Author Archives: Chris Cunningham

Migration, Nature’s Wonder, on the Gulf Coast

Where was I going? I puzzled and wondered about it til I actually enjoyed the puzzlement and wondering. –Carl Sandburg

Tennessee Warbler During Spring Migration, Catholic Cemetery, Dauphin Island, Alabama
Male Tennessee Warbler on Bottlebrush Tree During Spring Migration, Catholic Cemetery, Dauphin Island, Alabama. Tennessee Warblers follow nearly the same migratory path north during spring migration as they follow south during the fall. In the fall, though, they avoid the Atlantic Coast on their way back to Central and northern South America from all across Canada. Only they know exactly why. Note the pollen staining on the face. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

Gulf Coast birders are fortunate in that they have great places to enjoy both Neotropical migratory songbirds and shorebirds during spring and fall migrations. Despite the nasty weather, now is definitely the time to be out to catch the earliest migrants. With a little planning, you can see migrating songbirds and shorebirds on the same outing. Bolivar Flats and Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, and East Beach, Galveston, are great for the fall shorebird migration. Although known as a songbird mecca, Lafitte’s Cove is worth checking in the fall for shorebirds, too. We’ve seen Pectoral Sandpipers and Wilson’s Phalaropes there, for example.

Tennessee Warbler During Spring Migration, Catholic Cemetery, Dauphin Island, Alabama
Blue-winged Warbler During Spring Migration, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Blue-winged Warblers migrate across the same areas during both migrations. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

Sometimes being aware of different migratory paths in spring and fall can be helpful in identification, especially for warblers. Cerulean Warblers, for example, migrate across essentially all of the Gulf Coast during spring migration. In the fall, however, they cross the Gulf of Mexico much further east. Hence, it’s possible to see Cerulean Warblers along the Upper Texas Coast in the spring, but not the fall (barring birds being blown off-course by storms, of course).

Western Sandpipers, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas
Scenes to Drive You MAD 1: Western Sandpipers, fall migration, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Photo taken in late July. Natural light.

As noted in the previous post, fall migration is especially challenging as far as shorebird identification is concerned. Case in point: the Western Sandpipers above. Based on the rusty-red crown, ear-patch and wing markings, most of the birds in the above scene are clearly Western Sandpipers in breeding plumage. But notice that the in-focus bird is paler than the others. After flipping around in various books and scratching my head for a while (Is this a Semipalmated Sandpiper?), I “decided on” what I was seeing. This bird, I think, is ahead of the curve on transitioning into non-breeding plumage. Being a juvenile is also a possibility, but the markings on the heads of juvenile Western Sandpipers tend to be less distinct. I invite comments from readers who know more, though.

Short-billed Dowitcher, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas
Scenes to Drive you MAD 2: Short-billed(?) Dowitcher, fall migration, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Photo taken in late July. Natural light.

As similar problem faces the birder confronted with the dowitcher above: Long-billed or Short-billed? I believe this to be a Short-billed Dowitcher transitioning into non-breeding plumage. In my experience, the beaks of Long-billed Dowitchers tend to be blacker than this in non-breeding colors. Also, the few remaining feathers in breeding color on the wings appear to have orange, rather than brick-red markings—ambient light affects this, though, and identification is far from certain.

Finally, if you enjoy identification puzzlements such as these, now is the time to be at the beach along the Upper Texas Coast. A variety of dowitchers, plovers, sandpipers, terns, and others in every possible plumage (even down!) await you.

Preening Black Tern, near East Beach Jetty, Galveston Island, Texas
Preening Black Tern (Transitional Plumage), near East Beach Jetty, Galveston Island, Texas. Although we’ve seen them in other places, I had my first ever good look at Black Terns on Galveston this week! Most birds were preening and transitioning into non-breeding plumage. Black Terns can only be seen on Galveston during migration. I waded out calf-deep to a sandbar at high tide to get this shot. Black Terns are considered “vulnerable.” Note the molted feathers everywhere. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

©2016 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

Shorebirds and Terns at Ground-level

If they play dirty, then you play dirty. –Lawrence Taylor

Piping Plover (Breeding), East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas
Female Piping Plover (Breeding Colors), East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Piping Plovers are rare birds. The world population was estimated at 12,000 individuals in 2009 (Lockwood and Freeman, 2014). Fall migrants begin to appear in Texas at the end of June. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC) on ground pod. Natural light.

