Canyons and Monuments

Youn-Young and I didn’t get to see each other very much over the summer as I was away doing fieldwork, so we took a little over a week to spend some time together and visit some of the places she had always wanted to see – the famous canyon and monument national parks in the southwestern U.S.A.

Driving southwest into eastern Colorado we spent a few hours in arid habitats where I enjoyed sightings of species like Scaled Quail and others that I have not seen many times in my life. In a rather comical moment, this Sage Thrasher and Lark Bunting posed side by side on a wire, permitting an unexpected size comparison.

Another surprise was a pair of Mississippi Kites, which the range maps in my field guides did not show in Colorado… just goes to show how quickly field guides become out of date!


We then planned a drive westward across Colorado with a stop or two in the Gunnison Valley where I wanted to seek out a potential lifer in Gunnison's Sage-Grouse. The scenery here was much more mountainous but also still somewhat dry. Youn-Young’s photo of the canyon rim at Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park, Colorado gives a sense of the shrubby habitat broken by coniferous forest in places that we encountered here.

As it was August, my search for Gunnison's Sage-Grouse consisted of cruising along creeks in dry sage brush habitat (exactly the strategy that had found me my lifer Greater Sage-Grouse in Oregon many years ago) at recommended sites. Sure enough, just south of the town of Gunnison, I spotted a hen with her brood. Amazingly, they were not skittish and allowed us to park on the roadside and photograph them (without getting out of the vehicle). Note the very prominent white tail bands (one of the features that differs from Greater Sage-Grouse).

Higher up we took a short hike in Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park, where an obliging brood of Dusky Grouse appeared magically on the trail in front of us. The speckled dusky (current name) bluish (recall their former name “Blue Grouse” before the split) plumage of this individual exhibited remarkable camouflage against the mottled rocks.

From here we drove west into eastern Utah to Arches National Park, an extremely arid landscape of red stone and patchy juniper… you get a sense of the grandeur of this place in this photo Youn-Young snuck in of me birding...

There were relatively few birds to be seen in the desert heat although Western Scrub-Jays were an almost constant campground companion…

Black-throated Sparrows also seemed relatively easy to see here, at least in the early morning,

But my real interest was to search any juniper patches for another species I had never seen before - Gray Vireo. At first, I found little else in the juniper but Juniper Titmice and Blue-gray Gnatcatchers; however, after a morning walk I noticed a ravine with a lot of juniper and suggested to Youn-Young that we go over and sit down in the shade there. When we got there, I tried playing the Gray Vireo song, a little speculatively, once on my mp3 player. Lo and behold, with a few minutes, a Gray Vireo flew in and landed above Youn-Young’s head and started scolding her... Oops! Sorry! Before long, I had located what appeared to be a family party and got a few photographic souvenirs of a long-awaited lifer!

Next stop was the spectacular Bryce Canyon! We came for the scenery of course but I was delighted with how birdy this place was – at a higher and cooler elevation with tall coniferous forests (considering the aridity of most of the surrounding landscape).

Mixed species flocks here produced many exciting western species like the handsome Grace's Warbler,

The common and curious Mountain Chickadee,

And three species of nuthatch including the fascinating Pygmy Nuthatch (I was delighted to see them low down on the trunks where I could get quality photos like this one), and many others.

From Bryce, we formulated a plan to go down to the Grand Canyon, which Youn-Young naturally wanted to see, before coming back up through Zion National Park and then homeward via Yellowstone. I insisted that we postpone ur lunch stop until we got to Vermillion Cliffs, Arizona, where I could look for California Condor. We arrived in the early afternoon at it was an unbearable 38°C and Young-Young thought I was crazy! Worse, there was no sign of anything alive except for an inquisitive Say’s Phoebe. I had almost finished lunch when I spotted three specs high above the cliff and nervously found them in my scope… immediately the large white windows on their wings indicated that I was viewing none other than the living phantom, the California Condor. Vermillion cliffs is of course one of the earliest release sites (1996) of the famous reintroduction effort that has kept this species alive… at least for now!

