The 700 Party

Last month I passed another milestone in my obsessive birding career: I spotted my 700th species!  This is by no means a huge number in the grand scheme of things, as there are an estimated 10,150 bird species on Earth, but the average birder (who does not travel extensively) may only see around 350-450 species; the average non-birder may only be aware of seeing a fraction of that number.

To celebrate this achievement, I wanted to throw a big party.  The majority of my friends here in Korea are non-birders, but accept my quirky hobby even if they don’t entirely understand it.  The idea was two-fold: 1) do something that would remind all of us of our homes, and 2) maybe get one or two of them hooked with a well chosen “gateway bird” (patent pending).

The site of the aptly named “700 Party” was easy enough to decide.  We booked The Damyang House, a small house near the Gwangjuho Lake Eco-Park in Damyang-gun, owned and operated by expat Sean Walker and his wife Jojo.  Enough great things can’t be said about The Damyang House – it’s a little bit of home in rural Korea.  The house has a yard (unheard of in Korea), with a hammock, fire pit (!), wood-burning stove inside, and a top-notch entertainment system.  Sean and Jojo are a dream to work with, as their flexibility and attention to detail go above and beyond what you’d expect for a B&B.  Whether you’re thinking of visiting Damyang and want something more than a “love motel,” or you want that perfect venue for your upcoming event, I highly recommend checking out The Damyang House on AirBNB.

The Damyang House
© Sean Walker

The party started with some birding around Chunghyo-dong and the Gwangjuho Lake Eco-Park.  The place was pretty crowded in the afternoon, but we still had a good time, saw some good birds, and also attracted a small crowd of Koreans to see what the group of foreigners were so fascinated by in the trees.

Birding at the Gwangjuho Lake Eco-Park

Our craning necks and binoculars started to attract attention from the locals.  Here we are observing a pygmy woodpecker, and sharing the moment with some surprisingly excited Koreans, who probably never noticed these small birds before.
© Amanda Serrano

And here is the bird that caused all the fuss:  Pygmy Woodpecker (Dendrocopos kizuki nippon)

Wandering through rice paddies in Chunghyo-dong

As daylight waned, we returned to The Damyang House and started up the barbeque.  I can’t tell you how nice it was to cook on an actual Weber with real charcoal and everything!  Once night fell, we transferred the coals to the fire pit and had ourselves a campfire…marshmallows and all!

Good food, better company…

Two Binch cookies and a roasted marshmallow make for a half decent Korean smore
© Lianne Bronzo

Thanks to our friends for coming out to “the middle of nowhere” to celebrate this geek-tastic occasion, and especially to The Damyang House for providing the perfect venue.

The 7 Hundreds

The Fortress and the Unexpected Year Bird

The end of summer in Korea is a spectacular time of year.  Korean summer consists of inescapable humidity and crippling heat.  Everyday.  For nearly four months.

Once summer ends, though, things take on a whole new appearance.  It rarely rains throughout September, with every day being a perfectly clear sky and comfortably warm temperatures.  October is much of the same, though the leaves start to change color and fall away, and the temperature dips ever so slowly at night.  And as hard as you try to ignore it, the sun creeps behind the horizon a little earlier each day.

So it was on a perfect October morning that Melanie and I set out to Geumseongsanseong (금성산성), an ancient fortress ruin in the mountains around Damyang-gun, just north of Gwangju.  We’ve hiked this steep climb many times, but had never actually gone all the way around the fortress wall.  This wall encloses a small valley, and protects an old hermitage at its center.  Like the Great Wall in China, the battlements follow the lay of the land, resulting in a lot of sharp ups and downs along the path.

One of the gates at Geumseongsanseong

Looking out over Damyang-gun

This hardy tree clings to life on a solid boulder along the wall of Geumseongsanseong

The view from the northern wall of Geumseongsanseong

In addition to the amazing scenery (especially on a clear autumn day), I’ve found many interesting bird species in this area that I rarely encounter elsewhere.  See an earlier post about Geumseongsanseong, when I observed alpine accentors and a golden eagle, two species that I have yet to see anywhere else in Korea to date.

