July 23rd, 2012: Pinnacles National Monument

      After an early wakeup (6:45 AM), I headed to Pinnacles National Monument with my parents. Pinnacles National Monument is about 2 hours south of the Bay Area, and about 45 minutes southeast from Monterey, so it is rather distant. However, the long drive to get over there is well worth it. Pinnacles National Monument is a well-known birding hotspot in the area. With its riparian habitat in the foothills, its chaparral environment along the hillsides, and its mountainous peaks, Pinnacles National Monument harbors a multitude of bird species. The star bird of this park is the critically endangered California Condor. This park is a release site where birds raised in captivity are released by scientists, when they are deemed ready to fend for themselves and live on their own. There are about 200 condors that frequent this park regularly. However, this flock is known for venturing off to Big Sur (a little further north, towards the coast), so there is always the possibility of visiting Pinnacles National Monument, and leaving without having seen a single condor. This park is also known for its numerous nesting raptors. This year, the raptors that have nested in the park include California Condors, Golden Eagles, Red-Tailed Hawks, Red-Shouldered Hawks, Prairie Falcons, and Turkey Vultures. When I saw this data online, I had high hopes for the myriad raptors species I expected to see. At about 9:30, we finally arrived at the entrance of Pinnacles National Monument.

Pinnacles National Monument entrance gate

   After paying the $5 entrance fee, we drove towards the Bear Gulch nature center, where I was going to ask a ranger which trails are better for birding. During the brief drive from the entrance gate to the nature center, we crossed a Wild Turkey flock of 15 that was completely oblivious of our car driving by and then parking not 10 feet away. 

Wild Turkeys

    We finally arrived at the nature center, which turned out to be closed, and only opens at 10:00 AM. Fortunately, we crossed a couple park rangers and asked them a couple questions. We finally got all the information we yearned for, and so we headed towards the trailhead. On our way there, we crossed several birds in the trees of the riparian habitat, such as nesting Acorn Woodpeckers, Oak Titmice, Spotted Towhee, and a single Western Wood-Pewee, that we got wonderful views of.

Western Wood-Pewee

    Soaring high up in the sky were several Turkey Vultures. I scrutinized thoroughly every single one of the vultures' underwings. Turkey Vultures have gray underwings, but California Condors have a long and egregious white line under each one of its wings. It is the best field mark to differentiate these two species, other than the evident size difference. 

     Once we began the hike, there were birds all around us. From the Acorn Woodpeckers flying from tree to tree, to the Western Scrub-Jays and the Spotted Towhees shuffling around in the dead leaves on the ground, and the Bushtits foraging in the trees in large flocks, the birds were ubiquitous. Then, a yellowish bird caught my eye as it flew from an exposed perch to a dense patch of branches. It was very difficult to get a good view of this playful and active bird. Finally, it flew to a branch in the dense patch that was right in the middle of an opening. This little "pain in the ass" turned out to be an adorable Pacific-Slope Flycatcher, a personal favorite of mine.

Pacific-Slope Flycatcher

   We resumed our ascent to the peaks of the park. We were on the High Peaks trail, a trail that leads to the top of the mountains, where the condors are said to be easily seen. As we hiked along, we encountered species such as Dark-Eyed Junco, Bewick's Wren, Lesser Goldfinch, and a single flyover White-Throated Swift. We then arrived at the cavernous section of the hike. Pinnacles National Monument is also known for its many underground caves. These caves were pleasant to walk through, as they were very damp and cool, unlike the scorching hot outside world. The only downside was that it was pitch black. Without a flashlight, it is impossible to walk through these caves. Fortunately, we came prepared, for I read about these somber and dark underground tunnels.

    Once we exited the caves, we arrived at the Bear Gulch Reservoir, where several duck species have been sighted in the past. But there weren't any anatids that day, the reservoir was absolutely deserted. But I can't say the same for the surrounding areas. Right by the exit from the cave, little, elongated, orange-backed, gray-headed, and white-throated birds flew into crevices in the rocks, where they constructed their nests. These birds were Canyon Wrens, another personal favorite of mine. 

