Santa Cla's Christmas Bird Count

Red crossbill, Loxia curvirostra.

Today I was offered a ride to the Santa Clarita CBC, and I could not refuse! Even though the chances of seeing anything great was minimal, I was determined to enjoy it nonetheless!

I started off my enjoyment of the day by leaving my camera at home! I put my camera down on the dark countertop amidst the darkness of 5am while sorting through my bag, and, given the camera was also black, is how it ended up being left behind. A disaster, but at least Dan had his camera! As much as I like birding without the hefty lens I may have occasionally used it. So much for proving that I wasn't obsessed with the device.

The day started near Dry Gulch road, where we heard and saw red crossbills. While I was out of a camera (sort of) I did have my phone on hand. The crossbills were hard to hear through traffic and wind at times, but I was able to produce a clear enough sonogram to determine they were the western hemlock type, or 'type 3'. This is my first sighting of the bird in North America, where several different "types" are recognized. These types are only reliably distinguished by the shape of the sonogram. For type 3 the call sonogram is a sort of fuzzy zigzag.

Rough sonogram of type 3 crossbills.

Along a few unsuccessful stops for Bell's sparrow I picked up a few new plants, although all very common species in the drier, more rural parts of desert California: brittlebush, California broomsage, California matchweed, and Davidson's buckwheat. We scoured several dark-eyed junco flocks closer to town and in the abundant Oregon-type juncos we picked out a grey-headed junco. While it wasn't a new species for me was a form of dark-eyed junco I had not previously encountered. This grey-headed form is not as much grey-headed as it is almost entirely grey, but regardless it is very uncommon in California and a pleasing bird to look at. A possible pink-sided junco, another uncommon subspecies in the state was also seen, but not confirmed.

Dark-eyed junco, the grey-headed subspecies, Junco hyemalis ssp. caniceps.

We later stopped by Castaic Lagoon where we found a fourth dark-eyed junco subspecies, the slate-coloured junco! I have seen this in Canada before but it was my first sighting in the states. A surprise though was a large falcon overhead, which could only have been prairie falcon! This bird was at least peregrine sized, and I later learned that prairie falcons are much bigger than I had taken them for in the field guides. Even though the camera was off I was just quick enough to grab one shot before it was obscured entirely by trees. Whew! Close call. I'm sure I'll see another one someday anyhow.

Prairie falcon, Falco mexicanus.

We headed back into town and were treated to golden eagle soaring high overhead, only my second sighting of this species and arguably my best encounter! If only I had my telephoto lens, though! Ah well, another time.

At Lake Casitas we had a frustrating encounter with a rather short-tailed brown bird in reeds, which was probably the continuing LeConte's sparrow, a real rarity in these parts and a difficult bird to see. This rare bird was first documented a while ago by other birders, but it had been a few days since it was last reported. Luckily I have seen two in Florida before during a mist net operation, but still a shame that we could not confirm it here!

This lake side habitat was unfortunately too dry for any interesting plant life, although I did see some western marsh cudweed. Truly a fascinating trip full of surprises...

Paramount Ranch Ramblings

Lark sparrow, Chondestes grammacus.

I had a quick chance to look over Paramount Ranch today. The idea was to check for a certain nocturnal snake that had been, for at least a while, quite reliable at a certain area of the site. Although I did not find it I was able to scavenge some other interesting species.

The real highlight though must have been seeing an incredibly confiding canyon wren. I first heard this bird calling under the wooden bridge adjacent to the old town, where I eventually saw it foraging in the rocky ditch. At one point it entered a ground squirrel burrow. I quickly moved over and with the camera ready, the bird soon emerged. What followed was the most memorable experience I've ever had of this bird. Incredible.

Canyon wren, Catherpes mexicanus.

Canyon wren, Catherpes mexicanus.

With a few good photos I backed away slowly. At first it was confiding but after a while I think it was starting to get a bit agitated. As a photographer the last thing you want to do is disturb the subject. It is not good practice.

I turned up a few rocks here and there and found a decent number of tule beetles, as well as something less expected, a female western brush cricket. Along the Coyote Canyon trail I found what looks to be Acarospora badiofusca, a reasonably common lichen that I have not had much confidence in claiming before. On a similar note I recorded my first confident sighting of poplar sunburst lichen, Xanthomendoza hasseana, as well, growing on a Siberian elm. The tree has possibly dubious origins in that it may be planted directly by human hands, but it seemed reasonable to me.

Tule beetle, Tanystoma maculicolle.

Western brush cricket, Hoplosphyrum boreale.

The lichen Acarospora badiofusca.

Poplar sunburst lichen, Xanthomendoza hasseana, growing on Siberian elm,
Ulmus pumila.

A small foray into shady riparian turned up several whitefly pupae on coffeeberry plants. I've been informed by experts that these are a match for Aleuroparadoxus iridescens, a species that is probably not too common but one that has until now never been photographed alive. I cannot find a description of what the adults look like, but knowing whiteflies, they are probably little white insects. Something about the name makes me wish there were dark grey or even black whiteflies around. That could be a very elegant look! Maybe somewhere in the tropics such a creature exists...

Aleuroparadoxus iridescens, on coffeeberry, Frangula californica.

On a less related note, has anyone ever seen these bright red leaves form on stork's bill (Erodium spp.) before? Every now and then I find a population showing it during late winter or early spring.

Common stork's-bill, or dark-stemmed filaree if you are
American, Erodium cicutarium.

Fungus Foray

Orange peel fungus, Aleura aurantia.