It’s an extremely interesting time to visit the Texas Gulf Coast these days. The fall shorebird migration is in full swing, and there is still plenty of family life to observe. Identifying some birds can be a bit of a challenge, though, as some species are showing immature, breeding, and non-breeding plumages simultaneously.

Last month, it was hard to decide if some of the birds were stragglers on their way north, or if they were planning on sticking around. But by now it’s clearly too late to be moving north, and many of the birds that breed here, like the Least Terns, are on their second brood. I guess I’ve exchanged one confusion for another!

Western Sandpipers (breeding), East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas
Western Sandpipers (Breeding Colors), East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Western Sandpipers begin to appear in Texas during fall migration in early July. Spring migrant stragglers can appear in Texas as late as June. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC) on ground pod. Natural light.

Ever since reading Bill Majoros’ Secrets of Digital Bird Photography, I’ve had shooting from a ground pod in the back of my mind. A ground pod is a dish-like affair that sits right on the ground and serves as a support for your tripod mount. Using a ground pod means, for the photographer, lying down on the ground. Many prefer the look of bird photos shot from as low an angle as possible to get, ironically, a bird’s eye view. Such a low angle makes the foreground and background disappear and gives the impression of a very narrow depth of field, regardless of f-stop, thus isolating the subject. My desire to give a ground pod a try was given another nudge by a nice talk on this subject by Tim Timmis that Elisa and I saw at the Houston Audubon Nature Photography Association meeting last May.

Bathing Least Tern (Breeding), East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas
Bathing Least Tern (Breeding Colors), East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC) on ground pod. Natural light.

As in all things photographic, shooting from a ground pod is a compromise. Use of a ground pod is also a highly specialized technique. This device can only work on level ground, free of any obstructions. A ground pod is therefore impractical in most of the places we normally shoot, like Brazos Bend State Park.

Ground pods will also not work well if the photographer needs to react to a birds moving around a lot or approaching from a variety of heights and directions. A stable place from which birds come and go is therefore needed. On certain beaches and tidal mudflats, then, the ground pod will work admirably for shorebirds and water birds—birds that tend to stick consistently to a choice patch of beach.

A photographer using a ground pod will also typically get filthy, and dirt, mud, and water can very easily be transferred to equipment—a big concern if you’re not using professional-grade equipment. Shooting from such a low angle also causes all the context of the bird to disappear in a dreamy haze, so you will lose all or most of the ecological information in the shot. But what context you fail to capture in the shot, you can bring back on your clothes!

Common(?) Tern with fish, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas
Immature Common(?) Tern with Fish, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC) on ground pod. Natural light.

My usual response to the multiple considerations and compromises on the beach is to shoot shorebird photos from my knees. A recent mishap has made ground pod shooting more likely, though. Through over-tightening, I broke the threads of the bolt that controls the stiffness of the pan control on my Wimberley II gimbal tripod mount. I soon realized that I could permanently mount the broken gimbal on our ground pod, a NatureScapes Skimmer Ground Pod II, because panning can be achieved by turning the whole apparatus.

Having to move a gimbal from a tripod to ground pod is an odious operation and not recommended in the field given that such mounts are prima donnas as regards fine adjustments of the center bolt, and you have to worry about getting grit in the threads. Now, with a new gimbal mounted on my tripod and the old, broken gimbal on the ground pod, I’m ready for action on the beach—I just have to talk myself into schlepping all those contraptions around!

Reference

Lockwood, Mark W., and Brush Freeman. 2014. The Texas Ornithological Society Handbook of Texas Birds. Texas A&M University Press. 403p.