In the sweltering heat it was a relief to climb up to higher elevations at the rim of the Grand Canyon. One certainly learns to appreciate the staggering force of water in a place like this! The Colorado River, with its mighty erosive power, seemed to be miles below us…

Birding in the Grand Canyon area was surprisingly good with treats like Northern Pygmy-Owl, Pinyon Jay and the beautiful Acorn Woodpecker shown here.

Back up into Utah on the return leg, we stopped in at Zion National Park as planned, a landscape of more monumentous red rock and coniferous trees. This beautiful place nonetheless stirred sadness in me when I learnt of its inappropriate renaming to Zion National Park from the former Mukuntuweap National Monument (this word “apparently means “Straight Canyon” in Southern Paiute)… felt like the sad modern history of a continent wrapped up in a simple word swap! The Freemont Cottonwood trees in the canyon provided much appreciated shade and a variety of birds including species like Wild Turkey and Black-chinned Hummingbird and that I had not seen elsewhere on the trip. A second sighting of California Condor here was not much closer than my first sighting, and came only an hour after I had watched a Golden Eagle gracing the cliffs.

In the early morning, while Youn-Young slept in, I went up towards Kolob Reservoir, stopping on the sage brush slopes before dawn in the hopes of a third lifer. I only had to wait until a few minutes after dawn to hear the beautiful song of the Black-chinned Sparrow, though it took many more agonizing minutes until I got good views. In the end I saw quite a few birds, nearly all of them juveniles, as shown here, which lack the black chin that gives this species their common name.

Higher up in the forested areas near the reservoir I found more trip birds like Western Tanager and Virginia Warbler but I wanted to spend more prime time down in the arid scrubland where I could see species like this Phainopepla that I have only seen a few times in my life.

We left Zion and traveled north on the Interstate with a short stop at Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge on the edge of Great Salt Lake. The gates were closed but we found a few waterbirds and shorebirds like this Snowy Plover (recently split from the Old World Kentish Plover).

We drove through the night to arrive in the magical world of Grand Teton National Park – since a picture is said to paint 1,000 words, here are three photos (poorly stitched together into one) of the mountain chain that includes Grand Teton (the pointy peak second from left).

On the mountain slope stood lush coniferous forest; however, the flatter valley floor was clad in low shrubs, especially sagebrush, shown here.

And in that sagebrush roamed bison, deer and pronghorn (deer and antelope play). Here is a wide angle photo that tries hopelessly to capture the grandeur of pronghorn feeding in the sagebrush.

And now two with a telephoto lens to show the fine features of those beautiful animals!

Grand Teton was also good for raptors. Swainson's Hawk is not a bird one expects in the mountains (although if you have seen the trailer for the new movie the Big Year you will notice one bizarrely placed in a downhill ski scene) but they are quite at home on the sagebrush flats. This one posed on a fence pole and was unperturbed by my parking the vehicle beside them for a portrait.

Our last stop was to be Yellowstone National Park, famed for its geysers and wildlife viewing opportunities. Indeed Yellowstone was to prove excellent for wildlife watching on this visit (almost as good as the stunning Jasper National Park in Canada to give you a sense of just how good). We enjoyed sightings of mammals such as beaver, coyote, back bear, mule deer, and elk…

I see plenty of black bear in Manitoba so I didn’t spend a lot of time trying to get photos but seeing a total of FIVE Grizzly Bears was an enormous treat! Here is a photo with four of the five (in the Hayden Valley) all at once… a large male is feeding on a bison carcass while a female and two cubs wait their chance…

Another awesome highlight was seeing this timber wolf (grey wolf) in the Lamas Valley. Smaller but even better than the one I had seen in Wapusk National Park, Manitoba this year because I managed to photograph this one. Here are two photos on the wolf walking up a sagebrush slope and then a closer image.

