these blues are not iridescent" (I'll let you look that term up). There's something not quite right with Prum's model but, there is also something wrong with the standard scattering explanation, so I don't think we have a definitive answer, yet. Ok. Let's accept that the blue color of a jay's feather is caused by an interaction between scattering (or interference) of air pockets and absorption by the dark layer. What about the green feather of a parakeet? Here, we add one more wrinkle and place a layer above the dark layer that contains a yellow pigment. The yellow pigment absorbs most wavelengths of light but it reflects yellow. Mix yellow with blue and, voila! We have green! We have our parakeet!

The date: 6/25/2012
The week number: 26
The walk number: 1149
The weather: 79 F, full sun

The walkers: John Beckett, Melanie Channon, Vicky Brennan, Viveca Sapin-Areeda

The birds (19):

Rock pigeon
Northern Mockingbird
House Sparrow
Mourning Dove
House Finch
American Crow
European starling
Black Phoebe
Cooper's Hawk
Spotted Towhee
Swift, species
Nuttall's Woodpecker
Red-whiskered Bulbul
Hummingbird, Selasphorus
Lesser Goldfinch
Red-masked Parakeet
Bushtit
Common Raven
Northern Rough-winged Swallow

--- John Beckett

Respectfully submitted,
Alan Cummings
7/5/12

http://birdwalks.caltech.edu/index.html






6/18/12

Beginnings can be endings. On my way to the starting point for the walk, I generally pause on the walkway above the Throop ponds and glance down to see if a mallard is in residence. This time, Melanie happens to accompany me and we get the mallard but she then hears a bird whose song she doesn't recognize. I am, of course suspicious. Melanie has great ears and I know who it is that sings here in the morning and in the afternoon. I can not hear him unless he is quite close (I have heard him a couple of times) but I still know him well. I am a bit torn between chasing down a lead and leaving but I know the reality is that I have to ignore Melanie's bird. In Alan's absence, I am "leading" the walk, by which I mean I carry the scepters of office, Alan's bird listing pad, a Sibley and keys to the Maintenance yard. So, we reluctantly turn away from the ponds and head towards the starting point on the other side of California. Luck is with us, however. Near Millikan's head, we run into Vicky and find that she has also been hearing something lyrical. Well, now, we really need to get to the bottom of this. Vicky offers to go warn Viveca, who we could see, and anyone else who happened to be waiting that the keys and I will be a couple of minutes late. Melanie and I head back to the ponds. I suggest that she dial up a common yellowthroat on her phone and, upon listening to it, she says "That's it!" Now, for a visual. We see a bird out of the corners of our eyes pop into the camellias next to Guggenheim but the look is very bad. However, I see him pop out and briefly skirt by an agapanthus. Melanie misses him but, between her aural and my visual, we have a very solid id and the inversion of a bird that often ends the walk. We begin. In the end, we had 23 species to keep the common yellowthroat company for a total of 24 species, a new record for week 25, eclipsing the previous record of 21 with nothing but net.

http://birdwalks.caltech.edu/bird_data/species_time.html and http://birdwalks.caltech.edu/bird_data/two_plots.htm

Desert gods are the hardest. They howl into a hot wind and come closest only in the emptiness of something vast, whether it be a crease of your mind or buried in the hollows of a shifting dune. These are gods of different names. They hover over sacred places and, even dead, they leave the harshest shards. That's what I felt as we came into the Maintenance yard. We were standing before the house of an old god. In 2002, a set of Caltech walkers, including Alan, stood in this place, held in the vision of the only owl to ever be reported on the Caltech bird walk. Now, we are in the nave and stand before a few rude pipes, broken from the hollowed bones of Amiens. Owl tree is a shattered dream. It lost a central trunk in the great wind storm but there were still twin towers spiraled in green. In a few years, they would have covered the gap but, this week, we are confronted by a ten foot stump. There is no green and there is no owl tree.

