Bird-a-thon, 2039 AD

https://coffinbell.com/bird-a-thon-2039-ad/

  This story started as my indignant reaction to modern birding tech. With all these bird picture/song ID apps (now even integrated into new Swaro optics…) and info-sharing apps, this is where birding is going. Technology is turning us into useless blank-eyed fleshbags who wander between waypoints, jabbing at buttons. I ended the story off with a boilerplate sci-fi twist. Maybe one day I’ll be able to read something I've written without cringing.

  It’s clear I need to think of new names for characters – when I find a name I like, I use it repeatedly without noticing – I think this is the third time I've used the name 'Mairin.'

  Hope everyone is managing to keep a modicum of sanity on this endless Sunday morning.

(PS Spot the typo!)


(To read my other published birding tales, click on this handy clickety-click and scroll down:
http://snowyowllost.blogspot.ca/search/label/Writing%20stuff-published%20stories)

The Busan Drunk Bird Flu

  
  Observe if you will…a tale about a sinister flu that starts in East Asia, and spreads from animals to humans. I wrote it in…OCTOBER! Neer-neer-neer-neer, neer-neer-neer-neer…(Twilight Zone riff)

https://coffinbell.com/the-busan-drunk-bird-flu/

(To read my other published birding tales, click on this handy clickety-click and scroll down:
http://snowyowllost.blogspot.ca/search/label/Writing%20stuff-published%20stories)

Last NDG birds of March

Cooper’s Hawk Accipiter cooperii

American Robin Turdus migratorius

Woodchuck/Groundhog Marmota monax

  Birds! Here are some I saw today at a quiet spot in NDG. Ten species were spotted in a lazy 45 minutes in lovely sunny weather, my first foray out of doors in quite some time. No woodpeckers, juncos, or nuthatches around, perhaps due to patrols by two noisy Merlins and a determined looking Cooper’s Hawk. No Snowbirds or spectral groundskeepers, either.

  If birds migrate in the spring and there are no birders there to see them…the birds don't care.

Omens

Eastern Screech-Owl Megascops asio
(I didn’t even know the ISO on my camera went as high as 16,000...) 

  Many cultures view owls as bad omens. I don’t. I gravitate to the views of the few traditions that see owls as harbingers of transition – forces that can guide you during difficult times in your life. It’s fair to say that most people on the planet are living through some difficult times in their lives at this point in this anno multum horribilus, 2020.

  Tonight I needed some air, so I went out onto the front porch and sat in a director’s chair with a morale beverage. Fat flakes of snow cloaked the deserted streets, and it was cold enough to chill my legs through jeans. Fifteen minutes into my zone-out, a stubby bird zipped overhead and landed in a tree ten feet above where I was sitting. Owl! I crept inside, and the bird was mercifully still there when I returned with my birding optics. I got the binos up, and witnessed an Eastern Screech-Owl finishing off a small rodent.

  As I watched the bird eat, the flaming wad of barbed wire that has smouldered deep in my stomach for weeks went out with a cool hiss. By the time the owl flew off to a metallic perch, the stressball had been replaced by those old familiar birding butterflies of joy. That feeling when your mind goes blank, and the screeching behind your eyes quiets, as you observe another creature doing its damndest to persevere. A timely reminder that there are forces out there that may seem smaller than us, but are in fact, much bigger.

  I’m rambling. But this was a good omen. Spring will come, and then summer will. (Is that from a movie?)

Birding in the plague years

Rockin’ my sweet 3M N95 – those good old days (2019) in
Gangneung when horrific air pollution was the only reason for masks

  
  Geez, a year ago today I was prepping for over a month of footloose and fancy-free spring birding in the Yellow Sea. Those were the good ol’ days.

  I have seen a whole whack of articles lately gushing about how this is the perfect time to go out and look at birds. I’ll do that a little, but I’ll also do some ranting, scolding, and hand-wringing.

  I’ve been watching this drunk skinhead of a pathogen slam-dance its way through Korea for a few months, through the eyes of friends, trying to prepare, and let people know this was coming. They may have turned the corner over there, and we can too, but not if we don’t take this shit seriously. The ‘West’ is not fully prepared for this. Not prepared between the ears. We are soft, wilfully ignorant, and stubborn – everyone thinks they know better than the experts. We don’t know better, stay home and wash your fucking hands, and be nice to one another. We are literally in the same boat, and it’s listing. We failed to change course, and now we’re scrambling around rearranging the deck chairs.

