Free Range Photography

A lot of people who love birds also love keeping lists of the birds they’ve seen. The really serious ones know which birds they’ve seen in which county and consequently which ones they need to make their county lists more complete. I am far too lazy for that, but I do keep a life list of all the birds I’ve seen in the US and, more dear to my heart, I keep a yard list.

A yard list is a personal record of all the birds you’ve seen in your home “yard”, a term you get to define. Having lived on this little stretch of the South Fork of the Eel River for over 50 years, I extend my yard a quarter mile or so along the river and around a bend downstream. When you’ve seen all the usual suspects in your “yard” and put them on a list, the growth of the list naturally declines because rarities or birds who have lost their way just don’t happen that often and almost all of what you see is already on the list.

In my case it might be one or two new yard birds a year, or occasionally the year passes without a single new yard bird. So when you get two on one day and you get more than a brief glimpse of each one, it’s a great delight.

Before the sun came up On August 30 I parked myself in a favorite hiding place right beside the water and started to watch morning come over the river. I soon heard a high pitched squeaky shorebird kind of noise and a medium small shorebird unknown to me appeared just a few yards downstream to my right. I snapped pictures and took a short video, and then of course my camera battery died. I did manage to get enough of a look and few decent snaps that I was able to make a guess of Solitary Sandpiper on the bird’s ID before it flew off. This was a bird that not only would be new to my yard list, but also would be new on my life list! Rounding out the trifecta of birdwatching glory, it would get me on the rare bird alert, the very best kind of fifteen minutes of fame. I kept checking the back of my camera and the app on my phone and finally sent a picture to bird guru and friend Rob Fowler (yes that’s his real name) and he confirmed.

A bit later that morning, when my thrill had hardly worn off, a trio of ducks approached, slowly swimming along the same shore. They moved from the shade out into the sun and I could identify two of them easily: wood duck males, one adult and one juvenile. But the third I could not even guess at. It rode low on the water and had a huge dark gray bill. Light golden brownish overall made me think perhaps a female, but what?

Sometimes when you see something different you figure out what it isn’t and that helps you narrow down what it might be, and if I’d had more patience I might have eventually figured it out, but that laziness overcame me and I shot another cellphone snap of the back of my camera to Rob again, who let me know it was a juvenile Cinnamon Teal. New yard bird #2 of the morning! I have seen plenty of gorgeous reddish brown males of this species (the females are more subtly feathered, somewhat like the juvenile I saw), but never had one in my “yard” until that day.

I should mention on a side note that Rob is one of many Humboldt birders who have been very generous with their knowledge, not to mention kind and patient with me, and that we live in not only one of the birdiest places on earth, but among humans whose love for birds is freely shared for the good of all.