Canyon Wren (the white patch in the center is its throat)

   The fun part of the hike was behind us. From there on out, it was uphill and rocky terrain. There was hardly any shade along the hike, and the temperature reached over 100 degrees. My water began heating up, making it undrinkable. I became parched, and my throat was as dry as the Sahara Desert.  Fortunately, there were birds that motivated me to continue to trek on. Ash-Throated Flycatchers quarreled between each other, Wrentits made their ping-pong ball call in the chaparral shrubs, and Western Scrub-Jays screeched from right and left. I finally arrived in a shaded area, beneath a large boulder. I made sure there weren't any rattlesnakes around (I've encountered too many rattlesnakes to be stupid enough to ignore the possibility of their presence), and finally sat down. Fortunately, my Gatorade was still cool and refreshing, so I quenched my thirst with that. As I waited for my parents to catch up with me, I kept on birding. An American Kestrel flew above the Bear Gulch Reservoir, where we were previously, and Turkey Vultures continued to circle around in the sky. 

   After a twenty minute break, we continued hiking. We hiked for forty minutes, and we finally arrived at the peak. During those forty minutes, I saw a "red-shafted" Northern Flicker, a Hairy Woodpecker, another Canyon Wren, and myriad White-Throated Swifts flying around aerodynamically. 

   Once I arrived at the top, I met a park ranger that was doing research on the California Condors. She had satellite attached to walkie-talkie, and tried to see if there were any condors in the vicinity. Since condors are an endangered species, scientists put transmitters on the birds before releasing them, that way they can track them easily. According to the different frequencies on the walkie-talkie, the ranger could tell whether the condor is an adult or a juvenile. It was truly fascinating to prate with someone living my dream career. During the entire time that I was talking to her, she only received responses from two of the transmitters, but they were too distant to be visible. Once she left, I had lunch atop a big boulder with a view over the entire park. That way, if there was a condor, I'd be the first to know. However, even being perched atop this promontory didn't suffice to find a condor. I spent at least an hour under the blazing heat, in search for this New World vulture, but to no avail. I did however get amazing views of the White-Throated Swifts gobbling up gnats and other insects. I climbed down the boulder and relaxed a little bit in the shade, and finished my bagel. However, I was interrupted by a curious scrub-jay that was interested by my food. It came two-feet from me, almost as if it wasn't intimidated my me whatsoever. But once I moved my arm, it flew to the bush in front of me. He did this at least six times before he got the message. 

The hungry Western Scrub-Jay

   We finally resumed our hike, after having recuperated all of our energy. The heat didn't stop increasing as we descended. I was so hot, I didn't even bother looking for birds, I just wanted to get to the foot of the hill, where we could buy food and drinks, and lay under shade-providing trees. We finally reached the riparian portion of the hike, where there was more bird activity. An aggravated Bewick's Wren buzzed at me, and Lesser Goldfinches just watched. I was able to pish out a couple Bushtits, another Bewick's Wren, and a Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher. This was only the second time I've ever seen this species, so I appreciated the good views. Once I started hearing Acorn Woodpeckers again, I knew we were at the bottom. I was so happy. The heat was starting to get ridiculous. After buying an ice cream and a drink, I felt so much better. I birded the vicinity while my parents rested. In the morning, when I first birded this area, I found cool birds like a Nuttall's Woodpecker and a female Black-Headed Grosbeak. But in the afternoon, this area was dead. There were literally no birds whatsoever, other than the omnipresent Acorn Woodpeckers. 

Acorn Woodpecker

          I also got really good views of the holes they made in the tree trunk, which is called a granary, to store their acorns.

Acorn Woodpecker holes

   Before we were about to leave the park, this gray bird caught my eyes (ironic, right?). I looked to find a Wrentit! This bird isn't rare at all, I heard plenty that day while on my hike, but it is very difficult to get good views of this bird. They usually hide close to the ground, beneath the thick shrubs. So it was exciting to see one totally exposed and out in the open. 

Wrentit

  I thought after seeing the Wrentit that my day was over, but I was wrong. Right before we exited the park, this long and skinny bird runs across the road. I shouted out: "Roadrunner!!!!" My dad slammed on the brakes and we jumped out of the car to search for the bird. The only time I've ever seen a Greater Roadrunner was at Death Valley and at Joshua Tree National Parks. This was the first time I've ever seen one this far north. It was the perfect way to end the day. 

    Even though we left the park without seeing any California Condors, or getting any lifers, I was still pleased by this day. The roadrunner was definitely a great way to top off the day.

   But now came the real fun part: car birding. This is a true way to challenge yourself and really see how easily you can identify birds from afar. Since you're in a moving vehicle, you can't use your binoculars and see clearly. So you can only use your naked eye. On the two-hour drive back, I saw many different species, such as Western Bluebirds, Western Kingbirds, Red-Tailed Hawks, Say's Phoebes, Loggerhead Shrikes, Yellow-Billed Magpies, House Finches, Mourning Doves, Eurasian-Collared Doves, White-Tailed Kites, Red-Winged Blackbirds, Brewer's Blackbirds, Brown-Headed Cowbirds, European Starlings, Barn Swallows, and a Great Blue Heron.

