Texas

Black and White Warblers

Posted April 9, 2016 by Chris Cunningham

Few birds have been so well named. This warbler is black and white, just exactly that, no more, no less.—Alexander Sprunt, Jr. (1957)

Black and White Warbler, Lafitte's Cove, Galveston Island, Texas — *Male Black and White Warbler,* Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Photo taken March 12, 2013. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

I remember the first time I saw a Black and White Warbler. The bird was gleaning bugs from a black willow tree on the south shore of Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park. I recall being amazed that such a striking bird could be found outside the Tropics. Although Black and White Warblers summer from the Yukon to South Texas, they winter mostly along coasts from the Carolinas to northern South America.

As noted, some Black and White Warblers do winter along the Upper Texas Gulf Coast, but during migrations is really the time you can expect to see them. In spring, their numbers peak here during the middle of the migration, namely April. This year, during our last two trips to Lafitte’s Cove in late March and early April, the number of Black and White Warblers we saw about equalled the number of other migratory songbirds combined, including Yellow-throated, Black-throated Green, Myrtle, Orange-crowned, and Hooded Warblers, Northern Parula, and White-eyed Vireos.

Rarely mistakable for any other species, the creeper-like hunting behavior alone is usually enough to recognize Black and White Warblers. And males and females are easy to tell apart. Males have black cheeks, lores, and throats. Females are pale gray in these areas. Mr. Sprunt notwithstanding, female birds will also sometimes have a wash of pale brown (“buff”) on the sides—this is a nice departure from some warbler species in which even with a good photo in hand and a stack of references, it’s tough to sex the birds.

As we get deeper into spring migration and more rare and unusual warbler species start to show up, the impact of seeing Black and White Warblers will start to fade a bit. But Black and White Warblers are definitely part of what makes migration so wonderful here along the Gulf Coast: The skies and vegetation are filled with a spectacular spattering of avian colors.

Reference

Sprunt, Alexander, Jr. 1957. Black and White Warbler, in Ludlow Grissom and Alexander Sprunt, Jr., eds., The Warblers of North America. The Devin-Adair Company, New York. 356p.

Duck Pair Bonding

Posted April 2, 2016 by Chris Cunningham

Unless you and your mate are united in purpose, dedication, and loyalty, you will not succeed to the extent you otherwise could.–Ezra Taft Benson

An American Wigeon Drake Calls to His Mate, Lafitte's Cove, Galveston Island, Texas — *An American Wigeon Drake Calls to His Mate.* She has strayed too far away. Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Soon, all American Wigeons will be on their way north for the breeding season, as will most Texas ducks. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

American Wigeon Hen. Lafitte's Cove, Galveston Island, Texas — *The Object of His Affection: American Wigeon Hen,* Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Pair bonded ducks are easy to see now, regardless of whether they nest locally or are about to depart for the north. Dabbling ducks typically bond as early as late fall or early winter, whereas divers often wait until as late as early spring. By this time of year, then, the vast majority of ducks still in Texas are pair bonded. Last week at Lafitte’s Cove I saw a pair of American Wigeons in the lagoon on the west side of Eckert Drive. With them were pairs of Blue- and Green-winged Teal and Gadwall. In the west pond on the other side of Eckert Drive was a lone pair of Mottled Ducks.

Mottled ducks pair bond earlier than other Mallard-complex ducks (Terres, 1991). The benefits of pair bonding to female ducks is well known: drakes protect their mates from the unwanted advances of other male ducks thus allowing their hens more time to feed and fatten up for nesting or the flight to breeding locations. Last week while watching the Mottled Ducks, I witnessed another possible advantage of pair bonding at Lafitte’s Cove.

While feeding, the dabbling drake and hen seemed to get into a rhythmic pattern of dabbling or head dunking and watching. When one bird’s head was submerged, the other was watchful. Only during a disruption were both watchful. This type of behavior would seem to be beneficial to both birds. The submerged partner can feed (and be vigilant against underwater menaces like alligators and large predatory fish), and the partner with head above water can watch for terrestrial predators like felids and shotgun-toting primates, as well as aerial hunters like raptors.

