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.