Shadow is a colour as light is, but less brilliant; light and shadow are only the relation of two tones. –Paul Cezanne
Palm Warbler with Pathology or Parasite, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Note the growth directly below the beak. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
We finally made it down to the Coast for the spring songbird migration today. And what a glorious day it was: cool, clear, and windy. There were migrant songbirds around, but they weren’t making it easy on birders . . . .
White-eyed Vireo in the Shadows, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
In the warbler department at Lafitte’s Cove, we saw Yellow, Palm, Audubon’s, Black and White, Black-throated Green, American Redstart, Bay-breasted, and Blackburnian–typical birds for this time and place. Indigo and Painted Buntings were around as were White-eyed Vireos and Black-chinned Hummingbirds. Most of the birds tended to stay in protected areas, out of the wind, though.
Black-throated Green Warbler on Grape Vine, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. These birds are often the most common warblers on the motte at this time of year. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
I spent some time staking out the red mulberry trees with hopes of getting a shot at orioles or tanagers. No luck. Only Northern Mockingbirds, European Starlings, and Gray Catbirds came to sample the fruit. Perhaps it was too windy. The fruit-laden branches were often waving violently.
A Passion for Fruit: Northern Mockingbird on Red Mulberry, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Traces of berry juice can be seen on this bird’s throat. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
For most of the time we were there, a fox squirrel watched, unperturbed and immobile, the comings and going of birds and birders from atop a sunny dead tree-top. Too bad the birds didn’t have the same idea!
Sunbathing Fox Squirrel, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
When, according to habit, I was contemplating the stars in a clear sky, I noticed a new and unusual star, surpassing the other stars in brilliancy. There had never before been any star in that place in the sky.–Tycho Brahe
Portrait Green Heron (Non-breeding), Fiorenza Park, Houston, Texas. Even in non-breeding colors, the Green Heron is a spectacular bird. This heron was standing on the bridge plucking small fish from the water. Canon EOS 5DIII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x). Natural light.Green Heron in Breeding Colors, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Note the violet-blue lores and brilliant orange-red legs and feet. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
The Green Heron may be my favorite wader. This bird is unusual in a number of ways. On the small side (7-9 oz) for North American waders, the Green Heron is brilliantly-colored. The sexes are said to be similar, with females having slightly duller coloration. Immature birds have whitish triangular flecks on the wings and more white around the throat than adults. A number of subspecies are recognized by experts, but some of these are rejected by others. Some Green herons migrate, and others do not. Reportedly these two populations can be distinguished biometrically: the migrating birds have longer wings.
No wader is more fun to watch hunt. Like most North American waders, Green Herons are indiscriminate in their choice of prey: fish, frogs, tadpoles, crayfish, insects, spiders will all do. But their repertoire of hunting behaviors is unsurpassed. They will hang in wait, gargoyle-like, from logs, hide from fish below on tops of lotus pads, or stroll through the weeds like other waders in search of small prey, vertebrate or invertebrate.
Young Green Heron About to Strike, Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.Fruits of the Strike: Young Green Heron with Shad, Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
Most interestingly, Green Herons use tools. They exhibit bait-fishing and have been known to drown air-breathing prey in water before swallowing. I have seen this done with frogs on a number of occasions. Likewise, it is possible (rarely) to see Green Herons bait-fishing by placing aquatic beetles on the surface of the water to attract prey at Elm Lake.
Green Heron with Small Fish, Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Although Green Herons commonly nest across the eastern half of Texas, I usually see Green Herons in non-breeding colors. Only rarely do I see full breeding colors. Green Herons generally do not nest among large wader rookeries as most herons do, but when they do, they tend to nest away from the masses. They will nest in single pairs or in small groups, too.
While Texas Coastal populations will remain for the winter, soon the inland populations will be largely gone for wintering grounds in Mexico and Central America. They will return again next year for the sweltering summer weather.
Stretching Green Heron, Pilant Slough, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Although Green Herons typically walk around with their heads against their bodies, their necks are capable of tremendous extension to grab prey. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
Work out your own salvation. Do not depend on others. –Buddha
October Eastern Phoebe on Hackberry Branch, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light
All of Texas Gulf Coast creation must breathe a collective sigh of relief when the first hint of fall arrives. This time, the first backing-off of the dantesque Texas summer was modest, indeed. l woke to find one day this last week that it was slightly less unpleasant outside. Surely a harbinger of great things.
Autumn Portrait: Great Blue Heron, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x). Natural light.
