This year’s event, for me, was the best ever, largely due to Liz’s being able to attend after an eleventh hour cancellation by a group at her work. She and I wound up spending a couple of days after the festival birding, photographing, relaxing, adventuring, and just generally having a ball.

Topping the list of great moments was the audience I was granted with a Swainson’s Warbler the Monday after the festival concluded. I went out prospecting for this famously hard-to-see species on a dreary morning with intermittent rain. Along a secondary road near Babcock State Park I found a patch of rhododendron where at least two Swainson’s were singing strongly. One of those was uncooperative, but the second provided me with one of the more thrilling avian encounters I’ve ever had.

In most of its breeding range, Swainson’s Warbler is a bird of wet woods, canebrakes, swamps, and river bottoms. But in the southern Appalachians, there is a population of Swainson’s that is closely tied to rhododendron thickets. Rhododendrons, for most, conjure up images of horticultural beauty and gentility, as their flowers are familiar garden centerpieces.

This, I believe (and by all means, please correct my botany if it’s wrong, as it frequently is), is Rhododendron catawbiense an early-blooming relative of Rhododendron maximum, the West Virginia state flower. R. maximum cloaks the rocky banks of creeks with a dense blanket of dark green.

It’s pretty, certainly, but it is also thick.

So thick in fact, that it has a gloomy, almost foreboding aspect at times. I’m sure one would quickly learn to dread rhododendrons, were one to have to traverse or clear any significant amount of them.

No wonder Swainson’s Warblers and humans rarely meet.

Though my meeting with this bird lasted only a few minutes, time seemed to slow and stretch. I’ve seen the species a generous handful of times, but I have never seen it so well. I was struck by its subtle color and the way its railroad spike of a bill blended with its flat crown to give it an anvil-headed look. I marveled at its long pink toes, its big black eyes, and of course, by its ringing, rolling, liquid voice.

That voice, and this bird, are in many ways, a personification (birdification?) of the rhododendrons. Superbly adapted to the niche these shrubs provide, the warbler is as at home here as a clownfish in a coral reef, a giraffe in an acacia thicket, or a flea on the back of a dog. The key, apparently, is a tangled understory but a relatively open forest floor, where these warblers spend most of their time foraging with a unique, shuffling gate.

Once the breeding season is over, Swainson’s Warblers take up residence in similarly dense understory in forests of the West Indies and nearby portions of the Yucatán and Honduras. They especially favor the Blue Mountains of Jamaica, a suitably exotic winter residence. But everywhere, throughout their lives, Swainson’s are birds that earn the designation, “seldom seen.” Our time with them is measured in seconds, not in hours.

The bird soon returned to his tangled lair and I to my less claustrophobic habitat. I noticed that I was out of breath–I don’t think I’d inhaled or exhaled very often while the bird was around–and trembling just a little with the excitement of seeing a very special ghost. I’ll always be grateful for the chance to have gotten to know this mysterious and wonderful creature just a little bit better.

While I certainly intend to keep putting up blog posts when I have something that fits better here than elsewhere, if you’re interested in keeping up with what I’m doing, for now, Facebook is where I am. There’s a badge at the upper left of the page that you can click to find my personal Facebook profile and send me a friend request.

There’s also a badge where you can become a fan of Peterson Field Guides and I would appreciate it very much if you would do that. At the moment, the PFG fan page is, well, it’s me. But only in that I’m responsible for posting content there and serving as moderator. Like all things social media, it is meant to encourage interaction. And in only a week and a half, we’re already seeing a great response, with fans sharing their own photos and experiences.

Of course, I’m honored that the people at Houghton Mifflin Harcourt have asked me to take on the PFG fan page. It’s an opportunity to share a lot of great content from the Peterson vaults, create my own, and to have other interested naturalists share theirs. I’m especially pleased that we’ll be covering the vast range subjects of natural history that are featured in Peterson guides, though you can expect that birds will feature most prominently. I know it will be a big opportunity for me to learn, which is wonderful.

As an example of the kind of things I’ve been doing on the PFG page, below is a video I made and posted last week. It’s just a quick sequence of calling Spring Peepers, but I think it’s nice, especially if you haven’t been out and actually watched this classic sound being produced.

You can also click here to go to the HD version of the video on Facebook itself. It’s much better looking in HD, to say the least.

So, that’s where I am these days. I don’t know if six months from now Facebook will be over and we’ll all have moved on, but at the moment–most of the time–it feels like the place to be.