We departed Yellowstone but there was one more order of business – the ascent of the Beartooth Pass and the quest for one more new bird for me – Black Rosy Finch. The Beartooth Pass is just northeast on Yellowstone on the Wyoming – Montana Border, and at 3,337 m ASL (almost 11,000 feet) seemed like the perfect place to look for a high altitude specialist! As we drove up into the rocky alpine zone dotted with snow packs and their pink flushes caused by snow algae (Chamydomonas nivalis) as seen in this photo, I started to feel that I had come to the right place… surely, these dappled browns, greys and pinks would harbour the black and pink gem I was seeking…

Youn-Young wanted us to head back at an appropriate hour and so I only had 90 minutes to search. Walking around the rocks, I saw several American pika, a fascinating, mouse-sized rabbit relative!

However, the only bird I seemed to be able to find was American (Buff-bellied) Pipit. I couldn’t resist trying to get a few photo of the few that were still in breeding plumage as the alpine subspecies are much more colourful than the tundra-breeding subspecies that I usually see.

The clock was ticking and over an hour went by before it happened… I heard a choppy call note from below the summit that I strongly suspected was Black Rosy Finch. Walking quickly across a boulder field I stared down in a wide rocky ravine and far below me caught sight of some small birds on the rocks. No time to waste! I scampered down until finally I caught sight of some all-dark birds feeding amongst the rocks and on the pink snow. I was looking for their pink highlights but the first birds I saw well were all juveniles with yellow bills and very little pink (like the one below) that threw me for a loop for just a few seconds until I realised why they didn’t look quite like what I was expecting…

Maneuvering into position, I watched them feeding and finally saw some adults. The Black Rosy Finch below was particularly obliging, landing close to where I sat, and also interesting in that it showed some yellow at the base of the bill but otherwise adult features… I had good intentions to try to photograph the wing feathers to see if i could find a moult limit but I got distracted by a most unexpected Brewer’s Sparrow and missed the moment when the finch flew.

A whirlwind tour and not nearly long enough to appreciate the American southwest but nonetheless packed with fond memories…

Peru: Part 2 - Dry Forests

As I mentioned in “Owls of Peru – Part 2: Arid Habitats” (posted in October), western Peru, i.e. west of the Andes, experiences a formidable rain shadow that creates some of the driest place on earth (technically the driest places occur a little further south in Chile due to the same rain shadow). As I wrote, all the moisture ascending the Andes from the Amazon basin (the prevailing winds are from southeast in this region) gets sucked out on the eastern side as it condenses into rain or snow. By the time the air mass crosses the Andes and descends the western slope, there is almost no moisture left in it. The western Andean foothills and coastal areas are therefore dominated by dry desert-like conditions or tropical dry forests that are much less tall and lush than the humid forests on the eastern slope. These forests are correspondingly lower in biodiversity but they do have their share of endemism as many species evolved here in isolation (cut off from relatives by the mighty Andes). This post offers a glimpse at some of the wildlife of this region.

We start with one of the most famous inhabitants of this region – the White-winged Guan. This species was discovered in 1876 but then not seen again for nearly 100 years and long feared extinct. A tiny population was fortunately rediscovered in northern Peru and since then conservation measures have been put in place including a captive breeding and reintroduction program. Nonetheless they are still classified as critically endangered with probably fewer than 250 individuals in the wild. I took these photos of these beautiful birds at Chaparrí, where a single wild guan was found and then some of the progeny of the captive breeding birds were released, making them easier to see here than elsewhere. The first photo shows a bird foraging in the treetops along a ravine. If you look at this photo you might be surprised by the name White-winged Guan. If you look at the second photo, where the bird has a slightly different posture, you can see a hint of white in the wing – in fact there is a large white patch that is only visible when the wings are open.



Raptor diversity often seems quite high in open habitats and coastal Peru has some beautiful raptors to behold. This is the elegant Pearl Kite.


And this is Savanna Hawk. This species is well adapted to arid habitats of northwestern Peru - their long legs (unfortunately not so visible in this photo) aiding in hunting and in locomotion along the ground.


There are numerous dove species in these dry forests. Here is just one example, the Croaking Ground Dove.


The Pacific Parrotlet is a common species in these dry forests, although their small size and active movements can make them tough to see well without a little luck.