The Maintenance yard was a challenge because the little wheel loader was active and noisy but we still picked up a spotted towhee and a Bewick's wren (another excellent use of Melanie's phone) by sound. I can also report an active collection of common orb weavers in Alan's jungle. Alan has a sense of pace that is faster than mine and, when he is absent, the walk tends to be a little slower. This was no exception. We were slow, so slow that we barely made it out of Tournament Park before Vicky had to leave (Vicky is on a timer). It was also a luxuriating walk and that, I think, contributed to our extravagant species total. We think we may be hearing a house wren from the back end of Tournament Park but we aren't sure. If you are in a hurry, you move on or send out a scouting party. Instead, we all turn back to check it out. A hundred feet closer and it is an unchallenged, unmistakable, clarion song, even to me. House wren.

There were black phoebes everywhere. Upon fledging, the male takes the juveniles out for on-the-job training for a few days and you will often see several of these birds together at this time of year. Only one of them will be competent. Dad flies over to the thin shaft of a weed. Normally, he wouldn't use this because there are better perches nearby but it is important to show what is possible. He lands perfectly. The stalk is motionless. He stays for a few seconds to demonstrate that this is a viable observation perch and then flies over to a tree. Each of his children gives it a try and fails miserably, the stalk whipping each time in a flurry of wings. But they now know that it can be done and, in a month or two, each of the survivors will be able to pull off a similar maneuver, flawlessly. The school moves on to more solid perches and concentrates on flying insects.

The black-chinned hummingbird was still pretty on her nest but I'm pretty sure that I would get general agreement that she was not the most intriguing sighting of the day. We come up to the corner of California and Wilson and Viveca sees what she initially thinks are band-tailed pigeons but, wonder of wonders, we actually have a pair of rock pigeons perched on a light stanchion. We last saw a rock pigeon in February and we now have three sightings for the year, half of number we had by this time last year and a pale shadow of the 20+ sightings buy week 25 that would have been typical of the 90s. We also picked up a band-tailed pigeon later in the walk, presenting us with our first triple dove/pigeon day since last November. Things must be looking up if we are seeing rock pigeons.

I must, of course, mention Melanie's new life bird. On Wilson, there is a small group of northern rough wing swallows that tends to hang out near the solar panels on the Wilson Parking structure during the early part of the summer. I assume they are nesting somewhere in the rafters but I've never tried to track down exactly where. This time, they are foraging over the field in front of Beckman, giving a nice demonstration of swallow flying technique, and giving Melanie her 92nd bird. A hundred birds is a key marker in the life of a birder. Provided you can confidently identify a decent fraction of those species, it indicates that you are beginning to have a mastery of the common to less common members of your local avian population and you are serious enough to be looking for further mastery. It is an easing from the duffer world. As for Melanie, I expect that the first hundred will not be the last.

The date: 6/18/2012
The week number: 25
The walk number: 1148
The weather: 77°F, hazy sun

The walkers: John Beckett, Melanie Channon, Vicky Brennan, Viveca Sapin-Areeda

The birds (24):

House Sparrow
Mourning Dove
House Finch
Anna's Hummingbird
American Crow
White-throated Swift
Black Phoebe
Mallard
Common Yellowthroat
Common Raven
Hummingbird, Selaphorus
Bewick's Wren
Spotted Towhee
Red-whiskered Bulbul
House Wren
Nuttall's Woodpecker
Bushtit
Lesser Goldfinch
Cooper's Hawk
Rock Pigeon
Northern Rough-winged Swallow
Yellow-chevroned Parakeet
Band-tailed Pigeon
Black-chinned Hummingbird

--- John Beckett

Respectfully submitted,
Alan Cummings
6/29/12

http://birdwalks.caltech.edu/index.html






6/11/12

The walk has a sensibility about it and a seeming memory as if there were souls drifting through time. They are running on the tide; even former Is are running on the tide and when we flow through a narrowing tree, I catch glimpses in the corner of my eye. We see a Cassin's vireo in an oak on Wilson but a bushtit now hops into double exposure, Vicky's call. He has a moth in his beak, still squirming for purchase. Both are all calling. Both are gone. All three are here even though at least one of them is dead.