Despite the fact I’d rather than be almost anywhere other than the Gulf Coast in summer, there is almost no place I’d rather be in winter. The Upper Texas Gulf Coast and Coastal Bend are fantastic when north winds blow. The bays, beaches, barrier islands, and coastal marshes are hopping with life. Fluffy white clouds zip across the sky, the waters sparkle, and you can breathe! Surely we now stand at the brink of the best of times!
Baby Alligators in November, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Only a few months old, these young killers soak up the autumn sun. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
@2018 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.
l want to interpret the natural world and our links to it. It’s driven by the belief of many world-class scientists that we’re in the midst of an extinction crisis… This time it’s us that’s doing it. –Frans Lanting
Portrait: Wood Duck Drake, Albuquerque, New Mexico. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
We were able to get out to get out birding (briefly) this last weekend–we took some time out from furnishing one house and giving another a face-lift. We took a walk around Brazos Bend State Park, binoculars in hand, hoping to run into a friend (RD). It was sweltering. The ground was soggy. The air was not full of bird-sounds–in fact, we were quite shocked by the lack of bird life. Mosquitos ruled.
This lack of avians got me thinking about our current state of affairs, ecologically-speaking. To despair is to read old-timey field accounts of bird-watching from the 1950’s and before. Works like Arizona and its Bird Life by Herbert Brandt (1951) and The Warblers of North America by Griscom and Sprunt (eds.) (1957) describe a world nearly as remote as the Miocene.
American White Pelican in Flight, Fiorenza Park, Houston, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
On this latest trip, I felt like I was looking into the future. Project the current trend twenty five years into the future, and you’ll see what we saw: A world nearly free of birds. It’s hard to come to grips with this, but songbird numbers have dropped by half in my lifetime. Some other groups have suffered even more significant declines. Auks, as we saw in the Pribilofs the summer before last, for example, have been decimated. But the perpetually innocent fishing industry, of course, has nothing to do with this. Welcome to the Anthropocene . . . .
In this terrible future, it’s hard to imagine what I’ll do in the park. Perhaps I’d better bring something to read.
Young White Ibis, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. This bird had a number of parasite-induced growths on its face: Larval insects, perhaps? Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice. –Robert Frost
Parakeet Auklets Battle, St. Paul Island, Pribilof Islands, Alaska. Nesting real estate is at a premium on cliffs frequented by sea birds. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
If given the choice, I’d choose the latter . . . .
The recent uncharacteristic silence has been the result of being ridiculously busy with work and a variety of messy projects. We haven’t been able to work on anything related to photo-birding, except adding a few volumes to our growing ornithology library. And the disgusting dog-days of summer here along the Gulf Coast haven’t made the prospect of being outside very attractive–even if we had the time.
Common Loon Take-off, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. Common Loons fish the deep waters of Offatt’s Bayou in winter. Although you won’t see breeding colors until just before they depart for breeding grounds, Offatt’s Bayou offers the prospect of seeing these birds without having to make a blood sacrifice to the Insecta of the North Country. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
What I have been able to do, though, is fantasize about glorious birding outings in the cold, fresh frosty air in my face. Blow again north winds, blow! Make being outside a joy, again!
Black Rosy-Finch, Sandia Mountains, New Mexico. This difficult-to-see bird can be found on the frozen heights of the Sandia Mountains in winter. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
@2018 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.
Did you ever stop to think, and forget to start again? –A. A. Milne
Male Baltimore Oriole, Quintana Neotropical Bird Sanctuary, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
One of my goals for this summer in Arizona was to go through a lifetime’s worth of debris and discard the worthless junk and organize and store those things we want to keep for the future. One particular challenge was to sort through the old photo gear. We have camera stuff going back to the 1950’s: Equipment inherited from my dad, Elisa’s grandfather and uncle, and all our stuff. Most of it was hurriedly thrown into cardboard boxes in the aftermath of Harvey.
White-eyed Vireo, Laffite’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.Black and White Warbler, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
Going through a pile of obsolete or broken bodies, I found a 32 GB CF card that I had forgotten about. On it were four or five hundred images I had forgotten about, also. Most of the images were Texas Gulf Coast stuff from five or six years ago. Many shots were attempts to deal with the murky and broken light of Texas Gulf Coast barrier island oak mottes during spring migration using flash.
Displaying American Bittern, 40-acre Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
I can almost feel the heat, the air heavy with humidity and the frequent sting of mosquitoes piercing my clothes–so different from the recent adventures featuring the blistering glare and UV fog of high altitude Arizona, but so similar in the sense of possibility of see something new.
Clearly the richness of your life depends upon the richness of your memories. Photography contributes to memory, if only in diverting our minds from the meaningless rubbish of contemporary daily life back to things . . . worth remembering.
