A man’s interest in a single bluebird is worth more than a complete but dry list of the fauna and flora of a town.–Henry David Thoreau
Cordilleran Flycatcher, Beaver Meadows, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado. This Empidonax flycatcher can be recognized by its teardrop-shaped extended eye-ring. The two secondary catchlights in the eye are not from a flash, but rather (presumably) internal reflections of the sun within the eyeball. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
This week’s Houston Audubon Nature Photography Association (HANPA) meeting was a summer vacation show-and-tell. The association is in recess during the summer swelter, so members brought images collected during their summer vacations to share with the group. The theme we chose to explore was images of species we had perhaps seen (or perhaps not), but never photographed well before this summer.
Warbling Vireo, Beaver Meadows, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado. A group of these birds was singing and calling from a stand of aspen trees on the edge of Beaver Meadows. We also saw and photographed them gathering nesting materials. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
We’re not the kind of birders who keep life lists, but we know when we see or photograph a species for the first time. Pyrrhuloxias, Yellow-breasted Chats, and Stellar’s Jays are common birds that we have seen many times in the West, but achieved reasonable images of for the the first time this summer.
Notable species completely new to us from this summer’s trips to Big Bend NP and Rocky Mountain NP included the Cordilleran Flycatcher, Varied Bunting, Warbling Vireo, White-tailed Ptarmigan, Hairy Woodpecker, and Williamson’s Sapsucker.
Although we think we got some pretty nice images, it’s always a little troubling to photograph birds on vacation simply because we never feel as though we have had enough time to really do the birds justice. Thoughts tend to run like: If I just had another day, I could have gotten the Hairy Woodpecker shot of my dreams! But alas, vacation is fleeting, and it’s soon time to get back to the grind.
Stellar’s Jay, Beaver Meadows, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado. These are common, suspicious birds. Usually when they see us they take off and fly away immediately (Is it something I said?). Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
In the empire of desert, water is the king and shadow is the queen.―Mehmet Murat ildan
Say’s Phoebe, Basin, Big Bend National Park, Texas. On many occasions while photographing in the desert, inquisitive Say’s Phoebes have come to investigate what I was doing. Several almost landed on me. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Tyrant Flycatchers and kin (Family Tyrannidae) are among the most charming of birds with their curiosity and sallying hunting style. On our recent visit to Big Bend National Park, we found flycatchers everywhere, in all habitats. Small flocks of Say’s Phoebes were especially prominent around the buildings and parking areas of the Chisos Mountains Lodge and the undeveloped areas nearby. The lodge, being at an elevation of about 5400 feet, is near the upper altitude limit for these birds.
Olive-sided Flycatcher, Sam Nail Ranch, Big Bend National Park, Texas. Although flycatcher species are often extremely hard to tell part, some have features that allow them to be readily distinguished from the others. Some birders, for example, say Olive-sided Flycatchers seem to be be wearing a “vest.” Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
At the low altitude abandoned ranches we saw a greater diversity of flycatchers than at altitude. Many individual birds were extremely difficult to identify–even if perched in plain sight! Forget about those lurking in the shadows! Ash-throated Flycatchers, though, were likely the most abundant and seemed to be just about everywhere at low elevation. We spotted the unmistakable Vermilion Flycatcher at several such localities including the Rio Grande Valley Campgrounds and Daniels Ranch–so it wasn’t always an ID guessing game!
Male Vermilion Flycatcher at Dawn, Rio Grande Village, Big Bend National Park, Texas. Most birds migrate, and Vermilion Flycatchers are no exception. However, in North America many of these flycatchers winter along the Gulf Coast and breed to the west of their winter range in the Southwest U.S. and Mexico, rather than to the north. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural Light.
Of all the identification puzzlements afflicting birding, the Empidonax flycatchers take the cake. Widely regarded as “nearly indistinguishable” visually, birders must rely on song (aided by distribution) to confidently identify some of these species. But what if the birds are not singing? Well . . . I guess one must learn to live with uncertainty.
