Birding Story – My Birding World

Flood Zone Birding

December 31, 2025 Elizabeth Olin Comments 0 Comment

The California Central Valley is situated in a flood zone. The last major flood was in 1862, causing loss of life and extensive damage in the area and beyond. Modern infrastructure, such as Yolo bypass, attempts to account for future major flood events.

Near my home, there is a small community park. This is my birding patch – an area you frequently bird, allowing you to intimately know its natural rhythms. I’ve always thought it odd that this park was sunken down in the middle, shaped like an enormous bowl. My first winter here quickly showed me the park’s dual purpose: it is a part of a flood control system. A particularly rainy season turned the park into a lake, drawing waterfowl and kayaks alike. I was delighted by all the birds swimming in the lake: Mallards, Cinnamon Teals, Buffleheads, even Common Mergansers! But soon the water receded and the park did not reach that high level of water in the following drought-ridden years.

It’s been another dry December with no recent rains except a splendid couple of days in November when a good dousing cleaned the air and sidewalks. Imagine my surprise when I saw large puddles forming in the park – where is this coming from? I saw construction workers observing the park as the water continued to slowly seep in. I’m guessing that they were testing out the flood management system.

Each morning I eagerly put on my binoculars and walked my usual loops around the park, not knowing how long the water would remain. Although a far cry from the previous lake levels, there was just enough water to encourage a flurry of activity.

Greater Yellowlegs seemed to be the first to find this temporary feeding ground. I counted dozens poking around at once. Joining them were a handful of Long-billed Dowitchers, usually grouped together at the water’s edge. Three Wilson Snipes delighted me. Despite their bold brown colors against green grass, it was remarkably difficult to find the snipes when they scrunched down to the ground, so well camouflaged are their markings.

A Great Egret, Great Blue Heron, Black-necked Stilts, and over a hundred California Gulls joined the foraging flock. All the birds would take off when the resident Cooper’s Hawk would fly overhead, but just as quickly settle back into their feeding frenzy, likely pulling up worms or, for the larger birds, stabbing at the gophers.

Our neighborhood is home to a surprising number of cats, both feral and outdoor kitties. They like to sit in the park and stare down gopher holes, playing a real life version of Whack-a-Mole. Outdoor cats are not good for birds, and while I adore kitties and pet the friendly ones, I uselessly admonish them when they stalk birds.

With the park sporting new and interesting birds, the cats were sitting at the edge of the water, no doubt frustrated by this wet barrier between them and the hunt. However, one cat caught sight of an unsuspecting American Pipit that was foraging near the small lake. I saw the cat crouch into hunting mode, and, fearing the worst, I clapped my hands to distract the cat. I managed to scare the gulls, which took off into flight, but the cat was only momentarily distracted. So I stomped up to the cat, giving it firm words of shame, and finally the pipit flew away. I’ve never seen a cat give me such a dirty glare as this one. Sorry bud. As I tell the other cats, “no eating the birds!”

The water has been receding, so the bird activity will return to the usual neighborhood residents. I’m hoping we will get some good rain soon. We sure need it, and it gives a fun change of scenery in my daily walks.

Neighborhood Treasures

October 7, 2025 Elizabeth Olin

Lawrence's Goldfinches and Lesser Goldfinch

Two Lawrence’s Goldfinches and a Lesser Goldfinch eating among yellow and pink flowers

Sometimes birds pop up in spots where you least expect them. Where I live, the urban sprawl is viciously pushing the boundaries between development and fields. The rural landscape of active farmlands is being gobbled up by a dizzying number of houses and shopping centers. I’ve been mourning the clear reduction of Barn Swallows that previously nested in our neighborhood and the lack of Yellow-billed Magpies that we would see eating in the fields.

But there are signs of hope. New human-made ponds, likely intended for flood management, are popping up, attracting waterfowl and shorebirds. One such pond is in the middle of an enormous construction project next to a community park. Last winter, water filled this pond giving life to a marsh-like environment. White-crowned Sparrows, Lincoln Sparrows, Song Sparrows, and Savannah Sparrows could all be found running around the exposed dirt. Marsh Wrens sang their funky tune from the cattails. American Pipits walked with their long gait along the fence. But what really delighted me was the Virginia Rail and Soras that called this little oasis their home during the winter. One Sora would give its whinnying call and set off the other two or three at various locations, which then gave rise to the rail’s grunts. All this could be found tucked in this little spot in the middle of a housing development.

