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Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Species Spotlight #12: California Ground Squirrel

I can’t think of a better way to demonstrate the drastic change in fauna between North Carolina and California than to compare their two most common mammals. Last week, I showcased the Eastern Gray Squirrel, a species that can be found in any environment at any time of the year. It’s an arboreal specialist, jumping from treetop to treetop, clambering up and down the loose bark at speeds only a highly evolved animal could attain. However, there’s one major difference in the habitats present in southern California – they don't have trees, not like the hundred-footers we can get around here anyway. As such, the common squirrels there have had to evolve a much more terrestrial lifestyle – and thus I present you the California Ground Squirrel.

Perhaps he's just looking for an afternoon sugar rush?

James first photographed the ground squirrels several years before on a past trip out west. He found the one you see above trying to break into a tube of Mentos, presumably to improve his acorn-breath. But the picture exemplifies the adaptation of these squirrels to an urban environment much like their brethren from the east, even without the aid of trees. I first encountered the squirrels on that very first day in San Diego, at Famosa Slough. Walking along the path, I saw something dive behind a hillside of low-lying vines, and immediately I thought it must be something exotic like the crazy western birds I’d been encountering. Alas, I found only a squirrel, albeit a rather more colorful one than I’m used to on the east coast – it’s mostly brown, but with a bright white collar that grades into a series of spots along its back. Not bad looking, for a squirrel!

They live up to their name - I don't think I ever saw one more than three feet off the ground!

When I say these things were everywhere, I mean everywhere. When we traveled up to Big Bear Lake in the San Bernardino Mountains, the bird life around us changed – Mountain Chickadees instead of Bushtits, Stellar’s Jays instead of scrub jays, and Band-tailed Pigeons instead of Mourning Doves. But the squirrels remained the same, and James managed photograph this one in the late afternoon sun as he fed rather nonchalantly near our campsite. Just like the squirrels we found in San Diego, and just like the squirrels we’ve got back home.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

10 Prehistoric Birds You Didn’t Know Existed (But Were Totally Awesome!)

As a birder, it's a necessity to find passion in those birds around you, among them some of the coolest, rarest, and most interesting species to ever walk this Earth - amazing birds like the Araripe Manakin of South America, the Shoebill of Africa, and the Kagu of New Caledonia. But there's an entire other league of birds with which I've been interested for a long time, and I've decided to share them with you today. These are some of the coolest, rarest, and most interesting species of birds to ever walk this Earth - that are, for one reason or another, no longer alive to tell their tale.

10. Confuciusornis, the Dino-Bird of China

On this blog, we’ve already discussed how some birds are basically dinosaurs, but it turns out the line is so muddled that it goes the other way too. Some of the earliest true birds are rather superficially dinosaur-like in nature. Enter Confuciusornis, an early bird from China with some of the most exquisitely preserved fossils ever found. 

Some fossils even preserved internal organs! Photo via Wikipedia.

While it looks rather like a bird, with a pygostyle for a tail, long vaned flight feathers, and a toothless beak, but the wings have fully-formed clawed hands underneath the modern-looking feathers. From its fossils, scientists have discovered obvious sexual dimorphism among the birds, one of the first examples in the fossil record. Females look more or less like you would expect a bird to look, but the males exhibit spectacular twin tail feathers that appear as long ribbons, almost like the tail of a tropicbird or the aptly-named Ribbon-tailed Astrapia. As is often the case with such fossil creatures, nobody is sure how Confuciusornis once lived, but we can be sure of how it looked – recent research into preserved melanosomes has revealed that a male Confuciusornis looked mostly black, with large white patches on the wings. 

More or less what Confuciusornis really looked like. Photo via Wikipedia.

It’s one of the most common fossils found in the shale gardens of northeastern China, so hopefully in time we can learn much more about this fascinating creature.


