Wednesday, 20 February 2008

How To Be A Quite Good Bird Photographer: Part 1

One of the side effects of participating in the Nature Blog Network is that one is tempted to get more competitive about blogging.
My blog's current ranking is a low down 71 but if we only look at the blogs that matter - those about birds - I'm on 30th place with 26.6 average readers.
Just for the record: I don't think my readers are average, but if Nature Blog Network tells me so, there's not much I can do.
The leading bird blog is 10,000 birds (no surprise there, really) with 881.2 readers.

All I need to do to take the lead therefore is recruit 855 more readers a day and tell those 0.6 readers to either grow up or at least take a few buddies along.

That doesn't sound impossible at all - I thought - if only I had a small idea that was so great and unique or even - gasp - useful that it would draw said extra readers to my blog.
And then it occured to me:

I am going to do an occasional series on bird photography!

I think this is a great idea and I am so incredibly surprised that I am apparently the first one ever to come up with such a concept, seriously!
Well, some may say they've seen this before somewhere in the bloggosphere and that they know a certain someone who's done part 1 and 2 of a similarly named series, but I tell you this is nothing more than pure coincidence and who'd you rather believe: a loving father or someone who occasionally even associates with people who are unkind to kittens?

Anyhow, here is my little post on bird photography:


Capturing The Black Birds' Black Eye

One of the most important features that may turn a booming bird pic into a big bust is the bird's eye. It is actually so central to the picture's quality that it should be the prime target area for your auto focus, but even if the eye is crisp and sharp, it may still ruin your shot!

Nasty.

Why? Very simple: most bird's eyes are either black or appear black at a distance. Some birders might surely be fond of Venice's Carnival and take an eye that's a lifeless black hole as art, but most will surely want the birds on their pictures to burst with life, and this is mostly achieved by a simple yet vital effect of sunlight being reflected off the bird's eye!
The importance of this tiny effect is best shown by the following series of pictures. The series further shows that it is this particular effect that makes the photography of black birds such a challenge as a missing sparkle will not only make the eye seem lifeless, it will make the eye (seemingly) disappear altogether!


This is how we like to see our little darling Red-winged
"the voice"
Blackbird on a photo: jet-black plumage, red
wing coverts all fluffed
up and a sparkling eye reflecting
the sun.



Just a little twist of the head however would turn this into
a nasty
twist of fate if it were our only picture of the bird:
all it takes is a little shadow on the eye
and a featureless
black form is all that remains of the bird. A big nothing,
no picture but just a mass of I's and O's to give our delete
button something to do.



But this post would still be pointless if all I wrote about was a bit of light on the eyeball of a bird. Nope, that's not all, there's something else:

The bird's nictitating membrane.
Even if wikipedia might tell you otherwise, the nictitating membrane is a special device birds use exclusively to make life hard on us photographing birders by turning their lovely vivid eyes not only seemingly dead as the missing light reflection does.

The nic'mem's pale veiling effect is that of the living dead!

The maliciously sneaky part of this device is its speedy application: we don't notice the nic'mem's closing during our photographing the bird and it is only back at home that we find all our presumed excellent pictures worthless. Had we only noticed out in the field, we could have taken a few extra pictures to overcome the bird's wits, but the bird eye's speed was beyond us and yet again, we lose.

This problem used to be frustrating during the times of analog photography when each picture meant money, but with the onset of the digital age, there's a simple way to avoid it:

Wait for the eye to sparkle and then fire away merrily!

Problem solved.

So unless you want to supply evidence of the continued survival of Terror Birds to Cryptomundo, a few extra shots and a double-check on your pic that the bird's nic'mem' is drawn back might be of help. The next picture shows the very same blackbird, with a deathly beamless zombie's eye courtesy of its nic'mem':


Darkness falls across the land
The midnight hour is close at hand
Blackbirds soar in search of blood
To terrorize your neighbourhood

And whosoever shall be found
Without the soul for getting down
Must stand and face the birds of hell
And rot inside a corpse's shell



.

Monday, 18 February 2008

State of the Blog

With the frequency of new posts having dropped to roughly one each month, I have now realized it was time for a few reflections regarding the State of the Blog.

So, here goes,

Ladies and Gentlemen,
the State of the Blog, as for now, is difficult to assess. Until September 2007, it was easily defined as "Michigan", but with the general management shifting its headquarters over the Atlantic, it has gotten impossible as Germany does not have "states" in a stricter sense but calls its smaller geographical entities "Bundesländer". Therefore, it is with great pleasure that I announce that the Bundesland of the Blog is Mecklenburg- Western Pomerania.