Fast forward to spring and this spot held another surprise. Wildflowers sprouted suddenly, transforming the bare metal fence into a painting exploding with little pink and yellow flowers. A large mixed flock of Lesser Goldfinches and American Goldfinches were devouring this food source, as if assuming the flowers would be gone soon (in fact, the flowers were mowed down not too long afterwards). A closer inspection of the flock revealed multiple Lawrence’s Goldfinches – a pure treat for this area! Their uniquely-marked faces and pale gray plumage made them stand out from the other goldies. They stuck around for nearly a week, despite their well-known propensity for wandering for food and not staying put.

Killdeer nest with four eggs camouflaged on the ground

A final fun surprise was finding a Killdeer nest just outside of the safety of the fence. We nearly stepped on the four eggs – their camouflage was so well done, and then spotted the parent nearby nervously watching. I took a quick picture on my phone and left the nest immediately. I’m not sure about the nest’s fate as I didn’t find the time to check on it again, but I hope it survived the challenges of breeding in the middle of a big housing area, giving life to future generations of birds.

New Year in September

September 3, 2025 Elizabeth Olin

Red Leaves of Fall

September has arrived, and while the summer heat is still hanging on, I always feel a shift that represents a new beginning. To me, fall brings the joy of a new year. We have three consecutive seasons of non-stop bird action: fall migration, winter birds, and then spring migration with all its colorful and musical glory. Summer ends all the fun, shooing us indoors to escape the blazing sun while the birds largely go quiet.

Now the days are starting to get a bit shorter, and the sun will soon be beaming at us from a different angle offering a touch of relief. Some birds will start to get restless and eventually fly away in search of better weather, and we start to see the arrival of our winter visitors. I look forward to hearing the songs of the small group of White-crown Sparrows that call our backyard home, and the daily visits from an Orange-crowned Warbler and Ruby-crowned Kinglet.

It’s only weeks away when the weather here should finally be conducive to venturing out for birding. Then we have plenty of months ahead of nonstop birding joy. It’s the beginning of a new year of fun!

Jay Observations

August 7, 2024 Elizabeth Olin

California Scrub-Jay sitting in tree branches

I’ve been writing in this blog since 2018. It has brought me so much joy to share my experiences. At times, I’ve written obsessively, posting multiple times a month. Other times, I’ve taken an extended break. Life requires that we have moments to pause, reflect, and rest our minds.

This year has been one of those times where a longer break was necessary. For the first part of the year, I was exhausted after a marathon race of participating in the Big Year competition. When I finally regained some energy around birding, then summer reared its ugly head and I had to switch gears to surviving the hottest summer I’ve ever experienced. Staying indoors to escape the heat caused my birding world to narrow dramatically to just my backyard. Even the birds found it too hot and largely stayed in the shade and out of sight.

Despite being house-bound to escape the heat, I did have an opportunity to make some interesting observations. Namely, the California Scrub-Jays have commanded my attention as of late. I never really paid attention to these local birds, but watching a large group of them take over my backyard over the summer offered some fascinating insights into their behavior.

For one thing, they are certainly mischievous. I’ve had to battle them to keep my container garden growing. I don’t mind that they bury plum seeds and dog food in my pots, but I do get annoyed when they start messing with my plants. One year I tried planting garlic and we had an extended battle over keeping the bulbs in the ground. Each day the jays would rip out the garlic and damage the bulbs. They wouldn’t eat them, so apparently the jays just didn’t want the garlic in the pots. I had to stick with growing garlic indoors in water (which is easy and yummy, by the way).

The jays enjoy hopping around my pots

This year I tried planting more flowers in the backyard. I thought that succulents would be a good option in this environment, so I purchased two tiny succulents to add to two small pots. Over the course of a week, the jays uprooted the succulents and flung them across the yard on multiple occasions. Even after I lined the edges of the pots with a bunch of BBQ skewers, they still managed to grab the plants and toss them aside. I ended up relocating the pots close to the backyard door, which seems to have finally dissuaded the jays from messing around with these particular plants.