09. Hesperornis, the Killer Loon of Kansas

Back at the end of the Cretaceous Period, that is to say, before the dinosaurs were wiped out by a wayward asteroid, North America was split in two by a large sea called the Western Interior Seaway. Large reptiles like elasmosaurs and mosasaurs populated this ancient sea, and the whole of North America would never see anything like them ever again. Living among them, on the shores of this vast waterway, were giant diving birds called Hesperornis.

A perfectly evolved fish-eating bird! Photo via Wikipedia.

They looked more or less like today’s loons, save for teeth in their bill that helped them catch fish much like a merganser would today. Oh, plus they were about twice the size! Hesperornis wasn’t closely related to any group of birds living today, but you can still find similarities if you know where to look. As Hesperornis was flightless, it had powerful feet complete with large lobes like those of a modern grebe or coot, surely an advantage when a bird spends its entire life on the water.

It probably propelled itself using its powerful lobed feet. Photo via www.dmr.nd.gov.

While many other birds have since adopted similar aquatic adaptations, Hesperornis was the first bird to perfect them.


08. Titanis, the Terror Bird of Florida

In an age when strange creatures like mastodons, lions, and camels roamed across ancient Florida, there lived a bird more powerful than any living since. Standing more than 8ft tall with a bill that could sever bone, Titanis was surely an apex predator in its time.

Definitely one of the most deadly birds of all time! Photo via Wikipedia.

The terror birds, also known as Phorusracids, evolved in South America when it was just an island, at a time when birds, marsupials, and unique mammals ruled the land. But when the continent rammed into North America, species began crossing into new territory in an event known as the Great American Interchange. Most of South America’s unique wildlife was replaced by things like big cats and modern ungulates, but some crossed back into North America, like the giant terror birds.

Imagine watching a Snail Kite, or a Mangrove Cuckoo when you're unceremoniously
killed and eaten by one of these things! Photo via Wikipedia. 

Interestingly enough, these extinct giants have a relative living today – the unique seriemas of the South American grasslands. While today they’re much smaller and much more slender than their gigantic ancestors, the seriemas live in a very similar habitat to the ancient Phorusracids. Luckily for those of us living in the States today, and especially the retirees in Florida, Titanis hasn’t walked this land in almost two million years.


07. Dromornis, the Demon Goose of the Outback

While the terror birds were roaming the ancient Americas, would it surprise you if to know an all-together similar bird was stalking the interior of prehistoric Australia? Probably not.

I mean, they do look pretty similar...  Photo by coolislandsong24 via Flickr.com.

But what is surprising, however, is that this giant 10ft-tall, possibly flesh-eating behemoth was nothing more than an enormous goose. Nobody can quite say how Dromornis lived. Some scientists suggest it ate grasses and other plants much like a modern goose, but others argue its enormous beak meant it ate more than its share of flesh.

Does this look like the face of a killer to you? Photo via carnivoraforum.com.

This family of birds, the Dromornithidae, survived in Australia until around 30,000 years ago, which means that the first settlers of the Australian continent almost certainly encountered them, perhaps even contributing to their untimely extinction.


06. Inkyacu, the Monster Penguin of Peru

Penguins! Are there any cooler birds in the world? Well, yes, but that’s not important right now. The largest penguin alive today is the giant Emperor Penguin of Antarctica, which stands four feet high on a good day. However, just 35 million years ago a much larger bird inhabited the shores of Peru, but its size isn’t even the most impressive part!

Let's just hope those aren't unsuspecting swimmers in the background! Photo via blogs.dicovermagazine.com.

Sure, it’s almost a full foot taller than the Emperor, and it’s got a long spear-like bill that’s unlike anything seen in penguins today, but wouldn’t it be nice to know what Inkayacu looked like? Luckily, the fossils of this giant penguin include perfectly preserved feathers that, like those of Confuciusornis, preserve the melanosomes that give the bird its color. Rather than being traditionally black and white like today’s penguins, Inkayacu had reddish feathers on its breast and belly, with a grayish coloration everywhere else on its body.

Doesn't look anything like the ones we've got today.  Photo via blogs.discovermagazine.com

Why penguins all evolved to become black and white is anybody’s guess at this point, but what’s clear is they once inhabited a much wider range of the color spectrum.