But please, keep this blog on your RSS subscriptions…or check back every once in a while, if you don’t do RSS. You never know when I’ll have something that only fits here. Thanks for stopping by!

Bill Thompson III (aka Bill of the Birds) asked me to take on a rather deadline-intensive project: collecting photos from a bevy of volunteer photographers that were dispatched to all corners of the festival and organizing them on the spot into a presentation that would serve as a pleasant recap and farewell at the close of the festival Sunday morning.

As a result, I didn’t get as much sleep as I would have liked between Saturday evening, when I received well over 1300 images, and Sunday morning, when I showed just under 380 in 25 minutes. Mind you, I’m not complaining–events like this are built on sleep deprivation and I had surely among the lightest burden of any of those who helped out.

As the photographers gave me their memory cards, I downloaded their pictures to my laptop. Meanwhile, I took each photographer out to the front of Hoover Auditorium and shot a quick series of portraits of him or her in ambient light. I used the photos as a list of visual credits at the end of the presentation.

I think these photos are a reminder of one of the most basic pleasures of photography: the chance to regard the face of a fellow human at leisure. I know many people are uncomfortable being photographed, photographers often especially (and paradoxically) so, so I try really hard to present them in ways that are flattering, yet still accurate. I think they all look great. Well, Geoff Heeter is kind of in his own category, but that’s no surprise.  ;-)

Here they are, in alphabetical order.

Dana Bollin

Ernie Cornelius

Geoff Heeter

Ethan Kistler

Judy Kolo-Rose

Loopy Lewis

Bernie Master

Ric McArthur

Liz McQuaid

Deb Neidert

Renee Tressler

Of course, I owe a huge debt of gratitude to all the photographers and to the MBS staff that helped coordinate. I’m also sorry that I let Sherrie Duris get away before I got a photo of her. Looking forward to seeing you all in 2011!

Atlantic Puffins at (Machias) Seal Island

You don’t need a fancy camera to take a puffin photo like this one–you just need to be in the right spot. I took the above shot with a compact, point & shoot stye camera. And you can, too, if you want. Or you can just enjoy one of North America’s great natural spectacles, right in front of you.

I’m looking for a couple more people to join me in August for a wonderful week-long getaway to the Bay of Fundy region, just Down East of Maine. Of course, the trip is built around a visit to Seal Island, also known as Machias Seal Island, which features the most enjoyable seabird colony experience I have ever had, with the sole exception of Antartica, a much more difficult and expensive trip, to say the least. 

It’s loaded with gawky but gorgeous Atlantic Puffins and dapper Razorbills, with the occasional Common Murre thrown in for good measure. There are also Common and Arctic terns, plus plenty of Leach’s Storm-Petrels, though these last generally remain unseen in their burrows. 

While a number of sites could boast a similar species list and some are larger, what makes Seal Island the very best is the chance to land–weather permitting, of course, but it usually does in early August–and view these birds from blinds set only feet away from the birds. It’s not uncommon to hear the pitter-pat of puffin feet as they go marching across ther blind’s roof!

Seal Island is certainly the high point, but it’s got stiff competition from the rest of the birding in the Grand Manan/Bay of Fundy region, not to mention whale watching (possibly including spectacular North Atlantic Right Whales), scenery, and local seafood. And don’t worry–if you’re one of those unfortunates who doesn’t like lobster, there’s plenty of other great food to keep you happy and healthy and enjoying the trip.

Time is of the essence here: the trip begins August 8th in Bangor, Maine and ends there on Agust 14th. If you’d like to join a small, aimiable group please contact me ASAP–we need signups by July 1.

For more information, you can e-mail me at jeffgyr@mac.com, or call or e-mail Karen Turner at the Field Guides, Inc., office (kturner@fieldguides.com / 800-728-4953). I may be a bit out-of-internet the next day or two, so Karen may be the better bet for now.

Thanks for considering the trip, or for passing the info along to anyone you know who might be.

Male Wilson’s Warbler, San Mateo County, CA

Here’s a shot I would describe as a likable miss. It’s not very sharp (light was incredibly low, requiring slow shutter speeds) and there’s too much obstructing vegetation. But that vegetation, especially the way its pink and green colors complement the yellow and black warbler, is also what makes the shot worth sharing, I think.

For the ornithologically inclined among you, I’ll pass along something my host in Central California, the estimable Alvaro Jaramillo, pointed out to me: Look how golden the forecrown is on this bird–much more so than the plain yellow frontlet shown by birds I see in the East. Cool, huh?