Oh, groan and moan, that was shallow.

Yes, I know...

But then again, witty blogging has always been scarce here and in between diaper duty, helping with houshold things and trying to keep my back clear of my bosses' whip, humour is difficult to muster, time for birding / bird-blogging even more so.

However, a very good friend of mine once said that if I was to go down eventually, it shall be with a bang, not a whimper, and the same philosophy applies to my blogging.
That's good news as I don't like loud noise [Iron Maiden is not even remotely connected to noise, just to make that point very clear], so the blog's bound to be continued, and I have a few blog posts in the back of my mind that I plan to finish in the next few days.

Getting back to those reflections I mentioned in my introduction, the question arises if this really is good news, though...

Heck, this is still a bird blog, and even if I didn't manage a decent bird post this time, uploading a bird image is the Least I can do...

Wednesday, 30 January 2008

Why I am happy about NOT being a UK birder

The UK and birding are quite a unique couple. The two of them are actually so dear and near to each other that single observers have apparently managed to see more than 500 species there, quite amazing considering the complete German list "only" stands at 514 species, some of which haven't been seen since the 19th or early 20th century.
Because of this and the fact that many of these species are exciting and excessively rare vagrants from Siberia or - mostly - North America, many other European birdwatching nations look up to the UK in envy.

Not me though.

I mean, I sort of used to, but the White-crowned Sparrow that was recently (is still being?) seen in Norfolk changed that for good.
I regularly check the Britain & Ireland rarities gallery on Surfbirds and the last few days were severely dominated by nice pictures of said White-crowned Sparrow.
First I also thought that this was a neat record and how much I wanted to also find such a rare bird on my home patch. But then I thought of the nice pictures I took of the ever so common White-crowned Sparrows at Rondeau and Point Pelee in southern Canada and of the great days I had while taking them.
Here they are, a few of them, and they are quite similar to the ones of the bird that made a Norfolk driveway its home...



And then I suddenly couldn't help but think how sad it would have been to see the beautiful White-crowned Sparrows at Point Pelee and to not have that fantastic lifer feeling because of a bird I saw at some soggy driveway on the Eastern side of the Atlantic.

It would really have spoiled the whole party!

The Evil that Sparrow do



Let me show you more graphically - and in colour - what I mean:

The following list is my trip list from May 2005 and can be regarded as an assembly of species any birder from overseas is likely to encounter during an ordinary birding trip to the Great Lakes in May.
Blue are the species that also occur in Europe and are thus more or less easily seen in the UK. Red are North American species that have already been encountered in the UK and for the sake of this post, I presume (of course knowing this is completely unrealistic, but it makes for better reading) a keen UK birder may have seen them all in his home country.
So what is left for such a birder on a trip to the Great Lakes, what lifers can they expect?
The black ones.