Despite the frustrations with gardening, The jays have been fun to watch as they bathe in the bird bath I set up. There is definitely a pecking order where one is permitted to splash around in the water while the others are sidelined and forced to watch. Only when the alpha bird decides it’s done do the other jays have a chance to drink and bathe.

One day while indoors, I heard a jay calling and I said to my husband, “They must be taking a bath.” Sure enough, there was a jay splashing around in the water. I realized at that point that they have a certain call that I interpret as, “Hey guys, I’m taking a bath!” I can hear that particular call from across the house with the blinds closed and know that they are playing in the water. According to All About Birds, researchers have identified at least 20 different types of jay calls. I think I uncovered one of those calls and can now partially speak jay language!

If you have any California Scrub-Jays around, it might be worth paying a bit more attention to them. They are certainly funny creatures to watch.

Dipping

December 20, 2023 Elizabeth Olin

Birders often like to keep lists. A popular list is your “life list”, which is a list of birds that you’ve seen over the course of your life. When you add a new bird to that list, it’s called a “lifer.”

There’s a tradition that some birders follow when they add a lifer to their list. You celebrate with a Lifer Pie. For a fun story and the history behind this tradition, check out Audubon’s article, “Birding Is its Own Reward, but ‘Lifer Pie’ Makes it Even Sweeter.”

My sister likes to celebrate with an alternative sweet reward: a Bird Day Cake (as opposed to a birthday cake – get it?). As someone not particularly fond of pies, I prefer this mode of sugar indulgence much better.

Now opposite of getting a new life bird, there’s this thing called “dipping.” Say there is a bird that someone else has reported. If you go out looking for it but end the day missing your target bird, that’s called dipping.

I’ve dipped a ton this year. There were a lot of rare birds reported throughout the county that were required viewing in order to remain competitive for the Big Year. Despite multiple attempts to nab said bird, our efforts were for naught on countless occasions.

Take for example a recent adventure to find a Franklin’s Gull that popped by for a brief visit to a sewage pond. Upon hearing the report, a mass migration of local birders landed on this spot. I was running errands in another county when the WhatsApp chat exploded with updates. My husband and I raced home to grab our gear and rushed off to the ponds. Upon arrival, we walked as quickly as we could to the group who “had the Franklin’s Gull in their scope.” I took a quick look – no gull. Where was the gull? “It was just here, where did it go?” Gone.

We stayed for an hour-and-a-half, long after all the other birders left, looking for the gull and it never returned. As we set to leave, another birder came by and we wished him luck. Apparently our words are magical because as we pulled out of the lot, my phone blasted a text from the birder saying he got the gull. We rushed back to find him. “I had him in my binoculars a moment ago, but now I don’t see him!” The light was quickly fading and the gulls were leaving. No Franklin Gull for us. That is a great example of dipping. (The next day we returned and did find the Franklin Gull, so it was only a momentary setback).

Returning to the topic of Lifer Pie, my sister came up with a brilliant food-related idea to cheer up an otherwise sad ending: celebrate a dipping event with dips! Artichoke dip, hummus, dipping sauces accompanying fried foods, tzatziki, anything you like.

It’s probably best to find a dip that is on the healthier side because there’s a lot of dipping that happens with birding, although that just makes the successes that much sweeter – figuratively and literally with Lifer Pie!

Surprise Visitor

October 7, 2023 Elizabeth Olin

Anna’s Hummingbird, 2023

Our backyard has seen a lot of bird action since we moved to San Joaquin Valley. California Scrub-Jays love to hop around and cache food in various places, including the lawn and (rather annoyingly) my garden pots. Black Phoebes like to snatch insects from the air in the evenings. White-crowned Sparrows, Northern Mockingbirds, and Eurasian Collared-Doves will poke around the lawn edges for scrumptious bits of food. Occasionally a hummingbird will hover around the Crepe Myrtle trees looking for bugs.

More recently, Anna’s and Black-chinned Hummingbirds have enjoyed my new mason jar feeder. I even had a magical experience with one impatiently sipping from the feeder while I was still holding it. I spent many warm evenings over the summer watching the two hummingbird species go to battle over this food source, giving me a great opportunity to soak up their personalities.