It took Melanie and I almost six hours to hike the entire perimeter, keeping in mind we were going at a leisurely pace.  Hiking with me usually consists of a lot of stopping and starting, as every song or call I hear requires identification.  If I can’t ID it just on sound alone, I have to stop and look for the source, because chances are if I can’t ID a sound, it’s because I’ve never encountered it before (and therefore, LIFER!)  Melanie has an abundant supply of patience…

We were finishing up our hike as the sun descended towards the horizon.  Then, a flutter of movement as something flushed from right along the trail at Melanie’s feet and bee-lined it for the tree branches above.  My mind goes through the motions: medium-sized ground bird, large body, powerful direct flight.  Strong wing beats that produce some noise.  Overall brown color, cryptic patterning, short tail.  (Oddly enough, this is practically word-for-word what went through my mind as I watched the whole event, which lasted no more than 5 seconds.)

I put all of that information together, instantly ruling out 99% of my Field Guide to the Birds of Korea.  Only two candidates remain, and I can rule out common pheasant easily because of the short tail observation.  Which leaves only one option left: hazel grouse!

Hazel grouse are small gallinaceous birds, part of the order that includes turkeys, chickens, and other game birds.  They closely resemble the ruffed grouse of North America.  However, they are scarcely seen, due mainly to their naturally shy nature and cryptic camouflage.  I have only encountered hazel grouse before on two separate occasions, both of which were over a year earlier.  Melanie, on the other hand, had never seen one before.

Male Hazel Grouse (Tetrastes bonasia amurensis)

For all the fuss it made flushing from the side of the trail, we had to peer through the branches to actually see the grouse.  Finally, I located it hiding behind a low-hanging branch.  The grouse looked down at us, and remained relatively motionless.  Then it began to vocalize in a high-pitched whistle; the sound was very uncharacteristic of most gallinaceous birds I’ve encountered before, and had I only heard it calling and not actually have seen it, I would never have guessed a grouse was making this call.

A pair of hikers passed us by soon after, and the grouse decided to fly off to another tree.  Generally grouse are not strong flyers, and make short direct evasion flights when flushed or startled.  This time the grouse only flew about 10 meters away, and landed in an exposed tree where it was in plain sight!  I cautiously approached, and was treated to a one-on-one photo session with a truly accommodating bird.  It wasn’t until a nosy Eurasian jay appeared that the grouse began to move further into the surrounding forest.

Hazel Grouse closely resemble Ruffed Grouse in every way but the facial patterning

And with that, we continued on down the mountainside, enjoying a beautiful sunset after an incredible hike.  Although the day was not particularly birdy, encountering a hazel grouse and having such good views made for a very memorable experience.

Birding Gageo-do

I’ve been fortunate enough to have done some birding on islands, namely Amherst Island in Canada, on Kinmen Island and mainland Taiwan, and on some of the small islands off the coast of Korea, namely Eocheong-do (오청도) and Heuksan-do (흑산도).  Large islands can often offer the adventurous birder endemic species, found nowhere else on Earth.  Smaller island, on the other hand, are havens for birds during migration, and one never knows what will show up.

Unlike the other islands I’ve birded in Korea, Gageo-do (가거도) is about as isolated as a Korean island can get.  It’s out in the middle of the Yellow Sea, about 140 kilometers from the nearest mainland port, and has a very small population compared to its size.  The island itself is quite rugged, characterized by high, forest-covered mountains in the interior, surrounded by rocky cliffs around the coast.  It’s not an easy terrain to navigate on foot, and the trails that do exist are not maintained and barely deserve the name.  As compared to Eocheong-do, with its well-kept hiking trails and convenient paved roads, Gageo-do is challenging…but it makes it that much more rewarding.

