Category: Listing (Page 10 of 10)

A Red Red Phalarope in the 5MR

Red Phalarope

Red Phalarope, Ballona Creek, May 2020

I’ve said it elsewhere, and I’ll say it again – 5MR birding is awesome. Indeed, the idea of focusing birding efforts within a few miles of my living room couch got me out of a bit of birding doldrums at the beginning of 2018. I had, by then, built up a big enough county list that new L.A. county lifers weren’t readily available. When they did show up, the birds were often far away – Los Angeles County is 4,751 square miles, and from my house it is 68 miles to the county’s NW corner in Gorman, 95 miles to the NE corner,  and depending on traffic can take almost an hour to get to parts that are much closer. Perhaps it was a sign of my maturing, but I simply didn’t care enough about my county list to drive 75 minutes to the Antelope Valley to get a bird like the Scott’s Oriole that I’ve already seen somewhere else.  I also felt guilty spending time and burning fossil fuel chasing birds, especially birds I had seen in LA before (say it with me: NO ONE CARES that you saw Mountain Plover or American Oystercatcher once again this year in L.A.). 

That’s when I stumbled upon Jen Sanford’s idea of the 5-mile radius. It was exactly what I needed – a birding challenge that would compel me to get out birding, while completely erasing any reason to go very far. It was a way to do what I enjoy with all sorts of time, environmental, conservation, and scientific benefits. And I would presumably learn a ton about birdlife in my little circle. I got so gung-ho that I made a contest out of it, recruiting some other birders in a 5MR Challenge for 2018.  Ten folks officially signed-up. By years end, six had found more than 200 bird species within 5 miles of their house.

Since then, besides a couple of trips outside the country, my 5MR has been the focus of my birding. Usually, I’m not chasing. Instead, I just pick a spot close to home and go check it out. But I do keep my eye on eBird. There isn’t a system in eBird enabling 5MR alerts the way there is for birds you haven’t ever seen in a state or county. As an imperfect alternative, I use the “Needs Alert” function to check recent sightings for birds I haven’t yet seen in L.A. County this year. Since I do most of my birding in my 5MR, this works alright. And occasionally, a report shows up for a bird in my 5MR that I haven’t ever seen in my 5MR.

That’s what happened last week, when Ballona warrior Walter Lamb reported a Red Phalarope on Ballona Creek. I live a block from the creek, and a bike path runs from my house 3 miles along the creek to the ocean, and another 3 miles inland. I’m on it all the time (exercise + birding = efficient healthy nerd). The report was from 7:30am, and precise as to location. I took off at 1:30pm and found the bird still in the same spot – feeding along the edge of the concrete creek about a mile from the coast.

Red Phalarope on Ballona Creek

Behold the redness

Summer Red Phalarope sightings are pretty rare around here, especially non-pelagic sightings. I had certainly never seen a red Red Phalarope before – all the others were winter plumaged birds without a single red feather on them, and most of those were birds flying away from the boat I was on. So I was very happy to have leisurely and close looks at the reddest Red Phalarope I will probably ever see. I biked the path 2 days later, and didn’t see it, and haven’t seen it since.

 

Add One: The County Life List

Like many birders, I keep a list of the birds I’ve seen. The tally of the different species you have ever seen, anywhere in the world, is known as a life list. The pursuit of new “lifers” drives a lot of birding decisions. And there’s no denying the thrill of seeing before your very eyes, flitting about in the field or soaring across the sky, a creature you’ve previously only known as a static sketch in field guides.

But nobody cares one bit about anybody else’s life list. And rightfully so – the length of a birder’s life list doesn’t necessarily reflect any particular skill in identifying birds. Rather, it predominantly reflects time spent birding and (more importantly) places visited around the world. Simply put, any fool with the money to travel and hire a guide can be led around Costa Rica and be told that he saw or heard 101 species during a six minute walk in Carara National Park. Of course, any fool can lie about the birds he’s seen, too.

The life list can be broken up into any number of smaller lists, defined by smaller chunks of time and place. There’s the “birds I’ve seen this year/month” list, the “birds I’ve seen in a particular state during my life” list, the “birds I’ve seen in a particular state this year/month” list, the county life list, the county year list, the 5MR life/year list, the backyard list, ….

I’m not a fan of the behavior necessary to pursue year lists on a scale any larger than a CBC circle. But I’m a sucker for local life lists. And it was the pursuit of adding a bird to my LA County life list that had me out the other morning to a Palos Verdes neighborhood. A Rose-breasted Grosbeak had been spotted, both morning and night, in the same silk oak tree. I figured there was a decent chance it’d still be there the next morning. This was a bird I have seen in other places, but had struck out on a couple of times before here in LA.

Rose-breasted Grosbeak, Palos Verdes, May 2020

I arrived at 8:30am (a late arrival by birding standards), and a group of nerds were peering through binoculars up into the silk oak tree, pointing. By the time I got out of the car, my COVID mask on, and my eyes up in the tree, it was gone. As time passed with no grosbeak in sight, the crowd slowly dispersed to try and find it. One birder reported hearing it a few blocks away, and some took off to get their sighting. The decision to wander and chase, or stay at a known spot favored by a bird, is a fraught one. I decided to stay put. The patience of the 3 of us who stuck around was rewarded 15 minutes later when we heard the grosbeak’s call. We found it, high up in the silk oak. It gave a decent show, moving haltingly from tall tree to tall tree. And after about 10 minutes, it took off, flying into the distance, maybe never to return (it was reported later that afternoon back in the same silk oak).

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