My Small Year

Red-winged Blackbird IllustrationThis is my second ‘official’ year as a birder of sorts. Actually, I’ve been casually watching birds for years but somehow never worked up the enthusiasm to bother identifying the various species I didn’t recognize. It was a lazy enjoyment without any sort of catalogue or accounting. All of this changed, however, after I chanced upon iBird, a smartphone app that makes identifying birds a fairly simple task. After successfully using the app to identify an American Dipper that was feeding along the shore of Rolley Lake as my wife and I walked by, I was hooked.

After I installed iBird on my phone, I created a list of all the birds I was certain I’d seen in the recent past by marking them as favourites in the app. This list was quite small as I didn’t want to record any species that I might have mistaken with another in the days when I wasn’t concerned with such details. For that reason, I left most of the various waterfowl, shore, and seabird species off of my list despite having seen a great number of them in the past. This was my initial list:

American Robin
Anna’s Hummingbird
Bald Eagle
Barn Swallow
Black-capped Chickadee
Brown-headed Cowbird
Bushtit
Canada Goose
Chestnut-backed Chickadee
Common Loon
Common Raven
Cooper’s Hawk
Dark-eyed Junco
European Starling
Glaucous-winged Gull
Gray Jay (Whiskey Jack)
Great Blue Heron
Hermit Thrush
House Finch
Mallard
Northern Flicker
Northwestern Crow
Osprey
Red-tailed Hawk
Red-winged Blackbird
Rock Pigeon
Ruffed Grouse
Rufous Hummingbird
Sooty Grouse
Spruce Grouse
Steller’s Jay
Trumpeter Swan
Varied Thrush

Then, I started keeping an eye out for new birds while out and about. I came across a few birds that I wasn’t able to identify, like the owl, I assume, that flew overhead and vanished among the trees before the synapses in my brain could even light up with owly thoughts. Despite my sluggish synapses, however, I identified and added the following twenty-nine slower moving species to the list:

American Dipper
American Wigeon
Belted Kingfisher
Bewick’s Wren
Brown Creeper
Common Merganser
Common Yellowthroat
Downy Woodpecker
Golden-crowned Kinglet
Golden-crowned Sparrow
Hooded Merganser
House Sparrow
Lesser Goldfinch
Lesser Scaup
Mourning Dove
Northern Pintail
Northern Shoveler
Pacific-slope Flycatcher
Pileated Woodpecker
Purple Finch
Red-breasted Nuthatch
Ring-necked Pheasant
Snow Goose
Song Sparrow
Spotted Towhee
Swainson’s Thrush
White-crowned Sparrow
Wilson’s Warbler
Winter Wren

Still, even with these new additions, it remains a fairly short list. That’s okay. I really don’t want to become an obsessed birder travelling all over the country in search of birds and bragging rights. In fact, I’ve recently discovered and am quite taken with the idea of green birding. These birders focus on the birds they can find within the self-powered reach of their own homes or workplaces. I’ll admit the notion wouldn’t be too much of a hardship on me as I am fortunate to live within walking distance of Burns Bog, but the idea would fit nicely into what I’m already trying to do in terms of weighing the environmental impact of all my actions and, consequently, pursuing only my deepest of interests.

Backcountry Bear Basics

Bear Book Cover ImageHey Joe!
I read Backcountry Bear Basics, by Dave Smith, last summer and definitely recommend it if you spend time in bear country.
I thought I was fairly bear aware, but this book certainly opened my eyes to a number of misconceptions I had about bear behaviour and how one should best handle an encounter with one.
Smith debunks many of the common myths about grizzlies and black bears and offers sound advice on how to best store food, choose a safe campsite, and avoid encounters with bears in the first place. There is also specific advice for various recreational pursuits.
Along the way, he explains how to distinguish between grizzly and black bears, but it’s not always easy to do. If you’d like to practice your bear identification skills, the state of Montana offers free online training and self-testing that’s pretty good. Click here to try it out.

Grousing


I left the house very early last Wednesday and drove for two and a half hours in the dark only to be turned back by the mess above. Thus my grouse hunting season ends not with a bang but with a mucky gurgle. I’ve had my Chevy Venture van in some fairly challenging spots and I consider it a point of pride that it has likely seen more off-road than 99% of the shiny 4x4s that parade about my neighbourhood, but amphibious it is not. Normally, this stretch of logging road is in excellent condition, so I was a little surprised and very disappointed to find myself blocked from my favourite grouse trails by deep mud and a lake. Now, with only 12 days left in the season, all I can do is clean my shotgun and begin the long, hard wait for next September.

Season’s Greetings!

Towhee in Santa HatThanks to all of those who followed my blog this year. I’ve enjoyed your comments, tweets and emails. I hope you have a great holiday season. Cheers!

A Spotted Towhee

I had a chat with this young fellow the other day and he let me take photos while we talked. I’ve been trying to get decent pictures of his parents for quite sometime but haven’t been able to get close enough as they’re awfully wary. Thankfully this one decided, for reasons still unknown, that I was harmless. He said he might bring the family around one day to meet me. That would be nice.

Out exploring …

On Sunday, my wife and I took the dog and went off to explore an area we’d never been in before. It was a beautiful day with lots of sun, a slight chill in the wind, and bright fall colours. Driving along the coast on the way up, we oohed and aahed at the scenery like a couple of tourists despite both of us having been born and raised in B.C. and having seen such sights many times before. I suppose it’s a degree of geographical beauty that’s impossible to become desensitized to. We were also pretty drunk on sunshine.

You can click on any of these images to view a larger version.

“Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.” ~ Albert Camus
It was fortunate that our surroundings were so stunning because the lack of wildlife about was a bit disappointing. We saw only this little peek-a-boo master, a large garter snake, a few woodpeckers, and several thrushes of the varied persuasion. Unfortunately, the one and only Ruffed Grouse we flushed out of hiding was on the drive out. Our cold, wet spring seems to have really done a number on them.

