ABA Blog

2013 AOU Check-list Committee Proposals - Part 3

They're coming fast now. Not much more than a week after the second batch of proposals drops comes the third. Thanks to Morgan Churchill for keeping on top of the AOU's actions and posting them on the ABA's Facebook Discussion Group.

The disclaimers that should be second nature by now apply once more. These are proposals on which the committee has yet to vote, or at least they have yet to make those decisions public. No decisions are official until they are published in The Auk, the journal of the American Ornithologists' Union, this July. The entire list of proposals is available on the AOU's website here (.pdf). We'll focus on those proposals that affect the ABA-Area and Hawaii, which happens to be all of them this time around.

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Return Hawaii Creeper Oreomystis mana to the genus Loxops

The genus Oreomystis currently consists of two species, the 'Akikiki and the Hawai'i Creeper, which were considered to be closely allied due to similarities in ecology, behavior, and tongue mophology. As it turns out, however, the nuclear DNA suggests that Hawai'i Creeper is actually much more closely related to the honeycreepers in the genus Loxops, which consists of the 'Akeke'e and the 'Akepa, and the similarities between it and the 'Akikiki are the result of convergent evolution. Crazy stuff. Though the proposal places Hawai'i Creeper within Loxops, it may be that the species will actually require its own monotypic genus. Per usual, more study is required.

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Split White-breasted Nuthatch Sitta carolinensis into 2, 3, or 4 species

White-breasted Nuthatch has long been on the list of next potential splits based on obvious differences in vocalizations and subtle but consistent differences in plumage and bill size among the various populations. Moreover, those populations shake out in ways similar to established splits like the Solitary Vireos (Blue-headed, Plumbeous, Cassin's) and the sapsuckers (Yellow-bellied, Red-naped, Red-breasted). Recent genetic work bears this out, with an additional fourth clade occupying the southern Rockies south into Mexico.

If we're going to see some sort of split here though, the question of how many species will be pared off of Sitta carolinensis is still wide open. A four species split seems least probable, but three species (which combines the northern Rockies nelsoni and the southern Rockies/Mexico lagunae) would correspond to the three known vocal groups. As work still needs to be done to determine the contact zones between the three western subspecies maybe a simple east/west division is the most likely outcome. Assuming, of course, this proposal passes muster with the majority of the committee.

"Eastern" White-breasted Nuthatch, photo by Mike Bergin/10,000 Birds

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Adopt new English names for Artemisiospiza belli and A. nevadensis

The presence of this item on the docket, coupled with the first sentence reading, "Now that we have voted to split Sage Sparrow into two species," would seem to strongly imply that the Sage Sparrow split mentioned in the first of these posts is a done deal. New splits usually mean both species get brand new names, but these sparrows are not technically "new" species as they were treated separately by the AOU back in 1931. As such, it has been suggested that the committee buck the trend of proposing two new names and retain the name "Sage Sparrow" to refer to the sageland specialist A. nevadensis. The other can be called "Bell's Sparrow", a name which has long been used to refer to the westernmost subspecies

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Change the linear sequence of families in the Charadriiformes

More rearrangement here, this time of the various families in Charadriiformes on which there has been a lot of recent genetic work. Among other things this proposal moves the stilts/avocets and oystercatchers ahead of the plovers and places the alcids right between the skuas and the gulls.

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Transfer Providence Petrel Pterodroma solandri from Appendix to main list

Transfer Fea’s Petrel Pterodroma feae from Appendix to main list

Add Double-toothed Kite Harpagus bidentatus to the U.S. List

Add Rosy-faced Lovebird Agapornis roseicollis to the main list

Transfer Nandayus nenday from Appendix to main list and change English name to Nanday Parakeet

Add Asian Rosy-Finch Leucosticte arctoa to the main list

The proposals above are consolidated as they are all essentially housekeeping that serves to bring the AOU check-list in line with various recent updates to the ABA checklist. Providence Petrel, Double-toothed Kite, and Asian Rosy-Finch are added based on naturally occurring vagrants in Alaska, Texas, and Alaska again, respectively. Fea's Petrel is finally freed from its slashed purgatory as the species is recorded annually in North American waters and has been determined to be distinguishable from Zino's Petrel in the field. The two species of parrots were recently added to the ABA checklist based on established populations in Arizona (Rosy-faced Lovebird) and Florida (Nanday Parakeet).

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Update the classification of siskins & goldfinches

Having not that long ago seen our goldfinches and siskins removed from the long-standing Carduelis genus into the old-but-new-again genus Spinus (which re-created the hilarious and fun to say Spinus pinus for Pine Siskin), it looks like they'll be on the move once again. Those South American finches who had retained the genus Carduelis are now being reorganized into a much larger trans-hemispheric goldfinch/siskin group and Sporagra is apparently the oldest available name. It may turn out, however, that the North American goldfinches (American, Lesser, Lawrence's) are distinct enough to get their own genus, which would likely be Astragalinus.

Both are a pale shade of Spinus in this birder's opinion, but we can't have it all.

The full list, including background information and recommendations, is available here (.pdf)

Open Mic: A Record-breaking Bahamas Big Year

At the Mic: Woody Bracey

Elwood D. Bracey, MD, is a retired physician who now lives in Treasure Cay, Bahamas, where he is very active in the birding community.

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January of 2012 started auspiciously. The early part of the month saw several productive Christmas Bird Counts and some rare birds in The Bahamas. And I watched the film The Big Year. Those circumstances persuaded me to challenge Tony White's single-year record of 198 species, and by the end of January, I was already up to 155, a new monthly record for me.

The Grand Bahama CBC tallied Western Kingbird, Hermit Thrush, Ruby-crowned Kinglet, Louisiana Waterthrush, and White-throated Sparrow, all very rare in The Bahamas.

A rough road trip to Hole in the Wall in southernmost Abaca gave us three Kirtland's Warblers. And the good birds just kept popping up.

All the expected wintering species were joined by a Swainson's Hawk (a first for the Caribbean, well photographed by Bruce Hallett at left) and a Horned Lark. The Horned Lark required a trip to Nassau, where the bird was feeding in the short grass of a golf course with Palm Warblers and Least Sandpipers.

