Category: Uncategorized

Merrick Orchard, Dundas Valley, Hamilton ON. December 1 2021. I’ve said this before but as November fades to December it sometimes feels as though a vacuum cleaner has sucked up all the birds and taken them away; it can be awfully still out there. Those fields and woods that were so lively and musical are now deadly quiet. But it is what it is and yesterday I took a long and taxing uphill-downhill walk through the woodlands and fields. I could hear White-breasted Nuthatches busy socialising, the odd noisy Blue Jay and watched a Hairy Woodpecker hammering at the soft wood extremities of a dead Red Ash. But it was slim pickings bird-wise until I found my Bird of the Day.

A Hermit Thrush sat quietly, clearly visible in the open upper level of abundantly berried bush. I was a little taken aback, Hermit Thrushes are usually quick to make themselves less visible, like all their thrush cousins. But this one sat quietly and watched me as I moved to get the best angle for photos, it gave me plenty of time to study it and pick out the field marks that distinguish it: a shy demeanour, a fairly heavily spotted upper breast and rusty brown back and tail.

It really was a wow! Bird, not because it’s improbable, a few always winter over this far north, but because it was just sitting there, being seen, studied and enjoyed. My Bird of a cold Day.

 

Neblinas, Landa de Matamoros, Mexico. November 14. 2021.  The two countries neighbouring the USA could hardly be more different: Canada ‘We the North” – some like to say, and Mexico, The… what?  In the popular imagination perhaps cactus-dotted and arid, or blue waters and margaritas. Our Mexico though was neither, our Mexico as opened to us by Travelian Tours, was rushing rivers, small villages, inconvenient mountains, pines, oaks and great birding in a rain forest.

As we looked across range after range of rugged mountains and deep canyons I tried to imagine how it was possible that Hernan Cortez and his conquistadors had crossed these mountains five-hundred years ago. Their story is well known but is far too long and complex to get into here, but I’m certain few people today would rationally contemplate crossing these endlessly hostile and interlocking ranges on foot, no matter how young and fit you might be. History tells us the rationale was quite simply the promise of gold.

To reach Neblinas, a thinly populated hillside settlement, we followed narrow roads, weaving endlessly, climbing all the time and doubling back on ourselves to follow the line of least topographical resistance.  The hillsides were green and moist, cattle pastures dotted expanses of cloud forest.

Three kilometres short of Neblinas (Spanish for mists) the van stopped and we piled out. It promptly left and Rodrigo explained the plan that we would continue walking and looking for birds until we reach the village where the van would be waiting for us. With that, we rather counterintuitively set off in the opposite direction. But in truth for the next hour or two we hardly moved at all, there was so much to see. I struggled to keep up as we tracked movement and songs: Yellow-winged Tanager, Masked Tityra, Elegant Euphonia and Flame- colored Tanager, all new to me and confounding at times as they moved in and out of view (which, by the way, is the challenge and intrigue of birding).

Everyone stopped dead when Barry abruptly called, “Bat Falcon!” A bird of coffee table books surely!  But there, as plain as day, atop an old snag sat this very attractive bird of prey. It is described in the authoritative Guide to the Birds of Mexico and Northern Central America as a ‘small compact tropical falcon – of – open areas with scattered patches of trees, towns mostly in humid areas… main prey – birds, bats and insects.” Breathtaking to me and the sort of bird which by its name alone seems improbable. But here it is.

Others lingered to examine the falcon but I needed more and moved to another tree, and soon spotted large slow movements in some lower branches. Out of my depth I needed expert help, and as I called to get others’ attention, the almost correct words came out, “I’m looking at a large brown, I don’t know, I’ve got a – a – cuckoo – of some kind”. And cuckoo it was, a Squirrel Cuckoo. It had the eyes, face and long tail of cuckoos as I know them in Ontario. I suppose it’s its squirrel-like behaviour as it pokes its way around close to the main trunk and branches of trees that earned it its name. It also has a rather furry looking cinnamon brown plumage. I wish I could have got a better photo but here it is.

Two birds of the day, both with mammal-bird names, bat and squirrel, falcon and cuckoo. Hard to beat.

November 9 2021. Pinal de Amoles, Mexico. Our Mexican birding days usually started early and if the birding was good, lunch might easily get forgotten until quite late in the afternoon. Today when we had finally had enough of steep, narrow trails with spectacular views, enough of Mexican Jays, Hutton’s Vireos and Acorn Woodpeckers, enough of  Black Vultures and Chihuahuan Ravens skidding past at eye level, we settled comfortably into a local restaurant, ready to take our time and unwind over a long lunch.

