10,000 Birds

Costa Rica – Turrialba Volcano

Peter — Sat, 18 Jul 2026 11:00:36 +0000

My Big Year Rotterdam entitles me to having an opinion on other people’s Big Year efforts. Our guide Mercedes Alpizar has done a Big Year Costa Rica, so I thought (and nearly said) such an endeavour would be easy-peasy-lemonsqueezy when you live in a biodiversity hotspot. Fortunately, I kept my mouth shut (for once) and avoided some serious egg-on-face because birding in Costa Rica is more difficult than it seems at first glance. Why is birding so hard in Costa Rica, in the tropics in general? There are three big factors and they are all related to the landscape. First, there’s just an awful lot of vegetation. You can not see the forest for the trees. We saw our Resplendent Quetzal through five (!) layers of leaves, boughs, branches, ferns and other green stuff. And the bird was green too. Birds have the same visibility problem and that’s why their calls are so important, to them and to us. Birding in a tropical forest is birding by ear. Problem number two is now obvious: you need to know all these calls and in Costa Rica that’s a grand total of a thousand calls. Finally, there are not that many birds. The tropics may be biodiverse, but they are not biomassive. However, with a good guide birding in the tropics is a lot of fun. And we had a good guide. Mercedes took us up the Turrialba Volcano. We drove down into the town of Turrialba (ears popping) and then drove up the volcano (ears popping again). The volcano is active but fortunately the birds are below the business end of things. We saw hummingbirds (Talamanca Hummingbird, Fiery-throated Hummingbird, and Volcano Hummingbird), woodcreepers (Spot-crowned Woodcreeper, Buffy Tuftedcheek,and Ruddy Treerunner), tyrant-flycatchers (Mountain Elaenia, Ochraceous Pewee, Dark Pewee, Yellowish Flycatcher, and Black-capped Flycatcher), thrushes (Black-billed Nightingale-Thrush, Ruddy-capped Nightingale-Thrush, and Sooty Thrush), tanagers (Spangle-cheeked Tanager and Slaty Flowerpiercer), warblers (Flame-throated Warbler, Black-cheeked Warbler, Collared Redstart, and Costa Rican Warbler) and an assortment of bits and bobs (Red-tailed Hawk, Hairy Woodpecker, Yellow-winged Vireo, Rufous-browed Peppershrike, Long-tailed Silky-flycatcher, Black-and-yellow Silky-flycatcher, Yellow-bellied Siskin, Ochraceous Wren, Sooty-capped Chlorospingus, Yellow-thighed Brushfinch, Eastern Meadowlark, and Barred Becard). And then, the cream, icing and cherry on the cake: the aforementioned Resplendent Quetzal. The bird had been conveniently indicated by a road sign but that did not help in getting a decent picture. We ended up taking stills from a digiscoped video, not ideal and I am sure some photographers’ toes are curling as we speak. Maya rulers valued the Resplendent Quetzal‘s feathers as symbols of power, fecundity and such. It was forbidden to kill a quetzal and the feathers were taken from captured birds that were then released again. This historical anecdote demonstrates a behavioural trait of the quetzal: it’s a trogon and trogons do not do a lot, they’re sluggish and dare I say it, a bit boring. Colourful they may be, but if you are interested in behaviour (or just movement), there are many other birds in Costa Rica that are more worthwhile to seek out. I’m glad I saw the bird, but it is not my Costa Rican favourite. That honour can only be reserved for a manakin, the topic of my next post. Sooty-capped Chlorospingus by lwolfartist, CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0, via Wikimedia Commons All other bird photographs by Brad Nelson.