Crisis in the Arctic

      Perhaps some of you readers have heard about this, but let me signal this to those who ignore the drastic situation. Right now, Shell (the oil company) is headed towards the far northern coast of Alaska to do some deep-sea drilling in important habitat for migrating birds. Drilling in the arctic is a suicide mission because oil and ice don't mix well, at all. So the oil company is pretty much asking for an oil spill, and deliberately destroying one the world's most important ecosystems. Without the arctic, birds that you see everyday in your yard, won't have any breeding grounds. Please help Audubon fight against this horrible and ridiculous drilling.
Read more about this at:
http://www.audublog.org/?p=8397

July 16th, 2012: Pillar Point Harbor

      This morning, I decided I wanted to see more shorebirds (after having been to Hayward Regional Shoreline the previous day), so I went to Pillar Point Harbor in Half Moon Bay, with my dad. Pillar Point Harbor is about 45 minutes south from San Francisco, but only 25 minutes from my house in Pacifica. As we were driving along Highway-1, the weather became rather dismal and dreary, which discouraged us from continuing on. But, instead of bailing and heading back home, we continued down the highway towards the harbor. We finally arrived, and the weather remained unfortunate: gray skies as far as the eye can see, fierce and chilling winds, and the insidious mist that slowly crept up on us to place little droplets of water on the lenses of my binoculars, scope, and camera. We weren't convinced we were going to see much. Then, a single White-Crowned Sparrow perched atop a shrub began singing its tiny heart out. If the weather didn't get to this little guy, then why should it bother us?

    We then walked on the gravel path next to an open and hilly forest. Chesnut-Backed Chickadees flew from tree to tree, and Black Phoebes chirped loudly from their exposed perches. We finally arrived at the beach portion of the harbor. Western Gulls and Brown Pelicans flew around the docked sailboats, disappearing when entering heavily misted and foggy areas, and reappearing much further away. Then, we began to notice darker gulls flying nearby, with white heads and red bills. These were the Heermann's Gulls that have recently arrived from their breeding grounds in Baja California. These are by far the most colorful gull species in the Bay Area, and probably my personal favorite species of local gull.

Heermann's Gull

     Not too far from the gull shown above, were several Whimbrels that walked along the beach's edge, probing the sand in search for some grub. Much like the Heermann's Gulls, the Whimbrels have recently just arrived from their breeding grounds, up in the far north arctic. Next to the Whimbrels were two Surfbirds that were also feeding on some grub that they found hiding in algae. 

Whimbrel in center, next to the two Surfbirds

      On adjacent rocks, Willets and other Whimbrels were foraging as well. The Willets were more numerous than the Whimbrels, but not by much. The Willets were however rowdier and much more boisterous. The Whimbrels would only make noise when they were in flight, but the Willets were calling whether they were foraging or flying. 

One of the many rambunctious Willets

Nearby, a single Black-Bellied Plover skittered on the sand, not exactly paying attention to the commotion caused by the overactive scolopacids.

Black-Bellied Plover

     Then, I noticed on the same rock where there was all the action a lonely sandpiper-like bird with its head tucked into its wing. What intrigued me was its gray, barred stomach, and yellow legs. Finally, it took its head out, and looked around. It had a dark gray line run right through its eye, and had a dark gray cap. I was very happy to say I was looking at a Wandering Tattler, because this was the first time I saw one in the Bay Area, and only the second time in my entire life. The first time I saw one was on the island of Kaua'i, on the south shore. To top it off, the ones I saw in Kaua'i were in nonbreeding plumage, whereas this one was in complete breeding plumage. It was probably the best find of the day for me. However, I am not saying that it is a rare bird for the Bay Area: during the right season, they are relatively easy to find, or so I've been told. I've just never looked in the right habitat during the right season.

Wandering Tattler

    After, leaving the tattler alone, I looked at the harbor with my scope and found several other species including Double-Crested Cormorants, Surf Scoters, and two Common Loons. Another interesting find were 4 female Red-Breasted Mergansers. These are rare birds for this area and have been sighted several times earlier this week, so I was happy to actually get a good look at them.

