Garden Prince: A Juvenile Male* Ruby-throated Hummingbird Surveys His Native Plant Kingdom. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
For most of the month of September, a (presumably) transiting juvenile male Ruby-throated Hummingbird laid claim to a patch of native plants in our back yard in suburban Houston. From a shepherd’s crookish twig (a dead coral bean tree branch entwined with a greenbrier vine) this feisty little bird watched over his patch of turk’s cap and coral honeysuckle. Occasionally he would make forays to visit our patio to sample the firespike flowers, but hour after hour he would sit, vigilant atop his curly perch. Whenever invading hummingbirds would appear he would, without mercy, drive them away and return to his throne. By the second week of October he was gone for parts unknown . . . perhaps he will return next year a king, gorget ablaze.
My crown is called content, a crown that seldom kings enjoy.–William Shakespeare
*I think that this is a first fall male because of the high level of aggression, the slight streaking of the throat, and one dark throat feather (not visible in photo). Although, it could possibly be an adult female. I invite comments from anyone who knows better.
Mated Pair of Green Darner Dragonflies (Anax junius). Dragonfly reproductive biology is rather brutal. The male dragonfly (right) grasps the the female (left) by the head while she lays eggs. This ensures that the eggs he fertilized have a chance at development–rather than being forcibly removed by another male. This “guarding” behavior can lead to damage to the female’s exoskeleton. Photo taken on 9/28/13 at Fennessey Ranch, South Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
I have noticed a large up-tick in the number of Green Darners (Anax junius) around the Texas Gulf Coast. This no surprise as Green Darners migrate from as far north as Alaska to as far south as Panama during the fall. The details of Green Darner migration across North America are sketchy, but many millions fly south during fall with their avian predators. Why some Green Darners migrate and others stay put is a mystery, but the north-south migration is intergenerational as the reproductive adult typically only lives for an estimated 4-7 weeks. On an individual basis, telling a migrant from a resident is generally not possible.
For a bird photographer, the waxing and waning of abundance of adults of different dragonfly species means that I get to shoot birds preying on different species of dragonflies throughout the spring, summer, and fall. For dragonflies, it seems likely that emergence (molting into the flying adult from the aquatic larval form) and mating are two times of special vulnerability to avian predation. In the case of the former, the dragonfly must sit motionless on vegetation for hours while the wings extend and harden. In the latter case, the male and female insects are attached, thus presenting a larger and slower target for predatory birds.
In any case, such temporal variation in prey abundance adds a fascinating dimension to nature photography . . . .
Little Blue Heron with Male Green Darner Dragonfly (Anax junius) at Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. This bird grabbed dragonfly after dragonfly from vegetation. Whether or not these insects had just emerged or were migrants must remain a matter of speculation–but one day there was suddenly a huge number of Green Darners in the park. Canon EOS 600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Photo taken in late September. High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
Prickly Pear Cactus Flower, Balcones Canyonlands Preserve, Central Texas. Canon EOS 7D/100mm f/2.8L IS macro with high-speed synchronized flash.
My initial interest in macrophotography flowed from my interest in birds. Often, I would see birds eating the fruit or seeds, or even drinking the nectar, of unfamiliar plants. I would then take a few pictures of the fruit or flowers for identification purposes.
This process has been helpful in understanding the habitats and habits of birds, and forced me to learn some macrophotography. It also got me thinking about efficiency and getting the most out of life.
It takes effort to go into the field. Now when no birds are around, rather than think about the day as a waste, I immediately start looking around for other interesting photographic subjects. Although, for me, photographing a flower is not as therapeutic as photographing a warbler, it is still an interesting and valuable exercise in the study of nature.
Witches’ Butter Fungus (Tremella mesenterica) at Brazos Bend Sate Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/100mm f/2.8L IS macro. Hand-held, high-speed synchronized flash.
Our first efforts in macrophotography utilized an inexpensive Canon 55mm macro (the so-called “compact macro”), and were generally unsuccessful. (Sidebar: Whenever I speak to professional photographers I typically ask for advice, and a common piece of advice is: never buy cheap equipment.) Shortly thereafter we bought the Canon 100mm f/2.8L IS macro which is simply a superb lens, and one of the sharpest around.
