It was the kind of day we dream about having for the bird count: clear, still, and mild. My day started an hour before dawn when Peter and I met in a local park, hoping to hear a burrowing owl. All we got for our troubles was a great horned owl gliding close over our heads. We split up as the sky lightened; he went to Elings Park and I went to Bohnett Park, where I had to try to find a couple of stakeout birds. Stakeouts are rare birds that have been consistently seen or heard in an area and have a good chance of being found on the big day. I got lucky.
The eastern phoebe, which managed to disappear high into the trees most times when birders were in pursuit, was sitting on a boulder in plain view. This proved to be the only one seen in the count circle, as was the next bird I hoped to see at Bohnett. It didn’t take long before I found the venerable warbling vireo, warming in the first of the sun’s rays to hit the willows. This bird has now returned to the park for 12 years, and every year I think it will be its last.
My luck held at the zoo, where, for many years now, I have had the privilege of birding before the public is allowed entry. There was another stakeout bird there, an orchard oriole. I anticipated a long wait for her to show, but she came after only a five-minute wait — perfect. The oriole was another that was the only one for the count. Two male Wilson’s warblers and a tropical kingbird were good finds at the zoo as well.