     

    Finally, on our way back to the car, we saw two Killdeer quickly running across the sand, away from us. A flock of 16 Western Sandpipers flew over the harbor and landed on the beach. They did this several times. Once I got in the car, I was about to look at the pictures, but I see a female Mallard fly off over the nearby salt marsh pond: a pleasant way to end the morning.

July 15th, 2012: Hayward Regional Shoreline

         After having started my summer job, I haven't had as much time to go birding as I would like. So when I found out I had an entire day off, after dropping off my sister at the Oakland Airport in the morning, I figured I should do some East Bay birding. I decided to go birding at Hayward Regional Shoreline in Hayward. My good friend Logan Kahle came along for the ride, as he was interested in going back to this location. This park consists of salt marshes, muddy shorelines, and dry fields.

Hayward Regional Shoreline entrance

     Mid-July is when the shorebirds begin to migrate down from their breeding grounds up north, to their winter ranges in the south. The muddy shorelines there attracted many different shorebird species: Marbled Godwits, Long-Billed Curlews, Short-Billed Dowitchers, Western Sandpipers, Willets, and Black-Bellied Plovers. However, after further scrutinization, we discovered a couple discreet and less conspicuous shorebird species amidst the gargantuan flock. The two other species of shorebirds, that were much less numerous, were a couple Red Knots, and a single Surfbird, both of which were lifers for me. These birds were difficult to find because they were rather distant and the lighting wasn't ideal, but we found them nonetheless!

Mixed flock of shorebirds
(click on picture for enlarged view)

     We continued down the path and started walking along the edge of the Bay's coast. As we looked at the salt marsh, a conspicuous white bird was perched atop a long wooden pole jutting out of the marsh. The White-Tailed Kite then took off and began flapping, but remained immobile. These raptors, along with several other species, hover to find unaware prey that they can pounce and feed on. Unfortunately, this one left "empty-taloned".

White-Tailed Kite

   Once we turned around, and faced the bayside of the park, sparse flocks of Western Sandpipers would quickly zip by and land on the mudflats with the large flock seen previously. Then, we began noticing terns. The majority of them were Forster's Terns, but this park is known for having a rather large Least Tern colony, so we kept our eyes peeled for a smaller tern with a shorter tail and a more erratic flight. Then, not 3-seconds later, we found our first Least Terns of the day, and the first ones ever for me. Some of them came close enough to us that we could see the white lores beneath the eyes and the yellow bill. This was truly a treat.

    As we continued down the path, we reached a decently long space of land that extended onto the bay, where we could get better views of shorebirds. And we sure did! The first shorebirds we got good looks of were two Ruddy Turnstones that dwarfed the adjacent Western Sandpipers.

One of the two Ruddy Turnstones

    Whenever the large turnstones flew from the rocks and returned, it would stir up the sandpiper flock and send the majority of the peeps flying.

Western Sandpipers

     Finally, we had to leave the park and head over to another park. But before we left, we were visited by a curious Northern Harrier that flew ten feet away from us. It didn't seem phased by us at all, and continued on its merry way, as if we were nonexistent.

Northern Harrier

That morning turned out to be rather fruitful, as I finished with 3 lifers: Red Knot, Surfbird, & Least Tern. Despite the extreme heat, this was an enjoyable way to spend my morning.

June 20th and 21st: Penultimate & last day of camp

      On Wednesday morning, we woke up at 6:30 to go to Harbor Island, an island about 4 miles from Hog Island. The plan was simple: go to Harbor Island, and bird. We arrived at 8:30, and were rowed by groups of 8 by dory onto the island. Some other people who had been on the island the previous day told us what birds to keep an eye out for. One of the birds they included was an Alder Flycatcher, a rather rare bird for the area. Fortunately for me, I was on the first dory ride, so I was able to bird while the others were being rowed in. Not two minutes after landing, Logan Kahle, my friend from San Francisco, and I heard a sound coming from the trees: wheeeAAAOOoooo. It sounded somewhat like a cat, but it wasn't a catbird (we wouldn't see that until five minutes later). Suddenly, Logan yelled out: "Empid!". For those of you who aren't familiar with this abbreviated term, an Empidonax (or Empid for short) is a genus of smaller flycatchers characterized by their two wing bars and overall small and petite frame. This was exciting, because the Alder Flycatcher is a species of Empidonax. We immediately set up all the scopes on this bird, and all binoculars were on the tree, searching for this surprisingly camouflaged bird. After extensive and thorough observing and studying, we determined that this Empid was indeed the Alder Flycatcher.