Island birding in Korea means pelagic birding, as the islands are only accessible by ferry.  Depending on the destination, this rare opportunity to observed the ocean’s unsung avian wonders can be thrilling or a complete miss.  The ferry to Gageo-do takes between 4 and 5 hours to reach the island, making a few stops at other islands along the way.  However, unlike the ferry to Eocheong-do, passengers are not permitted to go outside of the cabin throughout the trip, so all birding must be done looking through the window.

The rocky shores of Gageo-do

Nevertheless, the sea was surprisingly calm and the skies were clear.  At about the one hour mark, we came onto several groups of red-necked phalaropes out in the ocean.  These shorebirds spend the breeding season on land in the northern latitudes, but retreat to the open ocean for the winter.  It wasn’t until we were nearing Gageo-do that I began to see my first pelagic species.  Gageo-do has a breeding colony of Swinhoe’s storm petrels, which nest on the surrounding islets.  There were dozens of groups of threes and fours, flying quickly from the path of our ferry.  Hidden among these small birds were three unusual specimens.  Swinhoe’s storm petrels are bat-like in appearance, and have dark plumage all over their bodies.  So imagine my surprise when I picked out three birds showing bright white rump patches as they evaded the ferry.  Reviewing my copy of Onley & Scofield’s Albatrosses, Petrels & Shearwaters of the World, I narrowed it down to either Leach’s storm petrel or (more likely) band-rumped storm petrel.  Reviewing my observations, I decided on Band-rumped, as the birds I observed did not have the forked tail common in Leach’s.  I doubt this is the first recorded sighting of this species in Korean waters, but it is nonetheless an exceedingly rare occurrence.  Both A Field Guide to the Birds of Korea and the Birds Korea Checklist for the Republic of Korea only list Swinhoe’s storm petrel as occurring in Korean waters; even the checklists on Avibase fail to mention any other storm petrel species.  If only I had been able to get a photo for confirmation…

When we finally arrived at the island, my first encounters were with the resident species.  Blue rock thrushes were plentiful, and the prevalence of first-year birds indicate there was a successful breeding season on the island.  The marina held dozens of grey herons and smaller numbers of great egret and little egret.  The village of Gageodo-ri was patrolled by a pair of common kestrels, which would put in an appearance everyday of my trip.  Elsewhere around the village were numerous light-vented bulbuls; these rare breeders actually outnumbered the brown-eared bulbuls which are far more common on the mainland.  And flitting about the harbors were numerous wagtails, including grey, white, and eastern yellow wagtails.

Blue Rock Thrush (Monticola solitarius philippensis)

Grey Wagtail (Motacilla cinerea cinerea)

Looking out over Gageodo-ri

But it was the migrants that I was interested in.  There isn’t much in the way of shorebird habitat at Gageo-do.  The beaches that are there are rocky and the sand is replaced by smooth pebbles.  However, a few migrant shorebirds were around, including singles of Pacific golden plover, red-necked stint, long-toed stint, and several wood sandpipers that could be found on the grassy common area at the center of Gageodo-ri.  Cryptic Latham’s snipes were flushed from their hiding places in the tall sedges around Gageodo-ri and Hangri-maeul.

Pacific Golden Plover (Pluvialis fulva)

Wood Sandpiper (Tringa glareola)

I was hoping for some migrant warblers and flycatchers, which should be moving through in good numbers.  The few trails that I had located around Gageodo-ri were too overgrown to bird effectively – I spent more time avoiding thorns and watching my footing than watching the birds around me.  Luckily, there are two roads that traverse the island, connecting the main village of Gageodo-ri to the small hamlets of Hangri-maeul and Sam-gu.  Most of the migrant passerines could be found along these roads, where the edges of mountain forests met the rocky coastline.

