Gone Birdin'

February 19, 2021

I was able to get out of Dodge earlier this week and drove east to Joshua Tree National Park, a tranquil patch of land hosting a plethora of birds by day and starry skies by night. As the name implies, the park is filled with a forest of Joshua trees; some skinny and tall, others dense and short. I’m overcome with a feeling of humility thinking about the Joshua trees standing quietly day after day, oblivious to worldly things like taxes, bills, and car insurance. 

The western portion of Joshua Tree National Park is part of the Mojave Desert, while the eastern and southern areas are considered the Colorado Desert (a subsection of the Sonoran Desert). Driving through the park, it’s apparent when you’ve crossed over into the Colorado Desert because the Mojave Desert’s thousands of Joshua trees are replaced by wonderfully fragrant creosote bushes. It’s almost like an invisible line was drawn in the dirt, at which point the vegetation completely shifts. Like a lot of other living things, Joshua trees thrive at a specific elevation, so the invisible line is actually just an elevation gradient.  

My sister and I camped at Black Rock Campground near the western edge of the park. I was in heaven waking up to birds hopping from tree to tree in the morning, but like clockwork there were hardly any in sight by 10 am. If that’s not motivation to wake up with the sun (and the birds), I don’t know what is.  

Thrashers in the genus Toxostoma (also referred to as typical thrashers) are unmistakable thanks to their long, curved bills. There are several species of this genus in North America, all sporting the iconic bill, but California Thrashers are found almost exclusively in California. They forage primarily on the ground, as seen in the photograph above.

White-crowned Sparrows are another species that forages predominantly on the ground, oftentimes in groups. Identifying immature White-crowned Sparrows has tripped me up in the past because they lack the black-and-white crown and instead have brown stripes. Many other sparrow species have similar markings, so things can get confusing. I’ve started using their yellow-orange beaks as an identification tool because they have this characteristic regardless of age. 

Until relatively recently, three species of Scrub-Jays were recognized by the American Ornithologists’ Union: Island Scrub-Jays (found on Santa Cruz Island), Florida Scrub-Jays (found in Florida), and Western Scrub-Jays (found everywhere else). In July 2016, the Western Scrub-Jay was split into two species: California Scrub-Jays and Woodhouse’s Scrub-Jays. They look similar, but a few notable differences help differentiate the two. Woodhouse’s Scrub-Jays are a bit more muted in color and lack the bold contrasts seen in California Scrub-Jays. Range is also a helpful identification tool; California Scrub-Jays are found mostly along the West Coast, while Woodhouse’s Scrub-Jays reside throughout the interior of western North America.  

On our second day camping, I woke up to the sound of a woodpecker knocking on the stalk of a nearby Joshua tree. I unzipped the tent, grabbed my camera, and was able to capture a few photographs of a Ladder-backed Woodpecker. The similar-looking Nuttall’s Woodpecker has a red crown beginning further back on its head and dorsal markings that don’t reach its neck like the Ladder-backed Woodpecker’s.

All I have to say about Cactus Wrens is… Arizona state bird, baby! Represent!

The photograph above is by no means the best I’ve ever taken, but I was excited to see this bird and wanted to include it anyway. Horned Larks have a beautiful facial pattern and although not displayed in the photo, the “horns” on the sides of males’ heads in spring are really interesting looking. My sister and I drove down a long, isolated dirt road for the better half of an hour and didn’t see a single bird the entire time. Out of nowhere and right before we were about to head back to camp, a flock of about 40 birds flew up from the ground in unison and landed, scattered across an expansive stretch of dried grass. I stopped the car and got out as fast as safely possible. They were Horned Larks! I tip-toed closer to the flock in hopes of spotting one close enough to photograph. As I took one more step, the entire flock flew up and landed again, this time 30 feet further. This happened a couple more times (I’d get 10 feet closer, they’d fly 30 feet further), so eventually, I figured I should leave them to their business.  

Desert birds are without a doubt some of my favorites and I am deeply drawn to the peace and quiet the desert offers. There is something powerful about complete silence, the only sound being dirt crunching beneath your boots. You can take the girl out of Arizona, but you can’t take the Arizona out of the girl 😉.

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