The Fabulous Hummingbird Bar At Rio Santiago

One of the coolest places I visited in 2016 also gave me one of the most unexpected experiences I've ever had in my life. While in Honduras we visited the bar at the Rio Santiago Nature Resort which is known for maintaining over 200 hummingbird feeders daily, including keeping them clean and full of fresh nectar throughout the day. The video above gives you a hint of what the hummingbird activity is like, but that really only scratches the surface. The sheer amount of hummingbird mass in the air and zipping around your head coupled with the wide variety of species is mind-blowing, especially for someone like me who lives in Minnesota with only one species regularly occurring.

But hummingbirds are not the only reason to visit and as much as we all wanted to plop down, have a beer and soak in some hot hummer action, our guide Elmer Escoto took us on a walk for something "very special if we are lucky." We meandered the trails on the resort property and found a few North American breeders that were just beginning their northward movement like wood thrush and gray catbird. But we also saw masked tityra, shining honeycreeper, brown jays and yellow-throated euphonias.

The fabulous golden-hooded tanager seen as soon as we were in the parking lot at Rio Santiago. 

Always fun to see birds like this wood thrush that spend the summer with us in the United States wintering in Central America.

This was the bird Elmer was hoping to show us--a young spectacled owl. This bird was already out on it's own but still had some downy feathers around its face. 

Elmer found us a young spectacled owl. They are just a little smaller than a great horned owl and eat a wide variety of small prey. This is a young bird that still had some white around the head but was already formidable in its adult size. And something as cool as an owl is definitely worth tearing some birders away from over 200 hummingbird feeders. We headed back down the trail and back to the bar...the better to work up a sweat for an ice cold beer. 

A lovely violet-crowned woodnymph coming in to the hummingbird feeders. 

So we settled down with our cameras and beers at the hummingbird feeders to take advantage of the dwindling daylight to get photos--though I was having more fun getting slow motion video of the hummers with my iPhone and my scope. Moments like this are one of my favorite parts of travel. We had already had a few days of glorious hiking and fabulous birds. The afternoon was a nicer relaxed moment to just sit and enjoy the colorful avian bounty around us. The air was hot, heavy with humidity (as welcome change from the still frigid Minnesota) and the beer was cool, You have the blissful moment of thinking how far from home you are, how different life is here and you still have a couple more days of adventure to go. I love moments where I can stop, be still and drink it all in, it's pure contentment.

And then a baby ocelot walked into the bar. 

You read that correctly, a baby ocelot walked into the hummingbird bar. 

My mind went into overdrive. With mammals, especial predatory nocturnal ones, I never expect to ever see one outside of a zoo, I'm content to know that they are out there in the world. I never have to see them. That's something biologists and wildlife guides soaked in sweat, bug bites and intestinal parasites see--that's their reward.  When I'm down at Laguna Atascosa National Wildlife Refuge in south Texas and see the ocelot crossing signs, I do keep watch but realize that I'm not going to see one. To have an ocelot show up and have it be an adorable young one to boot was over the top unexpected. It explored the bar, it killed and ate a mouse, it ran within feet of me. 

The ocelot hopped on a table and we completely surrounded it. I asked the question that we all wanted to know but were afraid to ask.

"Can we touch it?"

"Sí."

Nothing in life could have prepared me for the honor of being chewed on by an ocelot.

What is it about us that we have to feel something with our hands to get a full and true experience? Seeing and hearing is wonderful, and I'll be honest smell is pretty up there with me (and yes, I sniffed the ocelot more than once). But touch...no observation is ever as deeply satisfying as the ability to touch the subject. I think with ocelots in particular since they are as masterful at camouflage as an owl, primarily nocturnal and will do whatever they can to avoid being seen by us, living their life on the their eating small mammals and birds. The colors and patterns of their fur hiding them from me in plain sight. 

The young ocelot eventually made it over to the bar. 

Since my Spanish is dodgier than my French, I asked Elmer what the back story was behind the young ocelot. He said that it had been found on a trail on the property as a small kitten, about the size of a human hand. It was brought and the decision was made to feed about house it until it was large enough to be on its own. The resort did this before with another ocelot several years ago. They raised a young female kitten and when she was old enough she roamed the yard and eventually disappeared when she was an adult. She returned a year later, denned up and and raised kittens. 

The plan with this ocelot was to let it roam the property, learn to hunt--which it clearly was and keep inside at night until it was big enough to defend itself from larger predators. 

What else do you do when a baby ocelot hops on a bar? You take a selfie and post it on all of your social media accounts! 

Look at those adorable white spots behind the ears! The fur was strange, simultaneously soft, but not the soft velvety feel I get from rabbits. Almost like really fluffy felt. What an opportunity to feel that fur on top of a warm, active body. 

Right after this was taken, the young ocelot noticed its own face in the front screen of my phone. It pressed its ears back, gave a tiny growl and wanted nothing to do with me after that. Smart cat.

As the group settled in to one more beer and talk of ocelots, I did what any modern woman does these days when something cool shows up--I took a selfie and immediately began posting it to social media. 

Most of my friends' reaction to the ocelot selfie.

But not all of them...

Some of my friends are well aware of the wild cat trade and they begged me to remove the photos because they felt they glorified wild animal ownership. When I pointed out that this was a not a pet but meant to be released to the wild when it was old enough, some of those friends were dubious of the young ocelot's origin. Was this truly found as an abandon kitten or was the mother killed so this kitten could be a tourist attraction?

All I know is that I know Elmer and I trust him so I trust the story of the ocelot's origin at the resort. The bar has over 200 hummingbird feeders and a steady birding clientele, why add a baby ocelot when the experience is already outstanding? The young ocelot appeared healthy, able to hunt mice on its own and had minimal interest in us apart from fingers it might chew on. In fact, compared to most of the animals I'd seen in Honduras, this was an exception because you could not see it's ribs. Several cows, horses, dogs and even pigs were emaciated by United States standards. 

At the end of the day, Honduras is not the United States. It does not have the wildlife rehabilitation network and advancements we do here. People do the best they can with what they have and for many it is barely enough to take care of themselves and their children. I walked around that beautiful and wild country with a spotting scope that cost more than what many Hondurans make in a year.

To me travel is as much about learning as it is about experience. Sometimes you just have let an experience wash over you and learn from it. And when Life hands you a baby ocelot in a bar in Honduras, you go for it, douse yourself, revel in it.

Ocelot and beers. The women who helped tend the young ocelot until its big enough to roam the forest on its own.

