Tricolored Blackbirds of Livermore

Once a year, Audubon Society asks biologists, birders, nature lovers, or any citizen who is interested to participate in a statewide breeding-season survey for tricolored blackbirds in California. Using this "citizen science," a database and website track numbers of breeding colonies, numbers of individuals, population trends, and movements. Why are these blackbirds so special? They are designated as a species of special concern by the Department of Fish and Game. Though they appear to be numerous, their populations in California are declining. And though small populations have been seen in Nevada or Oregon, they are mostly only in California. In historical times, birds such as this blackbird were so numerous they "blackened the sky". In the central valley, much of their meadow habitat was taken up by agriculture and cattle raising. They adapted to wheat fields and grain silos and continue to persist, but what happens when there's a colony of blackbirds about to hatch its chicks and it's harvest time? And it's a cool bird. They're noisy, gregarious, and the only land bird to breed in large colonies of monogamous pairs. So as a biologist, birder, and nature lover, I was very happy to participate in this survey. I dragged my husband Chris out to Alameda County to be my field partner and we set off to find some blackbirds. You, my lucky blog reader, get first-hand field notes.

April 16, 2011, Livermore. We started on North Flynn Road; rolling green hills beneath the wind turbines of Altamont Pass, where there were more cyclists working out on the hills than vehicle traffic. We parked the truck and spotted a tricolored in a tree next to a farmhouse. Hoping someone wouldn't run out of the house with a shotgun, we set up our spotting scope practically in their front yard and counted blackbirds. Beyond the Brewers' and cowbirds, and amongst ground squirrels looking like burrowing owls, we found an active colony. Immediate victory. Our next site on Altamont Pass Road involved a little trespassing. An unused Union Pacific railroad track access road provided the trail to the spot where the colony was once seen. Red-winged blackbirds flew about and displayed in the habitat that once contained a tricolored colony, and a baby gopher snake in the road made the steep hike worthwhile. Hoping my truck wouldn't get towed from the side of the road, we headed back down the hill and went into town for lunch. Then two more sites with a little more trespassing on railroad property but no tricoloreds. Then we hit the motherlode. Laughlin Road. Another farmhouse in green hills with horses, grain, and nearby water hosted a colony of hundreds of blackbirds. While the females hunker down in the tall grasses, the males fly in and out in large foraging flocks, two to three hundred birds at a time, swooping up, then landing and nearly disappearing in the foliage.

The colony had originally been seen in Brushy Peak Regional Preserve, at the end of Laughlin Road, about a quarter-mile up the trail. We took the hike to the spot, then rested by a lake with ruddy ducks, buffleheads, a few jackrabbits, and a few red-winged blackbirds.

I videotaped a mallard pair's amusing foraging routine--alternating butt-in-the-air dabbling between male and female--then slowly walked back as late afternoon cast shadows that told us our day was nearly over. We returned to the parking lot and found the loudest, most gregarious tricolored blackbird colony yet--right next to my parked truck. A picnic table gave us a perfect vantage, and we counted, videotaped, and reveled in our success.

One last count on Laughlin Road before the blackbirds went to bed and we were driving west to San Francisco to pick my brother up from SFO. There were ten other sites in this area alone we could have visited if we had another day, so it gives me something to look forward to for next year's annual survey. If going to places you'd never think you'd go sounds like fun, citizen science wildlife surveys may be for you.

San Joaquin Birding

April 10, 2011. Continuing our refuge-hopping weekend, we traveled north from Los Banos on Highway 165 to visit the San Luis National Wildlife Refuge. Across from the Great Valley Grasslands State Park, there was only one entrance in. The other entrance, which would have taken us to the Tule Elk Tour Route, was closed; presumably from flooding. We had hoped to see tule elk, especially since this time of year they are calving, but none were seen. We did see a lot of wetlands, filled with water birds and waterfowl, and great opportunity to get video for the bird documentary I will someday produce. It's always fun to videotape cool animal behavior. The red-winged blackbird puffed his bright orange-red epaulets in perfect timing with his gurgly song "o-ka-leeeee" (flash on the leeeee). Coots bobbed their little heads up and down as they swam between shovelers and teals. Avocets foraged, killdeer scurried about, and black-neck stilts carried on with their high-pitched, loud, and continuous mating calls, "yip, yip, yip, yip, yip, yip..." Mallards made dramatic entries as they slid from the air onto the surface of the water.