After talking with a naturalist and photographer about the importance (nay necessity) of using flash in macrophotography given the intense light requirement of shooting at high f-stops, we bought a ring flash and were off and running. Now when the birds are not out, but there are interesting plants and small, non avian critters around, I fish out the macro and go to work. Once in a blue moon, one has the exciting opportunity to turn a macro lens on a bird–as you can see below.
Juvenile Brown Pelican at Corpus Christi, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/100mm f/2.8L IS macro. Hand-held, natural light.
All right, Mr. De Mille, I’m ready for my closeup.
Hackberries and Spiders: A migrating first fall male Baltimore Oriole hunts spiders and forages berries on a fruit-laden hackberry tree. Photo taken in late September at Anahuac National Wildlife Refuge. Note the remains of berries on the bird’s beak. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
One of the highlights of birding during the summer/fall transition is witnessing the explosion of fruits that come into season at this time. Last Saturday (9/14) I visited the Edith L. Moore Nature Sanctuary in west Houston. Even though the drought had caused many of the plants to droop and otherwise appear stressed, the understory was bursting with ripe beautyberries and pokeberries, and greenbrier vines laden with shiny orange berries climbed to the heights everywhere. Yaupon berries were still green or just beginning to turn red and will provide food for birds later in the fall and winter.
Beautyberries (Callicarpa sp.) at Edith L. Moore Nature Sanctuary, Houston. Beautyberries are a favorite of American Robins, Cedar Waxwings, and Northern Mockingbirds. Canon EOS 7D/100mm f/2.8L IS macro. High-speed synchronized flash.
The beautyberry and pokeberry patch was thick with frugivorous American Robins and Northern Mockingbirds. A few Blue Jays and Northern Cardinals were also hanging around the patch. Mockingbirds were plucking greenbrier berries from vines high in the crowns of trees. On Wednesday (9/18) I returned to find that many of the berries had already been stripped from the plants. But, never fear, in the shadier areas the next crop of ripening berries was waiting in the wings.
For the birder, some plants with ripe berries are worth staking out. Hackberry trees, for example, are a favorite among primarily insectivorous birds (like warblers), as well as those mainly interested in fruits. A hackberry tree is a mini-ecosystem–fresh and decaying fruit attracts insects. Spiders hunt the insects from webs and the nooks and crannies of rolled-up leaves, and warblers grab the spiders. Ecosystems: they work!
A Black-throated Green Warbler hunts insects and spiders on a hackberry tree in late September. Black-throated Green Warblers will eat berries during the non-breeding seasons, but on this day it was all about finding insects and spiders hiding in rolled up leaves. Photo taken at Ananhuac National Wildlife Refuge, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stained
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
Beneath my shady roof; there thou may’st rest,
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe;
And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
Sing now the lusty song of fruit and flowers.
Green Heron Crouching Low on American Lotus Leaf. Perhaps to remain invisible to fish swimming near the surface, this Green Heron rested on its toes and feet close to water level. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas, natural light.
Even after several years of frequent wader-watching at Brazos Bend, these birds continue to reveal new tricks in their extensive repertoire of hunting strategies. Recently I observed a Green Heron resting on an American Lotus leaf. Green Herons are common at Brazos Bend, and they can often be seen hunting and fishing from aquatic vegetation and partly submerged logs. Birds usually stand on their toes. What was interesting in this case was that the bird was crouching low, resting on its toes and feet (digits and tarsometatarsi, respectively) near the edge of the plant. The bird peeked over the edge of the leaf, studied the surface of the water, and every so often shot out its long neck and snatched a small fish from near the surface of the water. Was the bird hiding from the fish below or studying the fish-produced ripples on the surface of the water, or both? In any case, it was fun to watch.
Nitpicking Green Heron at Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC).