Alder Flycatcher

   The thing that makes this bird confusing is that it was split from another flycatcher species: the Willow Flycatcher. Before, these two species were lumped together as one species: Traill's Flycatcher. The only way to differentiate these two Empids is by their call. If you don't hear it singing or calling, it is impossible to identify the species. Fortunately for us, it was calling, which made ultimate identification possible.

    After the Empid hullabaloo, everyone had landed on the island and we could commence our day of birding. As we walked down the trail, we noticed flocks of Cedar Waxwings flying over. Flashes of yellow that would bolt from one tree to the next signaled the omnipresence of the Yellow Warblers, and the complex and varied songs of the Song Sparrows encompassed us. Then a dull & gray bird hopped onto an open and bare branch: it was a Gray Catbird. This bird is extremely common on the east coast and all of south of Canada. But I've never been to the east coast or Canada, so it was a lifer and I was excited. I was however the only one moved by this locally ubiquitous bird, for all of the campers were from the east coast. Then, we spotted a handsome White-Throated Sparrow chipping from a branch, but was almost immediately startled by an American Crow landing nearby. We found other birds such as Black-Throated Green Warblers, Common Yellowthroats, Yellow-Rumped Warblers, Purple Finches, and Mourning Doves. We stopped on the top of enormous boulders that have an amazing view of Muscongus Bay and many other islands. Some people set up their scopes and began to scan the horizon, in search of any interesting pelagic (oceanic) birds. Then, one camper said he found something but was unable to identify it. Logan was closest to him and looked through. When he answered, he sounded like he didn't believe himself: "Black Scoter?" This was another surprise, scoters should be up in Northern Canada nesting, but instead, a raft of 5 are swimming along calmly. Two different species of scoters on one trip, during the wrong time of the year?: how bizarre.

Terrible shot of the Black Scoters

   As we continued to hike down, we found other seabirds such as Black Guillemots, Laughing and Herring Gulls, Double-Crested Cormorants, and Common Eiders. Other land birds that we saw were American Goldfinches, Ospreys, and the highlight of the day (other than the Alder Flycatcher), a flock of Red Crossbills!

    We finally arrived at our initial point and had lunch. People went wading, called their parents, and just simply chilled. I did a little birding with Logan, and with our new friends Jack Beltz and Maia Paddock, both from Pennsylvania. The only interesting thing we found was the same Alder Flycatcher.

    Finally at 3:30, it was time to go and head back to Hog Island. On our way back, we found a juvenile Bald Eagle flying over the water, and fishing. It was a very cool sight considering the only Bald Eagle we had seen far was perched on a branch. Once on Hog Island, it was the same routine: we had dinner and headed towards a building where the nightly presentation was scheduled. That night's presentation was called "Conversations with the Stars" by Sarah Morris. She talked about the very faint, yet essential flight calls of migrating warblers. She was explained their purpose, why the calls of different species sound so similar, etc... Once again, another very interesting presentation. We went to bed at the same time as usual, but only after listing all the birds of the day and pulling pranks on Jack Beltz, poor guy.

      Rather than waking up at the usual 6:30, on the final day we woke up at 5:30 to attend a bird banding session with Sarah Morris and Scott Weidensaul. This was extremely exciting for me because I had never attended this kind of session, and have always dreamt of it. For those readers who aren't familiar with banding, it is when we catch wild birds with very delicate and gossamer nets (to ensure the bird's safety) and attach small metal rings around their legs with a serial code written on it. Banding is a very important part of ornithology and for studying migration. It helps keep track of the life span of a bird, the yearly route it takes when migrating from north to south and vice versa, and even to find out if it's the same bird that nests at the same location every year. This technique changed ornithology drastically, but in a good way. Anyways, that morning we were going to perform target birding, as opposed to passive birding. Target birding is when an audio recording of the bird is played, to attract a certain species of bird. Passive birding is when you set up the mist net, and band any species of bird that gets caught in it. The first bird call they played was that of a Golden-Crowned Kinglet. Unfortunately, the bird responded but did not fly into the net. Scott set up a different net several yards away and played the call of a Yellow-Rumped Warbler. Almost immediately, the bird flew into the net, as if on cue. The bird was retrieved and brought to the banding station where they attached a ring to its leg, made some measurements, and finally released it.

Breeding male Yellow-Rumped "Myrtle" Warbler

    The next bird we tried to attract was a Black-Throated Green Warbler. This bird took a little longer to fly into the net, but eventually and unknowingly made himself the next bird we banded. This little, and seemingly harmless, warbler was in fact a vicious and feisty fellow. It incessantly nipped the instructor's fingers.