05. Osteodontornis, the Meanest Seabird in the Pacific

The longest wingspan in the bird world today belongs to the Wandering Albatross of the Southern Ocean, but compared to Osteodontornis, a wingspan of just 11ft is child’s play. Outwardly, it may have looked and acted like an albatross, soaring low over the rolling waves of the Pacific, but the bird with a 20ft wingspan was anything but – it’s actually more closely related to pelicans, with one key difference.

Let's see if you can guess what it is... Photo via illvid.dk.

Where most birds today are entirely toothless, Osteodontornis’s huge beak was filled with tooth-like serrations, the perfect recipe for catching fish on the wing. Standing almost four feet tall at rest, it may have been one of the largest birds ever to fly on this Earth. That is, until we get farther down the list.


04. Copepteryx, the Flightless Booby of Japan

Today, the family Sulidae is known for their extreme hunting methods – dive-bombing the ocean, wings swept back until the bird resembles a giant dart piercing the ocean’s surface. However, there once existed an altogether similar family of birds. Only instead of being perfectly evolved for aerial assault, they were completely flightless.

It's not the wings you have, it's how you use 'em! Photo by Meribenni via deviantart.com.

In fact, Copepteryx didn’t act like boobies or gannets at all, but rather swam much like modern penguins, large agile birds propelled by flipper-like wings. Just before Copepteryx and its compatriots went extinct, the world became heavily populated with mammalian predators like seals and dolphins, and it’s likely this radiation led to the extinction of the so-called “Flightless Boobies”.


03. Ornimegalonyx, the Running Owl of Cuba

Imagine you’re walking through the forests of Cuba, a scant 10,000 years ago, when you hear a rustle off to your left. You see a large bird has just pounced on a rodent, but it’s not like any bird you’ve seen – at almost four feet tall, it’s long-legged like a heron or a stork, but it dawns upon you the bird you’re looking at is, in fact, an enormous owl.


It's basically a giant owl on stilts! Photo via Wikipedia.


Ornimegalonyx probably acted rather like the modern Burrowing Owl, preferring to walk on the ground as it was a rather poor flyer, evidenced by its reduced sternal keel. It probably fed on native rodents like the enigmatic hutia, but the owl was so large it’s possible it preyed on some of the smaller ground sloths that inhabited the island. No one is quite sure why the owl went extinct, but it’s likely the same event that wiped out the very ground sloths it once preyed on.


02. Talpanas, the Kiwi-Duck of Kaua'i

A braincase can tell you a lot about a bird. In this case, Talpanas lippa was a small duck whose remains were discovered in 2009 on the Hawaiian island of Kaua'i. Its braincase was shallow and wide, with very small optic foramina (aka “eye holes”), but what does this mean for the bird? It would appear that Talpanas foraged upon the forest floor, likely blind and flightless, using sensitive nerves on the end of its bill to locate things like worms and grubs in the topsoil.

Looks like a walking platypus, doesn't it? Photo by HodariNundu via deviantart.com.

Funnily enough, there’s a bird alive today that lives almost exactly like this – none other than the secretive kiwi of New Zealand. That a duck would convergently evolve almost the exact same lifestyle is extraordinary, but good luck finding one alive today – the species went extinct almost 6000 years ago.


01. Argentavis, the Largest Bird that Ever Flew

The largest birds flying today are the majestic condors of the Americas, specifically the Andean Condor. A monster of a bird with a 10.5ft wingspan and a top weight of 33lbs, it’s nothing to scoff at – in fact, it’s so heavy that it only rarely takes off from the ground, preferring to take off from a cliff face or mountain peak. However, in the past, there used to be much larger condors called Teratorns. These enormous birds were so big that the smallest one, the famous Teratornis of the La Brea Tar Pits, was still significantly larger than the Andean Condor. But the most amazing Teratorn was Argentavis, an epically large condor once found in the very habitat where the Andean Condor lives today.

