Firsts and Seconds

Beryl is almost upon us. Tropical depression Beryl, that is – I guess she’s unhappy that her status has been downgraded! Anyway, the storm is set to dump rain and high winds on the Triangle area, and out of fear they could be M.I.A in the coming days (and no, I don’t mean they’re going to become international hip-hop stars), James and I took a chance and visited the nesting Warbling Vireos of Lake Shelley.

When we left, the sky was a monotonous overcast, but by the time we reached Raleigh, bright spots and blue blotches appeared among the clouds. Almost as soon as we left the parking lot, I could hear the incessant ramblings of a male Warbling Vireo calling from atop one of the nearby sycamores. At least I’m told they’re sycamores – I’m really bad at trees. Unfortunately, we were totally unprepared for the sun when the clouds broke, and the by the time James compensated for the light, the male jumped down from his singing perch and flew off. Still, a lifer is a lifer, and he got his shot.

Vireos just aren't very photogenic - we don't have good pictures of any!

We could never find the reported nest (mostly because I forgot my binoculars – more on that later), but I was able to view one of the Warbling Vireos quite closely. A large Common Grackle got a little to close to the nesting area, and a vireo swooped down, chasing the large blackbird out of its territory, and landed at a nice eye level. Using a detached spotting scope, I got my best view of a Warbling Vireo since I was in college, watching one sing along Beaver Lake in Asheville.

While the Warbling Vireos may have been our immediate target, the sure-fire birds were just a MacGuffin to get us out towards the Shelley Lake area. Around the far reaches of the lake, local birders had been sporadically reporting Great Horned Owls, and as it too would be a lifer for James, we decided to spend some time looking for one. Our strategies differed however, and James quickly bolted down the trail, quickly reaching the area where the owls had been reported. I, on the other hand, using only a detached spotting scope that would serve as my optics for the morning, painstakingly looked through every pine for any sign of a roosting owl. Then, randomly, I came upon a bundle of feathers.

This bundle of feathers, to be exact. I'm still not sure how I ever spotted it, but I remember
my heart skipping a beat when I did!

Immediately I called James on his cell phone, telling him simply: “I’ve got one.” He sprinted the half-mile back to my location, but at the time I couldn’t tell if the owl was even the Great-horned we were looking for – it could have been a more common Barred Owl, or even a juvenile of either species. As James ran up, the owl reached over and scratched his chin, revealing twin tufts of feathers. We’d found our bird, and maneuvered slightly to get into prime viewing position.

I watched through the scope as he peered down at us - he seemed to be looking into our souls!

Almost immediately after reaching our optimal spot, two things happened. For one, the clouds totally broke, and light shone upon the bird who clearly thought he was hidden in a dense tangle of pine needles. Secondly, a large mixed flock of American and Fish Crows started calling from just above our heads. We were afraid we’d betrayed the owl’s position, but he kept his cool and stayed put. Eventually the crows flew off, perhaps pursuing a different predatory bird – or even a second owl! The Great Horned Owl watched them depart into the distance, almost oblivious to our presence. Another lifer for James, and another bird I've only seen once before.

It's the first one I've found roosting during the day - makes for a totally different experience!

On the way back from our owl adventure, James and I couldn’t help but visit the Warbling Vireo one last time. Same as before, the male flitted between the sycamores, singing constantly. The only difference is he stayed in the same spot for more than a couple seconds, and James was able to get a shot of his lifer that he was finally happy with. While we sat there, staring up into the tree, a couple passing walkers (/not zombies) asked us what we were looking at. Was it an owl nest? A heron nest? They’d seen a heron a couple days ago, it must’ve been six feet tall, they said.

Why, does it look like a heron or something?

No, it was a Warbling Vireo. “That doesn’t mean anything to me,” she replied. “I know,” I replied, a knowing smirk on my face. “It’s kind of a birder’s bird.” The walker shrugged and walked off, not realizing that she’d passed up a creature wholly unusual in our neck of the woods. It’s too bad they couldn’t enjoy it like James and I did, but it’s her loss – just means more birds for us!

Hoot! (There It Is)

::Robert's Note:: Get it, like that Tag Team song from the mid-90s? Yeah, that just happened. Anyway, earlier this year, James finally got his lifer Barred Owl after a long and arduous search. This is his story of that fateful morning...