When you ask many people whether they are interested in a fungus foray, they'll probably say a solid "no!". That is if you even get that far in the conversation before the bloke listening leaves and regrets ever making friends with you. Certainly the term "fungus foray" does not draw the most spectacular imagery. But why not? If I've learned anything about fungi it is that there is an extraordinary rainbow of dazzling mushrooms, lichens, and other splendid and delicate species, some living in our very backyards. "Fungus foray" should not always conjure images of horrible slime, moulds, and poisonous mushrooms being boiled in a witch's cauldron. If that is what you are thinking, read on. When a subject area has species with names like "fairy fingers" and "plums-and-custard", how can you be possibly be disappointed!?

Plums-and-custard, Tricholomopsis rutilans.

This trip was coordinated by the Hampshire Fungus Recording Group, a little organization that I regret not having discovered earlier. Fungi are a subject that I have yet to properly delve into, although I've photographed some before. So what better than to spend a chilly November morning, during the peak of mushroom season, in the pleasantries of Exbury Garden, right in the heart of the New Forest?

Fungi are the bane of photographers like me, especially those who seek to label species based on photos they've taken in the field! That's because most identification characteristics are microscopic, require chemical tests, habitat analysis, or necessitate smelling or tasting parts of the mushroom. None of these critical details show up in photographs, which makes them far trickier to identify than plants, birds, or even insects. So what better than to tag along with some experts who can do all the ID work for you, and correctly nonetheless!?

The day started off ripe with several quick identifications, ranging from common cavalier and clouded agaric to gems such as parrot mushroom, meadow coral, and the wonderfully pink lilac bonnet. In less than 10 minutes I had already gathered a handful of interesting species, and that was only the start. That isn't to ignore the lovely specimen of poplar bells (Schizophyllum amplum), which a bloke brought in from somewhere east to share with the group. This is a rare fungus in the UK and this was probably the first ever record from the place he found it at!

Yes, of course I'm counting it! It is no different to ticking a moth in someone's fridge. Don't be so judgmental.

Parrot mushroom, Gliophorus psittacinus. Some were
much greener.

Meadow coral, Clavulinopsis corniculata.

Lilac bonnet, Mycena pura.

Poplar bells, Schizophyllum amplum.

Some of the most splendid species were the waxcaps, a large genus of mushrooms that feature almost every colour imaginable. Luckily we had someone on hand with a special key to sort these tricky species out. The key itself was entertaining, narrowing down 10 identical red species to 4 or 6 based on how rough the cap was, and then further on traits ranging from gill pattern to stem (stipe) details. Fascinating stuff. Most importantly this was the only time I could ever count on having definitive IDs on this difficult genus! In a small area we documented 2 red species, crimson waxcap (Hygrocybe punicea) and scarlet waxcap (H. coccinea), along with the yellow spangle waxcap (H. insipida) and glutinous waxcap (H. glutinipes), followed by the glorious orange of field waxcap (H. pratensis) and orange waxcap (H. aurantiosplendens), and then finally accompanied by two outliers, the pure white of cedarwood waxcap (H. russocoriacea) and the dark orange of blackening waxcap (H. conica). What an incredible haul from a small area of the garden property!

Scarlet waxcap, H. coccinea.

Spangle waxcap, H. insipida.

Glutinous waxcap, H. glutinipes.

Meadow waxcap, H. pratensis.

In another half an hour I had doubled my fungi count. One of the most fascinating species was this tiny colony of equally tiny mushrooms, Mycena polyadelpha. This was joined by several other notable species, such as panthercap (Amanita pantherina), common rustgill (Gymnopilus penetrans), and even the infamous death cap (Amanita phalloides).

Mycena polyadelpha.

Panthercap, Amanita pantherina.

Death cap, Amanita phalloides.

Common rustgill, Gymnopilus penetrans.

On the lawns we found several earth tongues, black or nearly black fungi that form paddle-shaped stems without caps. At first we thought there were only 2 species, Macroglossum cookeanum and the rarer greenish species Macroglossum viride, but later lab tests showed there were 3. The third species I did not photograph or notice in the field. Luckily I think the third species was the most common of the 3. These are very difficult to identify without lab testing so it was a special occasion to have the chance to photograph and label these intriguing formations. On the topic of intriguing formations, some of the most gripping species were those like cauliflower fungus, and some interesting tree-adapted species that formed great waves on the branches, such as confluent radulomyces.

Macroglossum cookeanum.

Green earth-tongue, Macroglossum viride. The green
lower stem is invisible unless dug out of the ground.

Cauliflower fungus, Sparassis crispa.

Radulomyces confluens.

The day was continually perpetuated with other fun species from the pinecone specialist Mycena seynesii, a wonderfully named spiny-undersided species called toothpick fungus, to Hampshire's first ever record of the parasitic piggyback rosegill, Volvariella surrecta, a parasite that grows on larger fungi, in this case clouded agaric.

Mycena seynesii, a mushroom growing only on fallen pine cones!

Piggyback rosegill, Volvariella surrecta, growing on the flattened
brownish caps of clouded agaric.

The underside of earpick fungus, Auriscalpium vulgare, another pine cone
species.

How about the scarlet caterpillar club though? This fungi entirely specializes on growing within moth caterpillars. The coolest thing about it? Every one you dig up reveals a dead caterpillar or pupa. A real marvel of nature. I cannot possibly imagine how it goes about finding the caterpillars.

Scarlet caterpillar club, Cordyceps militaris, with deceased caterpillar
lower right.

The light was fading and we had only covered about a half of the garden property. It was a shame to leave such a large portion of the wilderness undiscovered, so to speak, but what an amazing outing it was. In total I had amassed 73 new species, which may be highest ever, at least until I visit somewhere more tropical for the first time. Are fungi forays always this exciting? I must attend some more in future.