This day was by far the best of the entire camp, because that was the day we searched for the elusive, beautiful, and symbolic Elegant Trogon. This bird is the symbol of southeast Arizona birding. People will travel from all over the continent to try to find this magnificent trogon. Unfortunately, this bird isn't easy to find, and is very localized. Fortunately, we were at Camp Chiricahua, with leaders who have unsurpassable ornithological knowledge. So we didn't let its surreptitiousness discourage us from finding it. We began walking down the road where they are usually found. When we began, the only birds we saw and heard were Hutton's Vireos, Bridled Titmouses, Dusky-capped Flycatchers, and Mexican Jays, to name a few. Sulphur-bellied Flycatchers squeaked from all around, almost as if somebody had left a bunch of rubber ducks in the hands of amused children. Finally, after walking down the road for about half an hour, we heard a loud sound coming from a nearby tree. "Bork, bork, bork!"This was the call of the Elegant Trogon. We all went completely silent, and tiptoed toward the call. Trogons are extremely skittish birds, so we were very careful as to not frighten or disturb it. After all, when birding, the birds always come first. Then, Louise Zemaitis pointed and said: "There it is." We all quietly looked to where she was pointing, and there it was. This red bellied, green backed, and coppery tailed bird was perched on a branch in complete view. Everybody got outstanding views of this bird. In the previous years of Camp Chiricahua, they rarely got good views of this bird, usually just quick glimpses of the bird flying through the canopy. But we were fortunate enough to have this bird pose in open view. Michael set up the spotting scope on the bird, and we all got even better views of it. I also managed to digiscope and take a couple pictures from through the scope.
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| Adult Male Elegant Trogon (notice the the red skin around the eye, the white breast band, and the red belly. It's missing feathers on its belly because it is molting, meaning that this is an adult) |
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| Adult Male Elegant Trogon (notice the green back, the dark face, and the rictal feathers around its yellow beak) |
We spent about 45 minutes staring at this bird. It flew from perch to perch, but still remained in view. We then decided it was time to leave the bird and continue walking down. We reached a trail that led to the forest, and decided to follow it. We arrived at a clearing where we had an awe-inspiring view of Cave Creek Canyon.
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| Cave Creek Canyon |
As we headed back, we heard the same "borking" that we heard earlier, and assumed it was the same individual. But as we searched for it, we stumbled upon a juvenile bird. The juvenile of this species looks surprisingly different than from the adult. It lacks the red belly, green back, and dark mask. The only thing that they really share in common is the coppery tail.
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| Juvenile Elegant Trogon (sex unknown) (notice the white feathers around the eye, the brown back, and the coppery tail) |
After this incomparable morning, we were disappointed to learn that it was about to rain. Let me correct myself, that it was about to storm. It poured for about an hour and we were all forced to wait inside of our cabins for the rain to let up. After it rained, we had lunch and relaxed. We had been hiking nonstop since the beginning of camp, so we decided to give our legs a rest, and sat sluggishly in front of the feeders. The only interesting bird we came across during our hiatus was a Common Ground-Dove, a lifer! I first noticed the bird when I saw something land on the ground behind some stones, and it had reddish underwings, meaning it could've been either a Common Ground-Dove or an Inca Dove. I slowly walked over and found out.
After our afternoon of lounging, it started getting dark. We ate dinner really quickly because the leaders had planned an owling excursion for us right after. We went owling with Dave Jasper, a renowned birder in Arizona, and the previous leader of Camp Chiricahua. We drove down the same road that we walked down that morning, and made several stops. At each stop, we exited the vehicles and listened for any hooting. At the first stops, we didn't hear anything, so Dave used playback to attempt to cajole the owls into responding, and letting us know if they were around. Unfortunately, this coaxing proved to be fruitless. Finally, at the last stop he had planned for us to go to, he played the call, and we got a response. Knowing that we would all get excited, he told us to not celebrate just yet. He turned on his flashlight, and pointed it up in the tree. He had just showed us a Whiskered Screech Owl. That individual was very cooperative, and let us get amazing views of it.
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| Whiskered Screech-Owl |
Once it flew off, we hopped back into the vans and drove to another spot in search of another owl species. We played its call, and it almost immediately responded. The bird was a Western Screech-Owl, a much more common and widespread species in North America. The views of this bird weren't as good as those of the previous strigid, but they were still good enough for us the discern the bird.
The differentiation between Western Screech-Owl and Whiskered Screech-Owl may seem near impossible to a novice birder, but with practice and thorough scrutinization, identification becomes possible. The first obvious key factor to include is range. The WESO is found throughout most of the western United States, whereas the WHSO is confined to southeast Arizona. However, their ranges do overlap, and when visiting that region, other field marks are necessary. The bill on the WESO is much darker than that of the WHSO. The WHSO has a much lighter bill. One more field mark is the streaking on the stomach. The streaks on the WESO are strictly vertical, and only go in one direction, like little straight lines. However, the streaks of the WHSO are both vertical and horizontal. The major streaks are vertical like those of the WESO, but on these prominent streaks are little barb-like streaks that cut the major streaks horizontally. Another obvious way to tell them apart is by call, but if the bird is silent, that field mark becomes futile.
After the successful hour of owling, we all went to sleep, as we were all exhausted from the amazing birding that day.
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