The bird below, for example, would seem to be a Willow Flycatcher. Given the ranges of Willow Flycatcher subspecies, that would likely make this bird a member of the Southwestern race, Empidonax triallii extimus, a federally-listed endangered subspecies. I invite comment from readers who wish to confirm or deny my tentative identification, though.
Willow Flycatcher(?), Sam Nail Ranch, Big Bend National Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
And while I stood there I saw more than I can tell and I understood more than I saw; for I was seeing in a sacred manner the shapes of all things in the spirit, and the shape of all shapes as they must live together like one being.–Black Elk
Female Williamson’s Sapsucker at Nest Cavity in Aspen Tree, Upper Beaver Meadows, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
This is the first of a series of posts about Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado, and the first Two Shutterbirds post ever prepared completely in the field–writing, editing, researching, and photo-processing. Usually when we take an extended birding trip we prepare and schedule posts ahead of time. The Houston flood several weeks ago left us so nonplussed that we were unable to “act naturally,” so to speak. In any case, here goes . . . .
If you are religious and want to see what the world was like before the Fall, come to Upper Beaver Meadows. If you are of a more scientific mindset and want to see what North America looked like when the first Paleo-Indians crossed Beringia, come to Upper Beaver Meadows. This place is a paradise in late spring and summer–the air is filled with the songs of Pine Siskins, Warbling Vireos, and House Wrens . . . .
Elisa’s Field Notes:
What a welcome change of scenery! There is nothing like an open wilderness trail stretching out before you in the morning light (especially in contrast to the post-flood flotsam- and jetsam-strewn streets at home). The only sign of human activity was this little footpath and within a few steps, I was transported. The anticipation of discovery co-mingled with the effects of high altitude had me dizzy but determined. Our first exploration was sans-camera as we were still adjusting to the altitude—we traveled from near sea level to around 8,300 feet in less than 24 hours. But, by day 2, we were on the job.
Adventure Beckons, Upper Beaver Meadows, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado. Canon EOS 7D/Tokina 11-16mm f/2.8. Natural light.
West of the trail is a creek surrounded by moist bottomlands and associated aspen groves which give way to mixed conifer woodlands upland to the east. Further along the trail, rocky granitic outcrops dot the slopes that slowly rise as you enter the valley. We followed the trail through the valley about a half of a mile to a small aspen grove with a horse-hitch landmark.
In this one-half mile alone, we encountered a soul-soothing diversity of wildlife. Young ground squirrel pups scurried underfoot as American Tree Swallows swooped and dived for flying insects above. A Yellow-bellied Marmot looked on dispassionately as we delighted in watching a House Wren bring insects to its cavity nest. A Wild Turkey tom strutted and called to his seemingly disinterested hen and then gobbled at us as we passed by. A fledgling Lincoln’s Sparrow begged atop a fallen tree while a mated pair of Williamson’s Sapsuckers traded nestling duties overhead inside an aspen trunk. The most charming encounter perhaps was with a decidedly curious and rambunctious Long-tailed Weasel which kept poking his head up through the brush to have a look at us.
Mornin’ Jim. A Yellow-bellied Marmot scrutinizes early morning birders along the Upper Beaver Meadows Trail, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
It’s more than a little ironic that we chose to leave the productivity imperative of our workaday life behind only to immerse ourselves in the peak productivity of nature’s biological imperative. That imperative is never more evident than now, as we approach the summer solstice. Nature runs on sunlight and on vacation, we run on nature. We wouldn’t have it any other way!
Crane flies for breakfast again!? A House Wren with a mouthful of crane flies most likely destined for nestlings. Upper Beaver Meadows Trail, Rocky Mountain National Park, CO. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Chris’s Field Notes:
As our basic reference we are using the excellent Birding Rocky Mountain National Park by Scott Roederer. Based on the book, we chose Upper Beaver Meadows as our first port of call.
Botanically, the wet valley floor is dominated by willows, aspen, and grasses. Upslope from this are grassy meadows sprinkled with wildflowers (Golden Banner being most prominent with Indian Paintbrush and Larkspur providing splashes of additional color) transition upward into conifer-dominated forests.
Although the range of temperatures was pleasant, the weather was challenging for photography, with nearly constantly changing illumination most days. Clouds and rain came and went throughout most days, also. According to locals, this has been an exceptionally cold and wet spring. For future reference, this June was probably more like a typical May.