Male Boat-tailed Grackle, Corps. Woods, Galveston Island, Texas. Judging by the images around this one, this bird, too, was in the middle of a courtship display. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
We photographers deal in things which are continually vanishing, and when they have vanished there is no contrivance on earth can make them come back again. We cannot develop and print a memory. –Henri Cartier-Bresson
The rain begins with a single drop. –Manal al-Sharif
Drinking Male Gambel’s Quail, Franklin Mountains State Park, West Texas. A drop of precious water runs down this bird’s chin. We recently spotted this fellow just outside El Paso on the way to Arizona. A significant rainstorm hit the evening this photo was taken. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.Find the Water, Find the Birds: Young Curve-billed Thrasher, Franklin Mountains State Park, West Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
I haven’t been spending much time directly behind a super-telephoto lately, but indirectly I have. During the past few weeks, I’ve been clearing brush and selecting sites for photography blinds and set-ups. It is a daunting task that has just begun, but I’ve decided to enjoy the process as much as (hopefully) the result.
We have adopted the firesafe methodology and are clearing dead brush and low limbs near the house. But I have decided to leave a few dead trees here and there adjacent to blind areas for perches. No natural forest is ever going to be completely free of dead vegetation, and its presence is part of the overall aesthetic. Dead vegetation also provides valuable habitat for wildlife.
Apache Plume (Fallugia paradoxa) with Marine Blue Butterfly (Leptotes marina), Cave Creek Canyon, Arizona. Wherever there are flowers in the lower canyon, these small butterflies are present. Canon EOS 5DIII/100mm f/2.8L IS Macro. High-speed synchronized macro ring-flash.
We have also begun to identify trees and other plants with the help of some local experts and references. Desert mountain canyons are home to an incredible diversity of plants and animals. After several previous visits to the Cave Creek Canyon area, and the desert Southwest in general, I find myself being able to identify most of the birds at a glance. No so most of the plants–or the reptiles for that matter (herpetology was many moons ago). At present very few plants are in flower, though, making identification relatively easy.
The remnants of Hurricane Bud brought much needed moisture to the drought-stricken desert Southwest. And a day later there are still a few puddles around Cave Creek, but they will soon be dry, and we will begin again our wait for the true beginning of the monsoon–and the true beginning of our difficulties identifying a bewildering multitude of flowering plants!
Desert Honeysuckle (Anisacanthus thurberi), Cave Creek Canyon, Arizona. The instant I saw this flower, I thought: That has got to be a honeysuckle. Sure enough.Canon EOS 5DIII/100mm f/2.8L IS Macro. High-speed synchronized macro ring-flash.
Courage is fire, and bullying is smoke.–Benjamin Disraeli
Female(?) Rufous Hummingbird, Franklin Mountains State Park, West Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
If Disraeli was correct, then Rufous Hummingbirds are both fire and smoke.
I recently took the time to peruse our collection of images of hummingbirds from the Tom Mays Unit of Franklin Mountains State Park in West Texas. Specifically, I was looking for evidence of the presence of Allen’s Hummingbirds, those little flying gems that are often indistinguishable from Rufous Hummingbirds. One of our field guides shows the migratory range of the Allen’s Hummingbird just barely touching the western extremity of Texas. Maybe . . . . But alas, no Allen’ Hummingbirds were in evidence.
Young Male(?) Rufous Hummingbird, Franklin Mountains State Park, West Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
But Rufous Hummingbirds are common in this desert park. One of the most aggressive of all hummingbirds, the males are known for their spectacular aerial fights–and their ruthless defense of nectar resources. Immatures are often frustratingly difficult to distinguish from females. But young and old, male and female perch, bold as brass, on the yuccas, agaves, desert willows, and ocotillos of the Franklin Mountains.
Counting the days until we can return . . . .
Male Rufous Hummingbird, Franklin Mountains State Park, West Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Messy Eater: Gray Catbird on Mulberry Tree, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. This bird is smeared with mulberry juice–and also appears to have infected feet (bumblefoot?). Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
The recent major cold front has certainly brought some fantastic weather to the Texas Gulf Coast. And this weekend we hoped to make the most of it. Fully expecting to see a fallout, or the aftermath of one, we headed to Galveston. First stop on Saturday afternoon was Lafitte’s Cove. There were fewer birds than usual for a day in mid-April, and more people than birds.
I saw only a Scarlet Tanager, a Blue-winged Warbler, a Merlin, a Yellow-bellied Flycatcher, a few Ruby-throated Hummingbirds, an Ovenbird, some Brown Thrashers (residents), assorted ducks and shorebirds, and a few Gray Catbirds. The Gray Catbirds (along with the Scarlet Tanager) were eating from the mulberry trees near the gazebo. A greedy Northern Mockingbird was guarding the trees and ran off the other songbirds again and again.
