mjm@oliven.ATC.Olivetti.Com (Michael Mammoser) (03/12/91)
As I sat on a hillside in south San Jose trapping and banding Rufous Crowned Sparrows, Paul Noble mentioned that he was taking his owl class out on a field trip that evening and invited me to go along. Paul is the president of the San Francisco Bay Bird Observatory and a local expert on owls and, since this represented another opportunity to see Northern Saw Whet Owl, my nemesis bird, I readily accepted his invitation. I arrived at the entrance to Butano State Park a little before 6:00 pm, where Paul and his students were meeting. Butano State Park is located about eight miles south of the town of Pescadero, on the west slope of the Santa Cruz Mountains, about twenty five to thirty miles south of San Francisco and only a few miles from the Pacific Ocean. The plan, however, was to initially leave the park and check out Gazos Creek Road a few miles to the south. The road parallels Gazos Creek as it makes its final run to the ocean, and is a rich habitat of riparian, mixed woodland, and conifers. The outing had an auspicious start when we spied a Great Horned Owl sitting at the top of a conifer next to the parking lot. In the growing twilight along Gazos Creek, the first owl that we tried to call in was Northern Pygmy Owl. These owls are most active at dawn and dusk, and we wanted a chance to see one before they retired for the evening. We slowly walked along the road, Paul playing his tape of the pygmy owl's call at regular intervals; until we heard a response. At this point Paul took up dueting with the bird, responding vocally with his best imitation. Evidently the owl thought it was a pretty good imitation too, because it came in closer and continued calling. It seemed that the owl was moving back and forth across the road, judging by the change in the location of the vocalizations. Either that, or there was more than one bird. Finally, the calling came from a small tree right alongside the road and Paul proceeded to scan through it with his flashlight, eventually finding the little owl on a low branch. The first thing that struck me when I saw the bird was its small size. Even though I had already seen the bird on a number of occasions, it is always amazing to realize that an owl can be this small. Even more so when one knows that it regularly attacks and eats birds that are easily as large as itself. The owl moved a couple of times to different branches in the tree before leaving for good. We returned to the cars, where we waited for the sky to darken before trying for Saw Whet Owl. After an appropriate delay, we walked the road again playing the tape and listening for responses. This proved fruitless, so Paul decided to return to Butano State Park to try for them there. At Butano, we walked along the paved entrance road towards a large oak tree, that Paul said always contained a screech owl. Tonight, it didn't. So, we concentrated on attracting a Saw Whet. This time we got a quick response. The owl moved into the trees next to us, calling continuously. We spent anxious minutes (for me anyway) trying to get it in the beam of light. For a while all we could do was illuminate it as it flew overhead across the road; a view I had seen before and considered unsatisfactory. Finally, Paul got the bird in the beam of his flashlight as it sat on an eye-level branch facing away from us. I could see its rusty brown back, liberally sprinkled with white spots; its tail flicking slightly upward with every call it uttered. Paul made a little squeaky noise and the owl instantly swiveled its head around, looking straight at us. Every time the owl looked away, Paul would squeak again, bringing its attention back to us. This lasted for a minute or more, and then it was gone. The owl continued calling from a conifer as we walked back to the cars. When we arrived back at the cars, we could still hear it in the distance. Although we missed seeing a screech owl this night, we managed to see three of the four species that we expected, including my nemesis bird. This deserved a celebration, so we all went to Duarte's in Pescadero for pie and coffee. Mike