Pygmy Nuthatches, Upper Beaver Meadows, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado. These birds were near their nest cavity. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
In late spring and summer, Upper Beaver Meadows is cavity nesting central, mostly in Aspen and Ponderosa Pines. I saw House Wrens, Pygmy Nuthatches, Williamson’s and Red-naped Sapsuckers, Mountain Bluebirds, Violet-green and American Tree Swallows, and Northern Flickers (Red-shafted) in cavity nests in riparian habitats along Beaver Brook in the valley floor. I also saw Western Wood-pewees, White-breasted Nuthatches, and Hairy Woodpeckers here, but not in cavities.
All in all, a fantastic trip, and it will take months to sort through all the images. Frankly, Upper Beaver Meadows constitutes, in my mind, one of the best birding spots I’ve ever visited. Likely this area will be a place we visit over and over again–like Cave Creek and Santa Ana.
Larkspur (Delphinium sp.). Upper Beaver Meadows, Rocky Mountains National Park, Colorado. Canon EOS 7D/100mm f/2.8L IS. High-speed synchronized ring-flash.
It is always during a passing state of mind that we make lasting resolutions.—Marcel Proust
Singing Marsh Wren in Winter at the Freeport Wetlands Nature Trail and Bird Observatory, Texas. Male Marsh Wrens start imitating songs at 15 days old and continue learning new songs into and throughout adulthood. Could this little guy be practicing his repertoire for a return to his breeding grounds and Courtship 2015? Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Elisa’s Resolution. I absolutely love welcoming in a New Year! I love the “fresh start” feeling—artificial though it may be. I’m also a sucker for an annual plan (I’m the first-born: It’s not my fault!), but only as a scaffold for investigation, adventure, and inspiration. I don’t really DO traditional resolutions because, well, life happens. However, in recognition of flipping the page on the ol’ Gregorian calendar, there are a few beams I’d like to add to the birding and blogging scaffold this year. In the spirit of our friend the Marsh Wren, I plan to get serious about learning more bird songs and to share my experiences in the field more often. If you’re a regular reader, you know that I am an infrequent contributor. (Frequently behind the lens, but not so much the keyboard.) Thankfully, Chris holds down an excellent fort, and hopefully, I’ll lighten his load a bit more this year.
Chris’s Resolution. With the new year comes a time of reflection and goal-setting. When I started the bird photography hobby, I thought of the camera primarily as a tool to better learn birds and document what I saw in the field. But photography, like many technical pursuits, has a way of taking on a life of it’s own. A perusal of the major digital photography blogs, for example, will show how pixel-peeping and endless hand-wringing about high-ISO noise and yadda-yadda-yadda can bleed the life right out of the birding-by-camera hobby (and which is better Canon or Nikon?). I guess gadget-talk is more amenable to the American norm of sowing insecurities to peddle a fix and turn a buck, but I want to get back to birds! I resolve to pick up the ornithology references more and the photography references less. Maybe, once and a while, I’ll leave the 600mm ball-and-chain behind and only take along the binoculars and a notebook (and most important of all—Elisa!).
Snow Geese in V-Formation over Freeport Wetlands, Texas. The V shape greatly reduces drag force on the skein, making long-distance migrations energetically feasible. It’s all about turbulent flow! Note the nearly even split of white and blue phases (morphs). The ratio of color morphs varies from colony to colony. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
“I am an old man now, and when I die and go to heaven there are two matters on which I hope for enlightenment. One is quantum electrodynamics, and the other is the turbulent motion of fluids. And about the former I am rather optimistic.”–Horace Lamb
Gila Woodpecker at Cavity Nest in Saguaro, Saguaro National Park, Arizona. We stopped briefly at this majestic park between visits to Madera Canyon and Cave Creek Canyon. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
It’s time, once again, to reflect on the most recent year in the field. As always, we focused on birds doing what they do. Please take a look!
