Mike in the Wild

A voyage on a big cruise ship offers lots of activities like dining, dancing, drinking and birding.  "Birding?  Really?" you might ask.  Well, yes.  Even on their longest voyages, most recreational cruises sail within several miles of shore, so they're never far from common shorebirds like gulls and pelicans.     On a cruise last week from Los Angeles to Cabo San Lucas, the Emerald Princess spent almost two days en route, frequently sailing out of sight of any land.   While the ship of course offered numerous games and bountiful food for its passengers, the days at sea afforded the rare opportunity to encounter seabirds like boobies and other marine animals that live and hunt mostly over and in the open ocean.    As the ship neared the Tropic of Cancer and the air became balmier, comfortable views from the Promenade Deck close to the water guaranteed numerous sightings of flying fish as they propelled themselves into the air while fleeing predators.  A close look at t

I've been quite lucky to have spent the last several summers in Prescott where I've met many high elevation birds like scrub jays and titmice.  With the arrival of freezing temperatures and the departure of summer-breeding birds, I start to lose interest in regular visits north.  But during my infrequent winter stays I still pay attention to the tweets and pecks coming from the wooded landscape and am occasionally rewarded with a fun find like on this past weekend when I discovered a red-naped sapsucker. Four woodpeckers go by the name sapsucker, all in the genus Sphyrapicus.  I think only two are common in Arizona, the William's and the already mentioned red-naped.  While I've never encountered either in the state's deserts I have observed the red-naped in my Prescott neighborhood during autumn on at least two occasions.   I speculate that this weekend's individual might be a winter visitor to the area, breeding in a higher elevation than my neighborhood

Owls are not the easiest bird to photograph, mostly because they're nocturnal, pursuing prey at night and sleeping during the day.  The burrowing owl takes exception to this behavior by hunting when there is daylight, in addition to exhibiting another non owl-like trait  by living underground.   In my own birding pursuits I've had to settle on seeing owls mostly roosting quietly and safely hidden in a tree's canopy.  I've often thought that it might be more rewarding to record an owl's hoots rather than take a picture of him since the great horned owl's deep and resonating nighttime calls are as much a part of Arizona's nightly sounds as crickets, coyotes, barking dogs and automobile traffic.  During a very good span of birding last week I was especially excited to see a western screech owl at the Desert Botanical Garden in Phoenix one morning.   It might be my third encounter in the wild with this diminutive bird who is apparently more often heard than

Phoenix is blessed with beautiful autumn weather that guarantees every resident a welcome return to their patio after a summer's cloister indoors from the relentless heat.  Besides barbecuing and sunbathing, birding is a favorite seasonal backyard attraction, with our local hummingbirds getting star billing in that activity.  They're regular customers of the sugar water feeders we keep provisioned, in addition to the lantana, petunias and countless other flowers we grow in our yards.   While the state of Arizona attracts a large variety of migratory and seasonal hummingbirds, the sprawling city of Phoenix is home to predominately one, the Anna's.  It's most likely that the bird flashing his magenta gorget and head as he darts, buzzes and chirps about your backyard is a male member of this species.  But the local Sonoran Desert is also the full-time home to another hummingbird variety, the Costa's.  Less than two thirds the size of the Anna's, the diminutive

One of birding's many rewards is that quite frequently a bird sighting for the twentieth time feels like the first.  I was just reminded of this treat very recently on an excursion to southern Arizona, where I actually did have a few first time encounters.  However one of my most memorable moments was  photographing a common species, a male ladder-backed woodpecker, in Sierra Vista. I've seen the bird quite a few times, throughout the deserts and neighborhoods around Phoenix, and in the mountains and woods around Prescott.  Like many other North American woodpeckers, it's mostly black and white, with the males showing some red on his crown.  And as the name infers, horizontal stripes on its back create a ladder pattern.  Until now, I viewed its shrill cackle of a call as its most distinguishing characteristic.   I've taken quite a few shots of the bird over the past year, with several of them actually turning out quite nicely.  But in Sierra Vista last week a striki