Okay, actually, no profit to be made from gull ID as far as I know. But if it's possible to tilt the meter from pure aggravation toward fun, that would be something.
I've been trying to work on Gull ID, but it's all just a blur.
Let's call this an open thread, but with encouragement to post gull pix and let us puzzle over ID together. I'm hoping we can get a nice assortment of gulls from around the country.
Spring is sprung, the grass is riz - I wonder where the birdies iz?
Pull up a comfy chair and join us for brunch, now that there's a diary.
... except sometimes birds gotta dive, and then the fish gotta fly, ever so briefly.
Can't help lovin' that man o' mine...
Because, really, who doesn't love an osprey? Other than anything with fins, I mean.
But who loves 'em best?
To everything... turn, turn, turn.
Tern, tern, tern?
There is a season... turn, turn, turn.
Everything has a life cycle. Dawn Chorus is entering a new phase in its cycle.
I'm heading out early today to do some scouting for our Christmas Count area, San Francisco's Lake Merced.
Western Grebe. Or is it? We have Western, Clark's, and those confusing hybrids all in our count area.
Coyote bush is great stuff, but hard to work into the lyrics of a carol.
Last weekend, we had some non-raptorial visitors at our banding blind. (Which was good because there sure weren't many hawks around.)
True to form, they brought happiness.
We do our banding in an incredibly beautiful location. It takes something special to make it even more beautiful, but these birds are up to it.
Earlier this year, we had a nice meetup of local Kossacks to welcome matching mole for a Bay Area visit. It turned into a dual welcome when bwren flew down to join us. Unfortunately, we were not visited by many of the birds we'd hoped to see, including several that would have been lifers for our visitors.
The problem was the drought, and at this time last winter it was becoming obvious that we weren't just having a dry winter; no, we were well and truly fucked.
The only birds who showed up where they were expected last year were the Peacocks of Branscombe Road. Entertaining, but hardly worth a flight from Florida.
Somehow, it seems appropriate for a
Flickr Flicker to go viral.
But it's a lot easier to get attention when you're a golden boy.
Flicker intergrade, banded at Richardson Bay Audubon Center
How viral is he? See the photos at the end.
Somehow you'd expect some aggression from a bird whose first name is "Kill", especially if it sounds like they kill critters as large as deer.
Not so much, as it turns out. They eat invertebrates and they'd much rather run than fight. And they'd like to get you to run as well.
A Killdeer spots me, and I'm apparently near its nest...
... so it runs a short distance and flops down in some rocks.
It runs a little more, flops down again and feigns a broken wing. This bird has a future as a soccer player.
Running further, up into the grass now, it keeps flashing its bright rusty tail.
Now the "wounded bird" has two "broken" wings on display. An instant later, it decided it had drawn me far enough from the nest and flew away.
The seasons are shifting and everyone's on the move; the birds are settling into new homes for a spell. Humans too.
California for the memory bank.
A great friend is moving away. We've had a few adventures together over the years, shared some rough times but many more good times. I'll be sad to have so many miles between us, but happy for the reason behind his move. Before he starts packing in earnest, there was time for one more birding trip. And what a trip it was.