Darkness descended and the hummingbirds disappeared. It was getting to be the time of night when the young ocelot would need to go inside and we had to head back to the Lodge at Pico Bonito for dinner. We escorted the ocelot to its night retreat. And we got another great look at a formidable predator.

"Pardon me, folks, but could you get out of the way so I can swoop down on that young, tasty kitten?"

The young spectacled owl had flown from its secluded spot to go hunting. It seemed quite interested in the small mammal in our midst. But soon that wild cat will be too big for the owl and join the nocturnal fray. 

If you're ever interested in traveling with me, check out my events page. If you have a group of 8 or more people who'd like to go somewhere with me, let me know sharon@birdchick.com.

Not Getting a Quetzal

How can you not feel like you're on an adventure while birding in a landscape like that? This was taken at Los Naranjos Eco-Archeological Park.

One of the reasons we started our Wildside Nature Tours Honduras trip at Panacam Lodge was that it is close to Santa Barbara Mountain National Park. Resplendent Quetzals are possible there, however, that appears to be my worldwide nemesis bird and we didn't see it. I'm beginning to think that is a bird I am simply not destined to see in the wild because I've been to a number of places where is should be "no problem" for me to find one and all I've gotten is the call and shadow. But I'm not a one bird woman and there were plenty of other birds for me to enjoy in our spot for resplendent quetzal. 

White-eared hummingbird I got video of in slomo mode on my iPhone. This bird was in our mountain guide's backyard.

Coffee and corn grow side by side on the Santa Barbara Mountain. I'm sure the corn kind of makes it shade-grown coffee, right?

Coffee flowers and beans up close. 

Coffee bean with the husk removed, showing the sweet fleshy part that surrounds the bean we like to roast, grind and drink. The flesh was vaguely sweet with just a hint of coffee flavor. It was a pleasant thing to suck on while we hiked up. 

The trails were rocky and slick with moisture. All of us had to take careful steps in our hiking shoes. A doctor once informed me that I have "weak kneecaps" and prone to things sliding out of joint. I try to exercise in a way to minimize that, but I'm also very careful about my footing in such situations, especially when I'm balancing my gear. Our mountain guide clearly lived in the area his whole life and easily managed the trails swiftly in only sneakers. 

Despite the general lack of quetzals, we had great birds like flame-colored tanager, collared trogon, bushy-crested jay, golden-winged warblers and white-faced quail-dove. You can see our eBird list here. 

Craptastic picture of a bird with a glorious name: common chlorospingus. 

A slate colored solitaire. What they lack in color, they more than make up for in song. Check out some of their songs over at Xeno-Canto.

Cinnamon Hummingbird.

The poultry posse in our guides backyard. These critters looked fairly robust. Most of the livestock around Honduras is much thinner than their United States counterparts. 

After our morning romp on mountain trails we were ready for some lunch at D&D Brewery. I took the Birds and Beers sing as a good omen. 

Rice, beans, plantains...a common addition to most meals in Honduras. Mmmmm. The lovely thing about the beans in Honduras is that they have a loverly caramelized, earthy flavor. I'm sure this is some form of lard added to it. But they are delicious. 

After lunch we birded Archeological Park Los Naranjos. There are Mayan ruins that are about 28,000 years old and lots of lovely birds. You could easily spend three hours just around the main entrance. There were motmots, oropendolas and even a few North American songbirds to found. 

The social flycatcher is a daintier version of the great kiskadee you can see in south Texas. 

A summer tanager. Since it was early March when this was taken, it would be in the US in just over a month. 

These birds are EVERYWHERE--the Montezuma oropendola! This is also the bird that non-birding friends email me about whenever they are in Central America. 

Rufous-naped wren. 

Yellow-winged tanager.

Turquoise-browed motmot.

Lake Yojoa

And though we spent most of the late afternoon grabbing lifers and didn't really look at the ruins, we did make a quick walk to Lake Yojoa which was an outstanding view of the mountains (one of which we had been on top of in the morning). As the sun descended on this magnificent view we saw bare-throated tiger-herons, northern jacana, snail kite and purple gallinule. Just when we thought the view couldn't be more magical a few dozen nightjars filled the sky with their bouncy flight. The big treat for me was that it was a mix of common nighthawks and lesser nighthawks and what a treat to be able to study the differences side by side. 

Surprise Roommate In Central America

A video to give you an idea of what it's like birding in Honduras. 

First class on an International Flight doesn't play any games when it comes to food or booze. Thank you, American Airlines.

After a rough autumn, I decided to go through my photos and find things I haven't written about and some of the great things happened in 2016 Turns out, I never wrote on the blog about how much fun I had on my trip to Honduras with Wildside Nature Tours. I also think that I needed some time away from Honduras to digest what I saw. Honduras is heartbreakingly beautiful. Amidst all the rugged wildness, ancient culture and eye searing color, it's also a developing nation and life is very different than it is in the United States. So while there was overwhelming beauty and adventure to be had, there was also immense poverty. 

The greeter at Panacam Lodge in Honduras, a blue-diademed motmot (also known as Lesson's motmot on eBird). 

The view behind my bungalow when I arrived at Panacam Lodge.

We ended up staying at two different places in Honduras. The first two nights we were at Panacam Lodge which was foggy with mystery when we arrived. You just knew cool-ass wildlife was hidden, tucked away in the greenery. 

Hmmmm, evidence that I had a roommate or two sharing my bungalow. 

I wanted to do a little unpacking and freshening up before our group met for dinner. As I took things out of my suitcase, I noted a spot where there was some kind of excrement. It was large, almost as large as a mouse but not quite. I looked up from where the pile was and just where the plaster met the wood in the ceiling I saw a crevice and some movement, definitely insect and probably a bit larger than what I'm used to.

When you travel, especially to countries where it's warm and humid--critters in your room are going to happen. Even if you paid for a single occupancy room on your tour, I guarantee you will have had some sort of roommate that's neither bipedal nor necessarily a mammal.  I'm generally so tired at the end of the day that I can't care about what is in the room with me. There was a time I inadvertently spent the night with a bat at Canopy Tower in Panama--not the worst thing I've ever woken up next to and those are the sorts of things that add character to your travel stories.  I opted to continue unpacking and ignore whatever movement was coming from the crevice in the top of my room.

Then I made the mistake of looking up once more. 

FYI the Spanish for ant is hormigas!