©2016 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

Hunting Houston’s Exotic Birds

In the jungle, welcome to the jungle
Watch it bring you to your sha na na na na knees knees
I wanna watch you bleed . . . . Guns N’ Roses, Welcome to the Jungle

Male Northern Orange Bishop, Buffalo Run Park, Missouri City, Texas
Exotic Bird: Male Orange Bishop (Euplectes franciscanus), Buffalo Run Park, Missouri City, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

As of this writing, the terrible floods of spring 2016 have left Brazos Bend State Park closed. My normal routine of visiting the park a few times a week during the summer has been shattered, leaving me searching for other spots to bird. East End, Galveston Island has helped to fill the gap, but by 8am it’s broiling and the glare precludes photography. But then there is looking for exotic, invasive birds.

Thanks to a heads-up from a longtime friend and birder (M.B.) I was able to locate a patch of cane and prairie that a mixed flock of Orange Bishops and Orange-cheeked Waxbills (Estrilda melpoda) have made their home at Buffalo Run Park in Missouri City, Texas. These invasive African bird species and pet shop escapee descendants have been spotted around the Houston area—to the delight of many birders who are excited about seeing something new without having to travel to the ends of the earth, and to the horror of those concerned about the impacts they may be having on our native birds. Perhaps these emotions co-exist in some.

Many Houston birders are aware of invasives like Monk Parkeets, Red-vented Bulbuls–and now Orange Bishops and Orange-cheeked Waxbills. But the true extent of the alien invasion has yet to be understood. This week during our evening neighborhood walk, for example, we observed a small flock of “what the hell are those” feeding off grass seed heads along a bayou. These tiny birds were likely Asian munias of some sort, probably descendants of Asian wedding releasees. I’ll keep checking back until I can figure out exactly what they are, or get a good enough image to identify them definitively.

Oddly, I’ve been referring to my Hawaii’s Birds (Hawaii Audubon Society) book to identify things I’m seeing in Houston. Many of the same Asian and African species that are threatening native Hawaiian birds with extinction are now gaining a toe-hold along the Texas Gulf Coast. Not good.

Little Blue Heron with Crawfish, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas
Not Exotic Bird: Little Blue Heron with Crawfish, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Soon (I hope) I’ll be back to shooting scenes like this. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

©2016 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

Trilobites: A Shutterbird Launches a New Website

Why has not anyone seen that fossils alone gave birth to a theory about the formation of the earth, that without them, no one would have ever dreamed that there were successive epochs in the formation of the globe? –Georges Cuvier

Phacops speculator, Devonian Period, Morocco
“Phacops speculator,” Devonian Period, Morocco. Could the pebbly exoskeletal surface texture has have helped conceal this animal in a sandy paleoenvironment? Canon EOS 7DII/100mm f/4L IS Macro. High-speed synchronized macro ring-flash.

Readers of Two Shutterbirds may know me as an obsessed photo-birder who traipses around the country doing his best to master his birds and bird photography. A few of my readers know that before my ornithology obsession, I was an obsessed fossil-nut who traipsed around the country (often with Elisa, too!) hunting for fossils, especially trilobites, trying to learn how these fascinating creatures lived their lives so many millions of years ago.

I have enjoyed our Two Shutterbirds blog so much and have felt it has lead to so much personal growth in ornithological knowledge and photographic capability, I have decided to take a similar approach with trilobites. It has been years since I have thought seriously about these creatures, and I hope preparing articles about and taking photographs of trilobites, as well as corresponding with whomever chooses to write me on this topic, will get me back into the trilo-world. So, without further ado, I launch Trilobiteseas.com: Paleobiology of a Paleozoic Icon for the Collector and Enthusiast with a new article, Cryptic Strategies in Trilobites. Enjoy!

Just to reassure: Devoted twoshutterbirds.com readers should not fret. My trilobitic escapades should in no way hinder the flow of bird-related images and prose. Cheers!

©2016 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

A New Collection: Some 2015 Favorites

People need hard times and oppression to develop psychic muscles. –Emily Dickinson

Say's Phoebe, Basin, Big Bend National Park, West Texas
Portrait: Say’s Phoebe, Basin, Big Bend National Park, West Texas. This curious little bird was taking a break in the shade on a blistering summer afternoon. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

2015 was a rough year. With all the unfortunate things that happened last year, personal losses and natural disasters, it’s tempting to try and forget about the whole period entirely. But that would mean forgetting the wonderful things, too—and there were plenty. It’s taken a while to put this little collection together, but here goes!