The lunch was good, they always were, all meals were an exploration of Mexican food for me.  My companions helped with menu explanations as needed but I was happy to try anything, although sometimes I’d fall back on, “I’ll have the same as him.” It worked best when I was too tired to think.

Towards the end of lunch, Rodrigo, our Travelian Tours leader, returning from a minor errand, pointed out that he could hear the song of a Blue-throated Mountain-gem (below) coming from the adjacent courtyard.  This was a too-good-to-miss opportunity for our group so we settled the bill and went looking. We found it, a female, feeding from the pendulous flowers of a large Fuchsia.

Mountain-gem is a touch misleading because it is a hummingbird; clearly.  Until recently it was known as Blue-throated Hummingbird, but to satisfy hair-splitters in the bird-naming world, the Blue-throated and six other hummingbirds, were assigned to a distinctive Mountain-gem subgroup, probably because they are quite large, as hummingbirds go.

There was more. One of us suddenly noted a Cinnamon-bellied Flowerpiercer (above) working this same Fuchsia.  This was a surprising discovery; an unexpected bonus and we were all in a good position to study it. Other than that efficient flower-piercing bill, it looks rather like a small version of our familiar American Robin.  I take it from my more knowledgeable friends that it was a good sighting, so that made two, or maybe several, Birds of the Day.

Bernal, Querétaro, Mexico  November 2. 2021. I write this having just returned from a birding journey with a small group of friends exploring Mexico’s Sierra Gorda, a series of mountain ranges three hours north-east of Mexico City.

For Rodrigo, our leader, it was his first return there since Covid had paralysed the travel and tourism business around the world. He knew where to take us and what to expect and had arranged a 10-day itinerary rich in cultural, natural and scenic texture. Inevitably we were testing the post-covid waters a bit to see how well the people and facilities had come through. We needn’t have worried, we found eagerly welcoming, warm and well-prepared people everywhere.

Bernal is a busy, modern town with an old-world Mexican heart. It is dominated and overseen by La Peña de Bernal an ancient volcano core, an unmissable point of reference.

We hiked around the base of La Peña on our first morning. As is always the case in new-to-me places, I was forever being stopped in my tracks to examine and wonder at plants, spiders, butterflies, and the like (as well as birds), things that were exciting to me but were probably commonplace to locals.

Over dinner at the end of this first full day of birding, I canvassed the table asking, ‘What was your bird of the day today?”  There was plenty of variety including a colourful Townsend’s Warbler, a subtle Ash–throated Flycatcher, a faraway Black-vented Oriole and an ever-dramatic Vermilion Flycatcher.

My choice was this Phainopepla seen and photographed commanding the world from atop a thorny bush. No-one argued, it was a beauty, not showy but elegant and apparently always a valued sighting.

I have never used this site to advertise, but Rodrigo, through his company Travelian Tours delivered such a first class 10-day experience that I can’t let it go without recognizing and recommending him, his expertise and attention to detail.

Woodland Cemetery, Burlington, ON. November 2. 2021. Early November brings abrupt changes after the sometimes heady days of October,  now we meet reminders of winter to come. Not that it’s particularly cold these past two days but the skies are troubled and stirred by buffeting north-westerly winds.  November is when the last of our south-bound migrants had better get a move on.  Birders know these days for good sightings of birds of prey on the move: eagles and falcons in particular.

Not far from home, there is an elevated horseshoe of land that looks east and west over stretches of open water.  Choose the right wind on the right day and these are good places to watch for migrant birds of all shapes and sizes.  The cemetery is particularly good on days of strong westerly winds.

Yesterday a friend spent half a morning scanning the skies for some of those birds of prey, I turned down his suggestion that I might consider joining him, claiming that tidying the attic was more important. He sent me this brief text around lunchtime, “Adult GOEA just went over.” GOEA is shorthand for Golden Eagle, just about the Holy Grail of birding. Well, that’s the way it goes sometimes.

Today those strong westerlies continued, chilly winds that made finding a good windbreak important. I spent an hour or so in a such a spot watching for large birds on the move. I admired a pair of local Bald Eagles, an adult and a youngster, riding and slip-sliding the updrafts and a young Red-tailed Hawk hanging motionless on those same airs.  And then came My Bird of the Day, a Peregrine Falcon. Circling overhead, one moment behind trees, next moment spiralling high up, it moved too fast for me to get a photograph. But no matter, a peregrine is a treat any day.