A highly unusual Greater Scaup was well documented on Hobby Horse Lake, and the lone Anhinga on Paradise Island, later photographed by Linda Huber, may have been the last survivor among the birds that once bred there. I also added a Gadwall at Harrold and Wilson Ponds, a female Shiny Cowbird at Rainbow Chicken Farm, and the Cuban Grassquits and Pied Imperial Pigeons of central Nassau; those latter two species, introduced many years ago, are now well established, as is the Caribbean Dove, originally imported from Jamaica for hunting—and smart enough now to spend most of its time hiding in the dense understory of the Bahamas National Trust Botanical Garden.

The free-flying exotic waterfowl kept by Pericles Maillis in the western suburbs of Nassau often attract wild migrants, among them the beautiful male Northern Pintail that joined the Green-winged and Blue-winged Teal and White-cheeked Pintails on the pond.

More controversial was the Caribbean Coot, with its high white frontal shield, found on the abandoned Shark Golf Course; though the AOU recognizes this species, others, including David Sibley, have their doubts. I counted this species, and in fact found another good candidate later in the year on the pond at the Treasure Cay Golf Course; both were photographed by Tony Hepburn. A Black-headed Gull, present as an immature in 2010-2011, returned in 2012 as a handsome adult, molting into its dark-headed breeding plumage during its stay.

Back on Abaco, the Organic Vegetable Farm maintained its status a the best place to see Bahama Yellowthroats (hundreds!). We also had a Chipping Sparrow, a second White-throated Sparrow, American Pipits, and a young male Ruby-throated Hummingbird. Nine Barn Owls crowded into a single large ficus tree overlooking a recently plowed field, attracted by the same mice and rats that kept the Swainson's Hawk there all winter, too.

Several early February deepsea fishing trips turned up Magnificent Frigatebirds and Audubon's Shearwaters, but no Manx, which are possible at that time of year. A favorite spot for sparrows, the Big Bird poulty Farm south of Marsh Harbor produced such good wintertime finds as Lincoln's, Savannah, and Grasshopper Sparrows, along with American Robins, American Pipits, Dickcissel, Blue-headed Vireo, Nashveille Warbler, and a Northern Rough-winged Swallow. Most frustrating was a Swainson's Warbler that popped up for Bruce Hallett to photograph while I, just ten feet away, missed it. Nothing would bring that skulker back out again.

Spring migration can be a non-event in The Bahamas. But 2012 was different. I'd never seen so many migrants, especially thrushes and seed-eating birds. After a cold front with rain on April 24, I counted 20 Veeries, 24 Gray-cheeked Thrushes, and 2 Swainson's Thrushes at Angelfish Point. Later that day I had a Wood Thrush along the Treasure Cay sewage outfall. Four migrant thrush species in one day is a once-in-a-lifetime thing in The Bahamas!

Swallows were numerous, too, including Bank and Cliff among the commoner Tree, Barn, and Bahama Swallows. A lone Chimney Swift was seen high above the coppice, where I found Red-eyed Vireos and Eastern Kingbirds and yet more thrushes along a narrow trail. Our backyard feeder was a riot of color with Painted and Indigo Buntings galore, two Blue Grosbeaks, and a male Rose-breasted Grosbeak. The grosbeak stayed for a week, but a female Ruby-throated Hummingbird was a one-day wonder. That same last week of April saw such summer residents as Gray Kingbird, Black-whiskered Vireo, and Bahama Mockingbird return and set up territories, while Blackpoll Warblers continued to pass through until mid-May.

In early May, Bridled, Sooty, Roseate, and Common Terns followed the Least Terns back to The Bahamas. Then came the White-tailed Tropicbirds, the Antillean Nighthawks, and the Great, Cory's, and Sooty Shearwaters. Finally, on May 12, after hearing the birds deep in the coppice, I saw my first Key West Quail-Dove for the year at Angelfish Point.

June is the month for fishing tournaments and deepsea trips. We continued to see good numbers of pelagic species, including a Black-capped Petrel fifteen miles off Munjack Cay. Most exasperating was the mid-afternoon revelation one day by the mate that he had seen a "Jesus Bird" cross our wake earlier in the day; I never saw a Wilson's Storm-Petrel on a single one of the ten or more deepsea trips I made in 2012.

Abaco was quiet for the rest of the summer, but trips to other islands really helped my list. With the help of Ed Rahming and Lewis Phillips, my late-June adventure on South Andros added Great Lizard Cuckoo, Indian Peafowl, Bahama Oriole, and eleven Cave Swallows. In July, my wife, Betsy, and I added Pearly-eyed Thrasher and Red-footed Booby on San Salvador, where surprises included a Purple Martin, an American Avocet, and lots of Gull-billed Terns.

The expected Snowy Plovers were nowhere to be found, but the endangered subspecies of the West Indian Woodpecker was easy to find along Jake Jones Road. 

A storm in late August brought some unusual fall migrants to New Providence. Most notable were the Arctic Tern and the two Black Terns seen on the stony shores of Lake Killarney by Paul Dean and Tony White and photographed by Tony Hepburn. By the time I got there, two other much-needed birds, a Sandwich Terns and a female Boat-tailed Grackle, had left: I would have to wait 'til later in the year for them.

Back on Abaco, we had the pleasure of the company of a young American Flamingo on Maillis's Pond through the summer.

Unbanded and not yet entirely pink, this was most likely a second-year bird. The flamingo departed at the end of September, but a Wilson's Phalarope, the first for Abaco, appeared on the very same pond October 2, spinning and feeding with several Greater and Lesser Yellowlegs.

At the Poultry Farm we had an Empidonax Flycatcher, an Eastern Wood-Pewee, two Blackburnian Warblers, and a tantalizing thrush. Browner than a Gray-cheeked Thrush, the bird did not vocalize, and though we suspected a Bicknell's Thrush, we did not count it. The farm near Treasure Cay gave us several sightings of a Philadelphia Vireo and a Great Crested Flyatcher, a Blackburnian Warbler, several Tennessee Warblers, and a lone Cedar Waxwing were at Robert's Nursery. Most exceptional was the second Bahamas record of a Warbling Vireo, seen on October 18 near Marsh Harbor with Becky Marvil, who got diagnostic photographs of the bird.