Very large ants were now emerging from the crevice. Now when I say large, I mean about the size of a multivitamin that you take in the morning and wash down with a giant swig of juice so it doesn't get lodged in your throat. Even more alarming was that some had wings. I had a queen hatch happening in my room! This wasn't going to be just a few ants. This was going to be an "Antenning." I can put up with a few bugs, but I really didn't want to wake up at 2am and be covered in about 500 winged ants fluttering around looking for any crevice available to start a new colony. I considered the possibility of leaving doors and windows open, but considering that was even more insect life outside that would be more than happy to come in, I ruled that out. Also, a hatch would no doubt attract bats and I don't need to sleep with one again.

I put everything back in my suitcase and closed it up. I took some pictures of the ants and I went to the front desk with my haphazard Spanish to see about getting another room. I showed them the picture of the ants and tried to explain and got reassuring faces smiling and saying, "Sí, hormigas!"

Mercifully, Elmer Escoto our guide was walking by and heard my voice, "Amiga, what's going on?"

I showed him my phone and he said, "Oh no, you are about to have a lot of ants."

I asked about the possibility of switching rooms but the lodge was packed. "Amiga, go to dinner and I will make sure this is taken care of for you, ok," he said and I dutifully obeyed. 

Every fish dish I had in Honduras was fresh and tasty and served with plantains. 

I'm an adventurous eater, especially when away from home so if there's an entire fish body that's been fried on the menu, I'm going to eat it. Elmer eventually joined our group and assured me the lodge was taking care of things. The fish practically melted in my mouth and paired well with the pickled onions. And any day plantains are involved with a meal is a great day. We dined, we discussed the the following day's itinerary and the bird possibilities ahead.

I went back to my room and heady notes of insecticide punctuated the air to my bungalow. The crevice showed no signs of life. My floor, however, looked like a battlefield out of Game of Thrones with about 500 dead and dying ants. I giggled and decided on a new rule for my room--unless you are laying on the bed, shoes must be worn at all times. I fell asleep safe in the knowledge that I would not be covered in in flying ant queens and let the days travel fatigue carry me away.

My alarm went off the next morning and there were even more dead and dying ants on the floor. I quickly dressed for our morning breakfast-birding and figured that the staff would sweep up the ant carcasses while I was out and I would return to an ant-free room.  

Squirrel cuckoo on the grounds of Panacam Lodge

Ivory-billed woodcreeper hitching up a wooden post at Panacam Lodge in Honduras. The bird was gleaning insects attracted to the lights. Disregard my narration. 

The adorable bat falcon. 

The view from the top of the Panacam Lodge tower. 

A pair of keel-billed motmots tucked in the darkness of fog and forest viewed from the top of the Panacam Lodge tower. 

A simple breakfast to start the day at Panacam Lodge. I swear I could live on nothing but cheese and plantains in Honduras. 

We got in some woodcreeper and motmot action then had some breakfast. Everyone was curious about my ant situation and mercifully I was the only one who had an ant hatch. We birded areas off of Panacam grounds and I'll write more about that in another post. But just birding around the trails of the Lodge was very fun. Here's an eBird list of what was around the lodge. The bat falcon above was just outside the lodge grounds and ended up in an eBird incidental report. 

When we did come back from birding other areas I was anxious to see what my room was like. Clearly the staff had worked hard to sweep up the ants...but more were still stumbling out of the crevice. I spent the night with fewer dead and dying ants and the next day we headed to Pico Bonito Lodge. When I was escorted to my bungalow at that lodge, I instantly heard a "chirp chirp chirp chirp" sound. Nervous, I looked at the staff and they said, "It's a house gecko, all the rooms have them." 

I was ecstatic. If I had a house gecko, they would eat any ants about to hatch. They were a preferable roommate. 

Panacam is a lovely lodge and close to many birding locations--including a spot for resplendent quetzals. The ant incident is just part of the joy of nature travel to remote areas. The staff did the best they could to keep me comfortable during the incident. And as I said, it's fun story to whip out at dinner parties when people ask me about my travels. 

Ants aside or the "antsident" as Non Birding Bill calls it, if you are ever interested in traveling with me, especially if you're interested in digiscoping, laughing and relaxing as well as birding check out my tours page. 

Digibinning with the Renner Technique

I teach quite a few workshops on digiscoping throughout the year. My preferred method is using a smartphone with a spotting scope, but I'll also use an SLR and spotting scope too. My friend Renner Anderson has heralded his love of "digibinning" which is using binoculars and his iPhone to take pictures. 

Curt Rawn got a shot at a Birds and Beers of Renner Anderson showing his "rubber band" technique for attaching his iPhone to his binoculars (this was before he had a PhoneSkope adapter). 

I've always been been dubious of the digibinning technique and advise against it in my workshops. I think there is no easy way to hold the binoculars steady and get a good shot. Renner feels differently. "I always have my iPhone in the field anyway because I am already using it for eBird Mobile, field guides, Merlin and BirdsEye," Renner said. "I like to hike for adventure and exercise and usually don't bring my telescope so it's nice to be able to use my binoculars for getting documentary photos."

At my last digiscoping workshop that I hosted, Renner arrived and was ready to show off his digibinning techinique using his Swarovski ELs, iPhone and PhoneSkope iPhone case and bluetooth shutter release. I grabbed a quick video so you could see the Renner Technique in action and some of the photos he's gotten of birds in the last year. 

Renner also add, "Because I attach the PhoneSkope case to just one eyepiece (the right eyepiece) I can use the other eyepiece to look through with my right eye and this puts me on the bird immediately and very easily, even birds in flight. I focus on the bird using the focus adjustment knob of the binoculars with my right index finger and center the bird in the visual field so I don't have to be looking through the iPhone viewing screen. 

"Because both of my hands are holding the binoculars and I'm looking through the other eyepiece of the binoculars I don't have any way to trigger the shutter with my hands.  For that reason I have developed the idea of holding the PhoneSkope remote shutter between my lips and activating the shutter by squeezing down on the PhoneSkope remote shutter by tightening my jaw.  Not a pretty site but it works really well.

"Only problem here is that if the bird is close I have to adjust for the fact that although the bird may be centered in the field of view of the barrel I am looking through it will be off center for the barrel that the iPhone is looking through.  This doesn't matter for birds at distance such as birds in flight. 

"With my current technique with the PhoneSkope case attached to a single eyepiece I haven't figured out a way to secure the iPhone to the binoculars with a rubber band so I am always nervous that the iPhone might fall.  Currently I just hold the round piece of the PhoneSkope adapter firmly against the binocular eyepiece with my right thumb 

"Of course the Blue Tooth can drain the iPhone battery (not to mention the Gaia tracking app that I am using to document my hiking adventure and BirdsEye and eBird Mobile and Merlin and the field guide apps) so I do bring an extra battery along with me in the field."