Juvenile Great Egrets caught in a “Muppet moment.” Given this image alone, you might conjure up images of the sweet and hapless Beaker, from the Muppet Show. Don’t be fooled… Most of the time, these nestlings are engaged in a brutal, continual battle for dominance, especially when the adult returns to the nest with food. The Rookery at Smith Oaks Sanctuary, High Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
For once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skywards, for there you have been and there you will long to return.—Leonardo da Vinci
Acorn Woodpecker Feeding Youngster at Cave Creek Ranch, Portal, Arizona. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
Visiting Cave Creek Ranch in Portal, Arizona, and environs in Cave Creek Canyon for a few days each year has become a Two Shutterbirds birding tradition. We arrive each time hoping to discover or photograph something new or obtain better shots of species we have photographed before. Usually we do see or document things new to us. This July’s visit was no exception.
White-breasted Nuthatchwith Sunflower Seed at Cave Creek Ranch, southeast Arizona. To get this shot, I filled a small cavity with seed in the exposed roots of a tree just outside our cabin. It was less than an hour before a jar of nuthatches found the cache. I happily sat still as they flew in, hopped down the trunk, and grabbed a sunflower seed before posing briefly for a picture! Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
At Cave Creek, we spend days exploring places like Barfoot Park, South Fork, and the Vista trail—trying to include a mix of new and familiar locales. Because the terrain can often be steep, these are typically pure birding trips (binoculars or, at most, small glass only). This July, Hermit Thrushes, Western Wood-Pewees, and Sulphur-bellied Flycatchers were the most commonly encountered birds at lower elevations, and Yellow-eyed Juncos predominated at higher ones. In the evenings, once we were beat, and upon return to the ranch, we sometimes spent a few hours hanging around shooting the numerous birds that visit the seed and nectar feeders.
Blue-throated Hummingbird at Cave Creek Ranch, Portal, Arizona. These are the largest hummingbirds you’re likely to see at Cave Creek, or anywhere in North America—unless you’re lucky enough to see a Magnificent or Plain-capped Starthroat! Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
Seed feeders at Cave Creek Ranch attract large numbers of House Finches, Lesser Goldfinches, Mexican Jays, and Acorn Woodpeckers. Occasionally a White-Breasted Nuthatch, Ladder-backed Woodpecker, Arizona Cardinal, Hepatic or Summer Tanager, or Curve-billed Thrasher showed up as we watched. In the thickets along the road behind the office we saw Cassin’s Kingbirds, Black Phoebes, and Canyon and Bewick’s Wrens. At the nectar feeders, Black-chinned and Broad-billed Hummingbirds predominated. We saw a few Blue-throated and a single Anna’s Hummingbird. Another birder saw a single Violet-crowned Hummingbird, but Chris was looking the other way. A lifer missed by a fraction of a second! A Plain-capped Starthroat was reported in the area (we saw one a few days earlier in Madera Canyon). Without exaggeration, Cave Creek Canyon is a magical place, and place not to be missed by anyone interested in birds or nature.
South Wall of the Entrance to Cave Creek Canyon at Dusk. The mouth of the canyon opens into the Chihuahuan Desert. Canon 7D/Tokina 11-16mm. Natural light.
Tradition is a guide and not a jailer.—W. Somerset Maugham
Poets say science takes away from the beauty of the stars – mere globs of gas atoms. I, too, can see the stars on a desert night, and feel them. But do I see less or more?—Richard P. Feynman
Male Costa’s Hummingbird at the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum. Aviary bird. The Tucson area is near the eastern extremity of this hummingbird’s summer breeding range. From many angles his gorget appears blackish, but during courtship the male Costa’s is sure to direct brilliant violet rays toward potential mates! Canon EOS 7D/100-400mm f/4.5-5.6L IS. Hand-held, high-speed synchronized fill-flash.
The Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum is an interesting and highly recommended institution nestled within Saguaro National Park. Composed of zoo, botanical garden, nature park, wildlife refuge, and natural history museum, the 21-acre campus blends into the surrounding Sonoran Desert. Some animals are free to come and go as they please, and others are captive.
According to museum literature, the hummingbird aviary contains up to seven species. On the day we visited it contained only four: Anna’s, Costa’s, Black-chinned, and Broad-billed. Because Black-chinned and Broad-billed are common in the areas we bird, we focused our attention primarily on Anna’s and Costa’s.
