As most of you birders have probably realized, migration has really picked up: vagrants are appearing all over the place, and the northern breeders are flying south to their wintering grounds. Though school and homework has halted much of my birding, I nevertheless managed to experience this incredible phenomenon. This past weekend, I was looking outside with my binoculars at some House Finches and Dark-eyed Juncos, resident birds that spend all year here. White-crowned Sparrows flew into the yard to join the feeding frenzy. These were the "Nuttall's" subspecies, that are also residents, unlike the migratory "Puget" or "Gambell's" subspecies, that breed further up north. Suddenly, I noticed with my binoculars a different bird. This sparrow species is also migratory: it breeds from British Columbia up to Alaska, and winters from Washington state, down to northern Baja California. This species is the Golden-crowned Sparrow, a bird that comes to my yard every year, and in large numbers. This one was the first of the season for me, so this was a tell-tale sign that migration was really picking up in my neighborhood. Earlier that week, I had a nonbreeding Clay-colored Sparrow that socialized with the White-crowned Sparrows. This rare bird for the coast breeds in central Canada, migrates through the midwest, and goes to Mexico, where it spends its winter. This bird occurs in the Bay Area annually, but in low numbers. This year however had been a good year for them, with over two sighted in San Francisco, another sighting in San Mateo County (other than mine), and a sighting on the East Bay. Anyways, all I was saying was that the sighting of this rarity announced migration to me. The arrival of the Golden-crowned Sparrows was another sign of migration.
The following day, the Golden-crowned Sparrows were in much bigger numbers, with over 20 individuals. However, in this mixed flock of sparrows and finches, I noticed a much smaller bird. It seemed smaller than a Zonotrichia, but about the same size and shape as a Melospiza. I knew immediately that this was the first arrival of a Lincoln's Sparrow in my backyard.
Lincoln's Sparrow (notice the buffy tones overall, and the fine streakings on the face and breast.) |
This individual winters in my backyard every year. I see him so often now that he's deserving of a name. I decided to cleverly name him Abe (after our 16th president, Abraham Lincoln).
After finding my old friend, I kept on looking deep into the shrubbery hoping to find another migrant. I didn't want to spoil myself so I decided to put my binoculars down. But as I was doing so, I noticed a very light, almost rufous-colored sparrow. I put my binoculars back onto my face, and fixed myself on this sparrow. Unfortunately, this bird was hiding behind a clump of leaves on my olive tree, making it impossible to confirm identification. I had an idea of what it may have been, but there was no way of knowing for sure until it hopped into view. However, luck was on my side, and the bird flew to an open-ish perch, allowing me to get a decent view of this bird. It was a White-throated Sparrow, an eastern bird that is uncommon on the west coast, but nonetheless found each year. This was only the second time that I've seen this species in my yard. It may perhaps have been the same individual, but last year's bird arrived much later in the season. In fact, I hadn't heard of any recent reports of this bird in the Bay Area, so I called my friend Logan Kahle (another incredible Bay Area teen birder), and asked him if this bird is early. Indeed, this bird is a little early, and he said that it may be the first record for California this season. I found this to be very interesting, and extremely cool! Having California's first record of a White-throated Sparrow in my backyard is pretty awesome!
White-throated Sparrow (notice the bold, white supercilium, with the yellow lores, and the obvious white throat.) |
Migration is an amazing and complex phenomenon that stirs up much excitement for birders. If you haven't gone out birding, and experienced this incredible happening, it really is a shame because there is nothing like it. Who knows, maybe you'll find some great birds right in your own backyard, like me!