Remember, you get a discount when you purchase a PhoneSkope product and use the code Birdchick13 when you check out. 

The Ultimate Goshawk Experience In Maine

The rocky coast of Acadia National Park.

This June I had the opportunity to go to the Acadia Bird Festival in Maine which is a gorgeous place to get Barry Manilow's Weekend In New England stuck in your head. Maine is a fantastic state to visit and Acadia National Park is one of the coolest federal parks you can check out. Blue and gray seemed to be the overwhelming colors while I was there. 

Common eiders chillin' in Maine. 

Northern Parulas were all over. 

Periwnkle snail shells and what I think are blue mussel shells. Feel free to correct me, I'm not BivalveChick...but what a fun name to say out loud for whomever is. 

A pair of black ducks on a pond inside Acadia National Park. 

And since we are keeping with a blue theme, one must devour some blueberry pancakes while in Maine. I highly recommend Sips in Southwest Harbor. A delightful restaurant with great coffee and lovely atmosphere. 

Acadia is especially cool if you're into weird ass water birds like the common eider, Atlantic puffins, black guillemots and warblers like northern parula and black-throated green warblers. Colorful warblers really pop in that somber pallet. If you go to Acadia, either for the festival or on your own, make sure to schedule a boat trip. I didn't do it this time--, but I have before and it's your best bet for seeing puffins and other seabirds. It's also a unique view of this particular national park. Pelagics are fun but they are also exhausting (at least for me) and this trip came at a point when I needed to listen to my body and take things a bit easy. 

While I was at the festival I heard a rumor about a northern goshawk nest that had been located thanks to a high school cross country team that was running on the paths in a woods next to the school. They were dive bombed relentlessly by the female. I've worked with goshawks both in captivity and bird banding. I love the northern goshawk, it is my favorite raptor. As an adult it's gorgeous with it's soft gray feathers and maniacal red eyes. It acts before it thinks--something I can relate to. And they take no shit. I once watched a northern goshawk fly through Sax Zim bog and it noticed a red-tailed hawk perched in the top of a tree. The goshawk changed direction, snuck up behind the beefier red-tail and popped it on the head as it kept flying. The red-tail was clearly startled and watched the goshawk power away, seemingly knowing there was no point in chasing it, it would be too fast and not worth the effort. 

Most of my northern goshawk experience has been in bird banding. What a beauty to behold and have the honor of holding in your hands...and it is a loud ass bird. 

Goshawks are also fierce defenders of their nest and territory. I've heard from more than one wildlife biologist of how the female will dive right at you if she feels you've gotten too close to her nest. I've always wanted to experience that. And it's not like other hawks that might fly at you. This isn't a mere game of chicken, this bird will hit you if need be. I was envious of the cross country team that got the goshawk experience and wanted it as well.

Throughout the festival as I would chill between field trips and workshops at headquarters I noticed certain bird listers sneaking off to see the nest. Those in the know were trying to keep the nest location under wraps but if someone needs a goshawk for their list and had a reputation for being respectful, word would spread. At the end of the festival, I mentioned casually that I'd like to see the nest and maybe digiscope it. Michael J Goode of Down East Nature Tours knew where the nest was and offered to take me in to get a glimpse. It was the end of the last day of the festival, it was cloudy and threatening to rain. We didn't have a lot of time but it seemed worth it. So with another guest we headed over to the school and the surrounding woods. 

Oyster mushrooms abound in the woods on the way to goshawk. 

We crept into the pine woods. I was glad to have a guide, the trails were meandering and there would have been ample opportunity for me to take a wrong turn and question whether or not I'd find the nest. Also, temptation was everywhere in the woods--so many edible mushrooms like this large patch of oyster mushrooms. If I had means to cook in my bed and breakfast room, that would have been my dinner. 

Michael warned me when we were near the general area of the nest. We wanted to be as silent as possible so as not to stress the goshawk and have a chance to see one perched. Oh how naive we were. Before we got to the nest I heard the familiar loud call and a goshawk circled us, periodically landing at the top of the tree, sounding the alarm. We soon found the nest while the bird circled. 

Male northern goshawk calling. 

The bird finally perched and called incessantly from the top of a pine with branches so thick, there was really only one spot to stand to get a glimpse of him. I got a few hasty documentation shots but that was it. I was so happy to see a goshawk in the wild--any day with a goshawk can NEVER be a bad day. But I did have a pang of disappointment...this was not the goshawk experience I'd heard about--of birds diving at us. I realized this was the male and he would simply call in alarm. The female must have been out on a hunt and I wouldn't get the dive bomb experience. 

After I got my shots we decided to turn around and head out. We wouldn't get better photos, we saw the goshawk and we didn't want to stress them out anymore than necessary. Then, something tucked in the woods answered the male's rapid higher pitched cry. This was slower and deeper. The female had arrived. I just happened to have my iPhone out and on slo mo video and held up my phone and pressed play. Before I knew what was happening she was flying right at me! I got the following video within a few seconds of her arrival.  The first few seconds are real time. The second half is her coming at us at half speed. WOW. Warning...I swore...justifiably. 

This is what happens if you ever find yourself anywhere near a northern goshawk nest...the female will drive you out!

THAT was the ultimate goshawk experience I always wanted to have! After she bombed us a second time, she passed a third, this time so low, she almost kneecapped Michael. She perched above us, daring us to go any direction but out. I wanted to digiscope her, but I knew as soon as my objective lens was aimed at her she would dive right for it. And I'm not sure the Swarovski warranty covers talon lens damage. 

We hightailed it out of the woods with her in close pursuit and the male circling us above the tree tops. All in all I think we were there less than five minutes but what an exhilarating five minutes of life that was! One of many nature related dreams checked off my list this year. 

Here are few highlights from the Acadia Bird Festival. This is definitely one to check out...if for the fresh lobster alone. Make sure to get either a National Park Pass or a weekly pass at Acadia. Some of the field trip locations require meeting in the park without going through a gate and if a ranger catches your car without a pass you could potentially get a ticket. 

What a delight to come upon fields of wild lupine as I drove around. 

Fascinating mold patterns on trees. 

Below is a red-breasted nuthatch nest we found right on a trail. Another really cool nest that we found was a junco nest. I knew they nested on the ground, but I'd never seen that. Alas, it was so well hidden that there was no way to get a photo, but how cool to watch a female junco with a beak-ful of food disappear into a clump of vegetation on the ground!