Male Anna’s Hummingbird at the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum. Aviary bird. Canon EOS 7D/300mm f/4L IS. Natural light.
The covered aviary made for a weird, muted light in which it was difficult to capture the iridescent colors of male humming bird gorgets. Because these colors are the result of the physical optics of the feathers, not pigmentation, getting the colors to show well depends on the spatial relationship between light source(s), bird, and camera. On the whole, shooting hummingbirds in the aviary was a bit unsettling: We are used to hummers being will-o’-the-wisps, and free to wander.
Quizzical Verdin on Desert Willow at the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum. Wild bird. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
We also saw a variety of wild desert birds. Cactus Wrens and White-winged Doves were the most common and were seen singing on saguaros and other plants. Verdin, Phainopepla, and Gila Woodpeckers were also about. Some Ash-throated Flycatchers and Gambel’s Quail made brief appearances.
Gila Woodpecker on Saguaro at the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum. Wild bird. Gila Woodpeckers nest in cavities excavated within saguaros. Many woodpeckers were raising families while we visited the Southwest, and we often saw parents bringing fruit and insects home to young. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
The Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum also boasts an impressive assortment of desert plants. A number of species were in bloom including fishhook barrel cactus, red yucca, a variety of legumes, and the spectacular red bird-of-paradise (Caesalpinia pulcherrina), a naturalized native of the Neotropics. Some saguaros were in bloom, but coming to the end of their flowering season.
Fishhook Barrel Cactus(Ferocactus sp. ) flowers at the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum. Canon EOS 7D/100mm f/2.8L IS macro. Hand-held, high-speed synchronized ring-flash.
Our visit to the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum brought up many philosophical issues about the place of nature in a human-dominated landscape. We have hinted at some of these issues before, but Elisa hopes to explore them more deeply in future writings.
Preening Broad-billed Hummingbird at Madera Canyon, southeast Arizona. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
For Upper Texas Gulf Coast birding there comes a summer tipping point where the pain outweighs the gain. By about late July, it’s tough to justify going out birding with the bugs, sweltering weather, yahoos, and low diversity of birds. What to do . . . ?
It’s time for a road trip! This time around we visited Franklin Mountains State Park (West Texas), and several places in southeast Arizona including Saguaro National Park, Arizona Sonoran Desert Museum, Cave Creek, and Madera Canyon, a classic North American birding destination in the Coronado National Forest.
Southeast Arizona lies within one of the three northward-extending prongs of tropical biodiversity that extend into the U.S., the others reaching Big Bend and the Lower Rio Grande Valley. Madera Canyon, one of the major birding hotspots within this Arizona prong, is on the northwest side of the Santa Rita Mountains, a Madrean Sky Island, about 25 miles south of Tucson.
Madera Canyon cuts largely through granitic rocks and passes through four major life zones, from Lower Sonoran in the blistering valley floor to cooler Canadian at the top, and ranges from about 3600 to over 9400 feet in elevation. At 9453 feet Mount Wrightson crowns the canyon.
Shady Character. Painted Redstarts are common on the trails in Madera Canyon, Arizona in July. They prefer to sing, hunt, and preen under shaded cover, so it was quite a challenge to capture a usable image! Luckily, we saw this bird early on the hike, and my hand was still steady. Canon EOS 7D/300mm f4L IS. Hand-held with natural light, ISO 800, f/5.6; 1/100.
For our first visit to Madera Canyon we stayed for three days at the Santa Rita Lodge. The lodge is centrally located with hiking trails above and below in elevation. The feeders near the office were often thick with birds. Lesser Goldfinches, House Finches, White-winged Doves, and Mourning Doves predominated. Black-headed and Blue Grosbeaks, Arizona and Acorn Woodpeckers, Hepatic Tanagers, Bridled Titmice, and American Turkeys visited sporadically. Hummingbirds were abundant. Black-chinned and Broad-billeds predominated. A few Rufous and a single Plain-capped Starthroat visited while we watched. A Canyon and Bewick’s Wren appeared briefly. White-eared Hummingbirds were reported in the area, but unfortunately we didn’t see them. Mexican Jays were common around the lodge in general.