Common Loon

Red-throated Loon

Pied-billed Grebe

American White Pelican

Double-crested Cormorant

American Bittern

Least Bittern

Great Blue Heron

Great Egret

Snowy Egret

Green Heron

Black-crowned Night-heron

Mute Swan

Trumpeter Swan

Canada Goose

Pale-bellied Brent

Wood Duck

Mallard

American Black Duck

Northern Shoveler

Blue-winged Teal

Green-winged Teal

Redhead

Ring-necked Duck

Long-tailed Duck

White-winged Scoter

Surf Scoter

Hooded Merganser

Red-breasted Merganser

Common Merganser

Ruddy Duck

Turkey Vulture

Osprey

Sharp-shinned Hawk

Cooper's Hawk

Northern Harrier

Broad-winged Hawk

Red-tailed Hawk

Rough-legged Hawk

Golden Eagle

Bald Eagle

American Kestrel

Merlin

Peregrine Falcon

Wild Turkey

Ring-necked Pheasant

Sharp-tailed Grouse

Ruffed Grouse

Spruce Grouse

King Rail

Virginia Rail

Sora

Common Moorhen

American Coot

Sandhill Crane

Black-bellied Plover

American Golden Plover

Killdeer

Semipalmated Plover

Piping Plover

Greater Yellowlegs

Lesser Yellowlegs

Solitary Sandpiper

Spotted Sandpiper

Hudsonian Whimbrel

Upland Sandpiper

Ruddy Turnstone

Sanderling

Dunlin

Pectoral Sandpiper

White-rumped Sandpiper

Baird's Sandpiper

Semipalmated Sandpiper

Least Sandpiper

Short-billed Dowitcher

Wilson's Snipe

American Woodcock

Wilson's Phalarope

Little Gull

Bonaparte's Gull

Laughing Gull

Ring-billed Gull

American Herring Gull

Glaucous Gull

Great Black-backed Gull

Black Tern

Caspian Tern

Common Tern

Forster's Tern

Rock Dove

Mourning Dove

Black-billed Cuckoo

Yellow-billed Cuckoo

Common Nighthawk

Chuck-will's-widow

Whip-poor-will

Chimney Swift

Ruby-throated Hummingbird

Belted Kingfisher

Yellow-bellied Sapsucker

Red-headed Woodpecker

Red-bellied Woodpecker

Downy Woodpecker

Hairy Woodpecker

Black-backed Woodpecker

Northern Flicker

Pileated Woodpecker

Olive-sided Flycatcher

Eastern Wood-pewee

Willow Flycatcher

Alder Flycatcher

Least Flycatcher

Yellow-bellied Flycatcher

Acadian Flycatcher

Eastern Phoebe

Great Crested Flycatcher

Eastern Kingbird

Warbling Vireo

Philadelphia Vireo

White-eyed Vireo

Red-eyed Vireo

Yellow-throated Vireo

Blue-headed Vireo

Blue Jay

American Crow

Common Raven

Horned Lark

Barn Swallow

Cliff Swallow

Northern Rough-winged Swallow

Bank Swallow

Tree Swallow

Purple Martin

Buff-bellied Pipit

Black-capped Chickadee

Tufted Titmouse

White-breasted Nuthatch

Red-breasted Nuthatch

Marsh Wren

Sedge Wren

Carolina Wren

House Wren

Winter Wren

Golden-crowned Kinglet

Ruby-crowned Kinglet

Blue-gray Gnatcatcher

Eastern Bluebird

Swainson's Thrush

Veery

Gray-cheeked Thrush

Hermit Thrush

Wood Thrush

American Robin

Gray Catbird

Brown Thrasher

Cedar Waxwing

European Starling

Tennessee Warbler

Nashville Warbler

Orange-crowned Warbler

Blue-winged Warbler

Golden-winged Warbler

Northern Parula

Yellow Warbler

Chestnut-sided Warbler

Magnolia Warbler

Cape May Warbler

Blackburnian Warbler

Black-throated Blue Warbler

Cerulean Warbler

Black-throated Green Warbler

Yellow-rumped Warbler

Palm Warbler

Pine Warbler

Prairie Warbler

Blackpoll Warbler

Bay-breasted Warbler

Kirtland's Warbler

Black-and-white Warbler

American Redstart

Prothonotary Warbler

Common Yellowthroat

Mourning Warbler

Connecticut Warbler

Kentucky Warbler

Northern Waterthrush

Louisiana Waterthrush

Ovenbird

Canada Warbler

Hooded Warbler

Wilson's Warbler

Yellow-breasted Chat

Scarlet Tanager

Summer Tanager

Dickcissel

Rose-breasted Grosbeak

Indigo Bunting

Northern Cardinal

Eastern Towhee

Chipping Sparrow

Clay-coloured Sparrow

Field Sparrow

Vesper Sparrow

Lark Sparrow

Grasshopper Sparrow

Henslow's Sparrow

Le Conte's Sparrow

Savannah Sparrow

Song Sparrow

Lincoln's Sparrow

Swamp Sparrow

White-crowned Sparrow

White-throated Sparrow

Baltimore Oriole

Orchard Oriole

Eastern Meadowlark

Western Meadowlark

Bobolink

Red-winged Blackbird

Brewer’s Blackbird

Common Grackle

Brown-headed Cowbird

House Sparrow

Evening Grosbeak

American Goldfinch

Pine Siskin

House Finch

Purple Finch



And frankly, having only the black birds left as new bird impressions and visual adventures makes a trip to one of the most wonderful areas of the world (bird-wise and in my honest but personal opinion) rather pointless.
Just imagine: You're landing at Toronto or Detroit, get your common stuff (like the grackles) within your first day en route and then you're left with hardly any lifers at Point Pelee despite being in North America for the very first time!

