Backyard Bird Count #1 - Baby Barn Swallows

One of the multitude of requirements for certification in the AMB program is this one:  Keep a backyard bird list at least twice a month for a year.

For me, this requirement might be either really easy, or more of a stretch.

The really easy option:  my backyard is roughly the size of a patio, say about 20’ by 8’.  Wait!  My backyard *is* a patio!  Well, I can pretty much give you the list for the coming year:  House Sparrows, with the possibility of a Rock Pigeon or two.  Downtown condo dwelling at its best or worst, depending on your perspective.  There’s one requirement that’s finished the moment it’s started!

The “more of a stretch” option:  choose another area to monitor.

Oh boy.  This is one of those things where perhaps too much choice is not such a good thing.

Black-crowned Night-Heron
Two Ponds NWR, CO
6/19/13

My instinct is to bird where I run:  along the Cherry Creek Bike Path.  After all, over the course of the 13+ years that I’ve lived here, running that same route many times each week, I’ve seen a pretty cool variety of birds.  There are, of course, the ubiquitous birds of urban front-range Colorado:  in addition to the House Sparrows and Rock Pigeons, there are American Robins and Mallards and European Starlings and House Finches and – only occasionally – Canada Geese.  But there are also lots of other interesting birds.  My favorites are the Black-crowned Night-Herons who fish these waters all summer long;  this was one of those birds that caught my attention before I knew what it was.  I had to go home and pull out a book or two to figure it out.  These days, I think of this bird as my totem:  I watch for it, and if I see one, I feel somehow buoyed.

Snowy Egret
Denver City Park
4/14/13

But I also see birds you might not expect.  From time to time, a Snowy Egret.  Frequently, Black-capped Chickadees (mostly heard, not seen).  Just once or twice, including on my birthday nearly two years ago, a flock of Cedar Waxwings.  In winter:  an assortment of different ducks.  In summer:  an assortment of swallows who nest in the overpasses.

So my instinct is to use the bike path as my “backyard”, but when I run this by my mentor, Tina, she has a different idea.

What about Denver City Park, she asks.  There’s more habitat there.  Is that close to you?

Before even thinking much, I jump on it.  Of course!  I go birding in City Park all the time!  There are tons of birds there!

And so it is decided, and on Sunday morning in early August, I make my first backyard bird foray into City Park.

And wow, is it dead.  If it weren’t for the Canada Geese, I might fall asleep as I walk through this area where I’m so used to seeing so many birds.  Apparently, the vast majority of summer residents have already taken off for warmer climes.  And the ones who summer up north?  They haven’t arrived on their southerly migration trip yet.

But today there are Canada Geese.  And a few Mallards, and around 50 or so Double-crested Cormorants who haven’t yet left their nesting grounds on Duck Pond.  There are – by my count – 7 Snowy Egrets, and a bunch of Black-billed Magpies and a smattering of other birds.  Still, my species list totals just 11.  And that’s for nearly two hours of walking.

Canada Goose
Denver City Park
11/5/12

Oh, and yes, those Canada Geese:  they keep me counting.  And counting.  And counting.  Before the AMB program, I would just enter an “X” in ebird (we’ll get to ebird one of these days, if you don’t already know about it;  for now suffice to say it’s an electronic tracking system where you can record the species you see while out birding), and not bother with actually counting the birds.  But for AMB, the requirement is to enter actual numbers.  So I count geese, and I count some more, and then yet more.

Holy crap.  Or, really, Holy Goose Poop.

There are no birds here, and still I count 408 Canada Geese.  How the heck am I going to be able to keep track of the geese when there a LOT of them here in the winter?

That bike path with a handful of birds is looking pretty good as I complete my huge circumnavigation of the park, ready to drop my camera and its big heavy lens in my car.  I’ve barely taken a photo:  there’s just not been much to catch my attention, or to require further study to figure out what the bird is.   In fact, the only thing I’ve seen that I can’t ID?  That would be all those swallows circling overhead.  Swallows are my work in progress (well, ONE of my works in progress) and I really don’t have a clue what has been circling around today.

So I’m thrilled when a group of these small birds come to light on a fence near where I’m parked.  I walk over to get a better look, snapping photo after photo, trying to figure it out.  There are 7 (remember, I’m counting) sitting in a row, just sitting there.  I still can’t tell what kind of swallow.  These birds don’t have the coloring or the forked tail of a Barn Swallow, which would – otherwise – be my first guess.  So what the heck are they?

Then all of a sudden, they all start fluttering and calling, but not flying off.  Other swallows dive down, are there for a split second, and then are off again.

  Oh.  Wow.  I’m watching mom and dad Barn Swallows feed their fledglings.  Oh.  Wow.

My mentor Tina will later give me this tip:
that extended gape (more birdspeak:  formally "gape flange", that fleshy-looking area where the two parts of the bill come together, in this bird it's very yellow and extends pretty much all the way to the bird's eye) is an indication that the bird is a juvenile.  Who knew? 

I watch the process over and over again.  It’s just about too cool for words.  I have places to be, so I can’t stay all day, even though I’d sure like to.  I watch one more feeding pass, and then I head home.

And I think that Denver City Park is just about the best backyard anyone could hope for.