This road (1 of 2 on the entire island) connects Gageodo-ri and Hangri-maeul

Grey-streaked Flycatcher (Muscicapa griseisticta)

The most common bird along these roads, besides the blue rock-thrushes, were grey-streaked flycatchers.  I am not sure whether this species breeds on the island; I usually found them in groups of three or more, flitting along the roads and into the air as they hawked insects and dragonflies.  Migrant warblers could also be found along the roadsides.  I didn’t find many warblers in large numbers, but there was definitely a good variety of species.  Dusky warblers were probably the most numerous; although I rarely actually saw them, their distinctive chip note could be heard frequently along the road.  Eastern crowned leaf warblers and yellow-browed warblers were present in smaller numbers, and I had a brief glimpse of a brightly colored Pallas’s leaf warbler.  However, the best Old World warbler (and the best bird of the entire trip!) was Middendorff’s grasshopper warbler, a drab brownish warbler that I located twice near the village of Gageodo-ri.

Although it isn’t much to look at, the Middendorff’s was officially my 700th species!

Middendorff’s Grasshopper Warbler (Locustella ochotensis)
This is Life Bird #700!

Eastern Crowned Leaf Warbler (Phylloscopus coronatus)

Yellow-browed Warbler (Phylloscopus inornatus)

The most numerous bird of all, however, was the Japanese white-eye.  These small greenish birds were literally dripping off the leaves.  I would often have to sift through large flocks of white-eyes just to spot that one non-white-eye.

Japanese White-eye (Zosterops japonicus simplex)

There were so many white-eyes that the tree branches simply ran out of room for them all…

The island also hosted a few predators as well.  In addition to the pair of kestrels that patrolled the skies above the main village, at least two peregrine falcons were also making use of the thermals over the mountainous interior.  Shrikes were also fairly common on the island, with three species present.  Brown shrikes are often found on the islands offshore around Korea; I found one on Eocheong-do during the spring migration.  On Gageo-do there were two brown shrikes, each on a different side of the island.  A single juvenile bull-headed shrike indicated that there was likely a breeding pair of adults somewhere on the island, even though they remained unseen during my stay.  The big surprise was not one but two long-tailed shrikes, again on either side of the island.  These shrikes are quite common in China and Taiwan, but almost entirely absent from Korea.  Occasional records do crop up on some of the islands, but overall it is quite a rare bird for the country.

Brown Shrike (Lanius cristatus cristatus)

Long-tailed Shrike (Lanius schach schach)

The four days on Gageo-do were a great way to kick off the fall migration.  There was a good variety of resident and migrant species, and I was treated to some rarer species that I can’t find on the mainland.  In total I saw just over 50 species, and picked up 4 life birds, including #700!

Saving the Coucal

To me, one of the most positive qualities of human beings is our ability to show compassion to other species.  Altruism within a species is fairly common (for a variety of reasons), and while seeing a young teenager help an old woman carry groceries to her house may give me that Hallmark feeling, it isn’t really that unusual.  But far fewer organisms show this same altruism to members of a different species.  Humans are unique in that regard – only a handful of species (some primates, dolphins, dogs, etc.) exhibit this behavior, so it could be said that it is one of the things that separates humans from the other animals.  On a personal note, I really dislike that statement, since it implies that humanity is somehow above or better than other organisms, and I feel that most of the world’s environmental problems would be solved if we realized that we are NOT above or better than the world around us.  But that’s not the point of today’s post, so let’s move on.

I’ve worked with birds in a variety of ways.  While I list them and photograph them in my spare time, I’ve actually worked with birds one-on-one, through a variety of research projects involving point-counts, mist-netting, and nest searching.  I’ve been trained on the proper way to handle birds of all species, how to go about searching for and monitoring nests with a minimum of interference, and how to recognize stress behaviors in birds.  Therefore, I’ll begin this post with the old adage don’t try this at home, I am a professional.

Melanie and I were biking along the northern shore of Kinmen.  As we turned a corner, I noticed a small dark shape sitting on the road.  Traffic in Kinmen is not what you would call “busy,” but nonetheless there are tour buses and construction vehicles that are very large and move very quickly.  Needless to say, the road is not the kind of place where one takes a nap.