  Things are going to get pretty weird out there for a bit, dystopian even, but I reckon we’ll mostly get through it, albeit bent and battered. Perhaps some folks will have the scales fall from their eyes on the other end of this. Just maybe it’s time for a major rethink about a lot of the ‘big stuff’ we don’t normally have the time nor willpower to take on – those giant gears that churn behind the curtain…the beast that devours habitat and people’s lives, and shits out corporate profits. It should make you furious. We have some free time now, so think about it.

  Good thing I’m a misanthropic, anti-social curmudgeon. This social distancing thing feels pretty easy for me, for the most part. If you’re cooped up, can’t bird, and are going nuts out there and need to talk to someone about birds, shoot me an email (spaces added in a vain effort to address to combat spam): mattpoll24 at gmail dot com.

  Or, better yet, leave a comment on this post – there aren't a lot of comments on here, and I certainly don’t get to talk about birds enough on an everyday basis. Where are you in the world? What bird just flew past your window? 2020 target/nemesis bird? Worst dip? Drop a link to your bird-nerd blog. Comment!

  Spring is almost here, I can smell birds on the wind, they’re on the horizon and down a few dimly lit trails. Migratory birds will continue to fly from the southern hemisphere to the far north as they always have, because they must push their blood into the future.

  It is indeed probably time to get out and go birding. Do it! Life is (very) short. Breathe deeply in through the nose, and out through the mouth…but not right next to anyone. Keep calm and carry birds. Nope. Keep calm and bird on.

Early birds of the decade

Eastern Screech-Owl Megascops asio
(January 23)

Northern Saw-whet Owl Aegolius acadicus
(January 29)

Pileated Woodpecker Dryocopus pileatus
(January 29)

White-winged Crossbill Loxia leucoptera
(February 10)

White-winged Crossbill singing

(sorry for the video quality)

(February 10)

Downy Woodpecker Picoides pubescens
(March 5)

male Northern Cardinal Cardinalis cardinalis
(March 5)

female Northern Cardinal Cardinalis cardinalis
(March 5)

American Robin Turdus migratorius
(March 5)

White-throated Sparrow Zonotrichia albicollis
(March 5)

Pine Warbler Setophaga pinus
(March 5)

Saint-Côme
(February 10)

Saint-Côme
(February 10)

Swaggins Trail
(February 10)

  Or is it ‘birds of the early decade?’ Haven’t been getting out into the scrub much lately, with only some light birding every now and again to start the year. The majority of the trips have been failed twitches. Dips even. It’s gonna be one of those years. Mostly I have been writing, rotting, editing, mainlining Korean instant coffee, and washing my hands.

Some random high(low)lights:

January 23, Parc des Rapides/Parc Angrignon in Lasalle: Dipped on a Barrow’s Goldeneye. No scope = no distant duck. No passerines. Screech was snoozing in Angrignon, looked like a cat.

January 29, Yamachiche: Dipped on the Boreal Owl. Interesting area though.

February 10, up near Tremblant in Saint-Côme/Swaggins Trail: Dipped on an American Three-toed Woodpecker – but may have heard it (even worse). It was cold as hell. The White-winged Crossbills were a’singing in the sun.

March 5, Parc Jean-Drapeau on Ile Notre-Dame: Felt quite birdy for the time of year, with 20 species logged in two hours. Spotted the celeb Pine Warbler, and also White-throated Sparrows, Red-winged Blackbirds, and a decent supporting cast.

The Trailcam

  Here's a little story I wrote:

 https://montrealwrites.com/2020/01/31/the-trailcam-by-matt-poll/

(To read my other published birding tales, click on this handy clickety-click and scroll down:
http://snowyowllost.blogspot.ca/search/label/Writing%20stuff-published%20stories)

Sparrows of the Southwest

Harris’s Sparrow Zonotrichia querula

Harris’s Sparrow Zonotrichia querula

Harris’s Sparrow Zonotrichia querula

Harris’s Sparrow Zonotrichia querula
(with an American Tree Sparrow looking tiny by comparison in the foreground)

Vesper Sparrow Pooecetes gramineus

Vesper Sparrow Pooecetes gramineus

That photographer actually got much closer to the Vesper Sparrow...
(...how was he able to focus his 600mm lens?!)