Hello out there!

I’m checking in, as it has been 2+ weeks since my last post. In the meantime, I’ve been madly working away on a photography project that has taken me to four states, including Oregon–a lifer for me and the 49th U.S. state in which I have set foot.

On top of that, today is my birthday–my 45th birthday. Maybe next year I can go to South Dakota for my birthday for an even 50. Or maybe I should wait 5 years. Hmmmm, 50 states–50 years. That’s got a nice ring to it.

Oh, and don’t forget: today is Flag Day in the United States. Fly ‘em if you got ‘em!

One thing that I was especially interested in this year was a gathering of bird and nature bloggers many of whom collectively refer to themselves as “The Flock.” Their presence certainly added a great deal of energy and camaraderie to an already energetic, friendly group. Meeting them and getting to spend time in the field was really cool. In fact, I’m going to largely direct you to their blogs to read about the goings-on at New River this year.

I won’t be making too many posts about this festival (perhaps 3), for a number of reasons:

1. There are going to be a lot of posts about it by other talented bloggers, many of them much more widely read than me.

2. I’ve got a couple of other birding activities coming up very soon I want to spotlight here. And I’m not even done with Ecuador yet.

3. I did a miserable, miserable job of recording the event in pictures.

When I speak or write about birds and birding, I try pretty hard to set the scene in a way that lets the audience see the context in which the birds are living and in which the birding is occurring. Of course, I love taking a good bird photo as much as the next person, but it’s so often the people pictures, the scenery shots, and other marginalia that I think make for a good story. And I just didn’t do it this time.

It wasn’t as if I lacked for opportunity. With the bloggers, my Mom, birding buds and celebrities aplenty, I could have done a lot. Ditto the scenery, the plants, the efts, and on and on. But my camera stayed in its case most of the time. Partly that was weather–it rained a lot. Partly it was having to lead trips, manipulate iPods, and so on. But mostly, I just didn’t keep up with it, knowing that the event was going to be so well covered.

I did get out to take a few pictures though. One day, after field trips had finished and then on the way home Sunday. Below are my favorites, which I hope that you’ll enjoy. But they are all pretty much just birds–there’s not much backstory. For that, I direct you to the list of other blogger-participants at the end of this post.

Here then, are a few birds. As always, you can see them bigger and better by clicking on any or all.

A male Scarlet Tanager inspects a stream pool where he is in the process of drinking and/or bathing. Unfortunately, he’s perched in a patch of Japanese Knotweed, an invasive exotic plant that blankets many roadsides and stream beds here.

Here’s a male Blue-winged Warbler, photographed in a more botanically pristine setting.

While Blue-winged is an OK name for this bird, I have to say it could be improved. Black-lored Warbler, maybe? I’d like something that highlights that nifty little narrow black mask.

If it’s blue wings you want, you can’t do much better than the Cerulean Warbler, which I think sports one of the coolest and most appropriate monikers of the whole tribe.

It’s just so, so wonderful to see and hear Ceruleans in good numbers. How good? Well, it’s easy to encounter half a dozen or even a dozen in the course of a morning’s field trip to proper habitats. Here’s the same guy, head on.

Also head on and also very blue: a male Northern Parula. His unusual name reflects a bit of taxonomic confusion. Linnaeus originally believed them to be kin to titmice and chickadees and placed them in the genus Parus with the old world tits. Yes, that’s right, he literally called it, “American Tit.” Whatever you call them, parulas are darn cute.

So that’s about it. They are lovely birds, aren’t they?

As I said, I’ll have a post or two more on New River coming, but for the big picture, I suggest that you check in with the following blogs and bloggers, who are listed in no particular order. 

I knew I recognized her right away–that actress from The Matrix and Memento and so on–I just couldn’t remember her name. Fortunately, Jim Rapp, who is pretty much the Oz behind the entire birding weekend, in addition to being the Director of DLITE, whipped out his pathetically cracked but still-functional iPhone and looked her up. Carrie-Anne Moss–that’s her name! We were all excited to have such a hip pop culture icon out enjoying birding and natural history (and craft brewing) on the Delmarva Peninsula. The only cloud over the whole experience was that our friend Sally O’Byrne had apparently headed to the rest room or something and missed the whole thing. And sure enough, Sally re-appeared just a couple of seconds after Carrie-Anne vanished. And I do mean vanished–we tried to find Ms. Matrix again so that Sally could see her, too, but it was like she had just evaporated or something. Kinda trippy.

