Give the People What They Want

In 1981, the English rock band The Kinks gave the people what they thought they wanted: 11 short rock songs, probably all about tea and crumpets or nailing transvestites. Now, in 2011, I'm going to give the people what they really want: pictures of birds. Enjoy!

White-rumped Swallow: Of course this guy has to come first.  A South American member of the cavity-nesting Tachycineta genus, this browed little fighter jet is the whole reason for our being here. Every adult acts differently when you are working with its nest. Some will give you some distance, perching some yards away. Others will go Red Barron and dive-bomb the shit out of you.  The male at box 98? He just sits and watches 5 feet away, making small-chirp while you work.  Unfortunately his nest has been predated twice in the past 2 weeks. Maybe he should have opted for dive-bombing…

Burrowing Owl: How lucky are we? Like a mosquito in a blood bank. Every morning we find this guy and his mate standing guard by their den no more than thirty feet from our trailer.  I’ve tried to get close to them, thinking they might stand and fight to protect their babies, but they are always keen to seek higher ground. Great parenting skills. Interesting/funny/gross fact about these guys: they will place pieces of dung around their dens to attract dung beetles for food. How's that for a fishing technique, Uncle Dick?

Rusty-collared Seedeater: This girl may not look like much, but anyone who has ever held, and therefore been bitten by, a cardinal knows that she can pack a punch. Think about it, for this little species to be able to open seeds must mean that it wields a formidable beak. Of course all efforts to capture said seedeaters have been fruitless (literally; they eat seeds, remember?), but hopefully once the net-guns come in we will have more success.

Chalk-browed Mockingbird: You may be familiar with this guy’s cousin, the Northern Mockingbird.  While they are separated by thousands of miles, the two species certainly share at least one thing in common: they are some territorial s.o.b’s. Almost every morning we are greeted by this guy flying into the tree above our trailer and harping at us to leave “his” space. We usually try to ignore him, but sometimes we decide to harp back at him, usually until he is so confused that he lets us have our space back (Phil, you know our pain).

Great Egret: You may recognize this guy, as he is common in the US. I’ll let you think of something to say here. Or maybe look something up and tell me what you find. I’ll be waiting…

Monk Parakeet: Before coming to Argentina, I was under the impression that monks would take vows of silence. Apparently these guys aren’t that devout. In singles or pairs, the squawking is bearable, a pleasing reminder that we are in South America, the motherland of birds. But in groups, nesting up in the power towers? Chaos. Wu Tang might bring the “mother-fuckin ruckus”, but they ain’t got shit on this crew.

Fork-tailed Flycatcher: Check out the tail on that mother! According to my sources (aka the internet) this species has the longest tail in relation to its body size of any bird in the world. Why would anyone want to have such a ridiculous ornament? The ladies dig it. Not only does it get their feathers ruffled, but it also proves to them that you are one healthy hunk. If you can fly around with that hindrance of a tail and not get eaten, you must be one hell of a bird.

Guira Cuckoo: Sweet do, dude! (Maybe tough to see here) This looks like the lead singer from the Sex Pistols got drunk in a pet store and had his way with the macaws. Usually we’ll see four or five of these guys flying form tree to tree, flashing their long tails behind them. That’s how you know it’s a Guira, by the long tail. That or the hair. Or the call. Or the fact that it looks like a Guira Cuckoo. But if you can’t go on any of those, go with the tail.

Rufous-collared Sparrow: I first saw this guy in Buenos Aires, sitting in a fruit tree next to an uproar of Monk Parakeets. In my haste, I labeled this guy a special find, drawn in by the beautiful stripes and rufous neck. Of course, if only I had stopped to think what it must mean for this bird is able to live in BA, maybe I wouldn’t have been so surprised when we began seeing these guys everywhere in Santa Fe. Still, they really are beautiful birds, and to get to see them so often is a special treat.