Yeah, you better believe this picture's to scale! Photo via wikinut.com.

It’s larger than any flying bird that has ever lived – a wingspan of 23ft makes it a larger soarer than Osteodontornis mentioned above, more than twice the wingspan of today’s longest wingspan, the Wandering Albatross. But wait, there’s more! The tallest flyer today is the Sarus Crane, at over 6.5ft tall – but the Argentavis was taller than that sitting down! This was truly a gigantic bird, and it persisted over the eastern Andes until just 6 million years ago. So how did Argentavis live?

I believe the technical Latin term is "amo a bulla"... Like a boss!
Photo by Wandering Albatross via deviantart.com.

With its long wings and terrific mass (most estimates range over 150lbs), Argentavis was probably a dedicated scavenger like its living relatives, but there aren’t many large animals to scavenge in South America today. In the Miocene, herds of odd hoofed mammals totally unrelated to today’s ungulates roamed the grassy hills adjacent to a gigantic inland seaway, meaning Argentavis had plenty of carrion to scavenge from, and probably evolved its large size to maximize its feeding range. How such a large bird took off from the ground, like much of this amazing bird's biology, is totally unknown, and will probably remain unknown for a very long time.


Well, I hope you enjoyed that little diversion from my normal weekend bird report. It's been fun telling you about these awesome creatures, but this is truly just the tip of the iceberg. Many hundreds of fossil birds have been described to date, and there are many more to come. Perhaps in the near future I'll do a sequel to this list, but for now have fun with those birds that are still alive to grace us with their avian presence!

Thursday, November 10, 2011

#43: Western Gull - Fiesta Island, CA

As I mentioned in the most recent post, my first lifer in California was a nice Western Gull, and it’s no coincidence why – they’re everywhere down there. And luckily gull identification is really easy in SoCal during the middle of summer. There’re only two or three species present, and one of them is quite distinctive (more on that later), meaning that if there was ever a gull I had a question about, nine times out of ten I had a Western Gull.

On James’s second day in San Diego, we headed down to Fiesta Island in Mission Bay. Man, Fiesta Island is a special place. In California, they don’t really have the concept of “rednecks” like we do in North Carolina. But if they did, I’d guarantee you every one of them would head down to Fiesta Island. It’s a dank, seedy beach where the men are chugging cases of Coors Light and the women are walking around in bikinis two sizes too small. Somewhat unfortunately, the birds don’t seem to mind the beachgoers as much as I did.

Common, but hey - can't complain about a lifer! Can complain about the beachgoers, however.

As often happens in southern California, we found a flock of gulls along the side of the road. This Western Gull put on quite a show for us, squabbling with the other gulls in the flock and ultimately alighting for a second before finding his place back among his fellow gulls. That is, until some asshole in a jetski buzzed the shore causing all the birds to flush. But hey, it’s California, right?

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Species Spotlight #11: Eastern Gray Squirrel

“Yet I assume you don’t share the same animosity with squirrels that you do with rats, do you? … But they’re both rodents, are they not? And except for the tail they even rather look alike, don’t they?”
– Colonel Hans Landa, Inglourious Basterds


This past weekend, I found myself walking down a forested trail at the local birding hotspot Mason Farm when suddenly I heard a rustling in the dead leaves to my right. My immediate instinct told me to find the source of the sound because it was probably a bird, right? No, of course, it was a squirrel, an Eastern Gray Squirrel to be exact. And then I heard rustling to my left – a second squirrel, and then a third along the trail in front of me and a fourth calling from a limb overhead.

That’s four squirrels in less than twenty feet’s worth of trail! These Eastern Gray Squirrels are by far the most common mammal in North Carolina, and you can find them pretty much anywhere, rural or urban. But why are squirrels so successful? I mean, as the shrewd Colonel Hans Landa put it, they’re basically just glorified rats with bushy tails. But there’s really more to it than that – squirrels are rodents more or less specialized for an arboreal lifestyle, and there are a lot of trees on the east coast. More so in the past than now, but squirrels appear readily adaptable, and have taken to urban living just as well as they did to their forested homes of yore.

