June 24th, 2013: Amsterdam Birding

          Today marks the first day of my month-long excursion to Europe with my dad. I will first be spending a week in Basel, Switzerland, where my aunt and uncle have an apartment. Then we will spend approximately a week and a half in Southern France, more specifically in Nice, the Provence Region and the renowned Camargue National Reserve. Finally, we will spend our last week in the Basque Country, up in the Pyrenees, where much of my family resides. A month is a long time to be out of the country, which also means a long time to go birding in a region that I’ve never birded before. Although I’ve visited France many times in the past, I’ve never visited as an active birder, which meant that I was going to encounter many new and unfamiliar species. But that just made this adventure that much more enticing.

         However, before I may begin my journey in Switzerland, I was in for a 7 hour layover in Amsterdam. Rather than waiting, bored out of our silly French minds, we decided to take the tram to the city of Amsterdam and play tourist. It also offered an opportunity to ease my way into European birding and familiarize myself with some of the common species. As we took the train, it made several stops before we stepped off, and while it stopped, I held my binoculars up and scanned the vicinity. The first species I was able to successfully identify was in fact a lifer: the Eurasian Jackdaw, a species of small corvid.  These squat and relatively tiny birds were posted all along the roofs of buildings, much like would American Crows back in the states. It was a wonderful way to begin my birding in Europe.

Once we arrived in Central Amsterdam, we walked out of the train station and we were surrounded by the hustling and bustling of this busy city. This disappointed me and discouraged me from birding. But I had left my backpack in a baggage locker at the airport, so I had nowhere to put my binoculars away, so I decided to hold onto them. This was a fantastic decision because I learned that in spite of the great number of boisterous people, the birds were nevertheless active and out! I soon noticed some Herring Gulls and Black-headed Gulls swirling around over the myriad canals that flow through this city, reminiscent of Venice, Italy. Herring Gulls are regular winter visitors in the Bay Area, but Black-headed Gulls only rarely occur in North America, and they always show up on the East Coast. So this species was new for me, but not a lifer, since I remember seeing it three years ago in Paris, France. This bird’s scientific name is Croicocephalus Ridibundi, which roughly translates to Color-Headed Laugher. Croico means color and cephalus means head in Greek. Ridibundi comes from the Greek word meaning to laugh. This scientific name was extremely well-chosen because these birds have obvious brown-black heads, hence the colored-head, and when they called, it did in fact sound like someone laughing hysterically. In French, their common name is Mouette Rieuse, which also translates to Laughing Gull (not to be confused with North America’s LaughingGull, Larus Atricilla).

Black-headed Gull
(notice the brownish head, the light gray mantle,
and the reddish bill)

            Next to the bickering flock of gulls were domestic type Rock Pigeons, but amongst them was a typical sight in Europe, a CommonWood Pigeon. These large and stocky pigeons are a much more elegant and appreciated species than the regular pigeons that people call “Rats with Wings”, which made this bird an exciting find for me! However, this species lost its splendor once I began seeing it everyday, wherever I went. But they remained beautiful nonetheless.

Common Wood Pigeon
(notice the white and teal patch on neck,
the purplish breast, and the white knob
on bill)

          More species that I noticed were Eurasian Blackbirds, related to thrushes of the family Turdidae and not our blackbirds of the family Icteridae, Eurasian Blue-Tits, and Common Swifts that swished and swooshed around swiftly, gobbling up the gnats and other insects that they found. We walked down one of the canals where families of Mallards socialized, Eurasian Coots relaxed on the thick ropes that prevented the boats from drifting downstream, and a single Mute Swan preened its long, ivory-white feathers.

Eurasian Coot
(notice the entirely white front)

Female Eurasian Blackbird
(notice the brownish body and the yellow bill)

Mute Swan
(notice the orange bill and the black knob)

          We then left the rather large streets bordering the canals, and headed down the narrower streets in between the buildings. These rustic and old-style buildings were pleasant to walk down, and really show how Europe is an ancient continent full of history. During my time in Europe, I hope to not only appreciate its wildlife but also its history by noticing the architecture and its culture. But for now, I was too eager to bird, so those factors became secondary. As we walked down these streets, there were birds such as Eurasian Magpies, once lumped with North America’s Black-billed Magpie, Eurasian Jays, a Short-toed Treecreeper, similar to our Brown Creeper, and the ubiquitous House Sparrows, a common sight both in North America and Europe.  

        This basically concludes our brief stint in Amsterdam. We would’ve stayed longer, but we didn’t want to arrive too late at the airport and miss our flight, which would have ruined our entire vacation. One final thing that I noticed was that throughout much of the city, on any glass surface, were stickers of raptor silhouettes, notably of falcons. This practice prevents songbirds from unknowingly flying into the glass and maiming themselves. I’ve seen this in the states before, but not all that often, but as I traveled throughout Europe, these stickers appeared to be more and more frequent. It’s nice to know that the people care about their local avifauna and will help protecting it.