GREENE CO., MO. — A steady barrage of raindrops drove us would-be owlers back into bed early yesterday morning. Conditions had improved only slightly by about 7:30, when we started off into the dim, gray morning.

Bruce and I rode with Lisa, and it didn’t take us long to kick up a gang of juncos, white-throats, and cardinals. Rainclouds brushed the treetops on Bear Mountain, and we drove or walked mostly in silence, hoping to hit small pockets of activity: three Golden-crowned Kinglets here, a lovely Hermit Thrush there, and pileateds calling from deep in the forest.

When the birds proved exceptionally scarce, there were at least lush growths of lichen, strong old trees, or calling frogs to take our minds off the drizzle.

None of the roadrunner spots produced this year, but chickadee numbers climbed steadily, and juncos and white-throats grew in spurts. Lisa finally managed a sapsucker, and if our White-crowned Sparrows were actually seen in Arkansas, we had no doubt that they’d been inside the circle sometime during the day.

We saw robins and waxwings in good numbers through the day. Most junipers showed little or no fruit, but one big old tree was heavy with the bluish cones, and there the birds had come to feast.

We finished the day with raptors: a Cooper’s Hawk, two kestrels, and Black and Turkey vultures, and then we headed back for chili and a compilation. We’d seen just under 40 species, and we wondered whether somebody else had found the goodie we never quite managed to get.

But it wasn’t a day for exceptional sightings, and none of the other groups did too much better than we did. We finished with 77 species in the end, which is on the low side of normal. Red-shouldered Hawks seemed strangely absent, and Horned Grebes outnumbered pied-billeds 43 to 11. Ducks were scarce, and nobody had a roadrunner. The dependable vulture roost was a bust this year, and as expected, robins weren’t roosting in big numbers, as far as we could discover.

Yes, the day was wet and slow at times, but you know … I don’t think I heard anybody complain.

GREENE CO., MO. –

We spent today roaming the hills south of Branson, Mo., on the Taney County Christmas Bird Count. I got back an hour ago and am pretty well wiped out, so I’ll post a fuller report sometime tomorrow.

GREENE CO., MO. — Charley and I headed down to Taney County this afternoon, hoping to locate a robin roost in preparation for the CBC on Dec. 30. We failed completely. After checking several known roost sites, all we had seen was a small flock of robins flying high and fast.

The Taney County winter robin roost is legendary in GOAS circles. During the 1990s, robin numbers were estimated at or above one million on three of the counts.

I have never seen numbers that high; the roosts have not held that many birds for several years now, if estimates are reasonably accurate. But this year, there doesn’t appear to be any concentration of the birds at all. Not even a small number like 100,000.

My curiosity piqued, I turned again to the Audubon CBC database. What I found was intriguing.

The count data show a near-perfect alternation between “high” years (an active roost with hundreds of thousands of robins) and “low” years (a few hundred birds scattered around the count circle). Last year, the count was “high” (though quite low compared to previous “high” years), so it shouldn’t be a surprise that this year is low.

What factors influence these swings? Do junipers have some sort of biennial fruit production cycle? It’s fascinating data … I’d like to find out more.

Though we missed the robins, Charley and I did encounter a flock of white, fluttering Bonaparte’s Gulls. They plunged into the water after prey, submerging themselves completely — much more like terns than their larger larid cousins.

GREENE CO., MO. — It’s the most wonderful time of the year … Christmas Bird Count season! OK, maybe spring migration is a little more exciting, but there is an undeniable magic about the CBC. I felt a rush of anticipation and nostalgia on Friday as I explained the CBC to some British friends in Dallas.

Twenty-four hours later, I was birding 450 miles to the northeast, joining friends old and new for the Springfield CBC. The day was warm, damp, and gusty, more like late March than mid-December. Early-morning owling was a total bust; we heard nothing we could count until the small birds started stirring in the brush and hundreds of robins streamed overhead in reluctant light.

Out of a day so long and full, our minds fashion well-crafted vignettes: the Winter Wren so busy among limbs and stones, the Pileated Woodpecker taking brilliant dogwood berries, the illimitable robins on their wilted sumac heads. Robins and goldfinches bathed on a gravel bar; juncos flashed through willows. A LeConte’s Sparrow flushed from the bluegrass at our feet, short tail angled downward as it flew. A Bonaparte’s Gull floated far across the water.

I’ve already blogged our group’s two best finds. The cedars, oaks, and pastures around Fellows Lake are supporting spectacular concentrations of starlings, robins, and various blackbird species. We scoped one pasture that held an estimated 500 Mourning Doves — more than any of us had ever seen at one time.

For these good birds and big numbers, we endured groans and murmurings during the compilation potluck. Everybody knows that the Fellows Lake area holds some of the best remaining habitat in the rapidly developing count circle. Of 88 species recorded during the day, our group had 71, many of which were not recorded elsewhere.

We didn’t have all the good birds, of course. Everybody exclaimed aloud when David announced he’d relocated the St. John’s Merlin, which has returned to the hospital for an incredible fifth winter. If this is indeed the same bird, she’s getting old for a Merlin. She must be tough and smart, and lucky.

A single Eurasian Collared-Dove was reported on the 2004 count, and 19 in 2005. This year, the count leapt dramatically to 148. Cooper’s and Red-shouldered hawks and Hermit Thrush were also reported to have new high counts (thanks for the info, Dorothy).

There were misses, as always. Some instruct us about distribution; others are less explicable. I don’t think anybody had Pine Siskins or Red-breasted Nuthatches, and Golden-crowned Kinglets were scarce. I didn’t hear one all day. Our group couldn’t find a Killdeer to save our lives, but other groups did.

I relish the excitement and camaraderie of the compilation — and the secrets, meaningful glances, and competitive jeers. I knew we didn’t have any new species for the list this year, and I waited anxiously to hear whether anyone else had either. But no, not this time.

When you bird year after year, you learn where to search for special birds. I knew exactly where to find a shrike this year, and the bird did not let me down. But you keep your eyes open for serendipity birds too, like a white-fronted goose slipping through the evening sky. After all, this is the CBC, and anything can happen.

CBC season extends to Jan. 5, 2007, so you still have time to find a count going on near you. If you’ve never been, or if you haven’t been in a long time, find a circle and start counting!

GREENE CO., MO. — I do like to finish a long day strong, and we did that today (or yesterday, by the time that I’ll click “publish”). Our group started the Springfield Christmas Bird Count hunting unsuccessfully for owls, but we finished with one bird that hasn’t been reported on this count for over 40 years and another that may need documentation to record its very unusual winter presence in the state.

The Greater White-fronted Goose that flew over Fellows Lake at sunset was a good bird, an unexpected bird. But I didn’t know how good it was until I checked historical data for the Springfield count circle. The goose has been recorded only once before, and that was during the 1962-63 season!

We wouldn’t have seen the goose, though, had it not been for the Eared Grebe that grabbed our attention as it dived near the shore in search of food. A faint memory told me that the species usually doesn’t hang around this late, so I huffed and puffed back to the car to retrieve my camera before light faded or the bird swam away.

Don’t let the awful quality of this record shot fool you. We had brilliant scope views of the grebe that made five grown men oo and ah! According tothe September ‘05 state list, Missouri has had fewer than 15 accepted winter records of the species, which may mean we need to send in a documentation form. Hopefully this photo will show the important field marks satisfactorily.