Among the woodpeckers in these habitats, the small and beautiful Scarlet-backed Woodpecker occupies some of the very dry scrub habitats and thorny forests in the coastal regions and foothills (notice how “un-green” the habitat in the background of this photo appears).

The Lineated Woodpecker, on the other hand, is a large woodpecker and hence requires large trees. They tend to prefer riparian (river edge) forest, which in these dry areas is much taller than the surrounding scrub. This species is a congenitor of the Pileated Woodpecker (genus Dryocopus).

Hummingbird diversity is not particularly high in these dry areas but there are enough seasonal flowers and nectar that a few species can make a living here. By far the most common is the Amazilia Hummingbird. This species is one of those where the genus and species names are the same (Amazilia amazilia) and they also carry this name into their common name (Amazilia is a very large genus of hummingbirds with 30 species).

Leucippus is a much smaller genus of hummingbirds (4 species), two of which occur in this area – the Tumbes Hummingbird in the dry forests of northwestern Peru and the the very similar Spot-throated Hummingbird shown here that occurs in the dry Marañon valley at slightly higher elevations.

Here a young Purple-collared Woodstar takes a bath at the now famous mini cascade at Chaparrí. In such dry habitats, water is a very attractive feature to many birds including hummers!

Almost anywhere in South America, diversity is very high in the suboscine passerines. In North America most of our passerines are the oscines (sometimes dubbed “true songbirds”) and there is essentially only one family of suboscines, the Tyrant-Flycatchers. The main difference between the oscines and the suboscines is in the complexity of the syrinx (equivalent of our larynx), which of course gives the songbirds such beautiful voices. Suboscines may not have as complex songs capability as oscines but they can still fill up your senses! Prior to the Great American exchange (when the two continents came into contact), North America was completely dominated by oscines and South America dominated by suboscines. During the Great American Exchange a lot of mixing occurred so that both groups now thrive on both continents; however, the suboscines are still in the majority (just) in most of South America. For example, approximately 55% of Peru’s ~870 passerines species are sub-oscines. So here is a glimpse of this diversity…

Since many readers will be most familiar with the tyrant-flycatchers as example of suboscines, let’s start there. North American readers will be familiar with the genus Myiarchus, to which species like Great Crested Flycatcher and Ash-throated Flycatcher belong. Well, in the driest forest and scrub of northwestern Peru there is a beautiful Myiarchus species, who, to my eye, looks unlike other Myiarchus, viz. Rufous Flycatcher (again notice how arid the scrub in the background of the photo is).

One of the highly sought after endemics of the Tumbes regions (northwesternmost Peru and southwesternmost Ecuador) is the Tumbes Tyrant. This little gem can be very inconspicuous, despite their rich colour. The first photo shows the thorny dry forest they inhabit and the second show the rich colour of this species.

This Yellow-bellied Elaenia was hanging out right in a treed town square, perhaps a little more shady than the surrounding scrub.

Some of the flycatchers in this habitat have evolved to look a little different than the flycatchers most North Americans are used to. Here is one example, the Short-tailed Field-Tyrant. Notice how this species has evolved very long legs, which accompany their predominantly terrestrial habits (foraging by hopping along the ground). Of course they do occasionally perch on shrubs, as shown here, when their short-tailed, lanky profile seems a little out of place. You can see how small this bird is by comparing them to the acacia thorns in the photo.

In Part 1 of this series, I mentioned the ovenbird family. In addition to the miners and cinclodes there are other groups within this large suboscine family. This is a Pacific Hornero, foraging amidst the dry leaf litter. The word hornero is Spanish for oven maker (horno “oven” is cognate of Italian forno, both from Latin fornus; English “furnace” coming from Latin fornax via French and the English word “warm” being derived ultimately from the same Indo-European root). These birds make large oven-shaped mud nests that give them their name and give their family (Furnariidae) its name. Some Peruvians told me that the local legend is that these birds taught the locals how to build their houses (houses are frequently made from adobe in this region).