Waders are great preeners, constantly cleaning and fussing with their feathers. Usually preening means that the action is over for a while–so the photographer interested in capturing hunting and fishing scenes may just as well move on to another bird. However, this summer I caught a Green Heron using the brilliant sunlight to find snacks on its wings. The bird, shown above, held its wings up to the sun. The light streaming through the feathers presumably allowed the bird to spot parasites, pick them off, and eat them. Pretty neat: dining at home!
Snowy Egret Bubbling and Crouching at Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. This bird is blowing bubbles and making ripples that seem to attract prey, including fish. In this case, the egret is crouching with one foot on a submerged log, the other on the bottom. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
This summer at least one Snowy Egret spent a lot of time blowing bubbles (and making ripples). This bubbling clearly activity attracted a variety of prey, mostly small fish, that were quickly snapped up. Once, the bubbling attracted something that was too big to handle. I saw a disturbance in the water, and the bird ran away squawking–perhaps a big gar or bowfin came slithering up? I also caught a bubbling Snowy Egret resting on its toes and feet on a log (shown below).
Crouching Snowy Egret. This Snowy Egret rests on its feet and toes to hunt via bubble-blowing at Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. A few bubbles can still be seen on the surface of the water. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC).
Although wary and uncooperative photographic subjects, Cattle Egrets are common in the grassy areas–and occasionally at the waters’ edge–at Brazos Bend. One day I saw a group of half a dozen Cattle Egrets stalking through the brush like a gang of young toughs grabbing dragonflies and spiders and whatever else moved. They strolled along together, a few feet apart, though the understory vegetation. If one bird flushed or disturbed a prey item an adjacent bird got a crack at it. Grasshoppers, spiders, dragonflies, maybe the occasional frog–down the hatch! Co-operation: it works!
Cattle Egret Hunting Dragonflies and Spiders at Brazos Bend State Park. Photo taken at Pilant Slough. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
There’s a fine line between fishing and just standing on the shore like an idiot.—Steven Wright
Male Broad-billed Hummingbird at Cave Creek Ranch, Arizona. The feeders around the main office were swarmed with Broad-billed, Black-chinned, Blue-throated, and Broad-tailed Hummingbirds. The Broad-billed Hummingbird is primarily a Mexican species, its range barely extending into the Southwest U.S. during summer. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
Portal, Cave Creek Canyon, and the South Fork of Cave Creek of southeast Arizona are magic words to birders. Southeast Arizona provides habitats for about one-half the species of birds present in North America north of the Mexican border. A variety of biological, geological and topographic factors have conspired to make this so. Most important, perhaps, is that this area lies at the northern extremity of the ranges of what are essentially Mexican species, so birds of the Southwest U.S. can be seen alongside more exotic subtropical ones.
Topography is also an important part of the story. Approaching Portal, Arizona from Rodeo, New Mexico you travel through the rocky Chihuahuan Desert, slowly climbing in elevation. Cactus, agave, and mesquite are scattered around. Near Portal, Arizona you start to encounter cottonwoods and other tall trees, and by the time you are driving Forest Road 42 toward South Fork Cave Creek you are in a stunningly diverse riparian forest with pine, sycamore, oak, maple and others: this is a Madrean pine-oak forest. The topographic map above gives some sense of the changes encountered while traversing the Portal area.
A View from the Vista Trail, Coronado National Forest, Arizona showing a pine-oak forest extending up to the bare volcanic rock of an arid canyon. The distribution of plants and animals varies dramatically by elevation and distance from water. Canon EOS 7D/Tokina 11-16mm f/2.8. Natural light.
Scattered around the forest floor in summer are trumpet-shaped pink to coral to red flowers–hummingbird food plants. At one point, I turned and came face-to-face with a Magnificent Hummingbird. The bird hovered in front of my face for a full second, looked me over, and shot off into the forest, perhaps in search of nectar. At lower elevations I noticed Scarlet Bouvardia (Bouvardia ternifolia) and Scarlet Sage (Salvia coccinea), giving way to unfamiliar flowers at higher elevations. The botany of this area will take years to comprehend . . .