86A: Banded Piping Plover, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Being threatened or endangered wherever they occur, Piping Plovers are the focus of much concern and study. Based on census data, it’s clear ornithologists have not yet identified all Piping Plover breeding grounds. This bird has been banded five times. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
East Beach was glorious on Saturday evening (and Sunday morning), as it usually is after cold fronts. There were large flocks of gulls, Dowitchers, terns, Brown Pelicans, Black Skimmers, and a few scattered waders. Most interesting to me were the small shorebirds. Sanderlings, Least Sandpipers, and Semipalmated Plovers were everywhere.
One Piping Plover was trying to pass unnoticed among the smallest shorebirds. This bird was sporting no less than five bands of assorted colors. Clearly an object of devotion, this creature is likely a member of a dying breed. Threatened everywhere it occurs, the Piping Plover numbers in less than five figures. In contrast, the nearly identical-looking (and just as darling) Semipalmated Plover is one of the most common shorebirds in the world.
Semipalmated Plover, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Because of their abundance, Semipalmated Plovers don’t attract much notice. Look Mom, no bands! Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Finally, the contrast between East Beach and Lafitte’s Cove was stark. East Beach was nearly abandoned and a perfectly lovely place to bird. Lafitte’s Cove was jammed cheek to jowl with tourists yakking it up in the “quiet zones.” The time has likely come to bid Lafitte’s Cove a fond adieu . . . .
Scavenging Peep: Sanderling (Non-breeding) with Fish Carcass, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. This bird ran past the carcass, each time tearing off a tiny chunk of flesh. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC) on ground pod. Natural light.
For I must tell you that we artists cannot tread the path of Beauty without Eros keeping company with us and appointing himself as our guide. –Thomas Mann
Great Egret in Full Breeding Glory, Smith Oaks Rookery, High Island, Texas. This bird cycled through a rhythmic display of raising and lowering its head while bristling breeding plumes. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
A rarity occurred this week: A passing spring cold front with beautiful weather behind coincided with a three-day weekend. We hit the road! The Smith Oaks Rookery is an afternoon photography site so we generally depart Houston mid-day and stay in Winnie the first evening for such getaways. The golden hour hits just as the shadow of the trees to the west of the rookery envelope the spoils-pile island–so the best shooting is at about 6:15 pm.
On this trip, we saw a number of new things. Roseate Spoonbills were bathing en mass at times, and every so often alligators would breach like bolts of lightning and attempt to grab birds from the shore. Strangely, when this occurred, the flocks of Roseate Spoonbills would walk towards the disturbance. Perhaps they were trying to give the predator sensory overload so it couldn’t decide which way to strike.
Gotta Look Your Best for Mating Season: Bathing Roseate Spoonbill, Smith Oaks Rookery, High Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.Two Heads are Better than One for the Contemplation of a Stick, Smith Oaks Rookery, High Island, Texas. The stick at their feet was presented for nest construction, from one bird to the other. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Quite a bit of plant material was being collected and presented to mates by Roseate Spoonbills, Great Egrets, Snowy Egrets, and Neotropic Cormorants. Eggs and chicks were present in Great Egret nests. We saw only eggs in Snowy Egret nests, and Roseate Spoonbills have not finished their nest-building, yet. Many cormorants were building or stuck like glue on their nests, so eggs, but no nestlings, are present in some nests.
On the way back we took our normal route: down Bolivar, stopping at Frenchtown Road, crossing the ferry to Galveston, and then stopping at Lafitte’s Cove. Not much was going on at either other place, though. Dowitchers have overrun Frenchtown road, and the Clapper Rails were chattering up a storm. There were more humans than birds at Lafitte’s Cove. One exhausted Blue-winged Warbler was flopping around in the thicket for a while but still managed the give the flock of photographers the slip.
Soon the songbirds will be arriving in the millions, and won’t be able to escape unphotographed . . . .
Neotropic Cormorant Leaf Presentation, Smith Oaks Rookery, High Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC).