The arrival of Hurricane Sandy on October 26 was much worse than predicted. Three days later, I met Bruce Hallett and Margo Zdravokovic on Grand Bahama to look for birds blown in from the continent. An Eastern Bluebird, perhaps only the second record for The Bahamas, was feeding at West End among the distressed swallows, pipits, and Palm Warblers. The 25 Common Terns at West End Point were exceptional; among them were two Sandwich Terns, the only ones I saw all year. At McClean's Town, on the eastern end of the island, we found two Clay-colored Sparrows, well photographed by Hallett.

Back on Abaco, an Orange-crowned Warbler was in the Avocado Grove at the Big Bird Poultry Farm in mid-November, and a House Wren and a Swamp Sparrow, both extreme rarities, were photographed at the always interesting Cooperstown Dump. The next day I found a Wilson's Warbler at Robert's Nursery, and on November 23 I had a Swainson's Warbler in the exact spot at the poultry farm where Bruce Hallett had photographed the bird in the spring. That same day I watched a seemingly large, silent Myiarchus with a pronounced yellow belly. Brown-crested Flycatcher? Maybe, but it did not call, and I did not count it. 

I thought I'd missed the Chestnut-sided Warbler for the year, but on November 28, one emerged from the deep coppice into plain view. Another miss avoided!

A visit to Great Inagua was essential for several species, so Hallett and I met in Nassau and went on to Matthewtown, the only settlement on the most southerly island of the The Bahamas. It had rained for two weeks straight, roads were flooded, the mosquitoes were ferocious. But we could watch thousands of courting American Flamingos, and we added Roseate Spoonbill, Snowy Plover, Burrowing Owl, and a bonus American Wigeon to my year list. 
The most amazing sight was of a Peregrine Falcon nailing an exceedingly rare Greater Scaup on the ponds; the scaup survived, dazed. We were interested to find a population of Red Jungle Fowl living in the woods far from any human habitation; Warden Henry Nixon told us they had been there for years, but I listed Gallus gallus as an exotic, uncounted species.

Back in Nassau, on November 28 I saw a Caspian Tern from Tony White's deck. Tony, competitive as he is, congratulated me on breaking his Bahamas big year record—a real friend!

The end was in sight, and I made a big push in the last two weeks of the year with three Christmas Bird Counts. First up was South Abaco, where we located another House Wren. Nassau was next, with another Wilson's Phalarope loafing with the Black-bellied Plovers; a female Boat-tailed Grackel flying in front of my vehicle finallly checked off a bird I'd missed several times during the year. Two Bahama Mockingbirds, seen with the CBC compiler Neil McKinney, were also good finds for the early winter.

A sunny Christmas Day was made even more joyous when I saw my first Red-breasted Mergansers in over two years. The Green Turtle Cay mudflats were alive with shorebirds, including 52 Red Knots, an all-time high count for that species anywhere in The Bahamas.

Next morning I flew to Grand Bahama for one last shot at the scarce Brown-headed Nuthatch, which had eluded me three times during the year. On December 27, at our third and final stop, when my friend Bruce Purdy had already got back into the vehicle, I heard the call; not one but two of these little tree creepers came in close to pose for pictures, going up and down and upside-down on the Caribbean pines. What a delight, and what a brilliant end to my big year of 242 species!

New Year's Eve was a welcome end to the frenzy: it was our anniversary, and I promised my wife that she would be a bird widow no longer. Many thanks to her and to all my good birding friends for their help. 

 

2013 AOU Check-list Committee Proposals - Part 2

The second round of AOU Check-list proposals was released last week. The entire South America heavy set is available at the AOU website here (.pdf), but just like last time I'll keep the focus on those that will potentially affect the ABA-Area.

The same disclaimer applies as well. It's important to note that these are proposals on which the committee has yet to vote, or at least they have yet to make those decisions public, and as always there are some that are unlikely to make the cut formally but are still interesting from a systemics perspective for those who dig that sort of thing.

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Make changes to linear sequence in family Mimidae

Mockingbirds, Catbirds, and Thrashers are apparently due for some revision, as their relationships have been the subject of several molecular phylogenetic studies in the last few years. There's nothing here particularly controversial, though species limits between Northern/Tropical Mockingbirds remain an open question.

Northern Mockingbird, photo by Nate Swick

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Split Nutting's Flycatcher into two species: Myiarchus nuttingi and Myiarchus flavidior

Nutting's Flycatcher consists of two subspecies, the northern inquietus of western Mexico and the southern flavidior that ranges from southern Mexico to Costa Rica. Based on differences in voice, preferred habitat, and plumage, it is proposed that the two populations are distinct enough to be considered species in their own right. All ABA-Area records come from the northern inquietus population, so no new species would be added to our list. The name Ridgway's Flycatcher is proposed for flavidior.

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Add Common Moorhen Gallinula chloropus to the AOU Checklist

When Common Moorhen was split along Old World/New World lines our Gallinula became Common Gallinule and Common Moorhen was relegated to Eurasia. At almost the same time this decision was finalized, however, a Gallinula sp was collected on Shemya Island, Alaska. That specimen was determined to be the newly split Common Moorhen, adding the species to the North American lists as a naturally occuring vagrant.

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Merge all North American rosy-finches into Leucosticte tephrocotis

Undoubtedly the most controversial proposal on this particular docket. Examination of the sequence data from 201 rosy-finches of the three North American species, along with other Eurasian finch species, found that the North American rosy-finches are not as distinct as originally thought. The differences between them are primarily defined by local adaptation rather than historical relationships, theoretically making the whole rosy-finch complex on this continent an example of clinal variation, albeit one obscured by their patchy distribution.

I'm not a geneticist by any means (I can't even convincingly play one on TV), so I'm not sure what to make of all of this but the findings seem compelling. If lumped, it is proposed that the species go by the name American Rosy-finch.

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Change the linear sequence of Haemorhous finches

Another fairly straight-forward rearrangment of a genus based on genetics. The North American "Purple" finches used to be placed firmly in the genus Carpodacus along with Old World rosefinches. They've since been carved out with the old but still bloody genus Haemorhous resurrected for them. This is just a minor fixing of the trio's spots in relation to each other.