©2016 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

Avian Happenings, East End, Galveston Island, Texas

Those who live by the sea can hardly form a single thought of which the sea would not be part. –Hermann Broch

Laughing Gull with White Shrimp, East End, Galveston Island, Texas
Laughing Gull with White Shrimp (Litopenaeus setiferus), East End, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Over the past week or so, I’ve made several dawn and dusk visits (once with Elisa) to the East End/East Beach area to observe and photograph summer shorebird behavior—which abounds at this time of year. Unfortunately by 8 am the area has been a blazing inferno, making photography a challenge.

In an earlier post I mentioned the appearance of a new tidal channel near the East End Lagoon Preserve. This week I took a look-see to find out the status of the new channel and the impact it might be having on the wildlife of the area. As I expected, the channel has expanded: it is now about twenty yards wide at the mouth during high tide. A Reddish Egret patrolled the channel mouth while Laughing Gulls, Royal and Sandwich Terns, and the odd Willet mostly stood around while I photographed them. They were taking some interesting prey, though.

Laughing Gull with Cutlassfish, East End, Galveston Island, Texas
Laughing Gull with Atlantic Cutlassfish (Trichiurus lepturus), East End, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

During the warm months, a strange, eel-like fish, the Atlantic cutlassfish (aka ribbonfish), is abundant in the bays and channels along the Texas Gulf Coast. Laughing Gulls and Royal Terns were having a field day eating them this week. Although the birds consumed them enthusiastically, both species seemed to have difficulty swallowing the fish’s long, thread-like tail. Some birds were walking around with a silver thread trailing out of their beaks!

Mating Royal Terns, East End, Galveston Island, Texas
Mating Royal Terns, East End, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Male Least Tern with Nuptial Gift, East End, Galveston Island, Texas
Male Least Tern with Nuptial Gift, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. The Least Tern is an endangered species and nests in scrapes on supratidal areas on Galveston’s East Beach. These nesting areas are protected by the Houston Audubon Society. Please adhere strictly to posted warnings. All beach-nesting birds have taken a terrible beating in recent decades because of recreational use of beaches—especially motorized vehicles that crush eggs and nestlings. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

The real story at this time of year on Texas beaches and barrier islands is, of course, breeding. The Royal Terns, Least Terns, and to a lesser extent, the Sandwich Terns, clearly had mating on their minds. Royal and Sandwich Terns were doing some dancing. Male Royal Terns and Least Terns were presenting females with a nuptial gift of small fish. A few Least Terns were nest-sitting. Some Royal Terns were copulating right out in public. Gracious! What will the drunken fishermen think?

Plovers, too, were everywhere on the East End of Galveston. Wilson’s Plovers were breeding along with Least Terns in the protected areas. Snowy Plovers were running around everywhere, but likely not nesting—their coastal nesting areas are further south in Texas. A few Black-bellied and Semipalmated Plovers were standing around trying to look innocent—as if we didn’t know that they are tardy for an appointment in the high-Arctic. Or perhaps they are among those rare birds that reside in Texas during the summer but do not breed?

Semipalmated Plover, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas
Semipalmated Plover, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. These birds breed in the high-Arctic, not Texas. Photographed in mid-June, is this bird really late for the spring migration, really early for the fall migration, or a “rare summer visitor?” Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Male Wilson's Plover, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas
Male Wilson’s Plover in the Weird Light of a Supratidal Mudflat at the Crack of Dawn, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Female Wilson's Plover, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas
Banded Female Wilson’s Plover at Dawn, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Finally, lending a splash of color to the seascape were American Avocets in breeding colors. These birds are either very late spring migration stragglers or belong to scattered clusters of birds, rare summer residents, that inhabit the Texas Coast. Whatever their story, it’s nice to be able to see shorebirds in breeding (summer) and non-breeding (winter) plumage at the same locale.