The scene at the stream when the Harris's Sparrow showed up
(visible at the top of the ditch, under the sumac)

Lovely farm country, where icy winds stalk the land

  Headed down to the St-Anicet area a couple of days ago for a double sparrow-twitch (Harris’s and Vesper). Bleak and lovely farm country out there. I get a weird vibe on these twitches, mostly due to the fantastic spectrum of questionable behaviour by photographers inevitably on display, and it was no different this time. A traffic jam of lenses, but almost no binoculars. Folks were clotted up in chattery gaggles at the heaps of cracked corn that had been left at the side of the road. Some photogs were scream-shouting to one another, to the point where I could hear every word of their conversation from 100 feet down the road, while others walked right up to the celebrity birds when they showed up. How can you even focus on a bird from five feet away when you have a 600mm lens, m’man? Don't step on it! Boggles the mind. The confused local farmers whipping past in pickup trucks on the narrow road jammed with parked cars completed the wacky scene.
  Ah well, I couldn’t resist, as who knows when the next Harris’s Sparrow will show up. It’s apparently the largest sparrow in North America, and most are in Northern Texas this time of year, while the Vesper ought to be in Florida. I guess it could be this screwy warm winter we’re having, confusing these birds. Both reminded me of Old World Buntings, and were relatively quite confiding. Lovely, striking birds, both.
  There’s a mighty blizzard churning through the province right now, I wonder if these roadside rock-stars will still be around when the powder settles.

  On a tangent, I was struck by how the latest Sibley's book doesn't include an illustration of a first-winter Harris's Sparrow, but instead replaces it with one of a juvenile (for those people birding in high Nunavut in the summer). Why would they exclude the first-winter? I love, and will defend to the death the honour of the Sibley's guide (The sacred texts!), but I do have a few issues with moves like that, and some of the other sparrow illustrations. I guess I'm a nerd.

The Komun Dodo

  Here's my latest published short: 
https://www.dimeshowreview.com/the-komun-dodo-by-matt-poll/

  It's one of the first 'flash fiction' tales I attempted, written a couple of years ago. There was a whole birding aspect to the story that I trimmed out to ensure that it stayed under 1,000 words. Not sure how it would come out if I wrote it today.
  Geomun Island, formerly known as Komun Island, was also briefly known as Port Hamilton, when the British Navy set up a cheeky base there from 1885-1887 ("preventive occupation"), which seemed like a wacky place and time to set a story. Geomun is a charming isle, and I tried to get a job there a few years back, but was unsuccessful.

(To read my other published birding tales, click on this handy clickety-click and scroll down:
http://snowyowllost.blogspot.ca/search/label/Writing%20stuff-published%20stories)

Season's Tweetings...

...from the creepy Victorian Christmas bike-owls.

The '19 Christmas Bird Count

American Goldfinch Spinus tristis

American Crow Corvus brachyrhynchos

  I was issued the Notre-Dame-des-Neiges Cemetery for the Christmas Bird Count yesterday. The neighbouring Mount-Royal Cemetery gets all the birding glamour, but I think NDN has its decent spots too, and I do like a scruffy underdog. Wasn’t too birdy overall (nine species), but the mood of it all made up for any avian shortcomings.
  A thick, creepy-ass fog settled heavy over the cemetery all morning. Haven’t seen a fog that persistent in Montreal – it was more of a Seogwipo harbour morning fog, minus the ocean musk. There were a few moments where I was walking through wide, silent fields, surrounded completely by wet greyness. Felt like walking through limbo, or into 2020 or whatever.
  Gangs of noisy American Crows had me loping through the mist a few times, visions of owls dancing in my head, but I think they were just being bored jerks, having cawing contests. Cawntests.
  Also, I love a good mystery/conspiracy, so I’m convinced I’ve been seeing fresh Black-backed Woodpecker bark damage near where George found them a few months ago – I suspect they’re still somewhere on the mountain, happy and anonymous in some quiet corner. Or I'd like to imagine they are.

  The BPQ count-up hang-out in Mo-West after was a good time, well done, BPQ.

  Speaking of Christmas Bird Counts, my wacky book is now available in paperback format, see the post below.

Buy my book! The Christmas Bird Diary

February 2024 note: Currently unavailable, but it will be back, better than ever, before long...