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Change the citations for nine species described by Thomas Say

We close with a little historical drama. Sort of. Thomas Say was an influential naturalist and taxonomist of the late 18th and early 19th centuries. He's perhaps most familiar to birders as the inspiration for the Say's Phoebe, named after him by Charles Bonaparte (he of the gull).

In 1819 and 1820 Say made expeditions to the Rocky Mountains under the command of a Maj. Steven Long, the results of which were published in the Account of an expedition from Pittsburgh to the Rocky Mountains compiled by Edwin James and published in what was always thought to be 1823. As such, the authority for all the species described in that text, including those western stalwarts Rock Wren, Band-tailed Pigeon, and Long-billed Dowitcher among others, was cited as "Say, 1823, in Long, Exped. Rocky Mount.”

As it turns out, the James title was published in December of 1822, so the date needs to be changed. Also, the role of Edwin James was historically minimized and as the primary editor of the account he should be so noted. So the citation for those species described in the aforementioned title will now read "Say, 1822, in James, Acct. Exped. Rocky Mount.”

So maybe not all that dramatic after all.

The entire list of proposals is available here.

ABA Set to Enforce List Totals

 

    Let's face it—the birding community has always had a great big elephant, or perhaps an elephant bird, in the room: birders who cheat. Sure, most of us walk the line, recording only the birds we are certain we've seen or heard, letting those occasional "big ones" get away, and always endeavoring to count only the species we are certain we have seen or heard and correctly identified.

    And yet, every year, as surely as the loons precede the geese on the checklist, there are those among us who always seem to be just a little too far ahead. You know what I mean...you're an active birder, you're in the loop, you read the e-mail lists and get the text messages. You're ready at the drop of a hat to tell the boss you've had a family emergency and head out on an impromptu cross-country odyssey as soon as the news of that next new bird hits your smartphone. Whenever anything avian that's even the slightest bit unusual shows up, you're there.

    Sure, every so often you have just the teensiest little tyrannulet-sized bit of trouble remembering birthdays, anniversaries, trash pick-up day, credit card billing dates, and the names of your children, but rare birds...you never forget those.

    You're the Rain Man of rarities, the encyclopedia of extralimitals, you erupt over irruptives, and you're deadly serious about casuals.

    But each time you surf to Listing Central, there's Stanley Stringer or Sally Shaky-Call, always two or three or fifteen hundred birds ahead of you in the list totals for the area, state, country, region, parish, patch, province, or prefecture that you aspire to own.

    Three words: It ain't right. No, four words: It just ain't right. No, five words: It just ain't ... okay, four words. You were there at the possible Great Black-headed Gull that turned out to be a Ring-billed with a bean dip can stuck on its head. You showed up at the reported Siberian Accentor site, knowing from the get-go that it was highly unlikely that there was a pair of them and that they were building a nest in the awning of a local strip mall. And that's not even getting to the real accidentals. You saw all of those. Every. Last. One.

    But you never, never, not once ever, saw Stan or Sally. Not at the Christmas Count, not at the bird club meeting, not on a boat, not on a train nor with a goat. You were there. They weren't. How on earth is it that they nudge you out, year after year?

    You know how. Go ahead, say it. They cheat. Cheat! Cheat-cheat-cheat-cheery-up-che-deedle-CHEAT!

    In most sports, they have referees. Heck, even dog or cat shows have judges. Until now, birders have had no one to make sure that we're all on the up and up. Enter the ABA Listing Police.

    A brave team of men, women, and incredibly lifelike cyborgs. Highly trained. And all dedicated to making sure that not only are our ducks in a row, but our flycatchers are in a column. And all our check marks are exactly where they ought to be.

    This spring, when you bird your local wildlife refuge, state park, sewage ponds, or rendering plant, expect to see them there, fearlessly confronting those who would count the less than certain or claim the not-quite-fully documented.

    Those found to be in violation will be penalized. Minor misidentifications will have their lists docked 10%. More serious frauds may result in fines, censure, shunning, and, in extreme cases, hat brim removal. That's right...your Tilly will be turned into a fez. Everyone will know.

    We at the ABA are pleased to provide this service. Gone are the days of simply knowing each other, having a sense of shared responsibility, and, in the final analysis, believing that each birder's list was his or her own and that it was ultimately all about fun and enjoying the beauty and excitement of birds.

    The ABA Listing Police. We're watching you watching birds.

2013 AOU Check-list Committee Proposals

It's split and lump season already, and the proposals for the most recent taxonomic updates to the AOU North American Check-list, which in turn are incorporated into the ABA Checklist, have been kicking around on the internet for a few weeks now. The AOU is considering 13 proposals that have been submitted in 2012, not all of which involve ABA-Area birds as the AOU's North American jurisdiction includes Mexico and Central America to Panama's southern border.

It's important to note that these are proposals on which the committee has yet to vote, or at least they have yet to make those decisions public, and as always there are some that are unlikely to make the cut formally but are still interesting from a systemics perspective. This post will only mention those changes that affect the ABA-Area, but if you're interested please refer to the official list of proposals for the whole ball of wax (.pdf).

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Recognize Cabot’s Tern Thalasseus acuflavidus as distinct from Sandwich Tern T. sandvicensis

One of those Old World/New World splits that is not entirely unanticipated, a proposal was made to formally split the North American acuflavidus ssp and South American eurygnathus ssp of Sandwich Tern from the nominate Eurasian sandvicensis. The proposal is based on differences in mtDNA which found the New World populations to be closer to Elegant Tern. The New World birds would then be called Cabot's Tern.

While there are currently no confirmed records of nominate Sandwich Tern in the ABA-Area (an oversight birders in the northeast US and the Atlantic provinces will probably go about remedying in short order), an unusual Sandwich Tern in Illinois in 2010 was as good a candidate as we've ever seen and undoubtedly deserves closer scrutiny in light of this proposal. More information on that bird is available at the North American Birding blog.