It’s rarely a good sign when a bird is resting on the road …

I quickly identified it as a juvenile greater coucal, and my initial impression was that it had been hit by a car.  We’ve all seen enough roadkill in our lives to know the end result of vehicle vs. Nature.  I was expecting to find a mangled wing, and the realization of what would have to be done next started to gnaw at my insides.

To my (very relieved) surprise, when I approached the bird I did not find any obvious sign of injury.  It turned its head to look at me, but did not attempt to escape.  Not the best of signs, but not the worst, either.  It appeared to me that the bird was either disoriented or exhausted, as evidenced by its open mouth and slight panting.  If nothing else, I decided to move the bird to a more shaded area, where it could cool down instead of baking in the blazing sun on sizzling asphalt.

Coucals are medium-sized ground cuckoos.  They have strong legs and talons, although they are not as sharp or long as a hawk’s.  Still, care needed to be taken when handling the bird; even an accidental scratch by a sharp claw is enough to break the skin and cause a serious injury.  Fortunately for me, the coucal made no fuss, and allowed itself to be picked up and moved off the road.

Once we were off the road, I gave the bird a quick look-over.  I gently stretched each wing, to ensure that there were no broken bones.  The coucal did not show any sign that this caused any pain or discomfort.  All of the feathers looked in good order, there was no blood or other sign of injury, and the wings could be moved easily.  The coucal also kept a firm grip on my hands.

With no indication of injury, I placed the bird into a small opening in the vegetation.  The spot was well shaded by the trees, and provided some cover so the coucal would not be obvious to any predators.  I also used my water bottle to give the bird some quick drinks of water, which it lapped up readily.  After about 10 minutes or so, the bird closed its mouth and began looking around again.  It seemed much more alert, and when a large dump truck cruised by where we were standing, it jumped into the bushes and disappeared.

My educated guess is that the bird, being a first-year juvenile, may have overexerted itself in the hot weather, and suffered sun stroke.  Having nowhere else to go, it landed on the only open place it could find, which happened to be the middle of a road.  It’s not worth thinking about what would have happened had Melanie and I not come by when we did.

As I have already mentioned, I am trained in the proper handling of birds.  I do not recommend handling any wildlife that you may come across, both for their safety and for your own.  If you come onto an injured animal, contact a local wildlife management agency, a wild animal care center, or your local police station.  The point is, do something.  Making a quick phone call to save an animal’s life is hardly a difficult thing to do.

Before disappearing into the brush, the greater coucal allows me to take a quick portrait.

Best wishes to my new friend, the greater coucal, and here’s hoping you lead a long and healthy life.  Stay away from those roads!

China / Taiwan Tally Sheet

Here is a complete list of all the birds seen throughout our trip to China and Taiwan.  Where available, I have included a link to photos of each species.  There are 89 species listed.