Vermillion Flycatchers

Tom Brown — Sat, 18 Jul 2026 11:00:00 +0000

This post is republished in our “From the Archives” series, featuring highlights of our vast back catalogue of more than 10,000 birding-related posts published over the last 15 years or so. This one of the greatest times ever to be here on the southern Baja. The weather is cooling off, the water is still nice and warm, and the migratory birds are literally flocking into the area. The eBird.com rare species lists that pop up in my e-mail are inspiring a major twitch, to say the least. Cackling Geese, Black Oystercatchers, Pectoral and Solitary Sandpipers, even a couple of mainland Mexico mainstays, the Broad-billed Hummingbird and the Great-tailed Grackle have all been spotted. Yesterdays list of warblers found just to the north of La Paz, has me very hopeful that a few of them will pay us a visit just a little farther south. One eBird list contained Lucy’s, Cape May, Palm and Pine Warblers, none of which I have ever seen down here. Now if they just weren’t 450 miles north of here, and I did not have a very full work schedule. The longing for new warblers, and their bright beautiful colors got me thinking, perhaps I should be happy with what we do have, especially one of my favorites, the Vermillion Flycatcher. This bright red bird, with the male at least, is just gorgeous. They tend to be comfortable around people, and are certainly easy to spot! In a world full of Empidonax Flycatchers, and their “all look the same” plumage, it is very nice to be able to enjoy this bright flash of red, in a sometime dull, drab, desert world. Here is a nice shot of the male Vermillion Flycatcher. And the slightly less colorful female. And here are a couple of fuzzy little babies I found earlier in the year.

A Swift summer

David T — Fri, 17 Jul 2026 15:59:00 +0000

Late July is, for me, always a sad time of the year, as we say goodbye to the Swifts (Apus apus) that have graced our skies for the past three months. Of all the birds that nest in Britain, few spend such little time here. They arrive back in late April or early May, and leave again shortly after fledging their chicks. This is usually in late July, but because of the hot, Swift-friendly weather we…

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Species Spotlight: Chestnut-sided Warbler

Kai Pflug — Fri, 17 Jul 2026 11:00:00 +0000

Full disclosure: I am not familiar with North American birds at all. So, I will probably write quite a few posts excitedly discussing species that our readers in the US find boring as hell. Well, you are more than welcome to come to Shanghai and talk about your fascination with Light-vented Bulbuls and Oriental Magpie-robins … The Chestnut-sided Warbler was a particular surprise to me – by the looks of it, a bird I would have located somewhere in the neotropics (where, admittedly, it wisely spends the winter), not in the then rather frigid Maine. It is an attractive and interesting-looking bird – or, to quote James Giroux: “Unlike many warblers that are precisely ‘painted’, the Chestnut-sided is a splotchy collection of color – more like an abstract painting. It’s the Jackson Pollock of warblers.” Apparently, it has benefited dramatically from human activities in the US, preferring scrubby habitats such as those in suburbs or cemeteries (where I took my photos) to primeval forests (source: HBW). It may also benefit from climate change – one paper states that it now (after 1970) arrives seven days earlier in spring in a specific region than before 1970. In the HBW profile, it is interesting to see what is listed as priorities for future research: “To define where songs are used and under what conditions, variability in the use of songs needs more study. The extreme stereotypy of the AE song category raises several interesting questions. By what means is the stereotypy of the AE songs enforced, and what is the significance of this?” Of course, for most global bird species, not nearly enough information is available to even phrase such follow-on questions. And of course, the HBW profiles for these birds do not even have a “Priorities for Future Research” section …

Demotivational Posters for Birds (XL)

Kai Pflug — Fri, 17 Jul 2026 10:16:58 +0000

There is no motivational poster showing a sweating guy pushing a heavy rock up a hill, nor is there one showing it rolling down again. And yet, Albert Camus argues that Sisyphos has to be imagined as a happy person. Maybe, with this in mind, our demotivational posters may indeed be suitable for hanging up in some nesting cavities?

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Five Birds That Look Like Dinosaurs

Kai Pflug — Thu, 16 Jul 2026 11:00:00 +0000

Start with a note for the sticklers who will – reading the headline – itch to write down a comment along the lines of “all birds are dinosaurs”: please keep that comment for yourself. And think about how search engine optimization would be affected if the headline was changed to “Five Birds that are dinosaurs and even look like dinosaurs, which is not very surprising as they are dinosaurs”. Thank you for your attention.Where were we? Right. For some reason, whenever there is a list of weird birds to be prepared, the Hoatzin is almost certain to appear on it. In this case, because it looks like a dinosaur (see above). In my own birdwatching, the resemblance was the most striking for juvenile Black-crowned Night Herons, as seen in Shanghai. Southern Cassowaries are not only flightless (good for dinosaur imitation) but also have the big legs, small wings, and robust bodies associated with dinosaurs. Moreover, they give a bit of a Jurassic Park vibe as they are capable of inflicting serious injury, with at least one documented fatality. The news of this event gushed over the “with knife-like claws” of the bird. The Great Curassow looks like a feathered dinosaur reconstructed from bones by a taxidermist who, in his spare time, also creates expressionist paintings. And indeed, a Facebook page titled Wildlife Planet claims, “This bird looks like it walked straight out of the age of dinosaurs.” Finally, the Greater Roadrunner resembles a Velociraptor dinosaur from Jurassic Park. In an article written by the digital editorial director of Audubon magazine, he writes, “Roadrunners look and move like modern dinosaurs, as if they are tapping into some long-lost remnant of velociraptor DNA”. So, dear comment writers, better address your “birds are dinosaurs” comments to him, not to me. Photo Credits: “Hoatzin (Opisthocomus hoazin)” by David Cook Wildlife Photography is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0. “Hoatzins in Brazil” by Cláudio Dias Timm from Rio Grande do Sul is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0. “4489ex P900 Southern Cassowary” by jjjj56cp is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0. “Great Curassow” by dreed41 is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0. “Geococcyx californianus” by drumguy8800 (xvisionx.com) is licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0.