Red-breasted nuthatch nest seen during a field trip at the Acadia Bird Festival in Maine. Male brings in a spider to feed the young and the female takes away a fecal sack (bird diaper). What goes in must come out. Birds digiscoped with Swarovski ATX 65mm scope, iPhone 6s and PhoneSkope adapter.

Pink lady slipper or as I like to call it: testicle flower. 

Maine mosses.

Barnacles.

Acadia where you can hear wood thrushes, hermit thrushes, black-throated green warblers, northern parulas echoing through the trees. I found a log tucked in there where I just laid down, turned off my phone and absorbed the world around me. 

Black guillemot. Alas, I was not able to get a good shot of a puffin.

I don't know my geology that well but the patterns in the rocks along the Maine coast are fascinating. 

This could be you at next year's Acadia Bird Festival. 

Would you like to travel with me? Check out my trip to Cuba in 2017 through Holbrook Travel!

Ode to Dr. Strange

Storm approaches on the Kazakh Steppes. One of the many places I've been thanks to my college degree. 

I just found out Dr. Paul Strange died this week. He was a close friend of my mother’s as well as the man for whom she worked for several years.

My mother is a Christian Scientist who worked as a nurse for Dr. Strange. We can unpack that dichotomy at another time, but when I asked her about how someone who doesn’t believe in medicine could work as a nurse, she simply said, “Lots of people have jobs they don’t believe in.”

My parents both worked hard at full time jobs that they didn’t love. My dad was clearly miserable and I remember thinking that I had to do whatever I could to avoid spending 40 hours of my week doing something I hated. My mother could make any job fun, she blooms wherever she’s planted. I never thought we were poor, but I knew that we didn’t have money like some of the other girls at school who had tanning beds in their homes or routinely went to Florida or Mexico during school vacations. Though my family didn’t have that kind of money, we sometimes went out to eat, had a VCR, a house with a big yard and many of the other comforts of middle class.

It was expected that I’d go to college and get a job I enjoy. I had absolutely no clue about money as a kid, other than my dad poured over spreadsheets and bills on weekends and played the lottery a lot. All my other friends had parents paying for college or scholarships. I figured that’s what would happen to me.

When I started applying to colleges, I got a rude awakening for how much tuition was going to cost. And as much as the travel but bug inside me wanted to go several states away, out of state tuition was out of the question. Indiana State University had reasonable prices and was far enough away that I’d have to stay there and not live at home. I’d been part of a summer theater program at ISU as a high school student so had a reasonable chance of getting some scholarship money.

I applied, I got in.

I figured finances would figure themselves out, either with scholarships, a part time job or this mythical thing called financial aid. My family didn’t qualify for financial aid. I got scholarships but not nearly enough. I didn’t realize at the time how much credit card debt my parents were in—a situation that would come to a head at the end of my college years and subsequently end their marriage.

My mom, not knowing what else to do, did the only thing she could. She prayed. Part of being a Christian Scientist is your daily “lesson” where you read assigned texts of The Bible and also Science and Health by the founder, Mary Baker Eddy. This is done as a daily meditation, you read the assigned passages from the two books and think about how they apply to your life and whatever healing you may need. My mom didn’t just read in the morning, but she took to going to a nearby Christian Science Reading Room on her lunch breaks.

Before she retired, my mom was the office cut up. She was a fun pal to make you laugh with over lunches and cigarette breaks. She was a prankster. She was not above wearing glasses with a penis nose at the office. When she started disappearing over lunch and being evasive about where she was going, it was assumed that my mother was probably having an affair until one day a coworker noticed mom’s car in the parking lot of the Christian Science Reading Room. The car was distinctive, a rusting Mercury Cougar that had gone from dark blue to purple from constant exposure to the sun.

Not long after that, Dr. Strange sat mom down and asked why was she spending her lunches at her church. Mom spilled everything. She confessed her stress about how to send me to college and that she was praying for a miracle.

The next day the doctor called her into his office again and said that he and his wife Judy thought that I could do a lot with a college degree and that I’d be something special. He said that they’d pay the difference in tuition that I didn’t get covered with scholarships. The one stipulation was that I could never be told that the Stranges were behind it.

Of course I was told after I graduated that the full ride scholarship I’d received was actually from the Stranges and I was overwhelmed with gratitude and the idea that two people who mostly knew me through stories from my mother believed in me so much, they’d make it possible for me to go to college. I didn’t have to pay them back other than to live a happy and productive life.

My friends Amy and Jody went with me to Terre Haute for a professor's retirement and we stood on the old New Theatre state where we honed our performance, directing and writing skills. 

There’s so much I wouldn’t have had it not been for them. I’m sure I would have found another way to get a degree, it may have been at a much slower pace and with huge amounts of debt. Who knows where I’d be living and if I would have gotten the same tremendous job opportunities I’ve had here. Thanks to them, I got my degree in four years, I met many life long friends I still see today, I met my husband of 18 years and that’s also where I met the person who encouraged me to move to Minnesota. Though my degree is in theater, my performance and writing skills are a large part of my career as a interpretive naturalist and writer.

I’m forever grateful to Dr. and Mrs. Paul and Judy Strange. I wouldn’t have the weird little life that I cherish so much if they hadn’t stepped in. I sent them a letter after college. I acknowledge them in every book I get published. I try to be helpful to other people when they ask. But how can you ever repay people who step in at a crucial time in your life and open a world of possibilities so selflessly?

Dr. Strange is gone today. And the world for me is a little less than it was before.

Thank you, Paul and Judy. 

Florida Is For Vulture Lovers

"I will beak your car when you turn your back."--Black Vulture.

I spent some time in southern Florida this year. I was there for work, but one of the upsides of Florida is that there is a large supply of lovely birds to practice your photography on. If you are someone who really digs vultures, then Florida should be your vacation destination. You have ample opportunity to soak them in. 

Vultures at dawn.

My work was at Everglades National Park and Biscayne National Park. I stayed in Homestead, FL and when I woke up my first morning there, I found dozens of turkey vultures already in the air, kiting on the breezes. It was one of the eeriest albeit coolest things I'd seen in awhile. The birds hung in the sky, which seemed weird to me to see large soaring birds at it so early in the morning. Where I live, they don't get thermals until about 10am so you really don't see soaring at dawn, but when you're along the coast, oceans change things. But so many birds in the air, so silent, while wind rustled leaves and palms contrasting with the watercolor pallet of dawn make for a fantastic site. 

