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June 29, 2006  Rara Aves Look at the words in that title! I discovered them while paging through my dictionary searching for words that didn't begin with 'R.' I surf the dictionary much as some others might surf the net. Rara avis is the singular form of the plural expression. It means someone or something extraordinary - the literal translation is "a rare bird." My first thought was "What a great expression to save for an exotic sighting!" Then, on further reflection, I realized that I would probably forget the expression before having a chance to use it in describing a remarkable bird event. So, I decided to go ahead and use it anyway. Why put it in storage like fine china and just bring it out for some unspecified occasion way down the road? With this in mind I've decided to shine the light on two moderate Rara Aves that add spice to my recent downtown birding outings. The first, a male White-winged Scoter, appeared several weeks ago on the 100 mile Marsh. It is not unusual to see White-winged Scoters passing through early in spring, often in the company of Surf Scoters and Long-tailed Ducks, but summer Scoters are not common. The last one I recall was a male Surf Scoter that spent the summer on Ruth Lake during 1995. A White-winged Scoter is a large duck. It weighs on average about 3.5 pounds; compare this to a typical Mallard weighing in at 2 pounds. The body of the White-winged Scoter is stout. The overall colour is brown, and the white wings are not often visible. The beak is peculiarly shaped with a pinkish hue and the legs are a rich coral pink. Perhaps the oddest markings on this chunky, rotund Duck are those around its eyes. Little patches like white teardrops circle each eye. The pointy part of the teardrop shape sweep upward and make it look as though the bird is wearing very tiny swimming goggles. When I first laid eyes on this particular White-winged Scoter I took the time to study it believing that it would soon move onwards, but it did not. I first recorded the Scoter June 8th and have since stopped to watch it on many occasions, but alas, today when I went to see it - it was gone. The second interesting bird event or Rara Aves, is that a perhaps confused Pacific-slope Flycatcher has decided that 100 Mile House might make an interesting summer home. On a hot June 19th afternoon I heard a somewhat unfamiliar call at the corner of Dogwood and Cedar Avenues and immediately knew that the call signified a strange bird. I crossed Dogwood Avenue to investigate and it became obvious that I would have to enter someone's back yard to continue my pursuit. So I went into a small business and asked their permission. That done I wandered behind the building. As birds will, this one flew to the next yard. I returned to the street and followed until I found myself standing in front of a private home attempting to look discreetly over their rooftop. I hadn't yet used binoculars but I was holding mine in an obvious position to inform anyone watching that my intentions were honourable. I was making no secret about being armed with binoculars. Again the bird moved, and again I moved. This time returning to the back yard of the business. The bird stopped suddenly in the open and its identity popped into my mind. It was a Pacific-slope Flycatcher. I just had to have one good look at it with binoculars so I dared to stop and stare before quickly retreating. Though we are blessed with many Flycatchers around 100 Mile House, the Pacific Slope isn't one. They can be found anytime during nesting season out toward the Fraser River in the dry sage and ponderosa pine country where their calls, breathy whistles, give them away as they perch, often in plain sight, in typical Flycatcher fashion. Without the call to aid in identification, the Pacific-slope along with other members of the Empidonax flycatcher complex remains maddeningly anonymous. Had this particular bird not called I would never have known it was near. Because it did call and might have been identified by me in a more typical location, suggests how out of place it was here in the treed back gardens of town. The day after first hearing the Pacific-slope, I had occasion to be in the same area again and was surprised to hear it again call from the same location. This time it uttered its full song which goes something like this "psswit&piht&seeep." Sometimes the Pacific-slope will intersperse a fourth sound, a whistled 'see-a-weet'. I first sighted the bird 10 days ago. As of this morning the Pacific-slope Flycatcher is still located at Dogwood and Cedar. Again, as with the White-winged Scoter, I will record how long it remains. Such information is not really indicative of anything in particular, but rather is an indication of how long a moderate rara avis blessed us with its presence and by accepting our modified landscape, accepting what we have done to their world. To e-mail Tom CLICK HERE To look at previous column "CLICK HERE |