Anna’s Hummingbird, 2023

One evening, I stepped out into the backyard to look at my container garden and to see who might be at the feeder. As I bent down to look at the tender seedlings poking through the soil, an unfamiliar sound caught my attention. I glanced at the feeder and noticed that the call was coming from a little hummer perched on a branch not commonly favored by my usual visitors. I cautiously crept indoors fearing I would scare the hummingbird, and grabbed my husband and our cameras.

Mystery Hummingbird (Read On To Find Out The ID!), 2023

After a brief photoshoot, I had convinced myself that this was a young Black-chinned Hummingbird and went back indoors to eat dinner. I was content to carry on with the evening, but my husband rushed through dinner and went straight to his computer to review the photos. Annoyed that he left me to finish my meal alone, I slurped up the last bit of my soup and then casually joined him to look over the images.

This hummer was so cute! Its few gorget (neck) feathers were a vibrant purple, and it sat like a little puff ball patiently observing its surroundings. I started to wonder – is this actually a young Black-chinned Hummingbird or something else?

Grabbing chairs, cameras, monocular, and a phone to record audio, we quietly set up to watch the hummer – who was thankfully still there – as dusk started to arrive.

There was indeed something different about this one. The few gorget feathers were too purple. It didn’t seem as “necky” or as stretched out like the Black-chinned Hummingbird. And its mannerisms felt different to me, giving off a sense of peace and calm while he watched for nearby food competitors.

A Black-chinned Hummingbird arrived, evoking a series of TINKS from the new hummer. I managed to nab a recording of it. We continued to watch it for a half hour until it flew away for the night.

How lucky I was to capture the TINK audio! My heart started to race as I reviewed all the Anna’s and Black-chinned Hummingbird calls, wondering if we had simply heard an unusual vocalization from our familiar friends. However, none of the recordings lined up with ours. On a hunch, I called up a Costa’s Hummingbird and clicked on the first call. Excitement flooded my system as I heard an exact match. Could it be that we just saw a rare bird, and from our own backyard to boot? A quick post to our local birding group confirmed the ID. What a thrilling moment!

Costa’s Hummingbird; Photo by Gabriel Olin, 2023

It was only because I happened to step outside for a moment and observe an unusual call that we ended up spending time with this beauty. It goes to show that it’s not required that we memorize all the birds in a field guide. Instead, get to know your local birds well enough so that when something unique comes through, you’ll notice and pay attention to it.

Costa’s Hummingbird; Photo by Gabriel Olin, 2023

Summer’s Last Gasp

August 29, 2023 Elizabeth Olin

Western Sandpiper with one Sanderling, 2020

I’m quite sick of summer. The long, hot days and blindingly bright sun have overstayed their welcome. I’d like to think the birds are annoyed with summer as well. They are mostly silent these days, with the exception of the starlings practicing their cover songs. Birding over the summer has largely been uneventful.

As I trudged through June and July, I kept looking to August for a bit of relief. No, it’s not cooler in August by any means. But the birding excitement starts to pick up – it’s sandpiper migration! These tricky little birds offer an advanced lesson in bird ID, and when you’re in the midst of a Big Year, it’s time to learn (and refresh your memory) fast.

Least Sandpiper, 2020

In San Joaquin County, some of the best shorebird spots are around the Delta and water treatment plants. On mornings or evenings that were “cool” enough, we would venture out to the appropriate habitat and carefully review each peep (little sandpipers). Least Sandpipers and Killdeer offer good anchor points for IDs. The Leasts are the tiniest of our peeps while Killdeer are easily recognizable with the double-rings on their breast, red eyes, and persistent calls. From there, you can compare peeps in question with the Leasts and Killdeer based on size differences, bill shape, breast streaking, and sometimes leg color.

No matter how much I study, I cannot absorb the ID markers of a Semipalmated Sandpiper, which is a sandpiper that we need for the Big Year. It’s strikingly similar to the Western Sandpiper, the subtle differences being its overall size and its bill shape. Other peeps have more defined features to grasp, such as the Pectoral Sandpiper with its larger size and heavily-streaked breast, and the Baird’s Sandpiper with its long primary feathers that uniquely extend beyond its tail. These are solid structural features, not subjective features that require experience with the species – hard to do when it’s rare like the Semipalmated Sandpiper.