North America's first nominate Sandwich Tern? photo by Rick Remington, Chicago, IL, September 2010

 

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Split Barolo Shearwater Puffinus baroli

Splits among the tubenoses have become de rigueur as we learn more about how they segregate themselves on and among the archipelagos where they breed, and the small Puffinus species have been a particularly tough nut to crack. Barolo Shearwater is split from Little Shearwater by voice, morphometrics, and, of course, mtDNA. This affects the ABA-Area as all North American records of Little Shearwater have been identified as this subspecies, which would then replace Little Shearwater on the ABA Checklist. 

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Revise the classification of sandpipers and turnstones

We've become more or less accustomed to the rearrangement of one or more groups of birds every year. This time the genera Arenaria (turnstones) and Calidris draw the short straw. 

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Split Sage Sparrow (Artemisiospiza belli) into two species

This is a cool one that would add a new species to the ABA Checklist. We've known for some time that the two populations of Sage Sparrow, nevadensis of the Great Basin and belli of California, differ from each other in significant ways and do not interbreed in areas where both are found. They've even been treated as separate species by some authorities, notably sparrow guru James Rising.

The mtDNA of thr two populations looks to confirm what was always suspected, and the two groups differ significantly genetically in addition to the long observed differences in appearance and song for what seems to be a pretty clear cut split. The only question now is what to call the new species. Great Basin Sparrow and California Sparrow? Or will we pull out the dreaded hypens for our two Sage-Sparrows?

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Change the generic placement of Otus flammeolus

Turns out our little dark-eyed, migratory, moth-eating Flammulated Owl is not as closely related to the Old World Otus owls as previously suspected, but it's not really like the New World Megascops Screech-Owls either. The best option then is to defer to noted golden-age ornithologist Elliot Coues, who placed them in their own Psiloscops genus way back in 1899. Everything old is new again. 

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Recognize Hanson’s new species of White-cheeked Geese, Branta spp.

Undoubtedly the proposal most likely to cause North American birders to tear out their own hair is the one that makes the case for paring off an additional four species from the Canada Goose complex. The proposal is based on a posthumously published work by ornithologist Harold Hanson and, given the fact that Hanson meticulously described over 200 distinct subspecies of Canada and Cackling Goose, perhaps we should be thankful that only four made the cut.

Richard Banks, who reviewed Hanson's magnum opus in the Wilson Journal of Ornithology, urges caution. For that reason and other, perhaps obvious, ones it's a very unlikely proposal to pass. I don't know about you all, but I'm pretty relieved about that.

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Move the Hawaiian honeycreepers (Drepanidinae) to subfamily Carduelinae

Not in the ABA-Area (at least, not yet), Hawaii's honeycreepers have been shuffled around the passerines for decades and most recently were slotted into Fringillidae. This most recent analysis of the family's genetics puts them into subfamily Carduelinae, with Pine Grosbeak and the Carpodacus rosefinches of Asia as sister taxa.

North America's Oldest New Bird?

A review of Snyder and Fry, Validity of Bartram's Painted Vulture (Aves: Cathartidae). Zootaxa 3613(1):61-82. 

I bet it's been a while since you've seen a Small-headed Flycatcher, or a Townsend's Bunting, or a Carbonated Warbler. But I'm equally sure that most of us have heard of those birds, "nonce species" collected or claimed once or twice a couple of hundred years ago and never reliably encountered since.

And I'm almost as confident that there are birders who have never run across the Painted Vulture.

In 1774, William Bartram, the great Pennsylvania botanist and naturalist, was in Florida. There he found two vulture species "not mentioned in history," one of them "a beautiful bird,"

the painted vulture. The bill is long and strait almost to the point, when it is hooked or bent suddenly down and sharp; the head and neck bare of feathers nearly down to the stomach, when the feathers begin to cover the skin, and soon become long and of a soft texture, forming a ruff or tippet, in which the bird by contracting his neck can hide that as well as his head; the bare skin on the neck appears loose and wrinkled, which is of a deep bright yellow colour, intermixed with coral red; the hinder part of the neck is nearly covered with short, stiff hair; and the skin of this part of the neck is of a dun-purple colour, gradually becoming red as it approaches the yellow of the sides and forepart. The crown of the head is red; there are lobed lappets of a redish orange colour, which lay on the base of the upper mandible.... The plumage of the bird is generally white or cream colour, except the quill-feathers of the wings and two or three rows of the coverts, which are of a beautiful dark brown; the tail which is large and white is tipped with this dark brown or black; the legs and feet of a clear white; the eye is encircled with a gold coloured iris; the pupil black. (Bartram, Travels 150-151)

American ornithology has been skeptical: While a few authors (including, if memory serves, Roger Tory Peterson in the 1980 Field Guide) have been willing to believe that Bartram had seen and then incompetently described a King Vulture, most simply assume that his Florida bird is concocted of poor memory, rich imagination, and ignorance.

Now come Noel Snyder and Joel Fry with a compelling re-assessment of the evidence—some of it familiar, much of it new—for the historic validity of Bartram's Painted Vulture. Their argument is as simple as it is cogent: There is at least one earlier eighteenth-century description and painting, evidently unknown to Bartram, of birds resembling his (and differing in similar ways from the King Vulture); and none of the modern arguments against the credibility of Bartram's description bears up under closer examination. They conclude:

Together, these and other factors make a strong case for acceptance of Bartram's Painted Vulture as a historic resident of northern Florida and likely adjacent regions.... extinct by the early 19th century.

Forty years before Bartram's Florida discovery, Eleazar Albin described and painted a living vulture kept in captivity in London; the authors note that both Albin's text and his illustration (above) are a "close match" for the Painted Vulture. Particularly notable is the tail pattern, described (and, in the case of Albin, painted) as white with a black tip: the tail of the King Vulture, in contrast, is black, a difference mentioned expressly by none other than John Cassin in what Snyder and Fry call his "endorsement" of Bartram's vulture as "a species [otherwise] entirely unknown."  

