Getting Lucky: A Primer on Finding Rare Birds

We must believe in luck, for how else can we explain the success of those we don’t like – Jean Cocteau

There is one talent essential for finding rare birds. Alas, neither study nor practice makes much difference. Scholarly pursuits are useless as are attempts to better your vision (by exercise or surgery). By in large, you’re either born with it or you’re not. If you have this talent, rarities magically appear where you do. If you are lacking, the world is full of House Sparrows and Rock Pigeons. No studies have been done to determine if it’s heritable, though a look at Paul O’Brien and his sons would cause you to believe that it is. On the other hand, I have occasionally found this characteristic enhanced by wearing the correct hat. Others have found certain tee-shirts to be of help. It’s fickle, a trait bemoaned in song by Frank Sinatra. It’s Luck. 

Though many a successful birder may howl in protest, good luck is an essential ingredient in being a repeat detector of rare birds. Some folks undeniably have the knack of being at the right place at the right time. They zig when others zag. It’s unfortunate for those lacking in fortune, but life is not always fair. For instance, my jump shot sucks and fastballs confuse me. Had it been otherwise, I might now be writing about my days with the Chicago Bulls or Boston Red Sox. But I’m not. I’m writing about birds--rare ones--and how to find them. All of the above being said, there really are some ways of enhancing your chances of finding rarities, even if you find yourself ignored by that most unlady-like lady, Luck.

Know Thy Neighbors: Step one in becoming a skilled and reliable finder of vagrants is to learn the birds around you. A pet peeve of Guy “Look, another first record” McCaskie is that too many people launch themselves at vagrant traps hoping to find misplaced avifauna without knowing the common birds first. So, if you want to be good at this game, and avoid embarrassing yourself, learn the Song Sparrows, Yellow-rumped Warblers, and other avifauna typical of your homefront. Learn not only their classic appearance, but also the variation that occurs within each species. The differences between one Yellow Warbler and the next can be terribly surprising and especially terrible if you think that dull fall female is some vagrant from Asia. It is important to not just look at birds, but to see them as well. Practice, Practice, Practice. Think about what you are seeing. Then, when a peculiar bird presents itself, you’ll be confident it isn’t just some oddball local.

The images above were both taken at Sun Lakes State Park in e. Washington on 5 September 2008. They offer examples of birds that might confuse a birder who hasn’t taken the time to learn their subtle characteristics. Their shared similarities include, size, general coloration, habitat choice, apparent white eyerings, wingbars, longish legs, and streaking on the underparts. However, they are not the same species and, they are not even in the same family. The bird on the left is an American Pipit, while the bird on the right is a Yellow-rumped Warbler (subspecies auduboni). (Photos by David Irons using a Panasonic Lumix DMC-FZ8)

Don’t be Lazy: Once you are comfortable and cozy with those birds that live around you (and this is, in reality, a never ending process), don’t become complacent and assume that every bird is what it appears to be. Lucky birders pull up to the reservoir and have the Ross’s Gull circle around in front of them. However, the best finders of rarities are those that work the hardest. When they flush up a flock of White-crowned Sparrows they don’t say, “Hey, nice flock of White-crowneds” and keep walking. No. They stop and work the flock: by pishing, by waiting, by whatever means. Often, that “good bird” is hiding among a flock of similar birds. Flamingos and pelicans will jump out at you – finding most other rarities requires a bit more effort on the observer’s part. Past companions have groused about my inability to drive by a goose or swan flock without stopping to scope them. Admittedly, there are a lot of goose and swan flocks where I live. Yet, their attitudes change on those occasions when I find the Emperor Goose or Bewick’s Swan amidst the swarm. If you assume the group is full of commoners, it will be. In addition to conjuring rarities, this combination of local knowledge and careful observation will bring about a sudden awareness that there are hybrids in them there duck flocks and unsuspected subspecies in your neighborhood, findings that can contribute to ornithological knowledge.