Yellow-eyed Junco at Barfoot Park, Coronado National Forest, Arizona. Yellow-eyed Juncos are another primarily Mexican species. This bird nests in coniferous (or Madrean pine-oak) forests at elevations of 5,900-8,200 ft and eats mostly seeds (in cool weather) and arthropods (in warm weather). Barfoot Park is at an elevation of 8169 ft and is dominated by lofty ponderosa pines. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Likewise the incredible diversity of summer bird life, especially flycatchers, will take years to fully appreciate. With further study and (at least) annual pilgrimages to this area, I hope to become familiar enough with the natural history of the area to use season, elevation, and habitat to identify birds and help understand their activities. In any case, the Cave Creek area is certainly one of the crown jewels of American birding.
Fast is fine, but accuracy is everything.― Wyatt Earp
Male Rufous Hummingbirdon Dead Agave Flower Stalk at Franklin Mountains State Park, West Texas. Photo taken at the observation blind, Tom Mays Unit. The feeders draw swarms of Black-chinned, Rufous, and Calliope hummingbirds in summer. Photo taken in late July. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
No other habitat on earth holds as much wonder for me as the desert. Franklin Mountains State Park is a consistently great place for desert birding and seeing the flora and fauna of the northern Chihuahuan Desert. We have visited several times in hot and cool weather and hope to return at the earliest possible date.
Make no mistake: the rocky northern Chihuahuan Desert is a hard place, especially in summer. Common plants scattered across the rocky flats include agave, prickly pear, ocotillo, eagle claw cactus (Echinocactus horizonthalonius), and mesquite. The Franklin Mountains area is the only place to see Southwest barrel cactus (Ferocactus wislizenii) in Texas. Stream channels contain Desert Willow, sometimes haunted by nectar-seeking hummingbirds.
Quail are also associated with stream channels. Gambel’s (a.k.a. Desert or Arizona) and Scaled Quail are common resident birds at the Tom Mays Unit. These birds are often comical to watch as they come strolling along a gully in small groups–until they notice you . . . . They will then shift around for a bit, and nonchalantly walk the other way!
I can see you, and I don’t like it: Male Gambel’s Quail at Franklin Mountains State Park, West Texas. Canon 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
House finches and sparrows (Canyon and Spotted Towhees, for example) are an especially important part of the avifauna year-round. Green-tailed Towhees and Brewer’s Sparrow visit in the winter. Black-throated Sparrows are conspicuous year-round and will approach the observation blind closely at the Nature Walk Trail of the Tom Mays Unit.
The observation blind is a fiberglass affair with wooden benches inside. Although ergonomically unsuited for tripod use, the blind is remarkably cool even when temperatures are blistering outside and provides just about the only shade in the area.
Despite the harshness of the area, we can’t wait to return to Franklin Mountains State Park: hopefully we will get some better shots of the more camera-shy denizens of the park, namely Pyrrhuloxia and Verdin.
Singing in July: Black-throated Sparrow at Franklin Mountains State Park, West Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
“It is that range of biodiversity that we must care for — the whole thing — rather than just one or two stars.” – David Attenborough
Portrait: Purple Gallinule near Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. One of the most spectacular birds in North America, the Purple Gallinule takes an active role in parenting and engages in raucous fights during the spring. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
“To the complaint, ‘There are no people in these photographs,’ I respond, There are always two people: the photographer and the viewer.”― Ansel Adams
Sapphire: Male Eastern Bluebird. This bird utilized a nest cavity near Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, during spring of 2013. Eastern Bluebirds are common sights around Elm Lake throughout the summer. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
Although the vast majority of brightly-colored songbirds in Texas during the spring migration continue their journeys north, a few species remain to add flashes of color to the post-migration greenery. These include Prothonotary Warblers, Northern Parulas, Eastern Bluebirds, Painted Buntings, and Summer Tanagers.
Of course, one of the things to watch for in the spring and summer is nesting behavior. Early this spring in an area of Brazos Bend State Park much frequented by warblers and other songbirds, I identified a nest cavity being used by a mated pair of Eastern Bluebirds (male shown above). Much later in the spring, the same nest cavity was adopted by Prothonotary Warblers.