A change in the weather is sufficient to recreate the world and ourselves. –Marcel Proust
Prothonotary Warbler, Dauphin Island, Alabama. This bird was drinking nectar from bottlebrush flowers. A cavity-nesting species, this songster breeds in the swamps of Brazos Bend State Park. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
This weekend we went binocular birding at Brazos Bend State Park, again. We decided to leave the photo gear at home given the dense clouds and patches of rain and drizzle. While we were sitting on the bench on the west side of Old Horseshoe Lake, I was grousing about how I was tired of only seeing the usual suspects. Just as the words left my mouth, I spotted a pair of Cinnamon Teal drakes dabbling among the aquatic vegetation right off shore–a personal first for this park. These birds were likely early migrants at the extreme eastern extent of their migratory range. A nice sighting, but even with that I’m ready for a change. Of course, the next big change is spring migration . . . and the passage of dozens of glorious wood warbler species across the Upper Texas Gulf Coast.
Nashville Warbler, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Warbler photography usually involves finding birds in woods with dappled sunlight. The options are flash or no flash. With no flash in dense woods, artsy shots like this are possible (but rare). Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS. Natural light.
Now is the time to start brushing up on Warbler identification. It’s amazing how quickly this skill fades over the year, but equally amazing how quickly it returns after a few days in the field in April. Last spring was a fairly good one for seeing new or unusual warblers. Specifically, we saw Blackpoll Warblers, Golden-winged Warblers, Cape May Warblers, and a single Prairie Warbler at Lafitte’s Cove.
Chestnut-sided Warbler, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. We were lucky enough to hear this species sing on the North Shore of Lake Superior a few summers ago. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
After about six years of serious birding, my personal warbler species count stands at thirty-eight, with decent images of about half that many. Soon we’ll be planning trips to see specific tough-to-find species: Big Bend for the Colima Warbler, Michigan for Kirtland’s Warbler, and so on.
Spring brings hope for, if not new species, then better images of birds we’ve seen and photographed before. Maybe this is the year I will find the holy grail of bird photography–a technically perfect shot of a rare warbler, a big juicy caterpillar in its beak. Spring migration brings the sense that anything is possible –yes, Virginia, a storm could blow a Black-throated Blue to Galveston! Dream big or stay home!
Palm Warbler, Myakka River State Park, Florida. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
There are two kinds of light – the glow that illuminates, and the glare that obscures. –James Thurber
Great Blue Heron (Breeding) with Gizzard Shad (Dorosoma cepedianum), 40-acre Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. This bird spent a good deal of time with its head low to the surface of the water, neck outstretched. It seemed to be searching for prey by looking for minor disturbances in the surface of the water–and then the bird would go dashing after the makers of these ripples among the aquatic vegetation. Canon EOS 7DII/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
On Sunday we took a much-needed trip to Brazos Bend State Park. The light in the early morning was white, and the water shone like a mirror. Colors were washed out, and there was a general sense of omni-directional illumination. Shadows were pale, and the water lacked clarity. More than just a problem for photographers, these conditions necessitated particular hunting strategies on the part of waders . . . .
A Tricolored Heron Utilizes an Underwing Feeding Strategy, Pilant Slough, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. This bird was shuffling its feet to scare up prey. Likely the shadow of the wings cut the glare from the surface of the water allowing prey to be spotted more easily. Canon EOS 7DII/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
American Bitterns, Great Egrets, Great Blue Herons, Little Blue Herons, and a Tricolored Heron were harvesting little (and big) fish galore from vegetation-choked water. And a Great Blue Heron bullied a Great Egret into dropping a fish it had caught in 40-acre Lake . . . .
Most interesting, perhaps, was a Tricolored Heron that was employing a (single) underwing feeding strategy, and from time-to-time, a double-wing feeding strategy. Among herons and egrets, these behaviors involve a continuum of postures from shading the water with a single wing, both wings separated, to a complete canopy in which the wings meet in front of the bird as it crouches, feathers touching the surface of the water. This latter behavior, “canopy feeding” sensu strictu, occurs only in the Black Heron of Africa (Egretta ardesiaca), although the Reddish Egret and Tricolored Heron can approach this configuration.
Several functions for these wing positions have been proposed from scaring fish into divulging their positions, to getting fish to swim into the shade (and presumably under cover) after being be spooked by foot movements, to cutting the glare so that the bird can see its prey better. It is the latter I generally favor, primarily because I tend to observed these behaviors on days with a lot of glare. As an aside, the nickname of the Black Heron is the “umbrella bird.” If the shading to reduce glare is the correct interpretation of this behavior, then perhaps the parasolbird would be a better moniker for this creature.
Note: Special thanks go to naturalist and friend R.D. for sharing his high-speed video of a Tricolored Heron that plainly shows how much clearer the water appears in the shade of an outstretched wing.
A Tricolored Heron Utilizes an Underwing Feeding Strategy 2, Pilant Slough, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. The head of this bird swayed back and forth between outstretched wings. Canon EOS 7DII/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