Albin's painting and description are the strongest eighteenth-century evidence for the existence of the Painted Vulture, but the authors are also able to adduce other support, painstakingly gathered from a range of sources and evaluated with admirable care. A 1758 Histoire de la Louisiane describes a "white eagle" closely reminiscent of Bartram's vulture. Bartram himself depicted a fan possibly made of such vulture feathers in a portrait he drew of the Creek warrior-king Mico Chlucco. More tenuous, but still suggestive, is the evidence provided by the bird-shaped handle of a prehistoric bowl from Alabama, showing "a clearly vulturine or raptorial beak shape together with a projection on the forehead that could be a representation of the fleshy lappets of a King or Painted Vulture." Both the fan and the bowl, along with Albin's painting, are reproduced in the present paper's figures. 

In the second part of their paper, Snyder and Fry convincingly refute the arguments against Bartram's reliability in describing his new vulture. They defend the Quaker explorer against the charge that he was writing from memory (his field notes are no longer extant, but they are referred to in his other writings), and point out that the sixty years between Bartram's visit to Florida and the next ornithological expedition to explore the area was, sadly, plenty of time for an already scarce species to approach extinction.

A number of ornithologists, starting with the influential Joel Asaph Allen, have suggested that Bartram's vulture was in fact a misidentified Northern Caracara. The authors rightly dismiss this far-fetched possibility:

That any beginning bird student might construct a description resembling Bartram's painted Vulture based on viewing a Caracara seems extremely doubtful. That Bartram might have done so seems beyond all credibility....    

There is no reason, the authors conclude, not to accord Bartram's description the same serious consideration granted other naturalists from the same period, and every reason to believe that that description refers to a hitherto unrecognized vulture from the southeastern United States, whether a pale-tailed form of the more widespread King Vulture or, in Snyder and Fry's view more likely, a distinct species Sarcoramphus sacer (and not McAtee's sacra, as the genus name is grammatically masculine). 

What happens next? The AOU Committee on Classification and Nomenclature acts on proposals submitted to the committee's Chair, publishing its determinations each July. None of us will ever witness a scene like that in Narca Moore-Craig's stunning painting of hunting Painted Vultures, but if two thirds of the AOU Committee is convinced by Snyder and Fry's arguments—and I believe they should be—we will see in our lifetime the true "de-extinction" of a wrongly dismissed species.    

#977, Purple Swamphen!

 

Breaking bird news! The Purple Swamphen (Porphyrio porphyrio) has been added to the ABA Checklist. This action by the ABA Checklist Committee raises to 977 the number of species on the Checklist.
(Right: This Purple Swamphen, presumably of the gray-headed taxon, was photographed by Bill Pranty at the Wakodahatchee Wetlands, Palm Beach County, Florida, November 2007.) 

Full details will appear later this year in Birding magazine and in the ABA’s new quarterly publication, A Birder’s Guide. Something I’m looking forward to in particular is a summary and overview by ABA Checklist Committee chairman Bill Pranty, to appear in the May/June 2013 Birding. Pranty’s article will summarize for ABA members the following:

• Current population estimates and geographic range for the ABA Area population of the swamphen.
• Taxonomy and identification. Intriguingly, multiple taxa—possibly representing multiple species—of swamphens may occur in the ABA Area.

In the meantime, I present to The ABA Blog community several topics for discussion. Some of these have the potential to elicit, hmm, divergent opinions. That’s great. Bring it on!

Here goes:

1. The swamphens have been around for a while. Would you count a swamphen you saw a few months ago? A year ago? Ten years ago?
2. Swamphens are on the move. If you saw one in Georgia or South Carolina—presumably derived from the Florida population—would you count it for your Georgia or South Carolina state list, respectively? 
3. As I noted above, multiple taxa appear to be present in Florida. Anybody out there making an effort to ID swamphens beyond the level of “Purple Swamphen”? If so, what are your experiences? Can you share any tips for field ID?
   (Right: This Purple Swamphen, possibly of one of the blue-headed taxa, was photographed by Bill Pranty at Pembroke PInes, Broward County, Florida, January 1999.) 
4. What’s up with all these exotics? Common Myna was added to the Checklist in 2008, then Rosy-faced Lovebird and Nanday Parakeet in 2012, and now Purple Swamphen.
5. Any thoughts as to what’s next? Nutmeg Mannikin or Orange Bishop, anybody? Rose-ringed Parakeet perhaps?

 

 

 

Listing Central: More than a Toplist

It's been a few days since the official launch of Listing Central, our 21st Century answer to the ABA's venerable Big Day and List Report, and the lists continue to populate as more and more members sign up, sign in, and submit.  The centerpiece of the site are undoubtedly the list of lists, but we'd love to draw your attention to some of the other attributes of Listing Central, advantages that we couldn't have accomplished before going fully digital.

Be sure to check out the Listing Central Forum, where you can weigh in on topics as diverse as the current state of bird taxonomy and the responsibilities of the ABA Recording Standards and Ethics Committee (i.e. the "Can I Count It?" discussion).  You can also get and share information from ABA members on how to find target birds in hotspots from Arizona to Atlantic Canada. 

 

Jen Brumfeld writes like she birds, to the limit.

 

And second, toggle over to Lister's Corner, a new ABA blog focusing on the efforts of Big Year and Big Day birders across the continent.  Think of this like the Big Day section of the old list report, except instead of waiting 12 months to read the results of a record-breaking day, you'll be able to see it more or less immediately.  Plus, birders tackling Big Years in 2013 (and some from 2012) will be posting on their progress periodically.  For instance, right now you can go read about THE Jen Brumfeld's experience crushing the Cuyahoga County, Ohio, Big Year record in 2012.  It'll change the way you think about birding urban counties. 

On that front, if you are a birder doing a Big Year or attempting to break a Big Day record in 2013, be it ABA-Area or your local patch, WE WANT TO KNOW ABOUT IT!  Please get in touch with us at listing AT aba.org.  If you're willing to write regular updates on your progress, we'd love to include your voice on our blog. 

We all all about promoting the fun of birding at the ABA, and we want to do everything we can to spread that fun around.  So come check out the rest of Listing Central when you're finished sending us your numbers. 

The ABA presents Listing Central!

LISTING.ABA.ORG

In the last couple years, the ABA has been making changes in the way we present our traditional offerings, the annual Big Day & List Report among them.  Today we’re really excited to announce Listing Central, which will continue the legacy of the Big Day & List Report as well as hugely expanding its capabilities and capacity.