SPECIES	LATIN BINOMIAL	LOCATION
Waterfowl – Anatidae
Eastern Spot-billed Duck	Anas zonorhyncha	Taiwan
Grouse – Phasianidae
Ring-necked Pheasant	Phasianus colchicus	China, Taiwan
Grebes – Podicipedidae
Little Grebe	Tachybaptus ruficollis	China, Taiwan
Great Crested Grebe	Podiceps cristatus	Taiwan
Herons & Bitterns – Ardeidae
Yellow Bittern	Ixobrychus sinensis	Taiwan
Grey Heron	Ardea cinerea	China, Taiwan
Great Egret	Ardea alba	China, Taiwan
Intermediate Egret	Mesophoyx intermedia	China
Little Egret	Egretta garzetta	China, Taiwan
Cattle Egret	Bubulcus ibis	Taiwan
Chinese Pond-heron	Ardeola bacchus	Taiwan
Black-crowned Night-heron	Nycticorax nycticorax	Taiwan
Ospreys – Pandionidae
Osprey	Pandion haliaetus	Taiwan
Hawks – Accipitridae
Black-shouldered Kite	Elanus caeruleus	Taiwan
Rails – Rallidae
White-breasted Waterhen	Amaurornis phoenicurus	Taiwan
Eurasian Moorhen	Gallinula chloropus	Taiwan
Oystercatchers – Haematopodididae
Eurasian Oystercatcher	Haematopus ostralegus	Taiwan
Plovers – Charadriidae
Black-bellied Plover	Pluvialis squatarola	Taiwan
Greater Sand-plover	Charadrius leschenaultii	Taiwan
Kentish Plover	Charadrius alexandrinus	Taiwan
Sandpipers – Scolopacidae
Common Sandpiper	Actitis hypoleucos	Taiwan
Green Sandpiper	Tringa ochropus	Taiwan
Spotted Redshank	Tringa erythropus	Taiwan
Common Greenshank	Tringa nebularia	Taiwan
Common Redshank	Tringa totanus	Taiwan
Far Eastern Curlew	Numenius madagascariensis	Taiwan
Eurasian Curlew	Numenius arquata	Taiwan
Ruddy Turnstone	Arenaria interpres	Taiwan
Sharp-tailed Sandpiper	Calidris acuminata	Taiwan
Gulls & Terns – Laridae
Whiskered Tern	Chlidonias hybrida	Taiwan
Royal Tern	Sterna dougallii	Taiwan
Doves – Columbidae
Rock Pigeon	Columba livia	China, Taiwan
Oriental Turtle-dove	Streptopelia orientalis	China
Red Collared-dove	Streptopelia tranquebarica	Taiwan
Spotted Dove	Streptopelia chinensis	China, Taiwan
Cuckoos – Cuculidae
Asian Koel	Eudynamys scolopaceus	Taiwan
Greater Coucal	Centropus sinensis	Taiwan
Swifts – Apodidae
Pacific Swift	Apus pacificus	Taiwan
Kingfishers – Alcedinidae
Common Kingfisher	Alcedo atthis	Taiwan
White-throated Kingfisher	Halcyon smyrnensis	Taiwan
Bee-eaters – Meropidae
Blue-tailed Bee-eater	Merops philippinus	Taiwan
Hoopoes – Upupidae
Eurasian Hoopoe	Upupa epops	Taiwan
Woodpeckers – Picidae
Grey-capped Woodpecker	Dendrocopos canicapillus	China
Shrikes – Laniidae
Brown Shrike	Lanius cristatus	China
Long-tailed Shrike	Lanius schach	China, Taiwan
Drongos – Dicruridae
Black Drongo	Dicrurus macrocercus	China, Taiwan
Crows & Jays – Corvidae
Azure-winged Magpie	Cyanopica cyanus	China
Red-billed Blue-magpie	Urocissa erythrorhyncha	China
Eurasian Magpie	Pica pica	China, Taiwan
Large-billed Crow	Corvus macrorhynchos	China
Collared Crow	Corvus torquatus	Taiwan
Swallows – Hirundinidae
Barn Swallow	Hirundo rustica	China, Taiwan
Pacific Swallow	Hirundo tahitica	Taiwan
Red-rumped Swallow	Cecropis daurica	China
Tits – Paridae
Marsh Tit	Poecile palustris	China
Coal Tit	Periparus ater	China
Japanese Tit	Parus minor	China
Long-tailed Tits – Aegithalidae
Black-throated Tit	Aegithalos concinnus	Taiwan
Bulbuls – Pycnonotidae
Collared Finchbill	Spizixos semitorques	China
Light-vented Bulbul	Pycnonotus sinensis	China, Taiwan
Black Bulbul	Hypsipetes leucocephalus	Taiwan
Chestnut Bulbul	Hemixos castanonotus	China, Taiwan
Bush-warblers – Cettidae
Brownish-flanked Bush-warbler	Horornis fortipes	China
Yellowish-bellied Bush-warbler	Horornis acanthizoides	China
Cisticolas – Cisticolidae
Common Tailorbird	Orthotomus sutorius	China
Hill Prinia	Prinia superciliaris	Taiwan
Parrotbills – Paradoxornithidae
Beijing Babbler	Rhopophilus pekinensis	China
Vinous-throated Parrotbill	Sinosuthora webbiana	China
White-eyes – Zosteropidae
Japanese White-eye	Zosterops japonicus	China, Taiwan
Old World Babblers – Timaliidae
Rufous-capped Babbler	Cyanoderma ruficeps	China
Streak-breasted Scimitar-babbler	Pomatorhinus ruficollis	China
Laughingthrushes – Leiotrichidae
Chinese Hwamei	Garrulax canorus	China
Père David’s Laughingthrush	Ianthocincla davidi	China
Chinese Babax	Ianthocincla lanceolata	China
Red-billed Leiothrix	Leiothrix lutea	China
Old World Flycatchers – Muscicapidae
Dark-sided Flycatcher	Muscicapa sibirica	China
Oriental Magpie-robin	Copsychus saularis	China, Taiwan
Blue-and-white Flycatcher	Cyanoptila cyanomelana	China
Blue Rock-thrush	Monticola solitaria	China
Thrushes – Turdidae
Orange-headed Thrush	Geokichla citrina	China
Starlings – Sturnidae
Crested Myna	Acridotheres cristatellus	Taiwan
Javan Myna	Acridotheres javanicus	Taiwan
Common Myna	Acridotheres tristis	China
Black-collared Starling	Gracupica nigricollis	Taiwan
Daurian Starling	Sturnia sturnina	China
Finches – Fringillidae
Oriental Greenfinch	Chloris sinica	China
Old World Sparrows – Passeridae
Eurasian Tree Sparrow	Passer montanus	China, Taiwan
Estrildid-finches – Estrildidae
White-rumped Munia	Lonchura striata	China

