Eastern Yellow Wagtail in my 5MR!

Eastern Yellow Wagtail!!!

Lifer Eastern Yellow Wagtail in my 5MR!!

I love it when birding serves up a surprise. While I was out of town recently, a friend found a pectoral Sandpiper in my 5MR. It’s a bird I see almost, but not, every year in my 5MR. So it’s a good enough bird to go find whenever one is found in my 5MR. Upon coming back to town, I headed out after dinner to see if the Pectoral Sandpiper was still around. It had been in an area near the Ballona Freshwater Marsh that was flooded with water during our winter rains, and had retained much of its water until early summer. This was great news for migrating shorebirds, because they’re much more likely to stop when there is water around. And despite the lack of rain around here, the area had magically sprouted a few puddles of water in the last week or so.

When I arrived, I scanned the area and didn’t see the Pectoral. I did notice a bird with a brown-ish back and cap pumping its tail that I first thought was an American Pipit. But as it moved around, I saw that this bird’s underside (chest, belly, undertail) was obviously yellow, the chest had no streaking, and the bird had an eyebrow (supercilium, if you must) that was decidedly thick and white. All of that ruled out American Pipit for me.

A wrong turn in Alaska produces birder delight in Los Angeles

I snapped some photos, and sent out an alert to the LA County bird nerd WhatsApp suggesting that I’d possibly found a Yellow Wagtail. The immediate responses confirmed my suspicion. So I continued watching the bird, determined to keep my eyes on it in case anyone was able to show up before sunset (which was in 30-40 minutes).

The bird was feeding on bare dirt near small puddles of water, and amongst baby pickleweed plants that have sprouted where the seasonal pond had been for winter and spring. It bobbed its tail regularly as it moved around, and often moved in herky-jerky spurts. When feeding amongst the pickleweed, it sometimes would disappear within the plants, other times would walk on top. It spent more of its time in the pickleweed than on the bare dirt. At one point it spread its tail, and I noticed white outer tail feathers.

A local birder and 5MR enthusiast showed up, and got to see the Yellow Wagtail. We watched it for about 10 minutes. As the sun set, the area in which it was grazing fell out of sun and into shadow. At this point, the bird flew south away from us. We did not see where, or how far, it went.

This is just the third LA County record (in eBird) for Eastern Yellow Wagtail. [I guess it could be a Western Yellow Wagtail, but that’s much less likely. The Eastern birds breed in Alaska. There are scattered West Coast reports. And the bird gave a burrrpsy call when it flushed after being harassed by a Killdeer that suggests Eastern Yellow Wagtail.] The last sighting was in September 2007 at Malibu Lagoon. Before that, one was seen in September 1987, again in Malibu Lagoon. It’s such a rare sighting anywhere in the lower 48 that birders from all across the country have been flying in to see it.

This now gives me an LA County first sighting (Sedge Wren), a second sighting (Bar-tailed Godwit), and a third sighting (Eastern Yellow Wagtail), with two of those in my 5MR.

I Nearly Ran Over a Lifer

A Chukar in the road, (c) Stephen John Davies

Why did the lifer cross the road?

When you teach a teenager how to drive, you realize how frightening and chaotic driving really is. Potential dangers lurk in every direction. Death and destruction can arise in a flash. Whether you’re driving in traffic on the freeway, cruising surface streets in your neighborhood, or touring the lonely backroads of America, you must remain vigilant. At any moment, a distracted driver, somebody in a hurry, children at play, bicyclists, or a neighborhood dog might wander into your lane, dart out from the sidewalk, or speed past you along the median.

It also turns out that, while on a quiet 2-lane highway in Kingston Canyon, Utah, a lifer Chukar might stroll across the road directly in front of you. It happened to me on a recent drive home from a wonderful vacation in southern Utah. We were on a beautiful stretch of windy highway following the East Fork of the Sevier River. As I came around a bend, a quail-sized bird strolled across the road. It wasn’t dawdling, and it wasn’t in a hurry. It appeared to slightly turn in my direction as it neared the bushes on the side of the road, but otherwise ignored my rapid approach. Thanks to its distinctive facial and side markings, I was 100% sure it was a Chukar.

A non-countable Chukar at St. Andrews Abbey in Valyermo, CA, June 2015

The Chukar is a quail-like bird native to Asia and the Middle East. It’s been introduced across the western United States as a game bird. They’re also bred on farms for training hunting dogs and competitions. They are established in some spots of the U.S. I’d actually seen a Chukar once before, on the grounds of a Benedictine Monastery called St. Andrews Abbey in Valyermo, California. That’s in L.A. County, in the Antelope Valley between Palmdale and Victorville. It was back in 2015, when a trio of Chukar showed up at the abbey for a few weeks. 

So how could the Utah Chukar be a lifer if I’d seen them before in California? The ones at the monastery were apparently escapees from a nearby ranch. As a result, they didn’t “count” as a lifer. But that thought didn’t cross my mind when I caught a glimpse of a Chukar on the highway. Indeed, I didn’t realize it was a lifer until we got home and I entered the sighting into eBird. Instead, my thought was about finally adding Chukar to my Utah list. They used to be infrequently reported in Capitol Reef National Park, where we vacation. But despite many tries, I’ve never stumbled across one. The Chukars in Utah “count” for life lists because, I guess, the populations there have been established for decades now.

The birding rocked on the trip as a whole. There weren’t any other lifers, but I saw and heard more Yellow-breasted Chats than I knew even existed as we floated down the San Juan River on a raft. Over 4 hot days, we cruised 27 miles downstream from Bluff to Mexican Hat. Violet-Green Swallows and Cliff Swallows were often around, families of Canada Geese appeared every few miles, and the songs of Black-headed Grosbeak and Yellow Warbler was never far away.

The chocolate-milk colored San Juan River in southeastern Utah

After running the river, we drove to Torrey for a week-long stay. I’ve scoped out a lot of great birding spots in this high elevation arid landscape. I managed 4 new county birds this trip: Gray Vireo (3 different birds encountered singing  along backcountry trails), Hammond’s Flycatcher (on Boulder Mountain), Gadwall, and Wilson’s Snipe (on a fence post just outside of town). One day my son and I went out on the Awapa Plateau (Parker Mountain) looking for Greater Sage Grouse. We found miles and miles of great sage brush habitat, but never found a single grouse. We did nearly collide with a Ferruginous Hawk. And we came across several small groups of Pronghorn, spotting at least 30 individuals in total, which was cool. 

Our trips to Utah are great for the chance to see bird species that aren’t as regular in Los Angeles. The blue of the Mountain Bluebird never ceases to amaze. Sandhill Cranes bugle from the tall grass in Bicknell Bottoms. Black-billed Magpie are stunning every time you see them. Common Nighthawks take to the air at sunset along the Fremont River to feed on insects. Grace’s Warblers flitter about the pines (I saw one feeding a gigantic Brown-headed Cowbird juvenile in an absurd scene). Clark’s Nutcrackers and Pinyon Jays move about in small groups. Sage Thrashers pop up in all sorts of places. And Broad-tailed Hummingbirds find every stocked feeder.

I didn’t get to Thousand Lake Mountain during this trip – the only spot I’ve ever seen Canada Jay. And we were a couple of weeks lake to visit on ongoing dinosaur dig near Hanksville, Utah. But the Torrey-Capitol Reef-Boulder Mountain area is always wonderful to visit.

 

 

« Older posts