This was a walk of almost. We came in with a final total of 20 species, thanks to a couple of white-throated swifts swirling around the library at the end of the walk. They left us just below the current record of 21 for week 24; we would have had a tie but for our common yellowthroat developing a sudden case of shy retirement. He has been a quite reliable responder to Alan's app but not this week.

http://birdwalks.caltech.edu/bird_data/species_time.html and http://birdwalks.caltech.edu/bird_data/two_plots.htm

We had no unexpected or excessively rare birds for this time of year, unless you want to count our nesting black-chinned hummingbird just on general principle but we did very well with those birds we could reasonably expect, except for raptors. A cloudless sunny day did not translate into any hawks and, given that our best hawk spotter, Viveca, was on the walk, I take that to mean there weren't any up there for us to see. We saw no turkey vultures, even though we have been seeing them lately and, at least so far, we have no summer Cooper's hawks to report. The red-shouldered hawks who were courting over Tournament Park earlier this Spring, apparently decided to nest elsewhere. Maybe that's one of the reasons we have been doing so well with preyable birds.

Other than our seeing that bushtit with a moth across the street from Morrisroe, which I alluded to above, I would say the unexpected highlight was to be found in the Maintenance yard. Both Vicky and Viveca are hearing something nebulous in the corner oak next to where the cargo containers used to be (it looks like the Childcare center is really going to be happening). It was a curious sound and repetitious enough to draw all of us (I by hearsay). Eventually, we notice two birds and, finally, Alan catches enough of a visual to call a pair of orange-crowned warblers. One of them was a recently fledged juvenile begging (complete with wing shiver) and the other an adult. This seems pretty clear evidence that we have a resident breeding population of orange- crowned warblers around the Maintenance yard (i.e., not all of the southern California wintering orange-crowned warblers end up going to Alaska). Technically, orange-crowned warblers are resident in LA county but our usual summer orange-crowned warblers are from the Channel Islands and post-breeding, so there is little if any singing for them and no sex. We (mostly Darren) have been hearing a lot of singing over the last month. Perhaps, this is the beginning of a year-round residency encompassing the campus.

The male common yellowthroat is always a highlight when we see him but he wasn't in a social mood this time and we missed the pleasure. There was, however, an expected highlight as we came up to the agapanthus patch outside the Central Engineering building. We see the black- chinned hummingbird nest but it isn't occupied. This could be depressing. What happened? Did we have a failed brood? The answer, with a little patience, buzzes over to a branch in the sunlight by the wall. She perches there for a minute or so, providing an excellent view (you could see the flecks on her throat) and, then, it was one of those highlight moments. She stretches out one of her wings. She is showing mauve to the passing sun and creating an enthralling sense of beauty. Finally, duty calls. She pops over to an agapanthus blossom for a sip and then flies over to her nest where she settles in. Mom is back. Generally, you can expect a female black-chinned to spend about a quarter of her time off nest during incubation, so our finding her missing on our arrival was not out of the ordinary. Once the eggs (almost always two) hatch, she will drop nest sitting down to half or less of her time, and then give it up entirely about nine days after hatching. If we want a continuous collection of black-chinned hummingbird sightings for the next few weeks, we will need to exercise ever greater degrees of patience until the nestlings are big enough to poke the odd beak up above the rim of the nest. If you look at a histogram of black-chinned hummingbird sightings on the Caltech walk, you can talk yourself into three peaks. The first, between weeks 15 and 20 is a skewed distribution falling off sharply from a peak at week 19. This likely reflects the Spring migration, with males generally making up the earlier sightings (they go first to establish territories) and the females for a given breeding area passing by a week or so after the males. There is a mostly broad central peak of sightings between weeks 22 and 27 that is likely composed of late migrators and locally breeding females. For the females who stay, it's two weeks of incubation, three weeks of nestlings in and on the nest and another week or so of fledglings hanging out in the general vicinity of the nest, still being fed periodically be their mother. We've had three years (2007, 2008, and 2012) in which we apparently or demonstrably had a locally breeding female whose territory intersected the path of our walk. A third regime of sightings has a sharp peak centered on week 31 (early/mid-August) with scattered sightings extending well into September. This is associated with the Fall migration. Males again lead the way and females and juveniles take their own good time, as they should.