Southern Lapwing: Possibly the winner of the most annoying bird at the site. There’s alarm calling, and then there’s this guy. Any time we get close to a lapwing (by close I mean within 50 feet) it begins a spinning verbal assault on everything below. In case the other birds hadn’t noticed the two humans bumbling around in giant condoms, now they know.

Yellow-chinned Spinetail: Can you see the porcu-spines on this guy?  This aptly named passerine has become more and more common around the site.  We recently had a brood fledge on the eastern peninsula of Florida (see “Lay of the Land”). Every time we walk along that stretch, the family pops up from the tall grasses and plays what seems like a fearful game of tag, flying from snag to snag all the way down the peninsula.

Bare-faced Ibis: Of the three species of Ibis found at our site (others being White-faced and Green) this is by far the most common. We often find them perched on dead trees, as seen here, but they are more likely to be found pecking around in the mud for small crustaceans.

Chestnut-fronted Blackbird: You may be tempted to pass this guy over among the unicolored blackbirds and shining cowbirds, but don’t be so dumb. In South America a black bird is not just another black bird, proven here by this red-faced Icterid. These guys are fairly common around the site, but always a treat to see.

Ruddy Ground-dove: There are about a half-dozen Columbids (look it up) at our site, none of which was more difficult to identify than this guy (my binocs for good plates!), who is probably the least common of them all. He still has the characteristic dove look and head turns, giving you the impression that there may not be any wheels turning up in that tiny skull.

Wattled Jacana: Ever wanted to walk on water? (Well you shouldn’t! You ain’t Jesus!!) Maybe you should talk with this guy. His feet are so big (more like his toes are so long) that he can walk on the top of floating vegetation in search of invertebrates. It’s like having a pair of permanent snowshoes! (except, you know, using them on water and not snow)

Snail Kite: I never would have thought that a raptor could be so abundant. It must be the smorgasbord of apple snails, because there are always at least a dozen snail kites flying around the site. The orange talons and beak of this species are beautiful, especially contrasted against the dark body. I doubt that these tools are as necessary now as they were centuries or millennia ago, when they were hunting a prey that could actually escape, but why the hell would anything want to give up such sweet weapons? (note: the beak is actually great for ripping snails out of their shells; the curvature is perfect for really digging up in there to evict those gastropods from their homes).

Rufous Hornero: Here he is, Mr. Argentina, the national bird himself. These guys aren’t just all over our field site; they’re all over Santa Fe. In the parks, backyards, roads, buildings, shoes, children’s backpacks, sofa cushions. They’re everywhere. As boring as this may make the Hornero seem, one really must appreciate an evolutionary design that has allowed a species to dominate the landscape (just like the Rock Pigeon we all love so much). While it may not be as exciting a find as a Kirtland’s Warbler or Eastern Scrub-jay, they are none less the awesome, and very good singers, too.

Striated Heron (L) and Black-crowned Night-heron (R): How awesome is this! Two superb hunters in one shot! They may look like bumps on a log, but they are quite  attuned to the subtle splishes and splashes below them. Could they even work as a tandem? While one cannonballs into the shallows, sending small fish flying into the air, the other will swoop in to snag the fish out of the air. And if you can believe that, we also had a Dodo sighting the other week (I tried to get a picture, but he was too clever for me).

Red-crested Cardinal: What a beauty. One of two cardinal species at our site (the other being the Yellow-billed), the Red-crested Cardinal is always a pleasure to find. It may be the contrasting body, but the red head looks to be on fire, perhaps bolder than the North American Cardinal we are familiar with. If my cousin Frank rocked a Mohawk, I think he’d look like this guy.

Maguari Stork: I’ve saved the best for last.  This is probably my favorite bird at the site. It’s not often that we find these guys, and when we do it is usually for no more than a minute, so we take in the majesty while we can. These monsters can stand around 4 feet tall and have a sword of a beak. Forget about humans, this guy could carry a baby hippo home from the hospital! What a beast.

I hope this will slake your thirst for photo'd feather'd flyers, you ravenous bird lovers you. Now go watch the Heels stomp all over wisconsin.