My last update on the progress of my Thoreauvian Big Year (an attempt to see as many bird species as possible within a human-powered, ten-mile distance) described my sightings through mid-June. At that point, spring migration had more or less wrapped up and the relatively immobile interlude of summer was about to begin. It lasted for a good two weeks. Then it was on to fall migration!
He thought he could hide. Wilson’s phalarope by Tom Benson.
I only have another 11 species to report, bringing my year-to-date total to 194, with two months to go to find a mere six species to reach my 200 species goal. How does fall migration differ from spring migration? What birds are best sought at this time of year? What should you do if your Big Year is faltering in mid-October and you need more birds?
Let me tell you.
Fall Shorebird Migration
The first birds to start heading south are the shorebirds, many of whom nest far north in the Arctic, where summer is short. By late June, the first sandpipers and other birds are appearing back in our mudflats and wetlands, with the volume and variety of shorebirds then increasing in July and August.
Whimbrel: Whimbrel – Jim GainMy first “new” bird of fall migration was a whimbrel, a large, long-billed shorebird that winters here in modest numbers but who I had missed in the early months of the year. The best time to see them in Northeast Marin is during migration, with my first sighting at the Hamilton Wetlands on July 6, and additional sightings in the following weeks.
Lesser Yellowlegs: The same pattern applies to the lesser yellowlegs. While their close relative the greater yellowlegs is one of our most dependable and widespread shorebirds throughout the long “winter” shorebird season (August-April or so), this smaller, more delicate version is much less common and is best seen in migration. I found my first one of the season at Rush Creek on 7/19, where it helpfully called and then landed among a group of feeding greater yellowlegs to make identification obvious.Greater & Lesser Yellowlegs (on right) – John Sutton
Wilson’s Phalarope: It is possible to see lesser yellowlegs or whimbrels deeper into winter, though they are less common. But the biggest shorebird specialties of fall migration are the phalaropes, unique birds that exclusively visit us while passing through on their way to South America. Among their special traits are their reversed male and female roles – with females the colorful ones and males the quiet-plumaged dutiful incubators and early childhood babysitters – and their delightful habit of swimming in tight little circles to stir up food from the muddy substrate. Two species occur inland, with Wilson’s phalaropes generally arriving first. I saw my first one that same day at Rush Creek on July 19th, relatively early in their window.
Red-neck – Jason Crotty
Red-necked Phalarope: I had to wait several weeks to see the second species, the red-necked phalarope, which I encountered at the Hamilton Wetlands on September 7th feeding nicely in company with a Wilson’s. I saw more of them on subsequent visits to Hamilton in September, including an impressive group of 16 on September 21.
Other Fall Migrants
Shorebirds are the first southbound migrants to arrive, but various songbirds and other species appear in August and September. Some of these are the same species that I saw heading north during spring migration, but there are others that are best seen in fall.
Willow Flycatcher: One of the benefits of doing this whole big year thing has been to teach me a greater awareness of some of our less common migrants. Keeping a close eye on eBird, I noticed in late August that willow flycatchers were being reported in decent numbers at a variety of sites across Marin County. This bird is a member of the Empidonax genus, most familiar here from the pacific-slope flycatcher, a common summer bird in forests and denser woodlands. The willow flycatcher is rather similar-looking (as most members of the genus notoriously are), but with a pale throat, minimal eyering compared to the pac-slope, and a preference for more vigorous, active feeding in more scrubby habitats. So it was when I encountered one near the Bahia Lagoon on August 28.
Yellow Warbler: This is another fall specialty. While yellow warblers can be seen during spring migration or sporadically as breeding birds in Marin, they become the most abundant warblers to be found for several weeks in September. I saw my first-of-season that same day at Bahia on 8/28, and then a few hundred more in following weeks, most abundantly at Las Gallinas.