Great Blue Heron: Grace, Patience, and Presence

Kelly Isley — Thu, 16 Jul 2026 10:54:22 +0000

Few birds are as recognizable and captivating as the Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias). Whether standing motionless at the edge of a quiet marsh or gliding overhead with slow, powerful wingbeats, this elegant wading bird embodies patience, precision, and grace. At up to 4½ feet tall and with a wingspan close to 6 feet, it is the largest heron in North America. Its blue-gray feathers, long legs, and sharp bill make it easy to recognize. When it flies, with its neck tucked in an S-shape and legs trailing behind, it stands out from any other bird you’ll see along wetlands, rivers, lakes, or coastlines. Even though it looks calm, the Great Blue Heron is a skilled hunter. It often stands still or moves slowly through shallow water, then strikes quickly to catch its prey. Fish are their primary prey, but they also eat frogs, reptiles, insects, rodents, and other small animals. Their excellent eyesight, with many rod-type photoreceptors, helps them see well at night, so they can hunt both day and night. Great Blue Herons are found throughout most of North America and thrive wherever shallow water provides food. They inhabit marshes, estuaries, rivers, lakes, ponds, and coastal shorelines, but are just as comfortable around reservoirs, farm fields, and urban parks. Their ability to adapt allows them to flourish in habitats ranging from remote wetlands to neighborhood ponds and golf courses. Once you recognize their large silhouette and slow, deliberate wingbeats, you’ll begin noticing them almost everywhere. During the breeding season, Great Blue Herons gather in nesting colonies known as heronries. These thriving colonies may contain dozens or even hundreds of bulky stick nests built high in trees, on cliffs, in mangroves, or occasionally on man-made structures. Males arrive first to claim nesting sites before attracting a mate through elaborate courtship displays. Although pairs remain together for a single breeding season, they typically choose a new partner the following year. Once airborne, these impressive birds cruise comfortably at 20-30 mph, with bursts approaching 35 mph when needed. Their combination of size, strength, and graceful flight makes them unforgettable to watch. The oldest recorded Great Blue Heron lived for more than 24 years, evidence of this remarkable species’ resilience. Yet despite their impressive size and longevity, they remain symbols of patience and quiet precision, often standing silently for minutes before making a single decisive strike. Whether seen stalking a quiet shoreline or soaring high overhead, the Great Blue Heron is one of North America’s most captivating birds. For photographers, the Great Blue Heron is an equally rewarding subject. While a tripod can be useful in some situations, handholding your camera often allows you to react quickly when a heron suddenly takes flight or changes direction. A solid shooting stance, with your elbows tucked comfortably against your body, creates a stable platform while allowing you to pivot smoothly and follow the bird in flight. If a tree or other sturdy object is nearby, using it for support can add stability without sacrificing mobility. Whether photographing a heron patiently hunting in the shallows or photographing its slender silhouette near the evening sky, patience and preparation are often rewarded with memorable images of these impressive birds.