American Avocet in Breeding Color, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas
American Avocet in Breeding Color, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

©2016 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

Summer Birding Arrives!

Out where the rivers like to run
I stand alone
And take back something worth remembering —Paul Williams, Out in the Country

Yellow-crowned Night-Heron Nestlings, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas
Yellow-crowned Night-Heron Nestlings, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Not being from Borneo, it usually takes me a while to get used to birding the Texas Gulf Coast in summer. After a few weeks outside, I’m fairly acclimated, the dreary exhaustion of work has lifted, and I have sweated off a dozen or more pounds.

Despite the hardships, there are a number of positives associated with Texas summer photo-birding. Usually by June the allergy season is pretty much over (for me), and my senses of vision and smell are sharper. By mid-summer and weeks of being in the field trying to get in tune with the sensations of nature, I can smell other humans coming from quite a ways off. I’ve read that many foreigners say that Americans smell like soap. I concur—although after a day in the field I probably smell more like a thrift shop.

And most of the time during summer there is almost no one else outside—not even the usual noisy rabble of filthy litterbugs! Texas is just plain too brutal in summer for most people, casual birders included.

Cattle Egret in Breeding Colors among Wildflowers, Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas
Cattle Egret in Breeding Colors among Wildflowers, Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. This bird is likely hoping to find a big, juicy katydid or lizard. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Brazos Bend State Park is where I go most often in the summer for three reasons: It’s easy to get to, the bugs are tame compared to most other places around here, and it’s a great place to photograph hunting and fishing scenes. Hope springs eternal for capturing a big wader with a water snake, baby alligator, or nutria—although it’s usually fish, frogs, and insects.

Of course, like everywhere else at this time of year, there are lots of young birds around, too. By late July or early August, the first of the earliest migrants start arriving. By that time, I’m well over the heat, humidity, and bugs and am longing for a change. Of course, Texas is often merciless and won’t allow for a significant cool-down until at least October, when fall migration is in full swing. And then, of course, there are the summer trips. But that’s another story . . . .

Prothonotary Warbler with Dragonfly, Pilant Slough, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas
Prothonotary Warbler with Dragonfly, Pilant Slough, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Dragonflies are a big part of the many birds’ diets. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light

©2016 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

Glorious Purple Gallinules

Exuberance is beauty.—William Blake

Purple Gallinule, Pilant lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas
Adult Purple Gallinule, Pilant lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

In general, I consider bird photography to be a difficult proposition. Sometimes, as in the case of lightning-fast small songbirds, it’s right on the the edge of what is possible. If any bird makes bird photography easy, though, it is the Purple Gallinule, a fairly large, fairly slow bird that is not particularly wary of humans. Add to this the absolutely spectacular appearance of the adult, and you have a marvelous ambassador to the hobby for any beginner.

Immature Purple Gallinule, Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas
Immature Purple Gallinule, Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

A common misconception about Purple Gallinules is that the brilliantly colored individuals are the males, and the duller brown and turquoise birds are the females. This is not correct: as in most rails, sexes are similar. The more brightly colored birds are adult, and the more subdued ones immature.

Purple Gallinules breed in wetlands across the southern U.S., including our own Brazos Bend State Park. Purple Gallinules like it nice and toasty warm—so they do migrate (except Florida populations). But . . . how to say this politely? Now, I’m not using the word lazy, but rather . . . minimalist! Purple Gallinules migrate as little as possible south around the margins of the Gulf of Mexico in the fall until they find a comfy spot, returning for the summer heat along the Texas Gulf Coast (April through October).

Purple Gallinule Brawl, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas
Purple Gallinule Brawl, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Purple Gallinules are omnivores and eat a variety of foods. One thing to keep an eye for around here is their hunt for aquatic leaf beetles. They manipulate and inspect American lotus leaves and other aquatic vegetation to find them. Elisa documented this behavior in detail in another post.

Other things to watch for are spectacular territorial disputes that erupt between the adult birds. The image above was taken in early June. The purpose of these battles is, ultimately, to be able to produce what’s below: babies! Purple Gallinule chicks are delightful to watch with their gigantic feet, which are even bigger in proportion to the body than in the adult bird.