Make no mistake - behind that blank state is a devious mastermind of an animal...

This particular squirrel was photographed by James coming to our bird feeders at home. In the winter, the squirrels will often feed alongside the towhees, juncos, and other ground-loving birds. Unfortunately, the squirrels will also find many innovative ways to break into our carefully guarded bird feeders, no matter the precautions we take. And perhaps that’s why they’re so successful – like most humans, or my dog, squirrels stand paramount among the mammals as an animal willing to travel great lengths to obtain food. No matter if it’s a trash can, a bird feeder, or an oak tree flush with acorns, a squirrel will find food even if it means competing with three other squirrels to find every morsel along a random trail in Mason Farm. It's really too bad they're so common –aside from that, they're actually pretty cool when you think about it!

Monday, November 7, 2011

To Twitch, or Not To Twitch?

Every once in a while, I get this urge. It usually happens when I’ve just settled down, started to relax, and because why the hell not, checked the local listserv, just to see. That’s when I notice a rare bird report from my area, and immediately I must give chase. This happened most recently with that Ross’s Goose that showed up in Cary recently – I didn’t need the bird for my state list, and I don’t particularly care about my Wake (and subsequently, Chatham) list, but I had to get down there to see that awesome bird. However, when something rare, say, a Tundra Swan, gets reported from my home turf of Durham, that urge turns into a need. A need for speed!

Unfortunately the bird was reported in the late afternoon, so I couldn’t race out to chase it until the following morning. A quick check of the Hickory Hills Boat Ramp on Falls Lake revealed a solid thousand Double-crested Cormorants, and some nice rafts of Gadwall and Ruddy Ducks, but not that magnificent bird I’d been hoping for. So, I decided to check out nearby Ellerbe Creek, whose mudflats still house shorebirds not yet wanting to head for climes further south. As I walked along the railroad grade, I heard a series of low chips emanating from the swamp to my left. That’s when I saw a flock of blackbirds hanging on an old leafless tree – Red-winged Blackbirds, as is to be expected, but also a good number of the overwintering and much more uncommon Rusty Blackbirds.

This was actually one of the more sizeable Rusty Blackbird flocks I've seen in recent years.

If the reappearance of Rusty Blackbirds doesn’t signal the start of winter, I’m not sure what does. These awesome brown-and-blackbirds have undergone a serious population decline recently, with somewhere between 85-98% of the birds disappearing over the past couple decades. As far as I know, nobody’s quite sure why, but it may have something to do with loss of breeding habitat in their northerly summering range. In any case, I’m glad I still get to see them down here every year, and lucky for me a nice rusty-looking female decided to hop up in the tree nearest to me – probably my closest ever look at a Rusty Blackbird!

I'll just come out and say it - one of the few species where the females are cooler than the males!

Heading down to the flats, I met fellow birder Nick Flanders scoping shorebirds from the far peninsula. The number of birds out there surprised me – several hundred peeps, mostly Least Sandpipers, plus decent numbers of Pectoral Sandpipers and both Yellowlegs. Almost more interesting were the American Pipits feeding intermittingly amongst the shorebirds, almost like they were honorary members of the sandpipers’ little mudflat club. Nick told me he had a relatively uncommon (and very late) White-rumped Sandpiper among the shorebirds, and as I neared, one of the pipits decided to land right in front of me and feed along the water's edge – and I was all too happy to snap this shot!

These guys were flying all over the place, making it very difficult to get an accurate count.

After enjoying the pipit I turned my attention back to the sandpiper at hand. As I crept closer to the feeding flock the mud grew deeper, and I began to sink. Not good at all, especially as the White-rumped Sandpiper decided to take this opportunity to stop preening and start edging towards the far end of the pond. Eventually I reached the water’s edge, and had to snap a shot no matter how distant. It’s frustrating to have to photograph like this, but hey, at least I got to photograph a White-rumped Sandpiper for the first time ever!

So it's one of my worst pics I've ever taken. Doesn't matter. Had White-rumped.