The pernicious Black-Throated Green Warbler

Black-Throated Green Warbler

    Unfortunately, this exciting and enlightening banding session had to end eventually. However, the most exciting part of the day hadn't yet begun. That day was the day that we finally headed to Eastern Egg Rock, where the established puffin population is nesting. We got to witness the fruitful results of Project Puffin in person. I was so excited. We all got on the boat, binoculars in hand, and ready to bird. As we were on our way towards the island, we were all scanning the horizon, hoping to find some interesting pelagic birds, such as Greater Shearwaters or Wilson's Storm-Petrels. Unfortunately, none were found. Finally, we saw the island and we all began to cheer, as if we were stranded out at sea, and we hadn't seen land in weeks. As we approached the island, we began to see our first clown-billed, harlequin Atlantic Puffins. These alcids are truly one of a kind and were a treat to watch.

Our first Atlantic Puffins!

    Once we landed on the island, we are greeted by the scientists that are staying there for the summer. However, we were also greeted, or rather mobbed, by the local nesters. Common Terns began to dive-bomb us as we approached them too closely. Once everybody was on the island, we walked towards the center cabin that could hardly fit 5 people. The scientists gave us a rundown of what we were going to do that day. Everybody was going to be put in blinds, by a certain species birds' nests and take notes of what we saw. I was put in the blind by the Roseate Terns' nests. Roseate Terns are endangered birds, so it's great that they are nesting on Eastern Egg Rock.

Roseate Tern couple

    Other birds nesting all over the place were Common Terns, their nests were so plentiful, that it was hard to take step without almost stepping on tern eggs.

Common Tern Eggs

Common Tern

   The third and final species of tern that nests on this island, and the least populous species on the island, is the Arctic Tern. To tell this species apart easily from the Common Tern, look at the bill. Common Terns have black tips, whereas Arctic Terns have the integrality of their bill red.

Arctic Tern

    I was cramped in an individual blind on a remote part of the island, far away from any of my fellow campers. But this meant that I was the only one that actually got good views of the Roseate Terns, as they were primarily on my side of the island.

   On my faraway edge of the island, I was frequently being harassed by the same male Common Tern. He would fly out of the nest, and dive-bomb my hand whenever I stuck it out. He also nipped my hat several times, and defecated on me quite a few times as well. I wasn't a big fan of his.

The evil Common Tern during an attack.

    After shooing the mean tern away, I noticed something black-and-white flying really quickly over the water 100 yards from my blind. I put my binoculars up to my eyes and shouted out: "Razorbills!" The Razorbill is an alcid closely related to the extinct Great Auk. There are a couple of these birds nesting on the island, but I only saw them over the water, rather distant.

An extremely grainy shot of the two Razorbills I saw.

     While watching the Razorbills flying quickly over the water and passing by the island, I noticed a brownish blob on the rocks. I looked closer and was astonished to find my lifer Ruddy Turnstone! This little sandpiper-like bird should have been nesting up in the arctic, but decided to hang around there for the summer. When it flew away, I wondered if anybody else had seen this bird. As it turns out, no one else saw it!

      Puffins were everywhere you looked, they were either swimming around, or flying, or waddling around on the rocks. Another alcid that was very frequently seen was the Black Guillemot. These little guys would always land on the island, but terns always attempted to thwart them by cawing in their faces. They would eventually succumb to the harassment and fly away, but reluctantly, as they would always fly back five minutes later.

Black Guillemot chilling when terns aren't around to scare it off.

Finally, another common nester on the island is the Laughing Gull. Their calls were everywhere you turned. They were loud, aggravating, and absolutely enchanting all at once.

The startled Laughing Gull isn't laughing anymore.

  Unfortunately, this amazing trip had to end. We all got onto the boat and waved goodbye to the dedicated scientists that spend countless amounts of hours doing research on these wonderful birds.

However, it wasn't just the trip to Eastern Egg Rock that had to end, it was our last day on Hog Island as campers. It was pretty incredible, and to celebrate its ending, we had a lobster feast. As I have never eaten a lobster (west coast swag), Scott Weidensaul taught me how to crack and tear and devour this witty and armored crustacean. Not many people can say they had a famous author teach them how to eat a lobster. To top off the delicious dinner, the chef made some apt puffin éclairs. They were incredibly delicious!

Puffin Éclair!