Everything that you’ve come to expect from the Big Day & List Report in the past, from Big Day narratives to rankings for every region in which ABA members have historically kept lists, is still available - you can even print them out if you prefer to read them offline.  But Listing Central is so so much more, and it’s these new offerings that we’re most excited to share with ABA birders.

First, the thresholds are gone.  Haven’t cracked 500 in the ABA-Area yet?  Or turned up the minimum in your state or province?  Doesn’t matter, we want your numbers anyway.  

Second, in addition to all the traditional categories the ABA has always kept track of, you can now enter your numbers for every single county in every American state and every Canadian province.  County listing is big and growing, and we want to be there to help you keep track of it all.  

For Big Day birders, we also added the ability to define your own big day areas, so go ahead and submit big days for your state, region, city park ... however you choose to define your big day.

And last, you’ll be able to edit your numbers ANY TIME YOU LIKE, and the system is designed to make that as easy as possible to do so. No more waiting for the annual report.  If you finished your Big Year and want to know how to stacked up, that information should be right at your fingertips.  

Getting started is easy. We need to confirm who you are, and then you can choose a username and password. The user name isn’t displayed anywhere. It’s just the name you log in with.  You can choose to use the same username and password as you may have for membership renewals, or member-only content.

Once that’s set, you simply log in, and start entering you list totals. Each member has a profile page, with all of the list totals they’ve submitted in one place. Think of it like the back of a baseball card.

There are simple instructions on the page to help you get started. Once you’ve entered your numbers, check out the Listing Blog and Forum. Lot’s of good discussion and a great place to get help finding target birds, discuss the latest checklist changes ... or whatever is on your mind.

We’re really excited about this new initiative, and we hope you are too.  Listing has been described as the roots, the core, of the ABA.  And maybe it still is, even though the organization itself is much more.  Mostly we just like to think of it as a way people enjoy birds, and more than anything, that’s what we want to help you do.

We realize this is a big change, and we want to make this transition as easy as possible for birders interested in sharing their numbers.  If you have any questions, comments, or critiques, our Listing Central moderator, Greg Neise, is available at listing AT aba.org to hear and help.  You can also call our offices at (800) 850-2473 or (719) 578-9703.

So come check out the new Listing Central.  And keep us posted on your latest tick. 

LISTING.ABA.ORG

Open Mic: More Than Just a Number

At the Mic: Tom Leskiw

Tom Leskiw lives outside Eureka, California with his wife Sue and their dog Zevon. He retired in 2009 following a 31-year career as a hydrologic/biologic technician. His essays, book and movie reviews have appeared in a variety of  journals. His column appears at www.RRAS.org and his website resides at www.tomleskiw.com

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Saturday, 15 January 2011. 9:15 am. Estero Llano Grande State Park, World Birding Center, Weslaco Texas. Sue and I once again worked the area where the White-throated Thrush had been seen yesterday. A light rain was falling, as were my hopes for relocating this notorious skulker. Rain jacket and pants seemed a bit overkill for this semi-tropical woodland, but experience had taught me that long hours in damp clothes, well…they dampen one’s spirits. And I was determined to get this bird, even if I had to continue my vigil until darkness fell. I snuck a glance at another birder who was working the far corner of the open area, when a birder wearing flip-flops and track shorts burst into the clearing. “I’ve got the bird!!” he whisper-shouted.

We raced to follow him down the narrow gravel lane that bounded the preserve. A man and woman stood there—not celebrating, but, rather, looking sheepish, nonplussed. Then, came perhaps the most-dreaded phrase in a birder’s lexicon. “It just flew,” they stammered. “Somewhere off to the left.” “How far?” Flip-Flops wanted to know. “Did you see it fly across the lane?” “I don’t know. We lost it,” was the reply. So, we started scanning for the bird, searching high and low in the dense, shadowed woodland. After some time passed, I figured it would be best to not have all eyes looking in the same general area, so I made my way slowly back down the lane. “There it is!” said someone. I moved back to where the throng of birders had assembled. There, wet and sodden, was my life White-throated Thrush. Flip-Flops—sorry, I’ve forgotten your name—smiled broadly, winked at me, and spoke. “And just like that!” And just like that, indeed, I said to myself. Then, aloud: “My 700^th bird for the Lower-48 states!”

     The birding bug bit me in 1983. At the time I was a landscape photographer who spent a portion of the winter in desert locations that included Arizona’s Organ Pipe National Monument. Before I knew it, I’d purchased a 300mm lens so I could photograph the birds that frequented saguaro “cactus condos.” However, upon my return to California, I didn’t know any birders, and trying to see birds in the low-light, dense confines of redwood forests never caught my fancy. Thus, my interest lay fallow for a time.  

    Then, in 1987, I read that Gary Lester was leading a field trip to Elk Head to look for Tufted Puffins. I had entered the wrong date in my day planner and missed the trip. However, Gary returned to Elk Head with me the following day, my first inkling into the generosity and sense of sharing within the birding community. Later that spring, I took his bird field seminar that was offered through Redwood National Park. Gary, Lauren and their family lived several blocks from me, so the next several years were frequently punctuated with his impromptu phone calls. “There’s a male Costa’s Hummingbird on our fuchsia.”… “Black Swifts are passing over the house again.”… “I’m looking at a Cape May Warbler in our birch tree right now.”

    Following an Audubon Christmas Bird Count (circa 1990), I asked John Sterling and John Hunter if I could tag along to chase some local rarities. A year or so went by, and I began to dream about reaching 300 bird species in Humboldt County. Somewhere along the line, I began to envision that 700 species in the ABA area might be attainable. Later, I began to ponder if it might be possible to reach 700 in the ABA area without going to Alaska. I have absolutely nothing against Alaska, somehow, it just never seemed in the cards to get there.

     But I’m getting ahead of myself. Throughout this sometimes crazy, (nearly) quarter-century quest, I’ve tried to focus on the experience itself, on the goal of learning—as intimately as possible—about this great country of ours. I saw only one of my ABA area birds in Canada and I’ve still yet to make it to Alaska. It’s difficult to put into words, but my reason for steering clear of the “Land of the Midnight Sun” had something to do with loyalty. Because Alaska’s union with these “united” states is merely a political fluke (Attu being situated west of the east tip of Siberia), tallying the birds there seems somehow unfair, contrived. Furthermore, limiting my search to the Lower 48 allowed me to focus on the amazing biodiversity to be found here.