After the weekend, I was really itching to go out and take some bird photos, so Monday morning I decided to go to Redden State Forest and surrounding areas, where there are hundreds of newly arrived warblers and other neotropical migrants. I figured that in addition to taking some photos, I could work in a little scouting for the Delaware Bird-a-thon, which I’ll be participating in next week.

Redden has a nice mix of  pine and deciduous forest types, plus lots of regenerating areas where the timber has been harvested. In one of those cutover spots, I found this Prairie Warbler.

He was happy enough perching and singing from trees both deciduous and evergreen.

Also singing were Black-and-white Warblers–two different ones this time–again in both gymnosperm and angiosperm settings.

I was especially hoping to get a really great portrait of a Worm-eating Warbler. These rather plain but still strikingly beautiful birds are surprisingly common around here.

This was the best I came up with. It’s not bad, but I’m definitely still looking for that ultimate Worm-eating shot.

This Kentucky Warbler proved to be a even more challenging target, but it’s such a cool bird and so seldom seen by most of us that I couldn’t resist including it.

Finally, an Ovenbird. These guys are downright abundant in decent forest around here. I spent less time on them than I did on the other species, but I still thought the pose here was pretty cool.

So that was my morning. Not officially part of the Delmarva Birding Weekend, but it gives you an idea of some of the birding we enjoyed. Tomorrow, I’m off to another great birding event: the New River Birding & Nature Festival. It’ll be great to see a bunch of old friends, plus this year’s event is chock-full of bird bloggers, many of whom I’ll be meeting F2F for the first time. Perhaps the best part, though, is that I’ll be heading out there with my Mom, who I know is going to love not only the birds and the birders, but also the fabulous botanizing. We’ll see how I do photo-wise there…I’m sure I’ll have something to show you when I get back.

Ornate Flycatcher, Milpe, Ecuador

How often do you find the words cute and unmistakable in the same sentence with flycatcher? Bob Ridgeley combined them to capture much of what makes this bird special. My photo, unfortunately, only shows the ventral side of the bird. Add in the glowing yellow rump and rusty-based tail and you’ve got quite a cute, small, essentially unmistakable flycatcher.

That’s all I’ve got time for today! Off to teach a saltmarsh/bay ecology class to a bunch of 8th graders, then lead a birding boat cruise on the Delaware Bay and Broadkill River for the Delmarva Birding Weekend. Whew!

I hasten to add that I don’t think this turn of mind is as depressing as it might initially sound. Sure, it can lead to a certain snarkiness, but it can also lead one to notice phrases that are especially well-turned. It even, applied to birds and such, can help one discover of rarities that otherwise might be missed.

OK, enough preamble–let’s get on with it. I was driving into the eastern edge of Millsboro, Delaware, on Route 24 yesterday when something in these signs caught my eye.

Many of my birder friends will have spotted it immediately. The GEICO billboard is directing the viewer to a, “local office,” in Sierra Vista, Arizona, a short 2,379 miles away. Seems like fuel expenses would more than obliterate any savings on insurance. (I kid, I kid–I’m generally a fan of GEICO’s ads, though they have SO many I guess some have to be good. Not this one, really, but anyway…)

Sierra Vista, if you didn’t know, is the jumping off point for visiting the Huachuca Mountains, easily one of the great birding spots anywhere in the U.S.

Would I have spotted this error if I hadn’t spent a considerable number of hours cruising up and down West Fry Blvd. myself? I don’t know. The name Sierra Vista might have jumped out at me. Believe me, you have to go a long way from here to vista any sierra. But it’s hard to say. I have no doubt that I’m more likely to spot a vagrant bird–maybe a Virginia’s Warbler or a Sage Thrasher, for example–here for having seen and heard them in Arizona and elsewhere, should one decide to show up. Not that I definitely would, but that the chances are improved.

By the way, the FAIL in this post’s title is a nod to a great time-waster for those who find humor in these phenomena: FAIL blog. Thanks–sort of–to Bill Schmoker for introducing me to it. Sure, it’s got an overabundance of photos of unintentionally phallus-shaped objects, but every so often they feature something that makes me laugh so hard I hurt. To get an idea whether it’s your cup of tea, take a peek at what is probably my favorite FAIL so far: Welsh FAIL.

And keep those eyes peeled.