The antbirds (Thamnophilidae) is another very large suboscine family. Some of this family are myrmecophiles (ant lovers) who follow army ant swarms to feed on any living thing that flees from the advancing ants. In dry habitats, it seem that the antshrikes are the most common representatives of this family (not myrmecophiles). Like so many groups within this family, their names are constructed with the prefix ant- and then the name of another groups of birds they resemble (examples include antshrikes, antwrens, antvireos, and others). You will notice the shrike-like hooked bill of this female Collared Antshrike.

And here is her partner (I have not read anywhere that females have a more hooked upper mandible than males but on the few occasions where I observed a pair together that seemed to be the case)...

This male Shumbae Antshrike of the dry Marañon Valley may look A LOT like the male Collared Antshrike above, but recent genetic studies suggest they should perhaps be treated as separate species. Can you spot the differences in plumage?

This female Northern Slaty Antshrike was skulking in the thick shrubs and very difficult to get a good photo of… (the male is the "slaty" one)

Still within the antbird family, this Rufous-fronted Thornbird is constructing their enormous nest out of sticks rather than mud. These little brown jobs are inconspicuous most of the time, except their gigantic nests very often give their presence away (how often can you say it is easier to find a bird’s nest than the birds themselves?).

Another interesting suboscine family from this region are the Crescentchests (Melanopareiidae), formerly placed within the larger Tapaculo (Rhinocryptidae) family. There are only four species of crescentchest in the world and two of them occur in northwestern Peru. This is the Elegant Crescent of the coastal dry forests. Look closely at the wing before you scroll to the next photo.

This is the very similar Marañon Crescentchest of the dry Marañon Valley. Notice the white in the wing of this species as compared to the Elegant Crescentchest. As in the Shumbae Antshrike example, genetic studies and other evidence suggest that many taxa of the Marañon Valley are reproductively isolated from their close relatives of the coastal dry forest and more and more of them are being split as separate species.

This Peruvian Plantcutter is a representative of yet another suboscine family, the Cotingas (Cotingidae). This species is very patchily distributed in dense thorn forest. Unfortunately, in this photo you cannot see the serrations on the bill that give them their name.

Moving now to the oscines, here is an example of a group with a complex vocal repertoire even if they are not known to be beautiful songsters – the Crows and Jays (Corvidae) – yes, that is right, crows and jays are “true songbirds”. This is the stunning White-tailed Jay, which looks extremely similar to the Tufted Jay of Mexico but is much smaller. These birds can look very black and white when in shadow…

But with a little sun, such as on this bird in flight, you can see their "true blue"...

The Long-tailed Mockingbird is a birder's constant companion in dry coastal habitats.

The colourful Peruvian Meadowlark is not quite as common as the mockingbird but always a treat to watch.

There are numerous small seed-eaters in these habitats from several groups. Here are some examples, starting with the Little Inca Finch (this is a juvenile). The Inca finches are in the genus Incaspiza, which contains five species and the whole genus is endemic to Peru, i.e. all five species are found nowhere else... just amazing!!

Some of the seed in the dry forests must be hard to crack – just look at the honking bill of these Parrot-billed Seedeaters (female left, male right)!

The large Cinereous Finch is no slouch at husking seed either. This is another of the endemics of the Tumbesian region.

The Chestnut-throated Seedeater, on the other hand, doesn’t need such brute strength to earn a living.

This is the handsome Collared Warbling Finch with yet another slightly different bill structure for feeding on a different variety of seed.

And this the classy Saffron Finch

And the Red-crested Finch of the Marañon Valley and the Urubamba Valley.

The Tumbes Sparrow is yet another endemic seed-eater of the Tumbesian region. They are in the genus Aimophila along with North American sparrows such as Five-striped Sparrow, Bachman's Sparrow and others)

Naturally, there is more than birds to view in the dry forests. Here are just few examples of other wildlife. The Handsome Sechuran Fox (named after the Sechuran Desert). They are easy to see at Chaparrí as the second close up shows…

And a Collared Pecary

And a Green Iguana, which despite their name are not always green (the young ones are green but adults vary in colour)...