Alan won't be able to make it for the next couple of weeks due to dueling conferences and, since Alan runs the web site, you can expect some delays in posting although all reports will make it up eventually. So, if you've been dancing around the edges of thinking about perhaps maybe trying a walk, this would be a good time to transform a nascent fantasy into reality. We could use the company.

I decided a long time ago not to pursue creative writing because I didn't think I had a talent for writing fiction and I didn't want to be a journalist (it didn't occur to me at the time that one might be able to make a living writing nonfiction). Nevertheless, I am planning a foray into the world of investigative journalism. A coming bird of the week is likely to be from outside the city limits of Pasadena based on interviewing a primary source (fair warning, Alan!). I know the core of some internet sites to be composed of little more than travelogues from members' out of area experiences with the remaining dribbles essentially consisting of a calendar of future local birding walks. It is as if there were an insecurity in what they can see with a short drive or walk and a comfort in what you can not see. To me, off walk walks are condiments. They can spice up a meal but they should be left to the odd child's albatross. The main course should be every bird. Every bird, no matter how apparently mundane, holds an interesting story and, if you watch and listen, the bird will tell you what it is. The story will be a different one tomorrow.

The date: 6/11/2012
The week number: 24
The walk number: 1147
The weather: 76F, sunny

The walkers: Alan Cummings, Viveca Sapin-Areeda, John Beckett, Vicky Brennan

The birds (20):

Northern Mockingbird
House Sparrow
Mourning Dove
House Finch
Anna's Hummingbird
American Crow
Common Raven
European Starling
Mallard
Lesser Goldfinch
Black Phoebe
Spotted Towhee
Orange-crowned Warbler
Nuttall's Woodpecker
House Wren
Hummingbird, Selasphorus
Bushtit
Red-masked Parakeet
Black-chinned Hummingbird
White-throated Swift

--- John Beckett

Respectfully submitted,
Alan Cummings
6/15/12

http://birdwalks.caltech.edu/index.html






6/4/12

We were off to an excellent start. Kent comes in with a duck and, then, Darren and Kent disappear for a while but return with an orange-crowned warbler. The Maintenance yard yields a couple of good looks at some red-masked parakeets, a very quick look at a couple northern rough-winged swallows, which is a fairly rare bird for us (only 15 sightings all time, so far, although most of the somewhat more common "swallow species" are likely to have been northern rough-wings). Even better, we also seemed to be nailing almost all of the not always common common residents with the notable exception of acorn woodpeckers. As is often the case when times are good, however, a gray seam appears like a clumsy foot stumbling over an unseen stone. We have 16 species as we are about to enter Tournament Park and Alan bursts out with a bald faced assertion that we were "heading for a record", the current record for the week being a mere 19. I smelled a bad case of hubris and felt like somebody on my baseball team had just walked over to a pitcher throwing a no-hitter into the eighth inning and tried to talk to him. This just isn't done. The walk was now jinxed and we were going to be lucky if we picked up another two species and those just as a tease. My fears were confirmed. Tournament Park was not initially productive and it looked like we might be doing a walk for the walk and not for the numbers. "So," you might reasonably ask, "how did we do in the end? ok?" Yes. "Better than ok?" Yes. I think I can agree with that we ended up doing better than ok and that my fears of a jinx were, in the end, overblown. "Much better than ok?" Certainly. "Extraordinarily beyond ok?" Yes. "Arguably, the best walk of all time?" Absolutely! We took home 27 species, a full third beyond the previous record of 19 and nearly double the median of 14. Congratulations all around!