On the way back, I pointed out to Nick a couple of wriggling shapes in one of the ponds. They turned out to be Common Carp, and as the water level continued to fall in the now-isolated pond, the large fish had nowhere to go. I’d feel sorry for them, but the carp are a major invasive species around here, and if there’s an easy way to rid the lake of a couple dozen, I’m all for it.

This pic represents only a fraction of the fish struggling to survive in the shrinking pool.

Plus, turns out the shallow-swimming carp make for easy pickin’s! Nick and I met Scott (they guy who found the no-show swan) atop the railroad grade, and as we discussed our findings for the day a pair of immature Bald Eagles began to circle closer and closer to the fishy bonanza. I didn’t see the attack occur, but the next thing I know one of the Bald Eagles had a carp in its talons and started to rip into the fish while sitting in the nearby sedges.

And then he flew off after being mobbed by a bunch of crows.

We checked Hickory Hills one last time, and just to be safe scoped the Cheek Road causeway, but even with an extra pair of eyes courtesy Nate from The Drinking Bird, the swan remained unseen – but I don’t regret it for a minute. Sure it would’ve been nice to get the bird, but at least the wayward swan got me out to Falls Lake so I could check out rusties and pipits and eagles – any day I can mention those birds in the same sentence is a winner in my book! 

Friday, November 4, 2011

#42: Black-necked Stilt - Famosa Slough, CA

I can clearly remember the first life bird I got while in San Diego. I’d just gotten off the plane after a mid-morning flight in late July of 2010, but with the time difference it was still around 9am. But as I stepped out the doors of San Diego International into the June Gloom that, for some reason, still plagued southern California well into August, I noticed a large white bird with a dark mantle sitting atop a nearby streetlight – my first Western Gull. And with that, my California adventure had begun.

San Diego lies over 2500 miles from my home in North Carolina, and as such the bird life is wildly different. The first spot I visited was Famosa Slough, a small waterway nearby to where I was staying, so close in fact that it became my local patch for the several weeks I stayed in California. The lifers began coming swiftly by this point, so its hard to say what I saw next, but I know some of the first birds I spotted at the slough were a flock of Black-necked Stilts, a crazy awesome shorebird I’d been wanting to see for a long time. I first saw them from across the way, but I soon found a shortcut and ended up right in front of the birds, getting fantastic looks and enjoying their antics as they fed along the water’s edge.

These guys were present at the Slough every day I visited - and I enjoyed 'em every time!

Of course, I didn’t take this picture when I first saw them. James had the camera and he wouldn’t arrive for another couple of days, but as soon as he did, I took him right to the slough, took my little shortcut, and found the birds just as I had a couple days before. The Black-necked Stilts were awesome to see, and a great way to start out the Birding Bros. adventures in California!

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Species Spotlight #10: Five-lined Skink

Around these parts, we’ve got this lizard. Sometimes you’ll walk outside and it’s basking on your porch, or perhaps it’s scurrying away into the underbrush as you walk up your driveway. Whatever the case, these things are everywhere, without a doubt the most common reptile I run into. When I was growing up, I called ‘em Blue-tailed Skinks, for obvious reasons. It wasn’t until years later I learned their true nature.

In fact, they’re called Five-lined Skinks. The blue tail only shows up in juveniles, and for some reason, perhaps lack of experience in evading predators, this is the form I always seem to find. It’s actually quite uncommon that I’ll run across an adult of this species, though once or twice I’ve run into a big red-headed male. No, it’s the juveniles I always find, and it’s their blue tails I’ll remember them by.

Would it be as cool if the tail wasn't blue? Not in the slightest, so thank God it is!

James and I found this particular individual along a creek that runs through Duke Forest. Skinks like this seem very skittish to me, and this guy definitely stuck around longer than the average individual, allowing James just enough time to snap the picture. While we’ve never gotten that perfect shot, this picture is more than enough reminder of the awesome little lizard that we can find almost any day of the year even in the middle of urban North Carolina.