Great place for a picnic if you’re okay with a wet bottom. This, and the next two photos, were taken along an interesting trail through the forest that connected a couple of different areas I wanted to have a look at.
Overkill: You can’t see it in this photo but there’s a little creek that runs beneath this giant log bridge.

Too Early In September

I haven’t felt like blogging in quite awhile, but I’m getting a ton of reader pressure to put up the photos from my first three grouse adventures of the season. Okay, perhaps it was just one chap leaving a casual remark on my Facebook page that I ought to, but we’ll take whatever enthusiasm we can find. With the leaves still on the trees and undergrowth, it was a bit of wishful thinking on my part to be out grouse hunting so early in the season, but, as you’ll see, I still managed to find a few birds and experience some beautiful places.

This first one is from my first trip. The forecast called for occasional light drizzle, but I was eager to start the season. So I threw my rain jacket in my pack, and the dog and I headed for the hills. The rain jacket wasn’t nearly enough in the torrential downpour that ensued, and with the wet, dense vegetation I was quickly soaked all the way through. So was the dog. It was the first time I had explored this particular area and I climbed about 539 metres in elevation over 4.75 kilometres before turning around and coming back down completely demoralized. It was exhausting and I saw no birds. All I got for my effort were six blisters on my feet and a wet dog who was limping almost as badly as I was. It was a rough and ruff-less day.

The above two are from my second trip, which was a much better day. This little creek ran along much of the route I was on and these photos just don’t do its beauty justice. There were a number of places where the creek flowed shallowly across massive slabs of smooth, near level rock and it was breathtaking. I always find it a bit of a wonder that I can end up in such a beautiful place and have it all to myself for a spell. On the way to this spot, the dog flushed two grouse, both of which I missed. Actually, I think I hit the second, but neither the dog or I could find it in the thick bush.

The two photos above were taken not far from the two that preceded them. This is where we stopped for lunch after having walked in about 6 kilometres. After lunch, we headed back and were walking into the wind when a young black bear came around the corner of the narrow path we were on. He was about 9 metres away when we all spotted each other and collectively froze in our tracks. I reached down and slipped the safety off my bear spray while the bear just stared at me motionlessly. Once the safety was off, I said, “Hey Joe” in a low and surprisingly calm voice. Joe wasn’t up for conversation, however, and rudely bolted over the edge of the hill and disappeared, crashing wildly, into the bush. That’s the closest I’ve been in the wild. Oddly, I felt no fear. It felt more surreal than anything, but I may have been more nervous had I known at the time that my bear spray had expired last year. Twenty minutes later, the dog put up a thunder of five or six grouse and, with all the ineptitude I could muster, I missed them all.

Time for lunch, boss?

This photo, of yours truly and the dog, and all that follow are from last weekend. It was an absolutely perfect day, my wife came along for the hike, and I shot a couple of birds. This was also a new area for me and I think it will provide much to discover for a long time. I can’t wait to try it again when the leaves are down, if I can wait that long.

Every way we turned there were different types of mushrooms about. One day, I really have to learn about such things.

These last three photos are of the spot we stopped for lunch. Sure beats sitting in a Starbucks!

 

The Crow

CrowI shot a crow out of a cherry tree when I was twelve-years-old. He fell to the ground and his wings fluttered violently as he struggled not to die. I grabbed a nearby stick to finish him off and as I raised it above him he gasped, “Wait.”
“What do you want, old crow,” I asked.
“I want to live,” he said.
“Why?”
“I want to love and be loved by my friends and family, to enjoy the sensual pleasures of life, to engage in creative work and play, and to continually investigate what is true and good and then arrange my life and manner in accordance with those discoveries,” he said. “This is how one becomes authentic, the key to all freedom and happiness.”
Then I whacked him with the stick.

A Song of Certainty

White-crowned Sparrow
Spotted this White-crowned Sparrow while hiking in the Cascade Mountains on Friday. He seemed to be keeping a close eye on me. I asked him how he sings with such certainty when we are surrounded by such overwhelming complexity. He said he had no idea what I was talking about.

Sparrow Encounters of the Weird Kind

Chickadee-dee-dee

The short version:

The above photo should have been of a House Sparrow.

The long version:

Last week, I had a House Sparrow approach me in the backyard. I was walking towards the apple tree when I noticed it exploring the ground around the trunk. It also noticed me, checked me out a little, and then skipped a few steps in my direction. Surprised, I stopped moving. It looked at me quizzically and then took a few more skips towards me.

At that point, the dog ran up but the little bird stayed put. This made me wonder if there was something wrong with it. So, I sent the dog searching for my wife and the sparrow moved even closer towards me as he ran off. Unfortunately, but not unexpectedly, the dog came racing back at full throttle, excited to report he had accomplished his mission and show he had earned any biscuits I might have stashed away in my pocket. Oddly, the sparrow didn’t spook and skipped a little closer yet. I told the dog to sit, which he did, and the little bird seemed okay with his presence until the dog noticed the bird – by then only about four feet away – and started to moan and tremble in excitement. That’s when the curious sparrow decided to fly away.

So, I quickly put the dog in the house, grabbed my camera, and raced back out to the apple tree with my iPhone. I played the House Sparrow call with iBird in the biophilian hope of calling the little fellow back. It didn’t work. Instead, three Chickadees landed in the apple tree to investigate all the noise I was making. I snapped a few photos of them – the one above being the best of the lot – while they lectured me extensively on the finer points of Chickadeeism. It’s an interesting philosophy worthy of one’s complete attention, but I couldn’t stop wondering what was going on in the mind of that sparrow.