Rain & Rice

It’s the rainy season here in South Korea.  This year is being called the dry rainy season; it rains, but not nearly in the quantities that are normal.  Most days are characterized by overcast skies and that hanging feeling – it’s really humid and feels like it will pour at any second, but it doesn’t.

Not the kind of weather you want to go birding in.

I had been antsy the past few weeks.  I hadn’t been getting out much, I hadn’t been photographing much, and I hadn’t birded at all.  So despite those ominous clouds on Saturday morning, Melanie and I headed out to Gwangjuho Lake Ecological Park, hoping a change in scenery might do us some good.

The Eco-Park had undergone some “improvements” since my last visit a few months ago.  Several sections had been landscaped and replanted; in usual Korean style, it had been started and finished in a matter of days and there was no trace that anything had been done.

New plantings at Gwangjuho Lake Eco-Park.
This area had previously been an empty meadow just a few weeks ago.

The park held several families of azure-winged magpies.  We saw numerous adults foraging for food to bring to the gaping mouths of their offspring.  One group of four fledglings mobbed their parents whenever one of the adults came in with food.  Even among siblings, competition for food is fierce.

Sibling rivalry
Azure-winged Magpie (Cyanopica cyanus koreensis)

An adult Azure-winged Magpie, looking for food in the humid afternoon

There was more evidence of successful breeding throughout the park.  We saw several small groups of juvenile Japanese tits flitting about in the trees.  Near the entrance to the park were two juvenile grey-headed woodpeckers, the likely offspring of the Eco-Park’s resident pair.  These younger woodpeckers lacked most of the adults’ green coloration, appearing overall grey with a hint of green on the tail feathers.  The two juveniles kept in constant contact with each other and the adults by making short whistles.

Juvenile Grey-headed Woodpecker (Picus canus jessoensis)

We continued deeper into the park, finding small numbers of birds in little pockets throughout the area.  A large flock of vinous-throated parrotbills, full of juvenile birds, was the biggest single sighting we had all day.  The flock numbered around 40-50 birds; not an uncommon number for this time of year.  The boardwalk around the northern edge of the park was very quiet, with only a few Japanese tits and passing oriental turtle-doves.

A section of the boardwalk.  There was very little water here, despite the extensive growth of reeds and grasses.