Subway sandwiches provided us with a fine picnic next to the large groups of dunlin, least sandpipers, and stilts. Then we hiked into a swamp, listening to the chattering of marsh wrens and the songs of sparrows and meadowlarks. A swamp in California? A swamp is not usually thought of as California habitat. We're used to seeing swamps in Florida or Georgia, and watching for the tops of alligator heads as they emerge from the surface of the water. It's been a very wet year, and we might think of this swamp as an anomaly, but in reality there are over 90 swamps throughout the state. No alligators here, but the soaring of raptors and warbling of warblers made this swamp feel very much alive.

We were traveling home towards the Sacramento area, and stopped at the San Joaquin River National Wildlife Refuge. The Pelican nature trail was mostly closed due to flooding of the San Joaquin, Stanislaus, and Tuolumne Rivers, which converge here at this refuge. This convergence makes the refuge an important area for sensitive and endangered species that depend on the riparian habitat, which is being restored through a multi-agency effort, after much of it was degraded by agricultural and human development use. We walked part of the trail towards the river; and though we didn't spot any endangered species, we were accompanied by a lot of black-tailed jackrabbits, either freezing on the trail ahead of us or bounding this direction or that, adults and young alike. One juvenile with large dark eyes and a round fluffy white tail was curious enough to walk right up to our feet, then was smart enough to bound into the trees at the sound of Chris' voice. Other rabbits were seen following a small group of quail. This little circus occurred a few meters ahead of us on the road-sized trail, moving along the road as we moved. The quail lazily crossed the road, stopping to pick at a morsel on the ground, then moving on, back and forth, and the rabbits circled around them.

It was a Sunday evening which meant we could not stay much longer in the serenity and calmness of a natural refuge. We had to forage ourselves, for a decent restaurant in Stockton, and return to the madness of our human habitats.

Los Banos: A Destination?

About ten years ago, when I thought of Los Banos, California, I thought of a sleepy little farming town with outstanding Mexican food, but otherwise a town that one passes through very quickly on the way from Point A to Point B. In fact I didn't think much existed that was worth a thought, let alone a visit, in the central valley between Highways 5 and 99. But then I became a birder. I discovered how wonderfully fun it was to drive the back highways between agricultural fields and peer through binoculars at the variety of shorebirds/water birds (stilts, avocets, kildeer), but I still hadn't discovered the real attraction of the area. It wasn't until this year, having signed up to do citizen science tricolored blackbird surveys for the Audubon Society, that I booked a room in Los Banos to attend the training, and discovered miles of contiguous national wildlife refuges and state wildlife areas. I booked two nights at the Days Inn (a wonderful place to stay with a host that has a wonderful soul) for a weekend of refuge-hopping; though one weekend can barely touch the surface. It was birding heaven.

April 9, 2011. The training was held at the Merced National Wildlife Refuge, and while mom and Chris went off birding on their own, I was guided by Audubon and Fish and Wildlife Service staff to learn how to identify and count huge colonies of nesting tricolored blackbirds. This was a first for me, since the tricoloreds are declining in California, and as such are designated as a State species of special concern. More about that on another blog; for this one, I'll say I was quite overwhelmed. Trying to count a colony of birds in the thousands that are quite active over a large area, flying in and out in large synchronized groups, was a challenge. But as focused as I was, I could not help but notice the richness of the other bird (and mammal) diversity this refuge had to offer. I wasn't even looking for the other birds, and filled a page in my little notebook with sparrows, wrens, water birds and shorebirds, other songbirds including the seasonal kingbird, many species of waterfowl, land fowl, and raptors.

After the training, it was time to partake in some of that aforementioned Mexican food, and then play time. Los Banos Wildlife Area -- managed by the Department of Fish and Game. It was late afternoon by the time we drove out there, and it was overcast, windy, and raining, but don't think for a minute that stopped us from getting out of the truck with our binoculars, cameras, and video camera, and hiking a road-trail along upper Ruth Lake. Someone told me grebes would be there, and my fascination with this graceful half-seabird, half-waterbird drove me forward. I captured on my video camera (to be shared via this blog on You-tube once edited)a graceful and synchronized courtship dance that was as exquisite as a choreographed and well-rehearsed ballet. This was topped off with singing meadowlarks, harriers and white-tailed kites on the hunt, great white egrets dancing with the wind, and a group of egrets roosting together with their young.

So is Los Banos a destination? If you are a birder or appreciate nature, I say it certainly is.