Vaux’s Swift: This is perhaps the fall specialty. While we do see a few scattered birds earlier in the year, the Vaux’s swift migration in September and early October is one of our most impressive migratory spectacles. Not only are they seen steadily streaming by on a daily basis, but most spectacular of all is when they congregate in the thousands (or even tens of thousands) at nocturnal roosting sites. You can read much more about swifts and our best swift-watching location in my post about the McNear Brickyard. I saw my first one flying over my home on 8/30, and thousands more over the course of September.Swifts at McNear’s – Aaron Maizlish
Golden Eagle – Don Bartling
Golden Eagle: After a long, long eagle draught, I finally saw not one, not two, but three golden eagles. They flew right over my home, two adults and one juvenile all in company. I then saw (presumably) the same birds flying together over nearby Big Rock Ridge a week or so later. Based on the repeat appearance and apparent family group, these eagles were actually probably not in the middle of a long migration and I assume nested somewhere not too far off.
Another way to find more birds: change the rules
Where were you when I needed you? Sage Thrasher by Tom Benson
So there I was at the end of August at 191 species, feeling like things were going pretty well. Unfortunately, things slowed down, way down. While a string of exciting vagrants were reported at coastal locations at Point Reyes or Rodeo Lagoon, fewer migrants were coming through in my inland radius. And those that did, I failed to find (I’m looking at you, oft-reported sage thrasher and vesper sparrow of Las Gallinas). After September passed, as October was passing, and no new birds appeared, the big year was growing rather desultory and the 200 species target was looking challenging with the peak of fall migration fading away.
So I decided to make a small adjustment to my Big Year radius. Since I am, after all, the official arbiter of the Thoreauvian Big Year rules and regulations, I made the measured decision to expand my “ten mile bike journey” to a “ten mile radius on the map.” The original inspiration was Thoreau’s extolling of the many wonders to be found in a ten-mile walk (which he considered a rough approximation of the outward distance he would undertake in a day), but since I was biking, this expanded my range significantly: for me to make a 12 or 15 mile outward bike journey would only take an hour or a bit more, far less than the three or four hours it might take to walk a similar distance.
I may not exploit every habitat now within my ten mile circle, but I had one particular target in mind: the San Rafael shoreline at China Camp and in particular around Point San Pedro at the Loch Lomond Marina. This spot offers both deep water and rocky shoreline, perfect conditions for birds rarely or never seen in Novato. On one “official” trip down there so far, I added three species:
Brown Pelican: While they could conceivably fly farther north into San Pablo Bay, you tend to see more of this pelican species on the outer coast or relatively closer to the Golden Gate within the Bay. There were three at Loch Lomond in late October, including some nice close ones fishing right within the marina.Black Oystercatcher – Andrew Johnson
Black Oystercatcher:Black turnstone – Andy Reago
This large, striking shorebird sticks to the rocks – which means that we don’t get them up here in Novato, with our soft, marshy shoreline.
Black Turnstone: The same story applies to these smaller, chunky shorebirds. As their name suggests, they feed on rocky, stony shorelines, which means I had to travel south to see them.
So that’s where I am now: 194 species found, with two months to go to reach 200. I’ve got a few winter birds that I can reasonably expect to find (hooded merganser, American bittern), my year-long nemesis the bald eagle to conquer, maybe a gull or two to figure out how to identify better, and a newly expanded radius in which I should be able to find a few more bay birds and some conifer-loving nuthatches. I’ve got this!
The Thoreauvian Big Year
Introduction: How many birds can I find in a year within 10 miles of my Novato home, without using a car? I kick off the Thoreauvian Big Year.
Late January Update: The easy resident and wintering birds pour in – along with a few surprises – among the highlights of the first 115 species. What local sites should you visit in January if you want to see more birds?
March Update: I climb to 142 species, wrapping up most of the common winter birds and seeing the first signs of spring as we pass through February.
April Update: Spring ramps up and I work harder to find some special birds.
July Update: Spring winds down with some of our most spectacular migrants.
October Update: Fall migration passes south and I begin to think creatively about how to reach 200 species.
Conclusion: Did I make it? What were the highlights? What did I learn? Why would someone undertake a Thoreauvian Big Year again?