My 1966 Field Guide

Paul Lewis — Thu, 16 Jul 2026 10:00:00 +0000

I’m reasonably sure that I did not start really paying attention to birds until 1968, when I would have turned ten years old, or later. Back then, of course, we couldn’t even dream of digital photography, or a magical phone that would fit in one’s pocket and could carry a digital bird guide in an app. So the two indispensable elements for any birder were a good pair of binoculars and a book with pictures of each species, a map of their distribution, and a brief description. Mine was the 1966 “Golden Field Guide” to Birds of North America. I am not, by nature, a hoarder. And yet, somehow, I still own this book. Only about half of its paperback binding still does its job, and it definitely looks the worse for wear. But I still have it with me. It occurred to me, as I thought about writing this post, that I may still own it precisely because I stopped birding during my middle years; I was just interested enough to want to keep a field guide with me each time I moved, but not interested enough to buy a new one. (For the record, I also still own the first Spanish-language guide to Mexico’s birds that I bought after moving to Mexico in 1983.) The Golden Field Guide cost me the princely sum of $3.95 USD. Shockingly, that means it was slightly more expensive in current dollars than my latest 2017 National Geographic Field Guide to the Birds of North America, which cost me $22.95 a few years ago. For the most part, the two books have a similar format, with range maps and a brief description on the left, and painted illustrations on the right. But the older book is much smaller, so its descriptions are much shorter, and it omits rare border-area birds entirely. I imagine this is because bird guides in those days were true field guides, meant to be carried into the field while birding. Nowadays, we just use our mobile phones. And the Golden Field Guide includes visual sonograms for most birds’ songs, which is no longer very helpful in our age of xeno-canto and phone apps with multiple recordings for each species. Of course, no one is thinking of buying a 1966 guide today. Instead, the value in looking at such an old book is what it reveals about changes in our natural world and bird science. The taxonomy presented there is wildly different from today’s taxonomy. Back then, falcons were closely related to hawks and vultures, but owls were not. Flamingos were related to herons. The Yellow-breasted Chat and Olive Warbler had not yet been expelled from the wood warblers. When you get into taxonomic names, things get really wild. The Golden Field Guide lists 9 members of the Vermivora genus of Wood Warblers; today, only two are named as such. In that book’s defense, a third member, Bachman’s Warbler, may have gone extinct since then. In fact, very few of the taxonomic names for Wood Warblers in the 1966 edition still work today. This observation touches a nerve for me, because while birding with my Mexican friends we must decide whether to use Mexican common names, taxonomic names in Latin, or the ABA-approved English common names. Almost nobody uses common names in Spanish, as they have never been standardized and change from town to town, or state to state. Some of my biologist friends prefer to use taxonomic names, a choice which I respect. But my 1966 field guide reveals that English names are enormously more stable than the Latin names. A relatively few English names (Pigeon Hawk? Sparrow Hawk? Boat-tailed Grackle?) have changed in the last 60 years. Still, even English names have been greatly complicated by the many splits and lumps that have occurred in the same period. We still talk about Audubon’s and Myrtle Warblers, but they have long been joined into the Yellow-rumped Warbler species. White-winged, Slate-colored, Oregon, and Gray-headed Juncos are all now Dark-eyed Juncos, while the Mexican Junco’s name was changed to Yellow-eyed Junco, perhaps to align with the new name for the more northerly species. Perhaps the greatest changes can be found in the section dedicated to birds of prey. The DDT-laced 1960s were terrible times for these charismatic birds. The Bald Eagle population in the American “lower 48” states dropped to only some 500 breeding pairs. Today it breeds anew across most of Canada, all the way to the Atlantic, and in much of the United States, with a total population of around one hundred times what could be found back in the 1960s. Peregrine Falcons, which then bred only in the Arctic, now breed over much of North America, even in Mexico. Similar recoveries can be seen for American Kestrels (then called “Sparrow Hawks”), Prairie Falcons, and Ospreys. And extraordinary conservation efforts have allowed even the critically endangered California Condor, then with a population of only some 50 birds, to increase its population nine-fold and return to three American and one Mexican states. It was interesting to see the 1966 range map for the Old World Western Cattle Egret, then just starting its march across America’s southeastern states. It only shows the species established in Florida, although it was actually well on its way to conquering the entire continental U.S. and Mexico. There was no entry for the now-ubiquitous Eurasian Collared Dove, as those did not arrive until 1974. But other species have increased their ranges in more natural ways. Every species shown on the following page, with the exception of the American Flamingo, has since expanded northward. (The “Wood Ibis” shown here is now more correctly known as the Wood Stork.) In fact, spending time with my 1966 field guide turned out to be a surprisingly encouraging experience. While we all know that overall bird populations have dropped by 30% since then, many individual species are holding on quite well. To quote the title of one of my favorite...