See the plots at http://birdwalks.caltech.edu/bird_data/species_time.html and http://birdwalks.caltech.edu/bird_data/two_plots.htm

Now, some of you may be jaded by memories of 30+ species walks in the Spring and know that the all-time record number of species on a walk is 37, ten species beyond what we saw this week. So, how is it that I can claim greatness in the thralldom of those kinds of numbers? The answer lies in context. A great walk can be the memory of a single glance or a singular species but what makes a walk extraordinary in terms of sheer numbers of species is how it stacks up against the results of its peers, those walks conducted in the same week in other years. Alan computes a score for each walk defined by the number of standard deviations that a species total lies above the mean for all walks conducted during that same week since 1986, when Alan started the Caltech bird walk. I'm sure that some comprehensive larded gobbeldygook statistical analysis could be concocted that would be "better" but it wouldn't be. Alan's metric captures the flavor of greatness in a very simple way. What's the record score? It's 3.233, which you will perhaps not be surprised to learn, was the week 13 bird walk from last year that still holds the record for total number of species (37). And how did we do this week? Compute the score and you get 3.332. We have a new champion. This was the highest scoring Caltech bird walk, EVER!

In spite of all the accolades I described above, deserved though they be, you can feel migration in its presence and in its absence. We have favored species, like kinglets and yellow-rumped warblers, that won't be seen again until the Fall and others we will be lucky to see but, if we do, it will be on migration. These birds have passed us by and are breeding to the north or in the desert, or up in the mountains. They are somewhere else. It is important, however, not to forget that we have our own collection of permanent residents and summer visitors and they are very busy. This is breeding season and you see it in courtship and nesting. You see it in territorial disputes and begging juveniles. This week, we spent several minutes staring at the Nuttall's nesting hole south of the driveway connecting Tournament Park to Wilson. A couple of weeks ago, we saw both adults pop into this hole but this time we didn't luck into any visitations (it would have given us 28 species for the walk and an even higher score but c'est la vie). We also saw a bushtit nest in an oak along Wilson (the northernmost mature oak south of California if you are interested in checking it out). We had seen this nest previously but it's a very good example worthy of a second look, independent of any activity that may or may not be going on inside. Bushtits have tube shaped nests constructed from spider web and other flotsam, so that the lining is whitish. In my experience, they are usually lined in the interior with feathers on the bottom (plugging any holes with insulation), and decorated on the outside with debris from the host tree or bush. We didn't see any activity in the host tree, although bushtits were scattered all along Wilson, so maybe the parents were out foraging, or, perhaps, the young have already fledged. We saw a third nest on Wilson at the top of Braun. This wasn't as visually compelling as the bushtit nest because the house sparrow nest is tucked out of sight in the crevice formed by a gap in one of the roof tiles but, now that we know where it is, we may find this species a somewhat easier capture for the next few weeks. We encountered a fourth nest on Avery. This one consisted of adobe braced against a pipe near the feeder above the driveway. Black phoebes have been reliable residents near Avery for the last couple of years, so it was pretty clear that we had at least a pair of them actively nesting in the immediate vicinity. This year we know where to look. The female is, as of Thursday, still actively incubating her eggs (female black phoebes do all of the incubating but the male is a very active partner and keeps her well fed). The nest is quite close to a door, which tells you just how tolerant of human activity these birds are. At some point, black phoebes must have concluded that people were not black phoebe predators, whether adult or juvenile, but that they often provided good to excellent building sites. The rest is a pleasant history. I always find looking at occupied black phoebe nests to be a cheery interlude but we were, as the tale turns, not nested out. Our final and, I think, our best nest of the day was sighted on Holliston near the Central Engineering building. We see a female black-chinned hummingbird on a branch. Her long lithe body is the first thing you notice, then the lack of a vestigial throat patch, and the straight bill. We followed her flitting around, thinking that we had just acquired an excellent capture for so late in the walk and so late in the migration. However, she suddenly buzzes over to an interlocking set of leaves and settles into a small amber cone nestled between a pair of twigs. We have a black-chinned hummingbird nesting on campus! The male is long gone and our female will be handling all aspects of incubation, feeding, fledging, and preparation of her young for life. Most black-chins migrate past us heading north but a small fraction of the population nests in the San Gabriel Valley and, very occasionally, one will nest on or near campus, leading to a lot of sightings. 2007 and 2008, each with 10 black-chinned hummingbird sightings (seven sightings in eight weeks in 2007 and six in seven weeks in 2008), are the only years that we probably had a nesting bird. Excluding those anomalies leads to an average of one sighting a year since 1986 but, if our Holliston black-chinned succeeds, we are about to have a third most excellent black-chinned hummingbird year. Besides, she is seriously cute.