    I’m reminded of lyrics from Dave Mason’s “Can't Stop Worrying, Can't Stop Loving”:   “A man needs the challenge or a man couldn’t be.” Not a few times during this past decade, I reconsidered the wisdom of excluding Alaska from my census area. Maybe it can’t be done, I’d concede. At least not unless I drop everything and do a Big Year, which wouldn’t exactly “Play in Peoria,” if you know what I mean. 

    It’s only human nature to dwell on the one that got away. In this case, the one that eluded me wasn’t a bird, but, rather, a boy—a potential birding convert. I was in Texas’s Big Bend National Park, retracing my steps along the Window Trail, jubilant and basking in the glow of having found my life Lucifer Hummingbird. A group of boys caught up with me. Elated, they recounted the incredible view from the Window and how they’d just witnessed a snake swallowing a frog. One of them pointed to my bins and asked me why I’d traveled to the canyon. I explained that I’d come in search of a hummingbird, as the area—at least at the time—was the most-dependable place in all the U.S. to see it.

     As some of the other boys began to sidle off, the inquisitive one asked what the hummingbird looked like. Quickly, I sized up their group. Red-faced and sweating, they clutched their empty (pint!) water bottles. Clearly, the rest of the group wanted to beat the heat, get back to camp. I considered just how difficult it can be to get someone onto a hummingbird and how easy it might be to turn a group of tired, hot boys against birding. Just then, their leaders appeared. “Let’s hit it, guys,” they said. If only there’d been a little more time… maybe I could have gotten the kid onto the Lucifer.

    It goes without saying, but I’ll say it anyway. I’ve shared this journey with many good friends, birding acquaintances, and guides across the country. I never would have realized this goal without your help. There isn’t room here to mention you all, but know that you have my thanks.

     As I studied the Texas Rare Bird Alerts this winter, I realized that I lacked a bird-finding  guide for the Lone Star State. So, I contacted my birding compadre, Erika Wilson, who agreed to lend me her brand-new copy of the ABA guide for the Lower Rio Grande Valley. Paper-clipped to the guide was a note: “Have a great trip! Keep me posted on all your bird finding as you go.”

     In 1992, an event occurred that prompted me to resume writing after a lengthy sabbatical. Doc Harris, the dean of Humboldt County, California birding was poised to record his 400^th species for the county, the first to accomplish what was then regarded as an improbable feat. So, I chronicled the occasion in the Sandpiper, our local Audubon newsletter, starting contributions to this and other venues that continue to this day. My writing has improved during the intervening years. I’ve tackled many subjects, but birds, birding, and bird chases remain at the core of what inspires me to write. It struck me that Erika’s note applied, not only to the Texas trip, but also to my writing in general: recording my experiences in the field—for me, and to share with others.   

    Looking back, I think of all the out-of-the-way hamlets, urban parks, wildlife refuges, fish hatcheries, sewage treatment plants, sod farms, migrant traps, people, islands, and oceans I would never have experienced, were it not for birds. The images emerge, fade, and are renewed in my cerebral cortex’s own PowerPoint projector: Black and Brown Noddies, Masked Booby, Sooty Tern, and Magnificent Frigatebird soaring above the azure waters of the Dry Tortugas. And later, a Swallow-tailed Kite and Stripe-headed Tanager with Wes Biggs. A Thick-billed Murre in Humboldt Bay—thanks to a timely call from David Fix. Machias Seal Island for Atlantic Puffin and Razorbill followed by the Bluenose Ferry to Nova Scotia for Great Skua and Wilson’s Storm-Petrels with Brian Patteson and Ned Brinkley.

    And solo, a long night trying to sleep upright in a Jeep Cherokee near the Lesser Prairie-Chicken lek near Campo, Colorado. Ferruginous Pygmy-Owl with Jeff Gordon in the oak mottes of the King Ranch. Slaty-backed Gull, courtesy of Rob Fowler and Matt Wachs. Running alongside Guy McCaskie after hearing the shout that the Fork-tailed Flycatcher had been relocated. White-tailed Ptarmigan—and Grizz!—at Logan Pass in Glacier National Park with Jude Power. Green Kingfisher along the San Pedro River and Montezuma Quail and Five-striped Sparrow in Sawmill and Sycamore Canyons, with Troy Corman.

     The adrenal rush of confirming a beyond-improbable, second-hand report of a White-winged Tern at the Arcata Marsh one sunny Saturday morning. Island Scrub-Jay on Santa Cruz Island with John Sterling and the rest of the merry band of “Vagrants.” Great Gray Owl in a Yosemite red fir forest with John Hunter. Streak-backed Oriole near Tacna, Arizona with Erika Wilson and Elaine Emeigh. Craveri’s Murrelet and Baird’s beaked whale with Debi Shearwater. No one could forget the olfactory affront of the Brownsville Dump for Tamaulipas Crow with Joseph Brooks and Garry George. And a two-fer, the day before #700: a Crimson-collared Grosbeak amid the restored splendor of Allen Williams’s backyard in Pharr and the clockwork-like 4:45 pm appearance of the Black-Vented Oriole at the Bentsen Palm Village RV Resort.

    Each phone call, every set of directions I obtained from folks I might never meet face-to-face reinforced my belief that I’d joined a continent-wide community. Some of the fond memories center around birding comrades who are no longer with us. Running into Stuart Keith and Arnold Small while searching for the Crescent-chested Warbler at the Patagonia sewage treatment plant. Chasing the Lesser Sand-Plover with Luke Cole while attending a meeting of the Western Field Ornithologists in Humboldt County. The pilgrimage to Scheelite Canyon on Fort Huachuca for Mexican Spotted Owl with Smitty (Robert T. Smith). Swapping stories with Northcoast Environmental Center’s executive director Tim McKay at a Del Norte CBC compilation.

     Yes, 700 stories and more. All tangible, memorable, genuine. No tepid, pixilated, ersatz excuses for real encounters in real places. If the legions of those mesmerized by Wii and Xboxes only knew…