  However, before heading off to bed, I decided to stop by the famous Northern Parula nest that I have failed to mention previously. This warbler creates its nest by fabricating a cup out of the Old Man's Beard Moss. Its chicks were impossible to see, but you could sometimes hear them cheeping.

Northern Parula nest

Northern Parula

     That week was incredible. I learned so much beneficial information about birds, birding, and ornithology. The faculty was incomparable, the food was delicious, and the setting was stunning. I highly recommend this camp to any teen interested in birding or nature. 

Our incredible team!

June 18 & 19: First and second day of camp

      The first day of camp began very early: 5:45 AM! We woke up this early because we had an early bird walk to attend. Birds tend to be more active at dawn and at dusk, because they forage and sing at these times. So to hear and find any birds, we had to get up when they did. I went in the intermediate group, as I do consider myself to be a fairly good and knowledgable birder, but not quite good enough to call myself an expert. Anyways, along our short walk we found several birds: Golden-Crowned Kinglets, Northern Flickers, American Crows, Blue Jays, Red-Breasted Nuthatches, and some Yellow-Rumped Warblers. After the hike, we had breakfast, followed by an ornithology class with a Zoology teacher from Canisius College, Sarah Morris. Sarah was a very sweet and very active teacher, meaning she knew her stuff, loved the stuff she taught, and taught in a fun and interactive way. She managed to teach a semester's-worth of ornithology in just 2 hours, very impressive!

    After the ornithology class, it was time to get on the island's boat (the Snowgoose III), and take a tour of the island's vicinity. This was exciting because the boat was a big part of the camp, and this was the first time we used it to actually do some birding. Once we started moving, we started seeing birds like Common Eiders, Double-Crested Cormorants, and Black Guillemots.

Common Eiders and Double-Crested Cormorant drying its wings.
(click picture for better view)

The ubiquitous Laughing Gulls soared over us and let out their calls that sound like a person laughing with a very high-pitched voice. Then, after 10 minutes, we reached the side of Hog Island that is not visible to us from the camp site, so we kept our eyes open for different birds. And lo and behold, we found ourselves a different bird: an adult Bald Eagle guarding its 6-foot deep nest up on top of a spruce tree. This majestic and symbolic bird captivated everybody on the boat, including the counselors and instructors of the camp.

Bald Eagle standing guard.

   The next new bird of the trip was a gorgeous Common Loon in full breeding plumage paddling on the water very slowly and diving underwater every five minutes. This was the best view I've ever gotten of a Common Loon with its dichromatic plumage. The usual view of this bird that I have in San Francisco is when it's in its non-breeding plumage, where it's overall gray and drab (not as stunning).

Common Loon in breeding plumage.

   After the loon, we found a rather unusual bird for Muscongus Bay this time of year. Twenty feet from the boat was a Surf Scoter couple. This diving duck is found off both coasts of the United States and Canada during winter, and breeds during the summer in the lakes of Northern Canada. So this was an unusual sighting for this time of the year.

     On some little islands of rock in the middle of the bay were lazy and immobile Harbor Seals. Myriad Herring Gulls and cormorants covered the adjacent little islands.

Harbor Seals on the sand banks.

Herring Gulls and Double-Crested Cormorants nearby.

     Finally, our boat tour ended after 2 hours. Fortunately for us, nobody got seasick from the rocking and swaying of the boat. Then again, we were fairly close to shore and there was hardly any current. 

Hog Island

   We then had lunch, followed by the rest of the ornithology class with Sarah Morris. After the class, we took a short hike in the forest and focused on the local biodiversity and avifauna. This lasted about an hour and a half. Unfortunately, no birds of interest were found. We finally had dinner, followed by the daily evening presentation. That night's presenetation was done by Tom Johnson, an old camper of the Coastal Maine Bird Studies for Teens. As he frequently goes on seabird research stints, he is quite familiar with the seabirds of the Atlantic. So his lecture was about the different birds that spend a certain time of the year in the North Atlantic. Finally, it was time to go to bed, so that a new day of birding and excitement could begin.