I soon discovered why there were so many vultures passing Biscayne at all hours--there was a landfill nearby. Here's some video I got with my scope and iPhone:

Those aren't just vultures, the birds swirling closed to the machinery are gulls, but man oh man that's a big ass pile of biomass in the air. 

If you haven't been, Everglades is a gigantic beast of a national park. There are many units and varieties of habitat to check out. I was warned by a colleague that since I was driving a government vehicle, it was imperative while visiting Royal Palm that I should do everything I can to protect the car. The vultures are such an issue, the park has a page dedicated just to them. 

Vehicle displaying proper vulture damage prevention technique at Royal Palm in Everglades National Park. Note the black vulture soaring overhead. 

Apparently it's a thing that black vultures like to chew a car and do thousands of dollars worth of damage. When I pulled into the parking lot for Royal Palm I could see that something was a afoot. Many vehicles were covered in tarps, or at least all the chewy parts were like tires, windshield wipers and the parts around windows. And if you passed all the cars and thought people were just being weird, there was this right outside the visitor center:

Signage at Royal Palm explains the whys and the hows of vulture protection in the parking lot. 

No one seems to know why vultures like to chew on all the rubbery pieces on a car. Is it because they're prone to ripping putrid flesh and they need to keep in shape for when that big road kill deer appears? Or is there some flavor or nutrient that attracts them? No one has the definite answer yet, but one thing is clear, black vultures seem to be the main culprit. Turkey vultures seem content to keep their distance from cars and trucks. 

Here's a black vulture selfie.  

As I meandered the trails around Royal Palm I could see that they had a huge population of black vultures and those vultures gave no fucks about people. Before I took the above black vulture selfie, a group of about 20 people on a tour had walked past. Some paused to take photos and the vultures eyed them, but they were in no hurry to get away. We don't have black vultures where I live in Minnesota, but when I've encountered them in other states they prefer to keep a healthy distance between themselves and the average human. Not so in Florida.

I'm relieved to say that the tarps kept my government vehicle safe from the prying beaks of black vultures and mental note to you, don't trust your vehicle to vultures in south Florida. I'd love to see how rental car companies handle that kind of damage. 

Turkey vulture with daisies, they practically pose for you at Everglades. 

Meanwhile, the much more well behaved turkey vultures are a delight to experience at Everglades. Not only do they have less of an interest in chewing on your car than black vultures, they'll obligingly pose for you in good light when not soaring around looking for food. 

You can see right through this turkey vulture's nose. 

This guy was part of a small group of turkey vultures hanging out near Flamingo at Everglades. I was out there because high tide had brought in a bunch of shorebirds and I was delightedly sitting at a picnic table loving the chance to study dunlins and western sandpipers in non-breeding plumage when a few turkey vultures landed and posed in front some daisies. I know they're not traditionally pretty, but I love the texture of the wrinkles and warts. I love that their nostrils are essentially a hole through their head, layered with sensitive tissue that can detect delicious carrion from a distance and in an appetizing way I'll never comprehend. I love the contrast of the off-white beak, the bright red head and slightly iridescent feathers. And just when I thought this bird couldn't make me love it more, it gave me this:

Hi there...

And then this:

So if vultures are your jam, make South Florida a priority to visit. 

Experiments With Eagles

I went to the Kachemak Bay Shorebird Festival in Homer, Alaska--which is a delightful festival, I highly recommend it. I met a ton of people who were originally from Minnesota and for one reason or another had moved to Alaska. I can see why, it's beautiful and great for people who enjoy the outdoors. Homer actually reminded me quite a bit of northern Minnesota--only with glaciers and mountains. 

I got a kick out of this sign--it reads "gulls" and not "seagulls."

As I was birding along Homer Spit, I saw the above sign and suddenly remembered this was where you used find Jean Keene the Eagle Lady (another former Minnesotan).  She lived along the spit and collected fish from various sources as well as roadkill moose to feed 200 - 300 bald eagles a day in the winter. That's a lot of bald eagles. Many enjoyed it--especially tourists and wildlife photographers (if you Google search "bald eagle flock" the first several photos are from the Eagle Lady feeding spot). Local hotel owners also appreciated a boom in business in winter. But some residents were not so thrilled to have eagles perched on their cars or homes and pooping all day. So the town of Homer has banned the feeding of predatory and scavenging birds, grandfathering her in so she could continue. But when she died, the eagle feeding stopped.

Me with Lynne Schoenborn, Sue Keator and Flat Michelle. 

Two friends from Minnesota, Lynne and Sue came up to the fest and we got to spend some time together. Sue brought along a couple of photos of another friend named Michelle. I love Michelle, she takes photobombing to another level, knows lots about native plants and is always a good time at Birds and Beers...but there's one way we differ: she hates travel. She hates it so much she has said that her goal is to never have a passport. 

So we brought along her avatar in the form of Flat Michelle and began posting photos of her on Facebook. Michelle says it's her favorite form of travel. 

Flat Michelle kicking on back with an obliging sandhill crane in the background. 

Here's Flat Michelle with an obligatory Alaska bald eagle photo. 

One of the places Lynne, Sue and I birded was Anchor Point--which is great for sea ducks, shorebirds and sparrows. There were a gazillion eagles and unlike Homer, people are allowed leave piles of unwanted fish on the beach. You could get quite close to the them, they really are used to people. I suggested that we put Flat Michelle in one of the fish piles and step away. We could then digiscope her with some bald eagles right next to her face. 

Flat Michelle posed with some halibut carcasses. 

We had two different Flat Michelles. One kicking it with a beer bottle and one looking freaked out. We thought with a close proximity to eagles it would be funnier to start out with freaked out Michelle--you'd look freaked if an eagle was eating a dead fish next to your head, right? We placed it in front of a pile of fish that some eagles had been chowing on. We walked back, I set up my scope and we waited...

And waited...

And waited...

A bald eagle warily eyes Flat Michelle.

Eventually an eagle flew over, but it flared up when it saw Flat Michelle and circled a few more times. It landed nearby and just stared at her. A few more eagles flew in but like the first, just lingered along the periphery, occasionally squeaking in apparenty disapproval. The majestic eagles, all reluctant to land near the picture. Gulls and crows flew in but like the eagles, everyone kept their distance. 

The first to let down their guard were the northwestern crows. As soon as one got some food, the others flew in and gobbled up all the fish they could before the eagles and gulls moved in. 

A bald eagle walked behind Flat Michelle and the feasting crows. 

Several more bald eagles flew over and around the fish pile, but none would get near it with Flat Michelle. I thought once the crows showed that it was safe the eagles would join, but they were having none of it. 