Mottled Duck Drake, Lafitte's Cove, Galveston Island, Texas — *Drake Up: Mated Pair Mottled Ducks,* Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Mottled Ducks are unusual in that they breed along the Gulf Coast. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Mottled Duck Hen, Lafitte's Cove, Galveston Island, Texas — *Hen Up: Mated Pair Mottled Ducks,* Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Mated Pair of Mottled Ducks, Lafitte's Cove, Galveston Island, Texas — *Both Watchful: Mated Pair of Mottled Ducks,* West Pond, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. A big enough disturbance (like a bird photographer) can garner the attention of both birds. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Reference

Terres, John K. 1991. The Audubon Society Encyclopedia of North American Birds. Wings Books. New York. 1109 p.

Black-throated Green Warblers: Jewels of the Forest

Posted March 26, 2016 by Chris Cunningham

This handsome, often hard to see, warbler is rightly connected in the minds of some with the coniferous north woods.—Alexander Sprunt, Jr. and A.E. Allin (1957)

Black-throated Green Warbler, Lafitte's Cove, Galveston Island, Texas — *Female Black-throated Green Warbler,* Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. This is likely a first-year bird. Photo taken on May 3, 2013. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

For those of us along the Gulf Coast, the Black-throated Green Warbler is, of course, associated not with conifers, but with migration. These showy birds cross the U.S. from South Texas to Florida on their way north from the lands surrounding the Caribbean Sea to the Appalachians and the Boreal forests of Newfoundland to British Columbia.

Bathing Black-throated Green Warbler, Lafitte's Cove, Galveston Island, Texas — *Bathing Adult Male Black-throated Green Warbler,* Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Ah! It’s nice to freshen up after a flight across the Gulf of Mexico! The strong black throat and distinct streaks on the back indicate that this bird is an adult male. Photo taken on May 4, 2013. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

The impending spring Neotropical songbird migration has me brushing up on my warbler field marks. Given that similar-looking species (Hermit, Golden-cheeked, and Townsend’s Warblers) follow more western migratory paths, there is rarely any doubt that one is dealing with a Black-throated Green Warbler along the Upper Texas Coast. Aging and sexing these birds, however, is another matter—especially when sightings occur at random angles in patchy, broken light within the foliage of leafed-out trees.

My go-to reference book for warblers is The Warbler Guide by Stephenson and Whittle (2013). In matters of sexing and aging, these authors suggest paying attention to streaking on the back, the amount of black in the throat, and the nature of mottling on the breast. Males tend to be more streaked on the back and have black throats and greater contrast. Note the two birds above. The female, for example, has a pale-yellow black-flecked throat, streaking is nearly absent on the mantle, and black mottles on the breast trail off into broken streaks along the sides. This bird strongly resembles the first-year female figured in Stephenson and Whittle (2013), p. 205. The male above is unmistakable in lateral view with its black throat stretching into a strong black streak along the sides. The bird below shows the least contrast of birds in this post and is likely a female.

Black-throated Green Warblers typically show up along the Gulf Coast late in the middle of the spring migration, making the first week of May the ideal time to watch for them as they glean insects from the mighty hardwoods of migrant traps. Although these charming little birds are among the most common gems of the avian treasure trove that is about to return to North America, they are well worth the effort to seek out, identify, and study.

References

Sprunt, Alexander, Jr. and Allin, A. E. 1957. Black-throated Green Warbler, in Ludlow Grissom and Alexander Sprunt, Jr., eds., The Warblers of North America. The Devin-Adair Company, New York. 356p.

Stephenson, Tom, and Whittle, Scott. 2013. The Warbler Guide. Princeton University Press. 554p.

Birds and Wildflowers: Spring Break 2016

Posted March 19, 2016 by Chris Cunningham

Life stands before me like an eternal spring with new and brilliant clothes.–Carl Friedrich Gauss

Female Great Horned Owl, Ladybird Johnson Wildflower Center, Austin, Texas — *Female Great Horned Owl on Nest,* Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, Austin, Texas. This wild bird has selected a brick planter to nest in for the past six years. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Before the vegetation of the region becomes a burnt offering to the terrible sun god, Huitzilopochtli, I highly recommend making a visit to Central Texas for the spectacular wildflower show. Those of stout enough heart to brave the Death Race 2000-like conditions on the highways in the Austin area will find a real treat in the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center. But go early in the day, as by 10am there are squadrons of bonneted, wildflower-obsessed infants in their strollers being pushed by tenders.

Wild Foxglove, Ladybird Johnson Wildflower Center, Austin, Texas — *Wild Foxglove (Penstemon cobaea),* Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, Austin, Texas. This plant is not related to true foxglove. Canon EOS 7DII/100mm f/2.8L IS Macro. High-speed synchronized macro ring-flash.