What a terrifyingly horrible and despicably depressing thought!!


And this, my inclined reader, is the reason why I am happy about NOT being a UK birder:

The fact that Germany barely ever gets any North American vagrants has effectively kept me from pursuing them on the "wrong" side of the Atlantic and had left a whole bag full of new-species-fun for my trip to North America in May 2005 (my high school exchange year in Canada being so long ago - almost 20 years - that the birds seen then felt like lifers again in 2005).

Any North American bird species seen back home would have effectively reduced the greatness of the trip.

But then of course - knowing myself - I wouldn't be able to restrain myself from watching North American vagrants - if I was a UK birder - and could not deliberately stay at home while everyone else around me was watching stray tanagers.
So I think it works best for me to just not have a chance at seeing/finding North American birds here along the Baltic Coast of Germany.

I am perfectly fine with it, thank you very much.

And last but nor least, another reason for being happy about residing and birding in Germany:
The German name for White-crowned Sparrow is "Dachsammer" which translates to Badger Bunting.


And after looking at the bird and comparing it to a European Badger, that's one of the best bird names I ever came across, regardless of language!

So maybe, and now that I have seen the species in North America anyway, just a wee little tiny bit of White-crowned Sparrow around Stralsund would be acceptable?

Don't you agree?

Mind sending the Norfolk bird over?

Thank you very much.

Monday, 28 January 2008

No more Mr. Birdwatcher?

As a birder, I have always enjoyed searching for rarities, finding the unusual, the vagrants and oddities.

That's all over now.

After roughly a quarter of a century, this has all simply become far too boring to be worth my while.
Yes, it is true: "Been there - seen that - done that" feeling all around as soon as I even lay my eyes on a pair of binoculars.

"Where's the challenge?", I keep asking myself and no one answers.

I have therefore switched from birdwatching to something far more difficult, if not impossible:

I have joined the ranks of my fellow amateur-meteorologists and started the ultimate quest that makes kayaking the lowland swamps of Louisiana in search of some woodpecker look like a trip to the local grocery store in search of a bottle of Coca Cola:

I have decided to go and look for winter!!

Well, rumour has it that the North American winter is throwing some big party around the Great Lakes and has invited all his buddies over, including our good old trusty Mister Baltic Winter. If this is true or not still remains to be clarified, but what's for sure is that January is almost over, we're nearing the peak winter phase and have had - optimistically - a handful of days below freezing point until now.
Well, I wouldn't mind that too much if I was staying in Egypt on the Red Sea coast, but over here? Dammit, we're as far North as the southern coast of Hudson Bay, for crying out loud!!

Nightmare!

I have taken a few shots of our winter skies over the last few weeks to prove my point or rather emphasize that this is truly turning into a psychological problem.



Beginning of December



Middle of December



End of December



Beginning of January



Middle of January


Winter birding has basically been non-existent so far and if this warming trend continues at its current pace, we'll have a though time finding Snow Buntings in this kind of winter landscape next January:




Oh well, this is still a birding blog, so here you have it, your birding feature:


Mysterious Monday




Anyone dares a guess as to the object's identity?
It might be a bird.
And it is neither a rogue flying carpet nor a melanistic Seriema flying to the left.

And - unfortunately - it also is not our winter coming in to land and settle down.

Wednesday, 23 January 2008

The things I have been up to...

It's been a while, I know.

I have missed blogging throughout this time and was delighted to see and read that there are indeed a few people out there who noticed my absence and actually demanded a new post.

This is very kind!!


Okay, to take the burden off my soul I must say that there has been a good reason for staying off-line, possibly the best reason there can be.
No, I did not visit Panama with Nuthatch's group, although that would be another acceptable reason.
I am also not dead, haven't even been ill lately, am knocking on wood right now, everyone else around me - as far as I can tell - is fine (hear me knock again), I did not visit the Ross's Gull that's been hanging around Denmark for ages now..., nope, nothing of that sort.

What kept me from Blogging was the arrival of my son


His Hungryness Prince E. M. Belltowerbirder the Smallest


on December 11th, at 9:36 am. For the first time ever, I am a father.




All of us - my wife, son and also myself - are fine and healthy. Well, my wife and I have shown recent signs of massive fatigue and ageing, but I suppose that's just the normal evolutionary process of withering and wilting age in the face of the next generation.

As many of you might have noticed, his arrival hit our planet 6 weeks ago and I still haven't even managed to send out emails with pictures to our closest friends.