Sadly, about two weeks ago I noticed that the top of the dead tree containing the nest cavity snapped off, taking the cavity with it. Last week, too, I noticed that another nest cavity in this area was gone. The whole dead tree collapsed. This is unfortunate as this little patch of forest and slough has been a reliable spot for nest cavities and songbirds for the past several years. I spotted the male Prothonotary Warbler shown below, for example, in this same area last summer. What a reminder that things humans place no value on, like dead trees, can be vital to the health of an ecosystem.
Citrine: Male Prothonotary Warbler. Golden Swamp Warbler is the original (and so much better) name for this bird. Photo taken near Pilant Lake under natural light in late spring. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC).
Painted buntings, especially the adult males, are among the most brilliantly-colored songbirds in North America. It’s not uncommon for people to come up to me breathlessly in the field with something like: “We saw this bird, it was . . . .” “Male Painted Bunting,” I interrupt gently.
The best place to find Painted Buntings in summer at Brazos Bend is where there are tall grasses with mature seed-heads adjacent to wooded areas (just in case a quick getaway is required). Painted buntings are so spectacular they, no doubt, will warrant a whole post of their own at some point in the future.
Emerald: Young Male Painted Bunting Showing Brilliant Green Specular Reflection at Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Like some minerals, the iridescence and colors of some bird feathers are structural (the result of reflection, diffraction, and interference of light) rather than absorption and reflection due to pigmentation. This fellow it just starting to molt into his multicolored adult plumage. Photo taken during spring migration. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC) with high-speed synchronized flash.
Tanagers are such prized summer sightings along the Texas Gulf Coast that I find myself double-checking every male Northern Cardinal I see. A rule of thumb is helpful when looking for Tanagers: find the fruit (especially mulberries), find the birds. Otherwise, Summer Tanagers are specialist feeders on bees and wasps. A few times I have chased Tanagers through the sweltering underbrush in hopes of getting a shot–usually to no avail. Photographing birds in the fully leafed-out summer forest is tough, and songbirds, coy creatures that they are, are not about to cooperate.
Ruby: Male Summer Tanager in a Mulberry Tree at Sabine Woods, Texas. Elisa captured this image on a hot, muggy, and buggy morning in early April. Natural light. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC).Peek-a-boo: Female Summer Tanager among the Grape Vines at Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. No fruit yet: bugs will have to do. Photo taken during spring migration. Perhaps this Summer Tanager stayed in East Texas–some do. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC) with high-speed synchronized fill-flash.
“What makes photography a strange invention is that its primary raw materials are light and time.”–John Berger
Flame Skimmer Dragonfly(Libellula saturata) at Lost Maples State Natural Area, Central Texas. Elisa got this shot with a Canon EOS 7D/300mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC)/tripod. According to internet sources, the 300mm f/4 is a popular lens for dragonfly shots. Natural light.
During the summer in Gulf Coast Texas, when bird diversity is relatively low, there are generally lots of insects–especially dragonflies–to draw the photographer’s attention. Clearly dragonflies, although small, cannot be treated like typical macro subjects, at least most of the time. First of all, they are highly aware of their surroundings and sometimes won’t let you get close to them. Second, along the Gulf Coast they are often perched on emergent vegetation in alligator- and water moccasin-infested water, or chigger-infested grass.
Mating Halloween Pennant Dragonflies (Celithemis eponina) in a Strong Breeze at Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Photo taken at Elm Lake. This shot was only cropped significantly in the horizontal dimension: In other words, these insects nearly filled the frame vertically with this combination of equipment at the minimum focus distance. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC)/tripod with high-speed synchronized flash.
So rather than use a lens requiring a close approach (the super sharp 100mm f/2.8L IS macro, for example), the question becomes which super telephoto is the best dragonfly lens? Further, is flash necessary or even best? Should the 1.4x teleconverter be used? What about extension tubes? With this many questions and permutations of possible combinations of equipment (plus field considerations), I’ve come nowhere near a definite conclusion, but at least I have identified some issues–and I’m excited about further experimentation!