Purple Gallinule Chick, Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas
Downy Purple Gallinule Chick, Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Purple Gallinule Chick, Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas
Slightly Older Purple Gallinule Chick on American Lotus Leaf, Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Note the missing down on the head. The giant feet spread the bird’s weight over a broad area allowing it to walk on floating vegetation. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Finally, photographing the Purple Swamphen is on my very long bucket list. This bird is an exotic close relative of the Purple Gallinule that has naturalized in Florida. The Purple Swamphen is a bigger, chunkier version of the Purple Gallinule—but it’s every bit as colorful. Someday.

©2016 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

New Article: Birding Gulf Coast Migrant Songbird Traps

Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul. –John Muir

Gray Catbird, Lafitte's Cove, Galveston Island, Texas.
Gray Catbird, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Most birders are after warblers when they visit coastal migrant traps, but there is a wealth of other birds and animals to be seen and photographed in these special places. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

I think of migrant traps as the first quality habitat, usually on barrier islands, visible to birds after their epic flights across the Gulf of Mexico during the spring migration. In fall, these places are the last chance to drink up and fatten up before chasing the sun south for the winter. The best migrant traps have food, water, and cover—the essentials of life for birds. Cover usually means trees, and most of the best and most famous migrant traps are mottes, slightly elevated areas with trees on an otherwise low-lying and exposed mixture of land- and sea-scape. In this new article, I discuss findings and birding adventures in some of our favorite migrant traps from Alabama to the Coastal Bend of Texas.

Swainson's Thrush, Quintana Neotropical Bird Sanctuary, Quintana, Texas
Swainson’s Thrush, Quintana Neotropical Bird Sanctuary, Quintana, Texas. I was waiting patiently for a Yellow Warbler and a Magnolia Warbler to reappear out of a tangle of foliage when this curious little bird stepped out into the path and stared at me. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4xTC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

©2016 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

Lafitte’s Cove: Spring Migration, 2016

Love me or hate me, both are in my favor . . . If you love me, I’ll always be in your heart . . . If you hate me, I’ll always be in your mind.—unknown (often falsely attributed to William Shakespeare)

Cerulean Warbler, Lafitte's Cove, Galveston Island, Texas
Female Cerulean Warbler on Oak Branch, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

Despite having developed a love-hate relationship with the place, over the past month or so we’ve taken every opportunity to get down to Lafitte’s Cove for the spring migration. On a good day, this sanctuary is hard to beat, but getting there has become oppressive, and once there, the crowds can make functioning as a wildlife photographer next to impossible. Tour groups have begun to show up at Lafitte’s Cove, and with mobs of twenty-plus people ambling down narrow paths you’re not getting much work done.

Blackburnian Warbler, Lafitte's Cove, Galveston Island, Texas
Blackburnian Warbler, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. This little bird was about half-starved from its recent trans-Gulf flight. As we watched, it stumbled around feverishly in the vegetation gobbling up as many caterpillars as it could find. At one point, it even lost its balance and tumbled from a branch! Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

The love: On April 9, we visited Lafitte’s Cove and saw American Redstart, Black and White, Hooded, Kentucky, Blue-winged, and Worm-eating Warblers along with Scarlet and Summer Tanagers, Blue and Rose-breasted Grosbeaks, Indigo Buntings, and White-eyed and Red-eyed Vireos. Thrushes were common: We saw and identified the Veery and Wood Thrush, although Swainson’s Thrushes were also likely present. These recent encounters revealed a truth: Thrushes (along with Ovenbirds) represent a photographic challenge I’ve not yet mastered. Birds of this sort hop around and probe for food in nooks and crannies of the the dark understory and, at best, appear in broken light only . . . They are tough subjects.

Veery, Lafitte's Cove, Galveston Island, Texas
Veery Gloomy, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

April 23 was a good day at the Cove. We saw many birds including Golden-winged, Blue-winged, Worm-eating, and Blackburnian Warblers. Summer and Scarlet Tanagers, and Rose-breasted Grosbeaks were also around. The following morning was a bust, though. The sky was a blown-out white, and the birds were in hiding. At one point, a Golden-winged and Blackburnian Warbler flew right over my head, but disappeared immediately into the brush and sky, respectively, never to be seen again . . . .