Shame and honest apologies.

Well, he's someone who can keep you quite busy and even though this is all more than fine, any spare time we accidentally chance upon is used to maintain basic biological functions through eating, drinking or catching some sleep.


Well, of course parental duties severely impact birding possibilities and I was therefore very relieved to find that Lovely Belltowerbirder Junior (or LBJ as his closest friends and relatives are allowed to call him) shows all the signs of becoming Germany's Next Top-Birder.

I therefore took him on his first real birding excursion to the vast outdoors, which is the city's harbour right outside our little apartment.

I have documented his first approach to birding with a few pictures that I'd like to show and comment upon here:



This is my new perspective upon birds and birding: Mallards, Gulls and Coots viewed over the front of a stroller. Oh come on, it could be worse - as soon as I get bored, a quick glance into (and not over) the stroller will immediately get me an excitement fix to carry me through the next 50 Black-headed Gulls



But you do know the birding is lame when you get excited over finding a largely black-headed Black-headed Gull in winter. And yes, those are rain drops...



This is what those with decency are supposed to look like now...




... and that flasher of courtship signals in winter and totally out of season surely got the disapproval of the whole flock.



Some may remember that in my former life as a birder, I took a deep interest in the variation of the Common Gulls wintering here around Stralsund. Well, that project has hit a nasty snag recently, and not through diaper duty: it's pretty hard to study the variation of winter gulls when winter has decided to skip a few years here. Indeed, there are hardly any Common Gulls around and the following one, the only one I was able to photograph this winter, isn't too exciting as it shows all the field marks of the western form Larus canus canus, the usual form around here.



The common Common Gull



Once in a great while, exciting birds show up around the ponds and harbour waters of Stralsund, and during this first ever birding excursion, LBJ got to see a very close Great Crested Grebe.
Well, he would have gotten to see it had he not fallen asleep the moment I left the house with him.



Another Great species (though not really crested around here but man, that would be a neat record) regularly seen by myself and LBJ on our bird excursions - well, the one we had - is the Coot. As a matter of fact, anyone who's seen them in courtship fights knows why there's even been a song written about them ("Black Balls of Fire" as sung by Jerry Lee Lewis) and incidentally, there's a growing number of scientist who maintain that the Titanic did not hit an ice berg after all but was just unlucky in getting in between two fighting Coots. I endorse their theory, no matter what their pinkish bills might make you think.



And last but not least, my new birding hot spot offers a chance to take a look at the common species from a completely different angle and possibly gain new insights and inspirations.


My son LBJ always enjoys to make a deep and profoundly good impression on people and has thus decided to demonstrate his scientific motivation to his parents and the world by proving that the term "fuzzy baby" hasn't been taken to the extremes, yet. Therefore, and quite often so, I find myself placed in the push position behind a stroller containing LBJ and walking the nightly streets of Stralsund.
Yet again though, I can see that LBJ means only good and Stralsund at night isn't all too bad.
Here for example is the Gorch Fock, a beautiful sailing ship with quite a history that you can read about here.


Day after day, day after day we stuck no breath no motion, as idle as a painted ship upon a painted ocean ... or as an old ship with no money for repair at a remote harbour.




While the pubs and bars are still out of bounds for LBJ and me on our nightly tours...




... the harbour's breakwater is a good compensation and a very social one, too if you enjoy the sole company of a sleeping baby.



Yet again though - and even in his sleep - LBJ's birding genes amaze me: through our night excursions, I found out that up to 1,400 Black-headed Gulls use the jetties as a roosting site during the night.


Happy birding trails and all the very best from LBJ as well!

Monday, 3 December 2007

Read this!!

This must be one of the funniest blog posts I have ever seen!!

Redpolls!

This post is almost a repitition of what I wrote back in March 2007, and you might just want to (re-) read my former post here.

The winter of 2005/2006 started out in a rather ordinary way here along the German Baltic sea coast. November had passed, fall migration had basically ceased and everybody - well, maybe not the general public but those who truly matter: the birders - was awaiting the influx of the winter birds from Scandinavia.
Around the end of the month though, things took a sudden and unexpected turn: Redpolls!
Well, Redpolls aren't very special around here. The central/western European form cabaret has recently colonized this part of Germany and breeding pairs are now frequently seen in gardens and cemeteries all over the place. Each winter, small flocks of the northern flammea are also regulars, usually numbering in their 20ies or 30ies and even though you won't see them each day you're outside, they are around. The winter of 2005/06 however saw an influx of Common Redpolls the like I have never experienced up here. Redpolls were everywhere and even though most flocks were below 100 birds, some exceeded 300.
Very neat.
Then it happened: neighbouring countries, like Denmark to the North and Poland to the East started to report relatively high numbers of Arctic Redpolls within these flocks of Commons and once reports came in from the Netherlands to the West, it was clear that we, too were being overrun by Arctics. Problem was: no reports yet.