On the Nature Trail, flycatchers, especially Ash-throated and Western Wood-Pewees predominated. Elisa was lucky to see a Western Wood-Peewee nest with nestlings. Painted Redstarts were common, and we caught several possible glimpses of Flame-colored Tanagers. Just south of the lodge we were treated to a Whiskered Screech Owl roosting in a cavity in a large sycamore tree.
The look-out. A Hermit Thrush eyes a couple of primates walking through the woods in Madera Canyon, Arizona. Canon EOS 7D/300mm f4L IS. Hand-held with natural light, ISO 800, f/5.6; 1/160.
On the Carrie Nation Mine Trail, we saw Ash-throated, Western Wood-Peewee, Black Phoebe, and Sulphur-bellied Flycatchers, Yellow-eyed Juncos, Hermit Thrushes, Black-throated Gray Warblers, Painted Redstarts. Elisa saw a single Red-faced Warbler.
On the last morning, we hiked the Bog Springs Trail where we saw mated pairs of Hepatic Tanagers, in one case gathering nesting materials.
Mud-puddling. This Two-tailed Swallowtail (Arizona’s state butterfly) is drinking nutrient-rich water from a mud puddle along the nature trail in Madera Canyon, Arizona. During the encounter, which lasted about 10 minutes, I observed it drink continuously and excrete excess fluid from its abdomen every 15-30 seconds. Mud-puddling allows butterflies and other insects to obtain essential mineral salts and amino acids. Canon EOS 7D/300 mm f4L IS. Hand-held in natural light, ISO 500, f/9; 1/400.
Our visit to Madera Canyon drove home one central point: There is a significant difference between birding and bird photography. In some of the places we visited, it would have required a herculean effort to haul the super telephotos up into the canyon. In those instances, we just broke out the binoculars and smaller glass and enjoyed the views or photographed flowers, insects, or reptiles.
Next time: Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum. Female Phainopepla. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
The mountains are calling and I must go.—John Muir
@2014 Christopher R. Cunningham and Elisa D. Lewis. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.
Buff-bellied Hummingbird(Amazilia yucatanensis), Casa Santa Ana, Rio Grande Valley, Texas. Four species of Amazilia hummingbirds occur in the U.S. Only the Buff-bellied is common. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC): f/8, ISO 640; 1/1000. High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
Chris’s Field Notes: We just returned from a three-day birding adventure in the Lower Rio Grande Valley (RGV) in the vicinity of Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge and Estero Llano Grande State Park. We stayed at Casa Santa Ana, adjacent to the wildlife refuge—highly recommended for the hospitality and birding the extensive grounds. Although the heat, humidity, and biting insects (not to mention chiggers) tested our resolve, we saw a number of new species and obtained nice (or at least better than we had!) shots of some Valley specialities, essentially Mexican species with ranges that barely extend into South Texas in summer.
Birds notable for us included: Buff-bellied Hummingbird, Groove-billed Ani, Clay-colored Robin, Northern Beardless-Tyrannulet, Altamira and Hooded Oriole, Couch’s Kingbird, Olive Sparrow, and Brown-crested Flycatcher. Nests and young birds were everywhere. I saw one adult male Black-chinned Hummingbird at Estero Llano Grande State Park (at the extreme southern extent of their summer range). Although we explored significant wetlands, including some with profuse amphibians (leopard frogs), waders were rare (strangely it seemed), compared to the Upper Texas Gulf Coast. I witnessed a display by the male Bronzed Cowbird. The bird was on a low branch overhanging a path at Santa Ana NWR when it lowered its head, roused its feathers, and flapped its wings while making whistling, buzzing, and clicking sounds. Spectacular.