This image, taken at Mukilteo, Snohomish County, Washington in March 2007, offers a comparison between a male Common Goldeneye X Barrow’s Goldeneye hybrid on the left and a more typical male Barrow’s Goldeneye on the right. Note the more forward placement of the white spot at the base of the bill of the hybrid. This spot also has a slightly compressed oval shape rather than the more circular spot exhibited by pure Common Goldeneyes. It also shows more extensive black on the back and extending down onto the flanks, and the abbreviated “spur” of black extending onto the side of the upper breast. The original Sibley Guide to Birds (2000) presents an illustration of a hybrid that is near identical to this bird. (Photo by Steven Mlodinow using a Panasonic Lumix DMC-FZ50)

It Pays to Get Around/Experience Counts: In many aspects of life, being faithful is an admirable trait, but if you want to enhance your birding luck, get around. After the birds in your area become ho-hum, start traveling a bit, because experience counts. If you visit other parts of your state, or other parts of the country, or heck, other parts of the world, you will not only be thrilled by the novelty of seeing new birds, but you’ll acquire the knowledge to identify one if it happens to wander into your neighborhood. However, in order to get the most from your out-of-town dalliances, you need to apply Rule One and not just look at the new birds but see them as well. A bit of study time in the field is worth a fistful of field guides.

Hang out with the Right Crowd: There are two parts to this rule. First, you’ll almost always benefit by spending time with birders better than you are. There is much to be said for grinding out bird identifications on your own, because that hard-earned knowledge sticks better, but too much time alone is no good (you stop bathing, start talking to yourself, think you’re the King of Sweden – definitely not good). Hook up with someone more experienced now and again and learn some of the tricks (and pitfalls) of the trade from them. Second, the more eyes the better, at least to some extent. I find that three birders in a group usually is ideal for land-birding (larger groups tend to scare those wee birds away). When looking at shorebirds, seabirds, or ducks, which are typically at greater distances and are viewed through scopes, “the more the merrier” is often true. In any case, it’s impossible to see everything yourself and having other birders around only enhances your chances of being there when a rarity is detected. It’s even better if your companion’s skills complement your own. My birding-by-ear skills are barely better than my jumping ability, so I like hanging with folks that are good with sound. 

Go to the Right Place: It is easier to get lucky at some places than others (If you’re older than 25 and haven’t figured this out yet, I’m truly sorry). When looking for rare birds, locations that concentrate migrants are typically best. So, that prairie reservoir or desert oases that attracts lots of regular migrants is likely to be good for vagrants as well, whereas searching for rare woodland birds in a vast expanse of trees is a “needle in the haystack” experience. Coastlines also tend to concentrate birds, especially if there’s a bit of land that sticks out into the sea. Migrants tend to concentrate at the tips of peninsulas for two reasons. Along the New Jersey coast, Cape May’s magic is in part due to being at the end of a funnel. Southbound birds crowd the point, hesitant to cross over a long stretch of water. At Point Reyes, in California, land birds that have strayed out over the Pacific during nocturnal migrations are desperately seeking land, and Point Reyes is often the first thing they see. Of course, peninsulas can also be excellent for “sea-watching,” as migrating waterbirds often pass closer to shore.

Timing is Everything: Well, not really, but that sounds good, doesn’t it? Timing is important, though learning the optimal time windows for certain birds takes some experience. Rare shorebirds, ducks, warblers, etc. can show up at any time, yet there is usually a prime time in each particular region to search for a given group of vagrants. Looking for rare gulls in Texas during summer may occasionally pay off, but you’re going to spend more time gazing at sunbathers than Larids (which, at times, might not be all that bad). However, if you go to Niagara Falls during early winter, and you may be a bit chilly (or frozen solid), but you’ll see an interesting gull or two.

In this image, taken near Wallula, Washington on 5 September 2005, the author takes advantage of one of his “tools of the trade.” Though surely not listed among the features on the brochure at the Toyota dealership, the state of the art reinforced roof design of Steve’s Highlander gives him a decided advantage when trying to see over those annoying embankments that impound the local gray (and brown) water. (Photo by Bob Flores using a Contax UR4 camera)

Tools of the Trade: Finally, have the right tools. A fabulous pair of binoculars does not a fabulous birder make. On the other hand, being able to actually see the bird has its advantages. Optics that provide a clear image are critical to both your enjoyment and rarity finding success. Another important tool of the trade is a good library. On those long dark rainy nights when the score of the basketball game is lopsided, pull a book or a journal off the shelf and teach yourself something. Next time you’re out in the field, try to put that study into play, and it’ll be less likely to leak back out of your brain. 

So, if you’ve ever wondered why Paul or Gary or Jon seem so good at finding rarities, you’ll know why. They’re damn lucky. 

And much more. They work hard at it.