How could that be?

Arctic Redpolls are a very rare species in Germany. As a matter of fact, they are really rare. In most years there won't be a single acceptable record and every second or third winter might lead to one or two birds being reported and approved of by the records committee. And that's even an optimistic guess. So my optimistic guess was that none were reported from here not because the species had decided to avoid Germany of all the European countries but because people were seeing but not recognizing them.

All of a sudden, I was a man on a mission.

I ordered all the identification articles I was able to find out about and spent hours and hours in front of my laptop searching for and studying pictures of all sorts of Redpolls. Finally, I felt I was ready and I took my theoretical knowledge to the test: I went out in search for Redpolls.

Okay, I'll cut it short to get to the main point of my post: in the following three months, I studied a total of well over 1,000 Redpolls and found no less than a minimum of 6 Arctics, which might be a record number of Artics found by a single observer in one winter in Germany. So it was pretty good fun.
Yet again, though, there was a problem: back then I didn't have a camera and my digiscoping equipment was horrible, so I had no definitive proof of my "claims". Surely I had told other birders of the Arctics but very frequently, these observers would look at the same flocks the day following an Arctic observation by me and not find the bird amongst the commons. Yet again, I felt, they were seeing but not recognizing!

So what is the problem with identifying an Arctic Redpoll?
The problem seems to be that it is so bleaking similar to the Northern flammea form of the Common Redpoll that even when you look at an Arctic amongst a flammea flock, you don't have that certain light bulp moment kicking in.
You see, when you check through one Warbling Vireo after another in search for a Philadelphia, you go through all of the subtle characters on each bird and often have these moments were you think that this particular Warbling somehow looks different and might show traits of a Philadelphia. So you struggle, and check again, and don't really know what to think of it. But the moment you actually find a Philadelphia, it is plain obvious, bam, there it is, clearly a different species and no mistaking it!
This is not the case with the Arctic Redpoll. Identifying an Arctic Redpoll completely relies on checking a few key field marks but even when you have established that a particular bird simply must be an Arctic, it still doesn't feel like a different bird species amongst the Commons, it just looks like a subtly different bird of the same species.

Therefore, preparation is everything.

And this is something Sibley knows (again!) as well. He's written a short - and I hope he'll extend it like he did on the "Great White" Heron - post on the key identification criteria here to get North American birders prepared for the Hoaries or rather Arctics headed their way. And it seems we might also have another Redpoll invasion this winter here along the southern Baltic coast...

First up, though, there's a need to clarify the taxonomy we are talking about here.

Currently, the Redpolls are divided into three species (two for the more conservative taxonomists):

1. Arctic or Hoary Redpoll Carduelis hornemanni, with two subspecies: C. h. hornemanni breeding on Greenland and neighbouring parts of Canada and exilipes, breeding from Northern Europe accross Siberia into Northern North America.

2. Common Redpoll Carduelis flammea, with three subspecies: islandica on Iceland, rostrata on Greenland and flammea from Scandinavia all the way East to Northern North America.

3. Lesser Redpoll Carduelis cabaret (sometimes considered a subspecies of Common Redpoll), no subspecies: central and western Europe.

So when North American and European birders are searching Redpoll flocks for Arctic/Hoary Redpolls, they are looking at the same forms, trying to find Carduelis hornemanni exilipes amongst Carduelis flammea flammea. Well, some East Coast birders in North America might encounter the Greenland forms, but I'll just forget about that for now...


So now, finally, the part of this post that might bring profit in the form of knowledge to my readers, links and hints:
A very nice homepage for those who can read Swedish (not so much different from German or English) is here, with some bits already translated into English.
Once you've familiarized yourself with the basic identification criteria (summarized nicely in Sibley's post), I have found it very useful to study the bird images available on the Internet, especially tarsiger.com and birdpix.nl, with the Arctic Redpoll links being here and here and the Common Redpoll pics being here and here.