Gwangjuho Lake itself was a shadow of itself.  The water level was down tens of meters, with an exposed lake bed stretching off into the distance.  Most of this muddy, nutrient-rich land had transformed into a field of low vegetation.  Gwangjuho Lake is artificial, serving as a primary reservoir for the surrounding area.  The water is used for drinking and agriculture, and its low level reflects the planting of the first round of rice for the growing season.

At the distant edge of the water we could see grey herons, great egrets, and little egrets taking advantage of the newly exposed mud.  Little ringed plovers, a breeding shorebird in the park, could be heard calling intermittently from across the lake bed.  We even spotted an immature Eurasian hobby patrolling the area, and making a successful grab at an unidentified prey.

Little Ringed Plover (Charadrius dubius curonicus)

Hidden in the short vegetation on the lake bed were small damselflies.  It seemed like there were thousands of them, quickly flitting about and disappearing in the greenery.  Larger dragonflies, namely black-tailed skimmers and wandering gliders skimmed across small pools of water.  We found numerous exuviae in the mud, evidence that many of the dragonflies we saw were newly emerged adults.

Dusky Lilysquatter (Paracercion calamorum)

Eastern Lilysquatter (Paracercion melanotum)

We completed our loop around the Eco-Park, scoring a few more species for our efforts.  Black-naped orioles were singing lazily in the humid air.  A family of bull-headed shrikes chased one another around, and juvenile pale thrushes begged for food from a single adult bird.  We took a break from the heat near a grove of metasequoia trees, lounging in the shade as the heat of the day wore on.

The Metasequoia Grove at Gwangjuho Lake

Dryad (Minois dryas)

On our way out of the Eco-Park, I noticed a small black dragonfly perched on some tall cattails by one of the lily ponds.  It turned out to be a butterfly skimmer, one of my favorite Asian dragonflies.  Also flying around the cattails were two species of damselfly, both identified only by their Latin names.

Butterfly Skimmer (Rhyothemis fuliginosa)

Ceriagrion melanurum

Ceriagrion nipponicum

After spending several hours at the Eco-Park, Melanie and I decided to visit one of the small restaurants across the street from the Park entrance.  We had discovered a small place during our last visit, which makes an excellent pajeon (파전).  Pajeon is a type of pancake, whose main ingredient is green onions.  A good pajeon will have grilled onions, green onions, maybe some peppers, and usually a type of seafood like calamari.  For a mere 8,000W (~$8), we got a huge pajeon and several side dishes (as is Korean custom).

Our half-eaten pajeon with a few side dishes.  This delicious Korean pancake doesn’t last long…

Before heading back home, we decided to stroll around Chunghyo-dong and see the many rice paddies in the area.  The rural area in Chunghyo-dong is much like rural areas anywhere in Korea: rice paddies stretch off into the distance and take up any flat land that is available.  I’ve often thought of Korea as having only three habitats: city, mountain, and rice paddy.

Rice paddies in Chunghyo-dong

However, the monoculture of rice paddies can be deceiving.  Wildlife still manages to keep a tenuous toehold in this environment.  Herons like striated heron, cattle egrets and great egrets make use of the shallow water to catch small fish and crustaceans.  Grey wagtails can be found along the drainage ditches connecting the separate cells of the paddies.  We even discovered four dollarbirds perched high above the rice paddies, scanning the area from a high-voltage power line that straddled the mountain valley.  Insects like dragonflies and damselflies also benefit from the shallow water, using the sheltered paddies to lay their eggs.

The highlight of our walk through the rice paddies was an adult Chinese sparrowhawk.  I’ve seen this species several times before, but always soaring high overhead.  This was the first one that I’ve found perched, and so was able to get a few photos before it flew off.

Chinese Sparrowhawk (Accipiter soloensis)

After spending nearly half the day in Chunghyo-dong, we caught the hourly 187 bus back to Gwangju.  Overall we observed 32 species of bird, 7 species of butterfly, and 10 species of dragonfly and damselfly.  A complete list of the birds seen can be found here and here.