The Tamaulipan mezquital ecoregion through which the Rio Grande winds is a harsh place in the summer. Scattered trees, often mesquite and “acacia” surrounded by grasses and low shrubs predominate. Shade is usually incomplete. Mosquitos were not a significant problem, but other types of biting (and bottle) flies abound. Dragonflies like Roseate Skimmer (Orthemis ferruginea) and Band-winged Dragonlet (Erythrodiplax umbrata) were profuse and offered many photographic opportunities. I didn’t see many mammals, only one Southern Plains Woodrat (Neotoma micropus). Lizards were abundant, especially the Rose-bellied Lizard (Sceloporus variabilis). White skies due to high humidity often made photography difficult. Many times I had a bead on an interesting bird only to have a dazzlingly white cloud drift in behind and ruin the shot. All in all, an amazing place, and I can’t wait to get back during cooler weather.
Groove-billed Ani at Casa Santa Ana, Rio Grande Valley, Texas. That big heavy bill gives the impression of a seed-eater. Anis do eat fruit, nuts, and seeds, but the bulk of their diet consists of arthropods. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC): f/8, ISO 800; 1/640. Natural light.This Clay-colored Robin made several fiber-gathering trips to this back-yard garden palm tree. Canon EOS 7D/500 mm f/4L IS USM (+1.4x TC): f/5.6, ISO 500; 1/100. Natural light.
Elisa’s Field Notes: This was our first late spring/early summer visit to the Lower RGV, and I hoped that the effort (in defiance of the heat!) would yield many observations of nesting, nestlings, fledglings, etc. I was not disappointed! With excellent summer birding in our own Gulf Coast backyard, we see quite a bit of bird family life, but mostly of the waterbird persuasion. During our short trip into Texas’ subtropical scrubland, I was able to spot White-eyed Vireo, Long-billed Thrasher, Plain Chachalaca, Golden-fronted Woodpecker, and Altamira Oriole juveniles just beginning to make it on their own. Our timing was rewarding in other ways, too. We essentially had the refuge and the park to ourselves! Our host mentioned that anyone who was “out here at this time of year is committed.” I suspect that he might have meant to say that we should be committed!
I was also charmed by the abundance of nests and nesting behavior. Oriole nests, in particular, are standouts. I saw the Altamira Oriole pictured below fly directly into the nest as it swung and bobbed in the wind. It must be somewhat like living in a small boat out at sea. Altamira Oriole nests are typically woven to a fork of a tree branch and, sometimes, to a telephone wire as we saw outside of the state park. I wonder if building the nest so far from stable branches is one way to make your nest more inaccessible to predators . . . Regardless, as an amateur fiber artist, any creature that weaves or works with fiber is OK by me!
An Altimira Oriole emerges from its nest of grasses woven onto the branches of a mesquite tree at Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS USM (+1.4x TC): f/6.3, ISO 640; 1/2500. Natural light.
What dreadful hot weather we have! It keeps me in a continual state of inelegance.—Jane Austen
Although Bigtooth Maple flowers attract the attention of bees and flies alike, they depend on the wind for pollination. The flowers, which bloom alongside emerging leaves in spring, are unisexual. Can you tell if these flowers are male or female? (Answer: The prominent stamens with the large yellow anthers full of pollen indicate that these are male flowers.) Canon EOS 7D/100mm f/2.8L Macro IS. Hand-held. High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
They say that timing is everything. For birders whose getaways are tied to school holidays, the timing of spring break is usually too early for spring migration. Not this year! With the deciduous trees just starting to put out new growth, Spring Break 2014 was timed perfectly for birding Lost Maples State Natural Area on the Edward’s Plateau of Central Texas.
Our goal was to see and photograph male Golden-cheeked Warblers (which typically arrive in Central Texas around March 10th) singing in the treetops before the trees were completely leafed-out. We heard many Golden-cheeked Warblers, but got only a few ID shots. The trip was a success for other reasons, however, in part due to the generosity of Richard Redmond of the Texas Ornithological Society who spent a day with us and shared his vast knowledge of Hill Country birds and birding techniques, especially tracking target birds by their songs . . .
Singing in the Shadows: White-eyed Vireo at Lost Maples SNA, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Two Trips in One
When we go birding together, we often end up birding apart. Different things catch our eyes and ears, and so we end up with unique take-aways on the same get-away. In this spirit, we decided to share our Lost Maples birding experience “he said, she said” style.