     On the second day of camp, we didn't wake up as early, only 6:30 AM. The plan for that day was to go birding on the mainland. This was where I knew I'd get most of my lifers. Our first stop was this remote road lined with a deciduous forest where a cacophony of bird calls and a melody of bird songs overpowered the entire atmosphere. Thanks to my good friend Logan Kahle, I was able to identify a lot of the birds by call, something that I need to improve on. But hearing the birds didn't suffice, I wanted to actually see the birds, with my eyes. I realized that this was surprisingly difficult in that kind of habitat. The first birds we were able to see were Black-Capped Chickadees, they appeared to be everywhere we looked. After walking several yards without seeing any birds, our conselor Doug Wentzel decided we should use playback to lure a bird out of its hideout. The first bird we attempted to attract was the beautiful Canada Warbler. This wood-warbler that winters in South America has a gray back and necklace around its neck. It has a yellow throat, underbelly and eye-ring; a truly ravishing bird. After the first playback, we didn't receive any response. Then after the second, a bird deep in the forest reciprocated the song played from the iPod. Then, a closer one responded. Finally, a single bird popped out the thickets of leaves and perched on a branch for a brief moment. It then began to cavort about incessantly, making it near impossible to look at through the binoculars. Then, a second one popped out and did the same. This was exciting because it was my first lifer of the day! Then, our group walked a little further, when suddenly we heard a ghostly call coming from above us. We looked up to discover a Common Loon flying above us. This was interesting because we were at an intersection called Loon Way. How serendipitous! The next bird we lured with playback was a Northern Waterthrush. This bird was easy to attract as it hopped onto a branch in plain view as soon as the song began. This bird however wasn't a lifer for me, earlier this year I found a vagrant at Lake Merced that had been sighted several times before. This was still a treat for me though because it was the first time I saw this wood-warbler in its regular range. As we continued to walk down, we saw other birds such as Brown Creepers and Black-and-White Warblers. The other lifers I got on this road were two Eastern Phoebes and two Red-Eyed Vireos, something like Noah's Ark.

     Our next stop on the mainland was by far the best stop. It was this nature preserve called the Damarriscotta River Association. It has two main habitats: fields and marshland. Immediately as I stepped out of the car, I saw dozens of Tree Swallows flying over us, consuming flies they were able to snatch. We headed down to the main view and set up our scopes.

Damarriscotta River Association

   The first birds we saw were flocks of Bobolinks that landed in the field in front of us. These icterids are related to blackbirds, orioles and grackles. The males have black wings, tail, and face. They have a white rump and back. But the unique part of this bird is its bright yellow nape, which makes it a very beautiful bird to watch. Other birds we saw are American Goldfinches, Yellow Warblers, my lifer Chimney Swift, Ospreys, Turkey Vultures, Canada Geese, Mallards, and a single Pied-Billed Grebe in the middle of the marsh. We also heard a single Sora. As we continued, we got better views of the Bobolinks and Yellow Warblers. Then, I noticed an orange-breasted bird with a black head and back on top of a bush. I called everyone over because this was our first Baltimore Oriole of the trip, and the first one of my life. This was a target bird of this trip for me, so I was very excited. As we approached the reeds, we noticed bevies of Red-Winged Blackbirds and Common Grackles, other icterids related to the Bobolink. After 45 minutes, we headed back up to where we started, to have lunch. Once I finished my wrap, I decided to bird the vicinity of the area where we ate. A cool sight was watching the Tree Swallows enter and leave their nest boxes. 

Tree Swallow peeking out of its nest box.

Then, I found this blue bird perched on a branch with a rufous belly and throat. Evidently, its overall color gives its name away. I was looking at a male Eastern Bluebird. It is different from the Western Bluebird in that its rufous belly extends to its throat, whereas the Western only has rufous on its belly, and has blue on its throat and chest. This was a very cool find, but not as cool as finding two of its fledglings nearby flying around playfully.

 

    Once we left the Damarriscotta River Association (or DRA), we headed towards Clarry Hill, a blueberry barren. A blueberry barren is a barren space of, more or less, flat land where blueberries are grown (hence its obvious name).

Clarry Hill

      The target bird for this stop was the Upland Sanpiper, a scolopacid that resides in open fields and often perches atop big rocks. Unfortunately, we left unsuccessful. However, we did find the two other target birds: Savannah Sparrow, and Vesper Sparrow (which was a lifer for me). We also did find the only Common Raven of the trip. These corvids weren't as common as they are here in the Bay.

   We arrived back at Hog Island around 5:30 PM, and had dinner at 6:00 PM. That night's evening presentation was called "The Magic of Bird Song" by Donald Kroodsma. For those of you who don't know, Don is a well known ornithologist that specifies in bird calls and songs. He frequently records songs and studies their sonograms. In this presentation, he talked about sonograms and how the fluctuations represent the song's variation. This was one of the most interesting presentations of the entire trip. Once it was over, we went to bed exhausted, but excited for the next day of adventure.