  Howdy, fellow bird-loving internet lurkers. A short book I wrote was just published, hooray! The Christmas Bird Diary is a cozy “Christmas birding” mystery set in Montreal in 1960. It’s a quick read (10,000 words/50ish pages), and cheap (less than $3 for ebook, less than $8 for paperback), so buy yours today! If you enjoy it (or if you don’t), please review it on Amazon, as it helps boost the 'algorithm' thingies. Cheers, et merci!

☞ Canadians can get it in Kindle or paperback format here:
https://www.amazon.ca/Christmas-Bird-Diary-Matt-Poll/dp/1674923287/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=%22The+christmas+bird+diary%22&qid=1576880454&sr=8-1

☞ Americans (and others) can also get it in Kindle or paperback format here:
https://www.amazon.com/Christmas-Bird-Diary-Matt-Poll/dp/1674923287/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1576871403&sr=8-1

☞ Eight other ebook stores and formats are here:

https://books2read.com/u/3Lp1A0

Here’s the blurb:

  It’s Christmas, 1960, and Montreal is snowed under. Twenty-year-old Mairin Lang plans on furthering her new hobby of birdwatching while home for a break from university. This plan for a relaxing holiday with her mother takes a sharp turn when she discovers her late grandfather Murray’s Christmas birding diary, written 50 years earlier. Within its pages are the seeds to three mysteries, all connected to a bird sighting Murray made in 1906 — an all-white ‘Snowbird’ that appears to be a species unknown to modern science. In Mairin’s quest to puzzle through these enigmas, she will be challenged with secrets from her family’s past, skeptical academics, and the deadly elements of an abnormally cold December.

(To read my other published birding tales, click on this handy clickety-click and scroll down:
http://snowyowllost.blogspot.ca/search/label/Writing%20stuff-published%20stories)

Technolark

Lark Sparrow Chondestes grammacus

Northern Saw-whet Owl Aegolius acadicus

  Went west with Dan and finally caught up with the errant Lark Sparrow that’s been hanging out at the Technoparc. Yay! It struck me as quite an Emberiza-like bird, white outer-tail and all. This species is not often seen east of the Mississippi, and it should probably be in Texas right about now...let's hope it gets turned back around. Thanks goes to Marc Boisvert, who we teamed up with to cover more ground. Thanks also goes to the platoon of Black-capped Chickadees, who alerted us to a Northern Saw-whet Owl with their outraged tsipping.

Crossbilled Traffic

Red Crossbill Loxia curvirostra

Getting after the slushy salt/grit pile

Pine Siskin Carduelis pinus

Northern Shrike Lanius excubitor

Rivière Noire

They were that close...

  George had a wacky scheme to wake up pre-dawn and drive two hours north to try to find some hard-to-find Red Crossbills that some fellow has been seeing in his yard. I’m in! After the drive up to the boreal splendour of Saint-Donat-de-Montcalm (near Tremblant), we met the fellow in question, the affable bird-man of the north, Pierre Martin. We first got onto a large flock of Pine Siskins, and after ten minutes or so, three Red Crossbills were spotted moving in a wide circuit around us. High-five! Little did we know, within an hour we would have an absurdly confiding flock of 16 Red Crossbills on the snow in front of us, as close as ten feet away. It was a breathtaking, surreal encounter.
  The birds were focused on getting after the salt/dirt clumps on the road, and would flush en masse every few minutes in response to alarm calls from jittery sentries. The colour range on the birds was remarkable, with all the shades of a traffic light, and every gradient in between.
  We stopped by Boisé Ste-Dorothée in Laval on the way back. The tactical owl SWAT team was out in force, beating the bushes for a Saw-whet Owl that was apparently seen there a few days ago. I overheard one lens bro’s aside to another: “There were 30 people here today looking for the owl, but no one saw it.” Can’t help but think that the two halves of that sentence may have a cause-effect relationship. Pretty quiet overall there, although a Northern Shrike was a welcome sight (with another probable from the road near Prévost). I’ll swear on a Sibley’s that I heard some crossbills there too. Gip-gip gip-gip!

George’s list from Saint-Donat (includes a sound recording for the crossbill-typing nerds out there):
https://ebird.org/checklist/S61627172

George’s list from Boisé Ste-Dorothée:
https://ebird.org/checklist/S61631515