After many days spent in the hot sun looking through all the sandpipers, we finally spotted all the expected species that come through the area during August plus some bonus species, including the Semipalmated Sandpiper, Baird’s Sandpiper, Pectoral Sandpiper, Solitary Sandpiper, and Stilt Sandpiper. As the month – and therefore summer – finally comes to an end, our visits to sandpiper habitat will soon shift to looking for warblers and other fall goodies in wooded areas.

This morning was pleasantly cool, and the sun cast an orange glow through the trees. Fall is almost here, and I can’t wait!

Staten Island, CA, 2023

Disney Princess

June 13, 2023 Elizabeth Olin

At my old place, I tried out several bird feeders over the span of a few years. The first was a finch sock that attracted Lesser Goldfinches and House Finches, and it was a joy to watch. However, it got really messy with seeds strewn all over the place, and I feared attracting vermin. So I took it down. Then I tried a traditional hummingbird feeder with homemade sugar water. After a particularly hot week and forgetting to clean it, the feeder molded so badly that I had to throw it out, not confident that I could clean it well-enough to be safe for the birds. I tried another feeder to attract finches, and while it wasn’t as messy, a disease broke out amongst the birds and Audubon advised taking in all feeders in the area to stop its spread.

It’s a lot of work maintaining feeders. You have to make sure they are kept clean for the birds’ safety. Seed can get expensive and make a mess, causing other issues. Sugar water can attract ants and molds quickly in the summer heat. Although feeders bring joy, I didn’t have the energy to keep up with the required maintenance.

Fast forward to now, I impulsively bought a tiny Mason Jar with four silicone red flower portals for the hummers. I figured that it was such a small thing that I could maintain it better. Plus, the wide mouth would allow for easier cleaning. So far it’s been a hit with the Black-chinned Hummingbirds, and now Anna’s Hummingbirds are taking over.

A few days ago, I cleaned the feeder in the early evening just before the hummers tend to arrive. There was a female Anna’s dancing around the dead apricot tree where I usually hang the feeder (we kept the dead tree because the birds love to perch on it). The Anna’s was working its way along various skinny branches, picking at bugs caught in spiderwebs. A sudden inspiration hit me – would the hummer be bold enough to drink from the feeder while I hold it?

I approached with a painfully slow scoot so as not to scare it, holding the feeder chest-high and carefully positioning my fingers so that I could grip it with minimal movement. The Anna’s kept an eye on me as I inched closer and closer, my breath quickening with anticipation.

I got just close enough and the Anna’s flew over to me, dipping into the rubbery red flower and gulping up the new batch of cooled sugar water. I was so stunned that I couldn’t even look at it for fear of moving the feeder and spooking it. But, for what seemed like eternity, I finally moved my eyes down and watched this precious little bird downing the homemade nectar. I could hear its buzzing wings keeping it afloat and could sense how light this teeny little thing was.

I accidentally adjusted my finger which moved the feeder, and the Anna’s instinctively pulled away. I watched it shift over to take a hard look at my ring, as if wondering whether it was a silvery flower worthy of further investigation. Its observation complete, it flew in front of my face and hovered, forcing us to literally see eye to eye. It was so close I could see the bits of web still clinging to the tip of the bill. Time slowed down as I was caught up in its gaze.

Was it telling me to scram? Was it showing a display of courage against this huge giant holding a previous food source? Or perhaps it was giving me thanks or curiously staring deep into my soul.

Admittedly, I was feeling terrified at having this needle-bill mere inches away from my eye. The Anna’s that have hung around lately have been particularly aggressive towards the Black-chinned Hummingbirds, fiercely chasing them away at every opportunity. I wasn’t going to take any chances and I quickly spun around. The hummer flew off a short distance, waited for me to return the feeder to its normal spot, drank some more, and moved on, leaving me with a pounding heart and a huge smile across my face.

Joys of Lawns

December 10, 2022 Elizabeth Olin

I hate lawns.

When I was renting an apartment in the city, I didn’t have to worry about lawn care. The landlord’s gardeners did the required upkeep, and I rarely paid attention to the process, except to feel sad when all the pretty yellow flowers (“weeds”) were hacked off. Apparently, I like the look of longer, wild grass.