I suppose that I must propose a bird of the week. An easy case could be made for the black-chinned hummingbird. I think I will, however, opt for a couple of specks east of the Maintenance yard sighted by Viveca and heading at a very rapid clip to the west. By the time I got a glass on them, they were specks in the west and I could not have done better than the well-known "swallow species," although I would have argued against a bank swallow based on the fairly deliberate flight pattern. Darren, who was more attuned to Viveca's speck alerts, was able to get a much better look and his look gave us a legitimate northern rough-winged swallow. These birds have not been well studied (in case you are wondering, southern rough-winged swallows don't get any further north than Panama and were not an officially separate species until 1983) and I suspect, but I can not prove, a composting of intellectual laziness and misplaced aesthetic sensibility. Tree, cliff, and barn swallows are prettier. Bank swallows, which are fairly well studied, like to nest and roost communally. Decide to study a few hundred breeding pairs of bank swallows and you may only have to find one colony. Decide to study a comparable number of northern rough-winged swallows and you will have to work a lot harder, although you will often have a few northern rough-winged swallows near the outskirts of a bank swallow colony, presumably because bank swallows actually dig their own burrows but don't use all of them. Northern rough-winged swallows are opportunists when it comes to nesting sites with holes in banks, crevices in cliffs, drainage pipes under overpasses or bridges, all providing acceptable sites (i.e., I'm not going to build my own burrow but I'm pretty flexible about the hole someone may have dug for me). Roosting sites may or may not be communal. This is not a case of not liking any neighbors; you will sometimes find northern rough-winged swallows mixed in with bank swallows and not infrequently near other northern rough-winged swallows, especially during migration. It's just that northern rough-winged swallows don't specifically seek out a crowd. That's my kind of society. For us, northern rough-winged swallows are strictly breeding birds of the summer, although that appears to changing (as the decades go), as they are expanding their wintering range northward. Most of them still winter in Central America but you can already see them reliably in winter near the Mexican border. We may be up next.

The date: 6/4/2012
The week number: 23
The walk number: 1146
The weather: 70°F, cloudy

The walkers: Alan Cummings, Kent Potter, Viveca Sapin-Areeda, John Beckett, Darren Dowell, Vicky Brennan

The birds (27):

Scrub Jay
Northern Mockingbird
House Sparrow
Mourning Dove
House Finch
Anna's Hummingbird
American Crow
Mallard
Common Raven
Lesser Goldfinch
Black Phoebe
Orange-crowned Warbler
Red-masked Parakeet
Spotted Towhee
Northern Rough-winged Swallow
European Starling
House Wren
Band-tailed Pigeon
Bewick's Wren
Bushtit
White-throated Swift
Yellow-chevroned Parakeet
Hummingbird, Selaphorus
Turkey Vulture
Black-chinned Hummingbird
Common Yellowthroat
Red-whiskered Bulbul

--- John Beckett

Respectfully submitted,
Alan Cummings
6/8/12
http://birdwalks.caltech.edu/index.html






current walk report / two time plots / probability plots / raw data