A glaucous-winged gull yells at Flat Michelle while a northwestern crow gets a morsel. 

After awhile I thought it would be fun to get a time lapse video of Flat Michelle. Here it is:
 

Soon, another fisherman dumped a pile of halibut on the beach. And not just fish carcasses that have been filleted already but a few completely intact specimens. The eagles immediately flew over and completely ignored our mostly picked over fish pile. I suggested to Sue that we try that tastier pile and maybe use the beer version of Michelle. I wondered if her wide-eyed expression and both hands up was a threatening site to an eagle? So we placed the relaxed, chill beer drinking picture with the pile and stepped way back. 

The northwestern crows wasted no time in joining Flat Michelle. 

The young glaucous-winged gulls were t he first to come sample the fish. After the adults watched to see that nothing bad happened to the young ones, they moved in. 

Meanwhile, that was as close as a bald eagle dared to get to Flat Michelle.  

Here's another time laps with the "beer Michelle."

We also made a movie trailer so Michelle could see the fun she had around Homer, Alaska. 

Greater Roaderunners

One of my bird survey offices in Texas. 

I've kind of transitioned in the last year or so to do less surveys and more writing and giving programs. I love bird survey work, but it's taxing physically both on your body and your time. Basing each week on airports and storms is less exciting as I get older. Spending times in airports over 30 weeks in a year makes it hard to connect with friends. Sure, there is social media, but that's not the same as being there for, "Hey, I had a bad day, can we grab a drink tonight or breakfast tomorrow?" 

A common question I get from friends who knew about my shift in careers is, "Do you miss the travel?"

No, partially because I will never stop traveling. I'm just more selective about the types of travel I will do now. That's not to say that there won't be things I miss. I love point counts and I think that's why I'm drawn to big sits (if you're going to be around the Twin Cities, my park is hosting one on April 30) or simply working my patch over by my house. You have an idea of what will be there but it really takes just staying in one spot over and over to get the big picture. 

Jackrabbit sizing me up on one of my surveys.

Also, just sitting in one spot gives birds and animals a chance to get used to you and in some cases, come over and check out you out. And some of my best birding moments have been on bird surveys. 

A greater roadrunner doing exactly what its name suggests...running in a road. 

I've always had a fondness for roadrunners since I was kid. It may have been because there was a cartoon roadrunner on tv or that my grandparents lived in New Mexico and it was their state bird. I even had a carved roadrunner that played "Kind of the Road" when you wound it up. As a kid I remember thinking that if there were Smurfs in the desert southwest, I bet they'd tame roadrunners and ride them.

When my family took a road trip out in New Mexico, my parents would periodically say from the front seat of the car, "Oh, there goes a roadrunner." Being the youngest sitting in the middle seat in back and being super short, I never got to see them. I thought this incredibly unfair since I would be the one most interested in seeing one. I never really got a great look at a roadrunner as a kid. We stopped someplace for a bathroom break and one ran away from us, but nothing like the quality time one can get with a cardinal. 

Throughout the years when I've been in range of roadrunners, I've had flashes while driving or  watched one scurry in backyards, but just not time to hang out with a roadrunner and really get some great shots. With some birds, I lament as they stay out of reach, but I also realize that at some point I'll get an opportunity, I just need to be patient and wait.

I finally had my roadrunner moment last summer. 

One of the things I'll miss from my Texas surveys: Stripes Gas Station tacos. The chicken fajita is the most reasonable shot at getting vegetables in your day while doing field work. 

One morning I started my first survey spot, unwrapped my gas station taco and pressed start on my stopwatch to start my point counts. Dickcissels were waking up all around me and then I heard a familiar cooing. It was the coo of a greater roadrunner...and it sounded like it was ten feet away. I froze and scanned to my left where there was a tangle of mesquite. 

Greater roadrunner digiscoped with Swarovksi ATX 65mm scope, iPhone 5s and i5 adapter. 

Sure enough, about fifteen feet away was a greater roadrunner singing away. It was not bothered by me at all. The bird was so close I could only get head shots. After a few minutes, I stepped back away to see if I could get a full body shot. 

Check out the sexy postorbital apteria...that's the bare skin that's blue, white and red behind the eye. I've only ever seen them expose it while calling. 

As I watched the roadrunner sing I thought back to when I was in third grade. My parents moved me to a Catholic school mid-year. It was the first day and our teacher was discussing the desert. She asked the class if we could name animals that didn't need a lot of water so they could live in dry climates. I raised my hand and answered roadrunner. She smiled and said, "No, those only exist in Cartoon Land."

She immediately moved on to another student but I couldn't believe she didn't know about roadrunners. The next morning before school I gathered up my National Geographic Field Guide with the roadrunner page bookmarked, my Wonder of Birds book that had a cool series of roadrunner pictures of the adults killing a lizard and feeding it to their chicks, my collection of state bird stamps that included the stamp for New Mexico that had a roadrunner on it, and a tourist brochure for New Mexico that had a picture of a roadrunner on it. I waited until lunchtime and went to the teacher's lounge--it was a different world then, the teacher's lounge door was open so you could see your teachers smoking and if you needed to, you could come in and ask a question. I went in with all of my birding paraphernalia and up to my new third grade teacher who was talking to the Sister Elizabeth the fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Stahl the social studies teacher and the principal Mr. Greer.

"Hi Mrs. Meyers," I said, "I just wanted to let you know that roadrunners do live in real life and they're the state bird of New Mexico." I opened my books and showed the pictures. "I can see why you might be confused, they're not blue like in Bugs Bunny, they're really brown and sometimes people call them the chaparral cock." 

Mrs. Meyers nodded, said she had things to do and left the lounge. I was not her favorite student after that. But it turned out ok, the fourth grade teacher was a nun with a stern reputation. She was also a birder and Sister Elizabeth and I got along just fine when I hit fourth grade. She even gave me a Forebush/May book on the final day of fourth grade. 

Anyway, here's a little video that I got of the roadrunner. You might need headphones to hear the call. iPhones don't have the best microphones and the soft call of a roadrunner is going to be overpowered by dickcissels singing away. 

A roadrunner was vocalizing near me on one of my bird surveys in Texas. Taken with iPhone 5s, Swarovski ATX 65mm spotting scope and Swarovski i5 adapter.

Birding And Camping In Sweden

Kolarbyn is known as Sweden's most primitive hotel. Seriously, check their website, that's how they bill themselves. Can you make out our hut hidden in the Swedish wildnerness?

Did I ever tell you about that time I went camping and birding in Sweden?