Wood Thrush, Lafitte's Cove, Galveston Island, Texas
Shadow Dweller: Wood Thrush, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

The hate: Construction on I-45 between Houston and Galveston has been going on at least since the early 90’s when I arrived in Texas. Construction is now permanent and creates catastrophic, hellish traffic jams from which there is no escape.

On our last trip back (April 24) from Lafitte’s Cove, I noticed a sign that read: HIGHWAY CLOSED AHEAD. It took a minute for that to sink in. It’s simply not possible to close I-45 without warning, is it? It would be apocalyptic. We had just traveled the same highway south a few hours before, and there was no indication of impending doom. In a matter of minutes we were in a sea of bumper-to-bumper traffic that stretched as far as the eye could see. Luckily we just barely managed to exit, and with Elisa deftly navigating with her smart phone we found ourselves on side streets (also jammed with cars). At one point I glanced up to find I was crossing Kobayashi Road. My mind reeled. Apparently I was about to face my own Kobayashi Maru scenario. Looking both ways for Klingon battle cruisers, I drove on . . . . .

Despite being only 45 miles from our house, the only solution to the current Lafitte’s Cove logistics nightmare, I fear, is to treat the sanctuary as if were a far-away destination. We must drive down in the wee hours, book a room for a few days (at inflated Galveston prices), and then drive back in the wee hours. Expletive deleted.

White-eyed Vireo, Lafitte's Cove, Galveston Island, Texas
White-eyed Vireo, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Their beautiful lilting song gives away the presence of White-eyed Vireos. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4 TC). Natural light.

©2016 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

Birding East End, Galveston, Texas Just got Better!

Life is a little like a message in a bottle, to be carried by the winds and the tides.–Gene Tierney

Greater Yellowlegs, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas
Greater Yellowlegs in Outflow of Nascent Tidal Channel, East End, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

In January, while walking down the beach on the East End of Galveston Island, Texas I noticed a new tidal channel that blocked my progress south. I was annoyed because I was wearing hiking shoes and not boots as I should have been. But I noticed that the outflow (it was low tide) was attracting Lesser and Greater Yellowlegs that were picking small fish and invertebrates from the gently flowing water. I didn’t think much of where the water was coming from and pressed on south along the beach (with wet feet).

Reddish Egret in tidal channel, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas
Early Morning Reddish Egret in Tidal Channel, East End, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

In early April, we again visited the area and found that the tidal channel had grown greatly and now penetrated a lagoon that is typically a pretty good spot to bird, although the light can be challenging. I am referring to the lagoon just south of the parking area and east (seaward side) of Bodekker Road, kitty-corner from the East End Lagoon Preserve.

With the penetration of the new tidal channel, however, the lagoon now drains at low tide. Parallel to the long axis of the lagoon, on the landward side, runs a riprap and concrete levee that crabbers frequent. As the lagoon drains, water seeps through the levee from slightly higher elevation creating little trickles and streams. This change has created a birding wonderland for one simple reason: It has produced a diversity of microenvironments within a small area. Red-breasted Mergansers now fish in the deeper parts. Avocets, yellowlegs, White Ibises, Willets, and dowitchers hunt and fish in the slightly shallower areas. Sandpipers scamper across emergent rippled surfaces. Tiny differences in water depth and flow really seem to make a difference to foraging shorebirds.

We planned to explore this spot again the following week, but when we arrived we noticed that yahoos had taken over so we pressed on to Lafitte’s Cove. It was clear, however, that the tidal channel had expanded, and even though it was nearly high tide, the area was very birdy. We drew up plans to visit again at low tide. We hoped to visit again on the morning of April 17, to check channel status but a storm tide was inundating the coast. The next day, of course, a series of catastrophic storms hit the Gulf Coast in general and the Houston area in particular. I hope this recent bout of stormy weather doesn’t remodel the East End area too much. At the end of April, low tides will fall in the evening, and we plan on visiting this area again for some golden hour photography.