Although I know that some photographers use extension tubes in this application, for the moment I’m taking them off the table primarily because these devices (hollow tubes inserted between the camera and lens that decrease the minimum focus distance while retaining most camera functions) significantly decrease the flexibility of the set-up. Extension tubes cost image brightness, slow autofocus (if they allow it to function at all), slightly shift the focal point of the lens, and degrade the ability to focus at a distance. I’m looking for a rig that will allow excellent captures of dragonflies while preserving my options should a bird or other animal suddenly appear at a larger distance.
That said, the different super telephotos I have access to (100-400mm, 300mm, 500mm; 600mm) have different minimum focus distances (MFD) and magnifications. Of these, the 100-400mm is definitely out: It is a versatile lens, but it just isn’t as sharp as the primes (fixed focal length lenses). The 300mm has the closest MFD (4.93 ft), but in my experience that is often irrelevant because the bug won’t let you get anywhere near that close.
On the other end of the scale, dragonflies will almost always let you get to the MFD for the 600mm (18.04 ft), but that’s pretty far away for such a small animal. Teleconverters do not affect MFD, but they soak up a little light and degrade sharpness (only slightly for 1.4x on a prime). So far, I have liked some shots taken with the 600mm (+1.4x TC). This is probably because of the number of opportunities I’ve been able to take with such a large MFD–I don’t risk trying to get too close and chase the subject away.
Female Four-spotted Pennant Dragonfly (Brachymesia gravida) at Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS/tripod. High-speed synchronized flash.
Of the three primes (with teleconverters attached) being discussed here, the 600mm should give the worst results on theoretical grounds. The ratio of focal length (the longer, the better) to MFD (the smaller, the better), is a way to think about this issue. The larger this ratio, the better because it expresses how much focal length “firepower” you have per separation distance. For the 300mm (+1.4x TC), the focal length/MFD ratio = 85 mm/ft. For the 600mm (+1.4x TC), focal length/MFD ratio = 47 mm/ft. The ratio for the 500mm has a value of 48 mm/ft, nearly the same as the 600mm. So if you could get close, the 300mm should be best–but often you can’t get that close. Compromise strikes again!
As far as flash is concerned, it seems to be primarily a matter of taste. Natural light, of course, looks more natural. The flash reveals fine details, especially in the shadows, sometimes not visible in natural light. Flash can sometimes create a magical, almost surreal effect as in the case of the Halloween Pennants above. One clear problem with the flash is the same as in the case of birds: the flash adds an extra catchlight in the eyes. Because dragonflies have large compound eyes, the effect can be pronounced.
Swift Long-winged Skimmer Dragonfly(Pachydiplax longipennis) at Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS/tripod. Natural light.
So . . . what to do? For now, keep working, trying new combinations, and see if a clear choice emerges that preserves options and image quality. Finally, all this thought about dragonflies has clearly benefitted my bird photography in one way. I can now easily recognize all the common dragonflies around the places I normally shoot, and thus can put a technical name on some of the meals my beloved waders are enjoying!
Green Heron with Green Clearwing (Erythemis simplicicollis) at Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. This is my favorite type of dragonfly photography. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC)/tripod. Natural light.
“Your first 10,000 photographs are your worst.” ― Henri Cartier-Bresson
Green Heron with Six-spotted Fishing Spider(Dolomedes triton) at Brazos Bend State Park. Photo taken near Pilant Slough. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized flash.
There has been a bumper crop of fishing spiders this year at Brazos Bend State Park, and I have seen Little Blue Herons and Green Herons eat them, sometimes one spider right after another. Some years it seems as though wader diets consist of a fairly uniform mix of aquatic vertebrates and invertebrates, especially crawfish. This year, rather than crawfish, waders seem to be relying more heavily on smaller invertebrate prey items than in recent years. Lots of aquatic insect larvae, dragonflies, adult aquatic bugs and beetles, and spiders are being consumed along with the occasional small fish, frog, or tadpole.