Female Spotted Towhee at Lost Maples SNA, Texas. This colorful bird spends much of her day in the brush pile near the observation blind. Lost Maples is in the winter range of this species. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
Chris’s Field Notes
The most abundant species observed were Chipping and Rufous-crowned Sparrows, Black-crested Titmice, and Black-chinned Hummingbirds, but I also saw White-eyed and Yellow-throated Vireos (and also caught the merest glimpse of a Hutton’s Vireo), Black and White, Orange-crowned, Louisiana Waterthrush, and Yellow-throated Warblers. Other highlights included a male Scott’s Oriole, a pair of Canyon Wrens, and a nest-sitting Great Horned Owl and Red-tailed Hawk. Wildflowers were on the sparse side, but Agarita and Bigtooth Maple were in bloom . . . . My couch-potato Houston Flatlander lifestyle didn’t help tackling those canyon trails hauling 30lbs of photographic equipment, but I came back invigorated and looking forward to the next trip.
Male Black-chinned Hummingbird at Lost Maples SNA, Texas showing specular reflection and structural color. Black-chinned Hummingbirds were thick around the feeders near the observation blind. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized flash.
Elisa’s Field Notes
If it weren’t for our chance encounter with Richard and his experienced ear, I would likely never have seen half the species I observed — many of which were firsts for me including the Golden-cheeked Warbler, the Yellow-throated Vireo, and a far-off-in-the-distance Hutton’s Vireo. This trip, more than any other, clearly illustrated the need to know more birds by ear. Springtime is a great time to study bird songs and, wouldn’t-cha know, there’s an app for that. The bird identification mobile app that I use provides representative vocalizations, but most birds sing more than one tune. After a quick search, I downloaded BirdTunes and found it to be an encyclopedic resource of songs, calls, and scolding vocalizations, with regional variations for most species.
As a visual learner, birding by ear has always been daunting, and I quickly forget which bird sings which song when I don’t see and hear them regularly. On this trip, I developed a strategy that I think will work for the long-term. I characterize the song in a way that I can associate with the bird’s name or identifying feature. For example, the song of the Canyon Wren reminds me of a horse whinny which I associate with canyons and the West. Now when I hear that cascading whinny, I think “canyon” then “Canyon Wren” and look to the rocks to find it.
I was lucky to photograph two species singing on this trip — the vireo near the top of the post and the titmouse included in this spring’s “Image of the Season” sidebar. It bears mentioning that I used the bird song app as a pre-birding and post-birding tool for review and study, and not in the field to attract the birds. If you use recordings in the field, please do so responsibly. Check out the American Birding Association’s Code of Ethics section 1(b) for guidance.
Agarita (Mahonia trifoliolata) is the quintessential hill country plant to me. It’s one of the first plants I was able to reliably identify when learning the flora of Central Texas. After the cheery yellow flowers fade, bright red berries develop among the prickly evergreen leaves. (In case you’re wondering: these flowers are bisexual – each flower has stamens and pistils.) Canon EOS 7D/100mm f/2.8L Macro IS USM. Hand-held. High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring.—George Santayana
Female Wilson’s Phalarope at Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Photo taken in early May. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
In the euphoria surrounding spring migration, it’s sometimes easy to forget that species besides warblers and other colorful songbirds are making their way across the Gulf Coast. Shorebirds are a major component of the spring migration and can really add to the excitement of being in the field in spring. Case in point: the unusual phalaropes.
Phalaropes show a reversal of typical gender roles. The brightly colored females compete for males and migrate shortly after abandoning the nest to the males–which perform all parental duties after the females lay the eggs. Of the three Phalarope species, only the Wilson’s nests in Texas. Rare Texas nesting Wilson’s Phalaropes, however, can only be seen in a few small scattered areas in the Panhandle. Your best bet for seeing Wilson’s Phalaropes (like the other phalarope species) is to spot them during migration.
Last spring we had the luck to spot a few individuals paddling around on one of the ponds at Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island. We did not observe their trademark feeding technique of swimming in a tight circle to form a vortex from which to pluck invertebrate prey, though. Maybe next time.
Immature Wilson’s Phalarope at Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Photo taken in early May. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
In America there are two classes of travel – first class, and with children.—Robert Benchley
