Listing Through Life

pluvialis (relating to rain — because they supposedly call before it rains) apricaria (to bask in the sun)

Saturday, October 3, 2020 — 11:10 am

Maxwell National Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico — Lake 14

This is a very rare bird in this part of the country. European Golden-Plovers show up on the Atlantic coast from Newfoundland to Delaware almost every year but there are very few inland sightings and none anywhere near Colorado or New Mexico.

Even though it was being seen in New Mexico, the bird was reported on the Colorado birding forum on Friday. I happened to be looking for something to do on Saturday so I drove the two-and-a-half hours south and arrived around 9:30. I first went to the wrong lake, but two birders soon steered me in the right direction. When I got to the correct lake, two other birders told me the plover had just flown to the far side. I walked around to the other side, followed by four other birders, but I couldn’t spot the bird. I did, however, spot more birders on the side of the lake where I’d started. Where they were standing, the sun was behind them, making for a much better view. I decided to head back around.

The lake wasn’t much more than a six-acre puddle. It was so shallow that sandpipers were foraging in the very middle.

As soon as I reached the birders, they pointed the plover out to me. It was foraging actively at the very edge of the water near a Killdeer and several Green-winged Teal. After five minutes or so, it flew about 20 yards closer, stood fairly still for maybe five minutes, then foraged back around to where I’d originally seen it. It was close enough for decent scope views, but too far for good photographs. Here’s the best of what I got.

It’s a lot more golden-colored than either the Pacific Golden-Plover or the American Golden-Plover would be this time of year. Other birders said it was obviously larger and plumper than the others would be, but I’ve never seen a Pacific and haven’t seen an American recently enough to make a comparison that means anything. It was decidedly taller and plumper than the Killdeer.

It’s an adult because of the black spots on its chest and belly, left over from the all-black plumage of summer. Another birder told me it was molting, but except for the black spots, I saw no evidence of this. If it is, so I was told, it’s likely to stick around for a while.

The bill is stubbier than that of the other golden-plovers, and the back is more speckled. The chief distinguishing mark is bright white underwing coverts which I saw distinctly when it flew and landed but didn’t get a photo of.

Here are some better photos of the very same bird that I stole off the Internet.

buteogallus (from buteo, buzzard, and gallus, fowl or turkey) anthracinus (coal-black)

Saturday, September 12, 2020 — 1:47 pm

Teller County, Colorado — Manitou Lake Recreation Area

I was birding at Chatfield State Park and got in a conversation with two other birders. One of them was on the phone with his parents who reported that the Common Black Hawk, found yesterday at Manitou Lake, was still being seen today. It meant an hour-and-a-half drive, but I’ve gone a lot longer for a lifer, so I headed back south through Colorado Springs, up through Woodland Park, and then back north to Manitou Lake.

As I was paying my $7 to get in, I asked the woman in the booth if she knew where birders were seeing the hawk. She said it was being seen eating crayfish below the dam. I parked and walked about 50 yards to the bridge over the dam, and there it was.

It was standing on a cement block below the spillway. After about five minutes, it flew 20 feet to another block and stood there for maybe 15 minutes.

There were six or seven other birders in the area, and we were able to show the hawk to a lot of non-birders, most of whom were interested when we told them how rare a bird it was. Somebody said it was only the 11th Common Black Hawk ever recorded in Colorado. Its normal range is southern Arizona and New Mexico and southwest Texas.

This bird was a juvenile. The thick black malar stripe, the wavy lines on the tail, and the white patches on the primaries identify it. It flew down the creek and landed on in a pine.

I walked around to the other side of the tree and took a few more photos.

The hawk flew down to the creek and stood in two-inch-deep water for a minute or so, then flew further down the creek and ate a crayfish. You can see a crayfish claw in this next photo.

After eating the crayfish, it flew south over the lake. I didn’t see it again.

If you had one day to see a magpie, and seeing a magpie was your life’s ambition, I would take you to the creek. In the evening, the magpies gather in the branches of a dead willow. Mostly they just look around, but sometimes they laugh out loud, a hoarse, high-pitched laugh that can be heard half a mile away. Now and again, one flies out over the prairie as though it has somewhere to go, but it’s not anywhere important because it soon flies back.

But on some evenings, the magpies aren’t in the willows by the creek. Instead of laughter, there’s only the quiet whisper of the creek. If you were with me on one of those days, I would take you for a ride. We’d go to a place where magpies can always be seen. It’s like a magical magpie place.

Locals call it the Target parking lot.