Juvenile Little Blue Heron with Swift Long-winged Skimmer Dragonfly (Pachydiplax longipennis) at 40-Acre Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Juvenile Little Blue Herons are fun to stalk: they are prolific hunters but, being young, they still have a level of naiveté toward humans allowing a close approach. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS. High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
Invertebrates are highly sensitive to environmental conditions of temperature, humidity, and rainfall. This year’s unusually cool, dry spring may have led to a different mix of potential prey for waders. The Upper Texas Gulf Coast is already behind in rainfall for the summer and water levels already appear low, perhaps impacting aquatic vertebrate numbers as well.
Many of the invertebrates (spiders especially) I see waders take are living among the Water Hyacinth that is growing profusely in some areas of the park. Water Hyacinth is native to the Amazon Basin, but has been imported to many areas of the world where it has become a major nuisance by crowding out and shading native plants and choking waterways.
Beautiful Invasive: Common Water Hyacinth(Eichhornia crassipes) at Brazos Bend State Park. Water Hyacinth is costly and troublesome for land managers. Mechanical, chemical, and biological mechanisms for its control have been devised and employed worldwide.
Besides keeping an eye (and a lens) out for interesting wader predator-prey relationships, I am always on the look-out for hunting techniques. For example, Snowy Egrets are known for shuffling their bright yellow feet in the shallows to flush out prey. Several times over the past weeks I have seen a Snowy Egret (I think it was the same bird) employing a bubble-blowing technique on Elm Lake. This bird was (presumably) blowing bubbles to attract prey. Perhaps the bubbling simulates a small struggling animal, attractive to fish and other aquatic predators. Between bouts of bubbling, this bird also opened and closed its beak, a fishing technique I have seen employed by Black-crowned Night-Herons and Great Egrets, and one that also sends ripples out into the water. One time during this process this Snowy Egret grabbed a small aquatic invertebrate–it was down the hatch too fast to tell for sure what it was, although it was about the right size and shape for a water tiger (larval predaceous diving beetle). On another occasion, the egret was clearly catching small fish with this technique. Time will tell if anything bigger can be attracted by blowing bubbles!
Snowy Egret Blowing Bubbles at Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Photo taken at Elm Lake. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS. High-speed synchronized flash.
Juvenile Wood Ducks at Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Wood Ducks are tough to find at BBSP: They are typically suspicious of humans. These were young enough to retain their naiveté. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Photo taken near Pilant Lake in late June. High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
After a really interesting spring migration, I have settled into summer birding along the Texas Gulf Coast. Although I occasionally run into hearty souls willing to brave the Texas heat to see and photograph their beloved birds, the birding crowds have thinned. On those particularly broiling summer days, it sometimes feels as though I have the whole park to myself.
Common Moorhen Chick at Brazos Bend State Park. Mom will spend much of the summer feeding this little guy aquatic insects. Baby Common Moorhens, with their black fuzzy feathers and propensity to stand in blazing sunlight, are difficult to photograph. Photo taken at Elm Lake. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Although avian diversity is at its nadir at this time of year, certain things can only be seen in summer, and these make going out well worth the effort. These include Purple Gallinules, Common Moorhens, and Black-bellied Whistling-Ducks raising young. The latter are particularly fun to watch as parents coolly and calmly usher their ducklings into the marsh vegetation in the face of perceived threats.
Black-bellied Whistling-Ducklings at Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park. What is there to say, MP? Ducklings are cute. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
While the ducks and ducklings skulk off into the weeds when humans turn up, the Moorhens and Gallinules slowly stroll away from threats real and imagined on top of floating vegetation with babies in tow. Very young Moorhens and Purple Gallinules are fuzzy and black, little balls of darkness. Now and then, an alligator steams past and everyone keeps and eye out (including the photographer). A wader spears a frog. A Northern Parula sings, then a Prothonotary Warbler. And time passes slowly.
Young Purple Gallinule at Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. This young Purple Gallinule has passed its black, “ball of darkness” phase. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
“Ah, summer, what power you have to make us suffer and like it.”–Russell Baker
