Chasing Birds in Coastal California
After the fall migration in late summer and early autumn, birding moves from the trees to the water. Ecologically, Orange County is a giant wetland where freshwater in ponds and rivers meets saltwater from the ocean. Crabs and fish are abundant, and there is no risk of frost at night. In the winter, the waterfowl come to town to spend the coldest months of the year in a warm place. It’s known colloquially to birders as “weird duck season.”
Ducks, grebes, teals, and coots float, dabble, and dip beneath the surface. The long-legged egrets and sanderlings comb the shore, paying extra close attention to the shallows where water turns to mud. The aptly named greater and lesser yellowlegs dip their long, chopstick-like beaks into the clay as a dozen tiny plovers run and rummage around them.
A Bird Challenge
Observing birds on open water is a much more beginner-friendly practice than chasing down warblers at the tops of trees. What weird duck season lacks in terms of a challenge, it makes up for in the sheer number of species.
My boyfriend Peter and I set out on a cool Saturday morning to welcome weird duck season with a lofty goal: can we see 50 species of birds on a 2-mile walk?
I respond well to challenges. Birding activates competitiveness, although I’m only competing with myself. The thrill of the hunt brings me joy, and it brings out Peter’s competitive side, too. Rather than being motivated by being the best, his motivation is “gotta catch ’em all,” built over years of playing Pokémon.
I will never forget the first time we tracked down a ruby-crowned kinglet, an olive-yellow bird the size of a golf ball that flits around branches, only staying in the same place for a few moments. He teased us with his loud song, and we chased him around the oak tree until we caught him with our binoculars. The payoff of seeing a bird up close is all the sweeter when you have to work for it.
Weird duck season allows us to shift our focus to birds that move more slowly. It allows us to rest our necks, sore from hours of looking up in treetops (known lovingly as “warbler neck.”) It is an opportunity to pause and spend more time examining the patterns in the blue-winged teal’s breast and watching the emerald green of a male mallard’s head shimmer in the sun.
A Light Challenge
Leaving the shade of the trees to wander next to ponds presents a challenge unique to birders with photophobia like me. Photophobia means “a fear of light” from photo (light) and phobia (fear). “Fear” is not a strong enough word; light physically hurts. Light makes my temples throb and my eyes ache. It is, by far, one of the most disabling migraine symptoms. You can imagine how frustrating and impactful it is to live in the dark and to live a life where sunshine hurts.
Gratefully, I’ve found a class of medication called gepants that tamps down the worst of my light sensitivity. It doesn’t touch the pain, but it allows me to spend time outside every day, even if it’s just 20 minutes. This is huge for my mental health. The warmth of the sun hits differently when you’ve spent countless hours stuck in the dark.
A Bird List
To celebrate my achievement and kick off weird duck season, here are the 50 species we spotted. I wish I could include photos of them all. I’m biased, but I think Peter is a great photographer.
Blue-winged Teal
Cinnamon Teal
Northern Shoveler
Gadwall
Mallard
Green-winged Teal
Redhead
Ruddy Duck
Pied-billed Grebe
Western Grebe
Clark’s Grebe
Mourning Dove
Anna’s Hummingbird
Allen’s Hummingbird
American Coot
American Avocet
Semi-palmated Plover
Lesser Yellowlegs
Greater Yellowlegs
Willit
Least Sandpiper
Western Gull
California Gull
Double-crested Cormorant
American White Pelican
Brown Pelican
Snowy Egret
Great Egret
Great Blue Heron
White-faced Ibis
Turkey Vulture
Osprey
Red-tailed Hawk
Nuttall’s Woodpecker
American Kestrel
Black Phoebe
American Crow
Bushtit
Swinhoe’s White-eye
Blue-gray Gnatcatcher
House Wren
Marsh Wren
House Finch
Lesser Goldfinch
White-crowned Sparrow
Song Sparrow
California Towhee
Spotted Towhee
Common Yellowthroat
Yellow-rumped Warbler
I look forward to spending more time outside in the sunshine, even as the days grow shorter. Like the weird ducks, I’m ready to slow down and seek safety in familiar places. I’m ready to rest, eat, and nourish myself, building strength to withstand whatever the coming seasons bring.
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Postscript
I wrestled with whether or not to publish this. How can I write about birds when the earth is on fire and my tax dollars are funding violence against innocent people at a scale we’ve never seen? Every day I see a new photo online of a deceased person, a deceased child, or multiple deceased children out of Gaza. It is incredibly hard to bear witness to the atrocities, but it is necessary.
Joy is also necessary for survival, especially in times of great pain. Birds and writing and writing about birds bring me joy, and I am holding on to it for dear life. If there’s one thing I learned in my decade with chronic pain, it’s that you cannot let go of the things that nourish you, even when you are consumed by tragedy. My heart aches, but still, I write.
All photos taken by Peter @dptdbirder