White Ibis in Breeding Colors with blue crab, East End, Galveston Island, Texas
Crabbing White Ibises in Breeding Color, East End, Galveston Island, Texas. Before the lagoon was penetrated by the tidal channel, water depth in the lagoon remained fairly uniform, regardless of tides. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

A simple walk on the beach reveals a great truth: A diversity of habitat means a diversity of wildlife. As humans continue to pulverize and homogenize the planet, life around us disappears—half of all songbirds and many shorebirds in my lifetime, for example. One little patch of tidal zone on the end of a barrier island in the Gulf of Mexico illustrates this principle perfectly.

@2016 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

Amazing Anhingas: Misunderstood Birds

Anhingas may spread their wings when underwater to lure fish into the shade their wings create, a hunting technique known as “canopy-feeding” that is also used by herons standing over the water.—Brinkley and Humann (2013)

Sunning Female Anhinga, Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas
Sunning Female Anhinga, Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Note the preen/uropygial gland above the tail. Canon EOS 50D/100-400mm f/4.5-5.6L IS. Hand-held. Natural light.

Like cormorants, Anhingas can sometimes be seen, wings spread, drying their feathers on live trees and dead logs in or near water. Also like cormorants, Anhingas are skilled underwater fishers, and lucky observers can sometimes see these birds paddling past with fish. Anhingas, though, have sharp, dagger-like bills that they use as spears rather than meat hooks to snag.

Many a time I have waited patiently for an Anhinga to re-emerge after a dive—but they are only slightly more predictable than Pied-billed Grebes, and with or without prey, they are difficult to photograph while swimming past with their jerky, bobbing head motions.

While seeming like resident birds at places like Brazos Bend State Park, Texas Anhingas actually do migrate along the coast in the U.S., and to an extent, inland during summer.

Internet sources are riddled with “facts” about Anhingas that can be refuted by simple observation. These birds, for example, are said to lack preen glands, which is plainly not the case. They are also said to be unable to fly (or at best are poor flyers) with wet plumage, which is nonsense as they can often be seen taking off from the surface of water.

Male Anhinga, Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas
Portrait: Male Anhinga, Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

Anhingas are said to have feathers that saturate with water because of a lack of oils in the feathers. Brinkley and Humann (2013) indicated that this is not the case, however. Rather than lacking oils, the feathers have a fine structure that permits the penetration of water, resulting in low buoyancy and permitting a low swimming and fishing profile.

Portrait: Female Anhinga, Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas
Portrait: Female Anhinga, Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Note the fine crenulations on the beak (“serrations” of some authors) with tufts of feathers from grooming. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

There is also much speculation about what Anhingas are up to when they are sunning themselves. Personally, I think it has to do with thermal physiology and grooming. After a big meal meal, Anhingas will climb from the water and sun themselves. Perhaps the warmth of the sun will speed the chemistry of digestion. Often they will also preen themselves by dipping their beaks into their preen glands and comb through their feathers with their oiled, finely crenulated beaks to keep plumage in fine aerodynamic and hydrodynamic condition.

The northeast corner of 40-acre Lake is a good spot to observe Anhingas spearfishing. Sometimes, if you look down into the water from the levee between 40-acre and Pliant Lakes, you can see them silently submarine past. This summer, from time to time, I plan to park myself here, perhaps seated on the bench, and try to improve my collection of Anhinga images.

Anhinga with speared bass, 4-acre Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas
Blue-green Waterscape: Male Anhinga with Speared (Smallmouth?) Bass, 40-acre Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Any reader confirmation or refutation of my identification of this fish would be appreciated. This fish was too large to consume while in the water lest it escape, and the bird dragged it onto an island to eat. After swallowing the fish, this bird swam to the levee and began sunning. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Reference

Brinkley, Edward S., and Humann, Alec. 2013. Darters (Anhinga) in Elphick, C., Dunning, John B., Jr., Sibley, D. A. The Sibley Guide to Bird Life and Behavior. Alfred A. Knopf, New York. 588 p.

©2016 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.