As Sibley has pointed out, there are a few key criteria, and after reading up on Redpoll identification and studying a couple' hundred pictures, I came to the following set of three field marks that a Redpoll must show in order to be identified as an Arctic by me:

a) largest undertail covert purely or almost purely white
b) white rump
c) narrow or no streaking on breast and flanks (as if drawn with a very sharp pencil)

Using these criteria, I was sure to miss a few Arctics as not all Arctics show a combination of these three criteria, but considering the rarity of the species in Germany and the high number of records I obtained during the winter of 2005/06, I considered a very conservative approach appropriate.


Most male Arctic Redpolls are quickly found in a flock of Common Redpolls by their paleness and soft pink breast colouration.

Here, however, are a few tricks and pitfalls I encountered using these criteria.

A general problem:
Redpolls are very active and flighty birds and rarely remain still for more than a couple of minutes before taking to the air again. Searching such an active flock of Redpolls for an Arctic by these subtle characters takes a lot of time and quite frequently I would search a flock of no more than 50 or 60 Redpolls for more than an hour before finding an Arctic.
Furthermore, Redpolls are very active birds, and I can only emphesize that what I wrote back then was not a joke:
"You see, the problem was that one field mark could only be seen from below (undertail coverts) while the other one could only be seen from above: the rump.
Now, Redpolls usually were seen feeding somewhere near the ground in high grass or low in bushes until one of the flock got nervous or maybe bored and decided to cause a bit of a stir, so the whole flock flushed and flew around for a few seconds just to settle down at roughly the same spot again. If this happens every minute you have a very hard time checking all these field marks: 30 seconds to find a potential Arctic, 15 seconds to triple check for the one field mark you are able to look at depending on the bird's relative position to you, 15 seconds to wait and hope the bird would turn around so you could check the other key field mark ... Whoops, sorry, 60 seconds are over and the cards get shuffled again.
30 seconds to find a potential Arctic, 15 seconds to triple check for the one field mark you are able to look at etc."

Arctic Redpolls require patience. Lots of cool-blooded patience.


The white undertail coverts:
The white undertail coverts appear to be the most reliable field mark of the Arctic Redpoll. If your bird shows entirely white undertail coverts, it seems that you can safely call it an Arctic/Hoary. Some Arctics, especially females and immatures, might show a thin dark line on the greatest undertail coverts and if the rest of the bird looks like a "classic" Arctic/Hoary, it is still a safe bet. But a strong, dark, arrow- or drop-shaped mark is almost a dead ringer for Common Redpoll.
However, be sure you are looking at the largest, last undertail covert. A Common Redpoll may show no dark pattern (pure white!) on all but the largest, last undertail covert and that can be misleading! This is something to keep in mind.



On most Common Redpolls, the dark tear-mark on the largest undertail covert is rather obvious and can even be seen on this truly horrible digiscopes image of a male.


White rump
The white rump is not a very strong field character of the Arctic as quite a few pale - mostly male - Common Redpoll can show a rump that's close to white (mostly very pale pinkish or a light grey-brown). If your candidate shows a white rump, it might very well be an Arctic, but you still have a few more steps to take before making a certain identification. However, if your bird does not show a white rump, it very, very likely is not an Arctic, not even an immature or female bird.
Beware though that Redpolls often fluff up part of their feathers above the folded wing (on the sides of their back), and when seen from the side, this will very much "definitely" look like a white rump.

This can be seen on the two images below. The first image shows a likely Arctic (female/immature type). The rump is white and the "back flanks" above the wing are fluffed up, leading to a complete white V-shape on the bird's lower back.


The following image shows the same bird again on the left, with a Common Redpoll to the right. Note that the Common also shows a lot of White on the back but that the rump itself is grey/brown, hence producing a pattern of two white lines along the sides of the back but not a complete white "V"-pattern. And yes, that stick is a bit unfortunate but you can still see what I mean...



Tricky birds!

The finely streaked flanks
Arctics mostly show close to no streaks (males) or very few streaks along the upper breast and flanks and these streaks are mostly very thin and sharply defined, as if drawn with a very pointed pencil.
Beware though that some Commons also show reduced streaks and that the streaks on a Common Redpoll can also be quite sharp and well-defined on the breast. The flanks however should always show a more broad, diffuse pattern of stripes.



As Sibley put it so nicely:

"Good luck"!

And patience, heaps of patience, I may add.