Now living in a house, we’ve been thrust into the confusing realm of lawn maintenance. We didn’t want to hire gardeners, figuring we could cut the lawn ourselves. It’s just grass, how hard can that be?

Apparently pretty hard. A combination of record-breaking heat starting earlier than ever in this area, combined with city water restrictions (which I have no qualms about – let’s save water!), the lawn was not happy. We let much of it grow longer for fear of shocking it into submission.

The birds loved the longer grass. I would see birds digging around our lawn and not in the neighbors’ neatly manicured plots. My guess is that less disruption to the grass promoted more life with insects and other food goodies.

Today, a California Scrub-Jay visited the backyard lawn with an enormous nut in its beak. I watched it poke around the grass, trying to find that sweet spot in which to cache it for the winter. I could almost hear its thoughts, “Nope, this spot’s no good. How about here? Ugh, that’s worse! Oh, THIS is the right spot!” Once carefully selected, the jay hammered the nut into the soft ground, like an Acorn Woodpecker shoving an acorn into a tree. Then the jay spent a good two minutes collecting nearby grass to cover its food prize. Little mouthfuls of dried grass slowly covered the spot. It even topped it off with a flower.

I guess a lawn isn’t so bad after all!

New Adventures

November 6, 2022 Elizabeth Olin

Several months ago, I bid farewell to the Bay Area. I said goodbye to my neighborhood chickadees, juncos and nuthatches, and did some final visits to the bay waters and peeps. I was sad to leave these special birds that have melted my heart for so many years.

But I knew that new adventures were ahead. I eagerly reviewed eBird lists to see what new birds I might see regularly in my new town. Swainson’s Hawks! Yellow-billed Magpies! Sandhill Cranes! It seems like the Central Valley is filled with goodies and exciting new opportunities to explore. In fact, on the day we moved, we were greeted by a friendly neighborhood Black-chinned Hummingbird. This is a good sign.

Except we moved in June. And during a year with record-breaking heat waves. My Bay Area 80-degrees-is-too-hot mentality was quickly shattered by countless triple digits days. Who the heck can bird in that heat? I resorted to brief early morning walks around the local neighborhood park. That was the only birding I snuck in for months.

During these walks, I became familiar with the local scene. Black-chinned and Anna’s Hummingbirds fiercely battled each other for the right to sit atop a certain tree (while ignoring all the other available trees). Barn Swallows nested in a certain house and loved to dive around the field after the city mowers kicked up bugs. Northern Mockingbirds loved to sing. Loudly. In the middle of the night. Eurasian Collared-Doves mobbed every street lamp, scooting starlings out of their way. What a scene.

Fast forward to mid-September, which brought cooler temperatures. And by “cooler” I mean mid-90s. Migration should start soon. What would that look like in this little neighborhood park?

I found a Say’s Phoebe, which was previously unreported in this spot. I had to submit details to confirm a correct ID. Without a camera, it was a great opportunity to really take in its features. I took this bird for granted in the Bay Area. Now, it’s a treat that one is calling this little park it’s home for the time being.

The first day of fall was marked with nice weather and a clear sky that wasn’t pierced by the blazing summer sun. The Say’s Phoebe was joined by a second one and they called to each other while bouncing from sand pile to treetops. I heard geese in the sky, probably the Canada Geese I’ve seen a few times. Except, these geese sounded weird. My foggy summer bird brain sluggishly flipped through its media library. What the heck sounds like a rattle?

CRANES!

I whipped up the binoculars just as a “V” of Sandhill Cranes flew overhead. Yes! I can see cranes migrating from my little neighborhood park!

In the days after, I had quick visits from a couple of Yellow Warblers and an Orange-crowned Warbler. A Western Tanager made a brief appearance. White-crowned Sparrows have shyly started to emerge singing their familiar tunes. The notorious Yellow-rumped Warblers are also now here, announcing their presence with a solid “CHIP” note. They all like to hang out along one side of the park. How fascinating to see the birds carve out their niches as they arrive.

I look forward to new birding adventures in my new county.

My Birding World

A Birding Blog by Elizabeth Olin

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