Probably not in the blog. This is another in a series of adventures that happened in the last few years that has made it in some of my keynotes or conversations over libations at Birds and Beers, but never made it here. 

So...Sweden:

On this trip I learned to find suitable shelter for surviving a night in the Swedish wilderness as well as how to filter water through a beer can, building a fire from mosses and forage for lingonberries and mushrooms. 

Believe it or not, this trip was work related but I still look back on this trip and wonder...did that really happen? We were based at Kolarbyn Ecolodge which literally bills itself as "Sweden's most primitive hotel." But even though it's primitive, it's still beautiful and your experience is more relaxing than you'd think. It's about a two hour drive northwest of Stockholm. 

The inside of my hut complete with wood burning stove and wooden planks with sheepskin to sleep on. We also added some padding and a sleeping bag for good measure. 

Imagine if some designers from IKEA went out into the Swedish wilderness and designed very tasteful, elegant and minimalist huts with trees, dirt and mosses--you'd have Kolarbyn. The camp specializes in giving you a complete outdoor and survival experience. They were a bit baffled by birders. They expect their guests to be ready for hikes--which birders are but when they hear good birds, they are going to plant ourselves to observe and identify. Even experienced bird trip leaders know that guiding birders is like guiding cats. They walked us past an area that had nesting a family of black-throated divers (aka Arctic loon in North American field guides) and we planted to enjoy not only the view of the birds but the sounds as well. But I think they gradually got the hang of birders. 

A chef cooks fish and cheese over a campfire.

The food was wonderful. Sometimes a chef cooked for us and there were times when we helped prepare the meal. One of the experiences you can have at Kolarbyn is learning to identify edible foods in the Swedish mountains. During our trip in September, blueberries and lingonberries were plentiful and a handy snacks. There were also a variety of edible mushrooms which tasted great sauteed in butter over the campfire. 

Chaffinches lurking around the campfire hoping for some scraps of food. 

It's just not a trip to Sweden without tube food. 

My first morning when I joined the camp for some coffee, the owner of Kolarbyn offered me some caviar from a tube. I soon learned that I could get meat and cheese from a tube as well. You really haven't lived until you have had reindeer meat squeezed out like toothpaste onto toast heated over a campfire.  As I marveled over this strange food, they asked me what food I would have in Minnesota that they might find weird in Sweden. "Lutefisk," I said without thinking--it's the grossest thing people eat here. Fish soaked in lye with the consistency of Jell-O is enough to weird most people out. But I forgot where I was and the Swedes looked at me in astonishment and said that they loved lutefisk. Of course. 

Me next to an ant mound. As part of of our survival training we got to taste ants. They had a citrusy flavor when stressed. 

Now typically on these sorts of trips, the end of the day is capped off by a large meal and a few drinks. Our first night we sat down to an early dinner. The plan was to go out on a moose and wolf safari in the dark. The beverages were presented in the form of juice and non-alcoholic beer. Everyone looked confused and asked where the real booze was hiding. Our safari host smiled and said, "We have learned that if we don't give you alcohol you are much quieter and we have a better chance of finding wolf and moose."

More than one of us lamented that we hadn't hit the duty free shop at the airport before arriving to the camp. 

Two of 21 moose seen in one hour's time on our Swedish night time moose safari.

The moose safari did not disappoint--we saw several. Moose are kind of a confusing thing in Europe. Over there, they call moose "elk." What we call elk in North America, they call "wapiti."  We have had a steep decline in the moose population in my home state of Minnesota so it was a real treat to see so many. One of the moose we saw had a fresh injury on its nose, like a chunk had been bitten out of it--perhaps by wolves. Actually, I can understand why Minnesota had so many Swedes settle here. The landscape is very similar--as is the wildlife. Not only did we see moose but we had divers (loons) and wolves. 

Piece of moose hoof found in fresh wolf poop. 

We saw lots of evidence of wolves--especially their poop. We staked out a spot on a trail to one of their dens in the hopes of one or two passing by. Though we didn't see the wolves, we did have some capercaillie settling into a roost tree near by--those things are so huge, their bodies cracking branches sounded more like Big Foot was coming through the forest than grouse. We never did see wolves on this trip, but we did hear them howl. I've seen wolves in Minnesota and Israel (though that one looked more like a coyote) but getting to hear a pack howl on one of our nighttime safaris was one of the coolest non-birding things I have ever part of--and worth a bit of sobriety. Sitting in utter darkness and in such a remote area of the Swedish wilderness under innumerable stars on a carpet of spongy mosses and a pack of wolves starts howling...I get goosebumps now remembering. 

Speaking of sounds, get a load of this video: 

This is a method of calling in livestock grazing high in the mountains. We heard this in northern Sweden at an ecolodge called Kolarbyn. This voice echoing off of the trees and lake was as beautiful as the wolves we heard howling at night.

One night they brought in a woman named Christina Holmström who does "kulning" which is a method of calling in livestock from the mountains. On our final night they allowed us to cut loose and have some wine around the fire. As we were sipping and toasting, this song started echoing off of the lake. Her evening song was just has haunting as the wolves howling. By the way, Kolarbyn also has a floating sauna on this lake which I highly recommend using, if you get too hot simply jump in to cool off or sit on the dock marveling the stars or northern lights. 

Forgoing huts or tents, we spent a night sleeping directly under the stars and woke to black-throated divers yodeling off the lake in the morning. 

The ground beneath us was moss, berries and mushrooms. Pro tip: don't eat the red capped mushroom. 

Daniel Green with me in Sweden. He helped us find lesser-white fronted goose. 

After camping we headed back towards to Stockholm but did a bit of wetlands birding along the way. I was excited because we met up with Daniel Green of Bird Safaris Sweden who I have met before on my travels in Israel and south Texas. A great birder who is a great guide for Sweden or anywhere else you'd wish to travel around the world. 

Barnacle goose.

I was excited for this spot because it was chock full of barnacle geese. This is a glassy looking goose that I've always wanted to see. Thanks to television, they're also known as the "base jumping goose."

But there were all sorts of waterfowl and shorebirds here including lesser white-fronted goose (which my pictures are terrible and are not here). It was a great trip and between the food and the birds, I think Europe is one of my all time favorite birding destinations outside of the United States. 

More birds below:

Marsh harrier and common buzzard soaring over our heads.

Swedish jackdaws. 

White-tailed eagle. 

Hooded crow and jackdaws. 

Apparently is customary to have a photo of the king and queen of Sweden in the bathroom. Even in an outhouse.