ANOTHER LOOK AT ARIZONA BIRDS

PHOTOGRAPHS BY THE AUTHOR "A Bird's Paradise," this State of Arizona has been called, and the reason for this seems quite evident. Here our feathered friends are offered so many choices: from low altitude to high; from hot and dry to cool and moist, and all with climate to match.

This unusual set of conditions will probably account for the fact that here the percentage of bird-minded (not "Bird-Brained") people appears to be higher than will generally be found. Not only can the average resident usually point out and name for you most of the birds in his locality, but our state has become a mecca for bird students from far and wide.

We bird fans have in the past always thought that with our bird glasses we were seeing just about all there was to be seen about these birds: Then high-speed photography came along and we soon discovered that we had been missing the most exciting thing about them.

We found that even the most plainly dressed of these birds may, when caught in flight, suddenly become something glorified beyond description; and that sometimes this transformation seems almost as startling and complete as is nature's leap from the caterpillar to the butterfly.

The electronic flash catches wings doing things which we had never suspected, and often the play of air pressures on the primary feathers provides a study in elegant grace which will never be matched by human artistry.

Look now at one of the commonest of the birds of our Arizona desert country: the Curve Billed Thrasher (Toxostoma curvirostre), the bird that builds its nest deep among the spiney arms of the Cholla cactus. First we see him sitting on a cactus, and then the same bird in flight. At rest he was just another brown bird, but in flight a truly breathtaking spectacle.

The little House Finch or Linnet (Carpodacus mexicanus) we have all admired for that raspberry blush on its breast and face; but until we viewed its picture in flight we never suspected that so much of its delicate beauty had been hidden from us.

The Cactus Wren (Heleodytes brunneicapillus couesi), that busiest of all desert birds, how much more delightfully interesting with every feather spread in flight.

The Red Tailed Hawk (Buteo borealis), a common sight along the highways, at rest on a dead tree-top or pole; but here on the wing, approaching its nest in the fork of a Saguaro Cactus, it surely becomes nothing less than poetry in motion.

The Gila Woodpecker (Centurus uropygialis uropygialis), the desert bird which digs its nest hole in the side of the big Saguaro Cactus. His bright red cap makes him attractive at any time, but when caught in flight he takes on a big new glamour.

The Arizona Jay (Aphelocoma sieberi arizonae), that smooth-coated blue and grey bird of the live-oak regions of our desert mountains. A handsome bird always, but in flight, a pure harmony of motion.

The little Rufous Hummingbird (Selasphorus rufus) is a radiant jewel wherever you find him; and although a mite so tiny may escape your notice during the infrequent moments when he is sitting still, he will immediately steal the show when on flashing wings among the flowers.

The Black-headed Grosbeak (Hedymeles melanocephalus) one of our best musicians, is a splash of many colors even when pouring out his song from a tree-top; but in flight he shows us a splendor of gorgeous colors which had never before been visible to us.

The White-Winged Dove (Melopelia asiatica) can be surprisingly pugnacious at times, and his strong wings are his chief weapon. This one is shown as he draws back a wing in a threatened blow at an intruder; and in doing so he shows us the delicate pearly hues which have been hidden there.

The Acorn Woodpecker (Balanosphyra formicivora) whose clownish painted face will always mark his identity, show us, in flight, a spread of flashy patterned wings poised beautifully for a landing.

Our own Arizona Pyrrhuloxia (Pyrrhuloxia sinuata sinuata) which we share only sparingly with our neighbor states: a real feast to any eye, in its tawny grey suit splashed with poppy red down the breast; along wing

edges and on its waving crest. The thick yellow bill gives an added note to his color scheme. All of this would seem charm enough for any bird, but when we catch our Pyrrhuloxia in all the glory of flight, with the rich vivid coloring revealed under the wings and on the body; with pinions bending in an ecstasy of perfect control; then we realize as never before, that we had never really seen this bird.

From bird watching to bird photography, and from bird portraits to wing-shooting, all have seemed natural steps in a lifetime of bird hobbying. In looking back over those years, one thing stands out very clearly, and that is the fact that each of these steps has called for more hard work and closer application than did the step before.

The work with sitting birds meant long, and often hot, hours in the blind (as will be attested to by the many other addicts), with only flies and gnats for company. Weeks and months and even years usually go into any sizeable collection of bird close-ups.

Then the exciting step to wing-shooting called not only for those same long hours of waiting in the blind, but worse yet, it now became necessary to sit figuratively on the edge of one's seat with every nerve taut; eyes scanning the visible sector of sky, and ears cocked to catch a whirr of wings coming to the feeder out in front. There will be no time to think: just take a lead like shooting ducks, and SHOOT.

This wing-shooting has been done without the aid of the usual electric eye equipment. We were well aware of this handicap from the start, but with a good electronic flash outfit we decided to have a try at doing the job by hand.

Several months and many rolls of film later, we found that we were, at least, having better luck than we had any reason to expect; and more important, that we were improving as we went along. We were finding a big thrill when a "Hit" was scored (when the flash hits them just right you know it) and this helped to overshadow the many misses and near-misses.

There were also many of that discouraging type of "Hit" where the target was centered well enough, butthe flash caught the wings in such an outlandish position as to be uncomplimentary to the bird. All of these are valuable in any study of wing action, and some of them are funny enough to keep for their own sake.

Our year-round work with the birds has called for a home on wheels. The winter season on the Sonoran Desert in the Phoenix or Tucson area offers a surprising variety in bird population, combined with delightful living: then with the coming of spring a move to a higher altitude gives us a different group of birds to work with. Such famous spots as Chiricahua National Monument; Patagonia; Madera Canyon or any one of the many other noted bird regions, provide a wide range of possibilities. In summer another brand new bird list can be found by moving farther up on the life-zone stairway; this time to the high country above the Mogollon Rim in the northern and eastern parts of Arizona. Here again there is an almost unlimited choice of locations for the summer's work, with some beauty-spot in the unforgettable White Mountains usually winning the toss.

When frosty nights begin to color up the aspen, we start moving back down that life-zone stairway, step by step, always with the bird prospects the main consideration, when Christmas time usually finds us back where we started, in our beloved Sonoran Desert, and eager to start the cycle all over again.

So far, in this work, we have used only our bird portrait equipment: Leica camera; 135mm Hektor lens; portable blind; background board; Ultrablitz Electronic Flash outfit with output of 225 watt seconds with two lamps. Kodachrome film has been used on account of its brilliance, sharp definition and lack of grain. A flash duration of 1/2000 Sec. was used rather than a shorter duration in order to avoid freezing all motion completely dead. Distance from lamps to subject has averaged three to four feet. Reproductions herein were made from 4x5 duplicates of 35 mm. originals.

Let it be said now that for the die-hard enthusiasts (or is it just trigger-happy shutterbugs?) who are willing to burn up film and nerve and time, this wing-shooting by hand does, at least, offer something different; and it is to such as these that I give those long hours in the blind, with nerves drawn to a razor edge, and with thumb getting numb on the cable release. Here's good luck, and don't forget to lead 'em.