Listing Through Life

I drove south to the tiny community of Pryor to look for a Hepatic Tanager in the same spot where I saw my lifer (and only, to date) one a couple years ago. Other birders have reported it from there lately. I wandered the area for about an hour and a half and didn’t get a hint of it. I did make friends with a Northern Mockingbird that sat in a small tree and sang quietly to me.

I drove the back roads in the area to see if anything else interesting was around. I didn’t se much besides an impressive view of Spanish Peaks.

When I got back to my original spot, there was another birder there looking for the tanager. He hadn’t seen it. He suggested I try the other spot where he’d had good luck—and then he gave me directions and a description of the exact spot where we were standing. I looked on eBird to see if there was another place where the bird had been seen lately—and there wasn’t. I was at the only spot, and so was he. I have no idea what he was thinking and couldn’t help wondering where he thought he was.

From there I drove to Pueblo Mountain Park where Grace’s Warblers are supposedly resident. I’d only seen one of those too. I hiked and drove around the park for about three hours and again didn’t get a hint of one. I did have an interesting experience. I hiked the Devil’s Canyon trail and came to a narrow spot where a small waterfall filled a notch between two cliffs. There was clearly no trail through the area, but there was also clearly not enough room for the trail to go elsewhere. I checked the map and saw that the trail was marked through the canyon, so I gingerly edges along one wall, depending entirely on hand-holds to keep from falling. Had I slipped, I would have slid down the steep rock wall to the waterfall. At worst, I probably could have broken a leg or sprained an ankle—my life probably wasn’t in danger. But getting out of there would have been a challenge with a bum leg. It was stupid, but I was proud of myself for making it through. When I got to the other end of the trail, the sign said “Dead End.” That definitely wasn’t on the sign in the direction I came.

Anyway, the park was pleasant, as was the surrounding area. It was very green for Colorado, with tall pines and long views.

But in three hours, I only saw 10 species of birds.

I headed for home, stopping in Fountain to look for a Bobolink that has been seen there recently. This would be my first for the state. I found it way out in the field, but I waited patiently knowing that this may be my last every chance for a photo. It, or another one, came over and perched on a fence post for a couple minutes.

A White-tailed Deer fawn walked across the road in front of my car, followed by a very tiny fawn that was unsteady on its feet, probably because it was only hours old. It missed a gate by about a foot and tried to squeeze its way through a fence. I thought it was stuck, so I pulled over. It had managed to make it through. I took a quick photo, then left it alone. The doe had run off when I got out of the car. I can only hope she came back.

The Bobolink and fawn were the highlights of the day, and they came at the very end. But I enjoyed the scenery and the hiking and the few birds I did see.

pheucticus (inclined to avoid, retiring) chrysopeplus (golden-robed)

Huerfano County, Colorado — Reagan Road

Saturday, May 29, 2021 — 9:51 am

Yellow Grosbeaks live along the western edge of Mexico. They occasionally wanders north into Arizona, and there are a few sightings from New Mexico and Texas. I don’t believe one has ever been seen in Colorado — or anywhere else this far north.

But one was spotted yesterday at somebody’s feeder in rural Huerfano County, about 25 miles south of Pueblo and 4 miles east of I-25. Access wasn’t available before 9:00 am. I arrived around 9:15 and found about 20 birders there before me. They packed the porch and were overflowing into the yard on both sides of the house. A steady parade of Black-headed Grosbeaks, Blue Grosbeaks, Bullock’s Orioles, Lewis’s Woodpeckers, and a variety of other species kept us entertained.

The Yellow Grosbeak had been seen earlier in the morning, and there was a fair degree of optimism that it would return. After I’d waited about 35 minutes, a woman saw it fly in and land in a cottonwood. The bird perched among the leaves for three or four minutes, looking at the large crowd that had gathered.

It flew to a couple other branches, creeping ever closer to the feeder it preferred. It made one final stop on a dead branch just off the porch.

It then flew to a hanging sunflower feeder and ate quietly for 8 or 10 minutes. I was able to move to an angle where the light was good. Except when flying, it was a very quiet bird, perching in one place for minutes at a time, looking slowly around, and eating seeds without any unnecessary motion.

The consensus among birders is that the grosbeak is a male born last year. It has dark marks on its back and head, but not as many as would be expected on a female.

It took off and flew low across the yard, giving us great views of the black-and-white wings and tail and the bright yellow body. It looked something like a giant American Goldfinch. It was a beautiful bird — one that wasn’t on my radar to see and that I’ll likely never see again. I’m definitely glad I made the trip.

Update: I did see one again. One showed up in late February at a ranch feeder in Northwest Colorado. The homeowners charged $25 to go on their property and see it, which they had every right to do. It almost dissuaded me from going, but I was  in a “chasey” mood, and so I made the trip. I paid my money and stood around with perhaps 20 other birders until it finally showed up to forage under the feeders.  It looked very much like the Colorado bird.

On Monday evening, we went to a backyard pizza party with our small group, near downtown Colorado Springs. The yard backs up on a ravine. After we ate, we wandered through the garden to the fence at the edge of the ravine. A young cinnamon-colored Black Bear was wandering slowly through the tall grass along the creek. It stopped to scratch and itch, then kept walking, paying no attention to us. I’d heard that bears come down into the city, but this was the first time I’d seen proof. We were perhaps 40 yards away from it.

On Tuesday morning, I birded at Cheyenne Mountain State Park. My goals were to see a Hammond’s Flycatcher (I saw two), an Ovenbird (I got brief glimpses of two and heard several others), and a Blue-gray Gnatcatcher (I saw several). I also wanted to get a decent photo of a Virginia’s Warbler. I got this. I can do better.

As a bonus, I also flushed a Common Poorwill. It flew a short distance, but I didn’t realize how short. When I followed it, hoping for a photo, I flushed it again before I could take a shot. I also saw, but also didn’t photograph, a stealth bomber that was (probably) practicing for a flyover at the Air Force graduation later in the day.

Eastern Fox Squirrel (black phase) at Fountain Creek.

Well camouflaged Snapping Turtle