Owls have always caused problems for me. With a combination of bad luck, my love of sleep, and needing to have pictures for my life list (which makes night owling totally useless), it took me a year and a half and almost 300 life birds to finally get my first owl. Funnily enough, that first owl proved to be the difficult to find Northern Saw-whet Owl on top of Roan Mountain last summer.

Not saying it was the best trip ever but... yeah, it pretty much was

So when I headed home for Christmas break, my goal was to get a Barred Owl. After many failed missions at Mason Farm and a close call in my neighborhood, I saw via eBird that they'd been seen regularly at a small park in west Raleigh. I waited for a day that was supposed to be clear and took an early morning trip out there. I walked the trail that was supposedly the place to find the high roosting birds, and once again – nothing. I decided to pull out my speakers and try a little playback. After a couple seconds, no reply. I walked another hundred yards and tried again. After a long pause, I thought I was sunk… then clearly from across the pond, finally, a response!

I had my doubts, thinking there might be another birder trying the very same trick, but I decided to run over towards the call’s location. I waited for a few minutes and didn’t hear anything, so I decided to try again. The speaker played out the powerful Barred Owl hoot, hoot; and there it was! Almost immediately after I turned on the speakers, a large bird glided silently through the trees, and landed about sixty feet up in the pine.

I've heard Barred Owls are curious,  but this takes it to a whole new level!

The owl put on quite a show, vocalizing for several minutes, and was in no way concerned with the joggers underneath who would pause momentarily trying to find out what was making all the racket. Eventually, after I had snapped probably fifty to sixty pictures and a video, chickadees and titmice showed up to harass the owl, sending him swooping off his perch and deep into the forest. But no matter – I had finally gotten my lifer Barred Owl!

I bet he thinks we humans are totally insignificant from up there.

The trip to Bond Park also yielded fantastic looks at a Double-crested Cormorant and Hooded Merganser, but nothing could be nearly as cool as a Barred Owl. Now I just have to find the other two owls that frequent the Triangle – the powerful but scarce Great-horned Owl, and of course the tiny, enigmatic Screech-Owl (which Robert got just a week after I left for college again, what an asshole!)

You know, when you think about it, one hell of an awesome duck!

::Robert's Note:: Haters gonna hate! Anyway, check back Monday for the last write-up of my trip to southeastern North Carolina!

Epic Mountain Birding, Part I - The Beginning!

The Appalachian Mountains are full of unique wildlife, and on the border between Tennessee and North Carolina, doubly so. Mostly it’s full of things like high-elevation salamanders and plants, but it’s also got breeding birds you can find nowhere else in the state! So, when a group of young birders (read: average age of about 20 or so) decided to go after these special breeders, man I was game!

Because I had to work on Thursday night, I couldn’t leave with the first wave of birders, so I left with James and Mark K of The Belted Cowbird on Friday… a little late, unfortunately, so we didn’t get to the Tennessee side of Roan Mountain until 10pm. Mistake #1! Not setting a meeting place – our cell phones didn’t work on Roan and we couldn’t find the other guys at the camping site or the summit. No problem. We had targets to find.

We started on the summit, over 6200’. A cool wind split the night, and the bright orange moon was larger than I have ever seen it. City lights twinkled below, and in the shrubs along the summit, fireflies blinked with some odd kind of synchronicity. After searching around the parking lot, we decided our target was nowhere to be found, and so headed back down to the thicker spruce line. We pulled off the road real quick to listen, and there it was.

Pu pu pu… pu pu pu pu pu pu…

We found it on the side of the road, caught it just barely in Mark’s powerful lantern… and the damn thing ran out of batteries! WTF, terrible timing! Then  we heard it just up the road and ran after it, stepped up the hillside just a bit and found it in our low powered flashlights, low among the spruces, just ten feet away! Northern Saw-whet Owl!

Northern Saw-whet Owl - Roan Mountain, TN; 6/17/2011

We watched it for a good five minutes while James manually focused his camera in our flashlight beams. A couple of shots later and we had a fantastically decent image of this bird in what is the most southerly part of its breeding range. And the kicker? We found the bird on the Tennessee side of the mountain, and not a minute after we drank in our views it flew over to the North Carolina side, giving us a SWEET state bird that is particularly hard to find anywhere else in the Carolinas.

One target bird under our belt, and we still had a whole day of birding to go! Stay tuned for the exciting sequel: Epic Mountain Birding, Part II – The Continuing!