Gray Globemallow, Ladybird Johnson Wildflower Center, Austin, Texas — *Gray Globemallow (Sphaeralcea incana),* Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, Austin, Texas. A native of the Chihuahuan and Sonoran Deserts, this plant reportedly explodes in numbers after wet winters. I’ve never seen it in the wild. Canon EOS 7DII/100mm f/2.8L IS Macro. High-speed synchronized macro ring-flash.

A few birds were singing and flitting about the wildflower center when visited. These were mostly common species, Northern Cardinal, Carolina Wren, and Northern Mockingbird—and, of course, the Great Horned Owl above. A few Black-chinned Hummingbirds were also drinking nectar from autumn sage.

While at the center, I practiced some standard botanical macrophotography. The great thing about the center is the diversity of plants from a wide range of habitats across Texas. Many species are labeled, enabling the visitor to easily learn a few more Texas native plants. There are some unusual (and photogenic) species that I’ve never seen in the wild, despite having spent quite a bit of time outdoors attentive to such matters.

Mexican Buckeye, Ladybird Johnson Wildflower Center, Austin, Texas — *Mexican Buckeye (Ungnadia speciosa),* Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, Austin, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/100mm f/2.8L IS Macro. High-speed synchronized macro ring-flash.

Indian Paintbrush, Ladybird Johnson Wildflower Center, Austin, Texas — *Indian Paintbrush (Castilleja indivisa),* Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, Austin, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/100mm f/2.8L IS Macro. High-speed synchronized macro ring-flash.

The visit to the Wildflower Center was a nice tonic after questing after, but not seeing, the elusive Golden-Cheeked Warbler. On the past two visits to the Lost Maples State Natural Area in previous years, we successfully heard and saw the singing male birds. Not being up for such a long trek this spring break, we visited the Travis Audubon Baker Sanctuary instead. But alas, no warblers. Maybe next time.

For the rest of spring break 2016, we’ll stick close to home and see what the local critters are up to.

Pulmonate Land Snail, Prairie Trail, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas — *Pulmonate Snail,* Prairie Trail, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/100mm f/2.8L IS Macro. High-speed synchronized macro ring-flash.

Birds Hunting Marine Invertebrates

Posted March 5, 2016 by Chris Cunningham

In structural complexity, adaptation to all sorts of environments, and development of a remarkable social organization among some, the arthropods are judged to represent the peak of evolutionary advancement attained by invertebrates.—Moore, Lalicker, and Fischer, Invertebrate Fossils (1952)

Spotted Sandpiper (non breeding) with Isopod, Surfside Jetty Park, Texas — *Spotted Sandpiper (Nonbreeding) with Isopod (Sea Slater),* Surfside Jetty Park, Texas. Man-Made structures like jetties provide unusual habitat for birds and marine invertebrates alike along the muddy Texas coast. At Surfside, large blocks of hard, igneous rock provide substrate for the attachment of encrusting organisms like barnacles and algae. Foraging birds take maximum advantage of this synthetic habitat and climb around picking off edibles. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

It’s almost time to get back into one of our spring birding habits: A road trip to the Smith Oaks Rookery on High Island in the afternoon (for the best light), followed by the night in Winnie, and a trip down the Bolivar Peninsula the next morning. The highlight of Bolivar is usually Frenchtown Road, where shorebirds and waders can often be seen hunting for invertebrates, especially arthropods, on the tidal flats, in the shallow tidal channels, and from among the exposed oyster patch reefs.

Black-bellied Plover with Ghost Shrimp, Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas — *Black-bellied Plover with Ghost Shrimp,* near Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas. Ghost shrimp are infaunal, meaning that they live in burrows within the sediment. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Another spring tradition is travel to Bryan Beach (or Surfside Jetty Park or Quintana Neotropical Bird Sanctuary), followed by a trip up Follett’s Island, across to Galveston Island, ending at Lafitte’s Cove. These trips have the best of both worlds, littoral marine habitats and songbird migrant traps among mighty hardwoods.

Whimbrel with Crab, Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas — *Whimbrel with Crab,* near Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas. Elisa caught this bird as it fished a crab from its burrow. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

This time of year reminds the birder of the fact that birds are governed by the never-ending search for food. As avian migrants follow the sun’s energy north, they are mostly following the the exploding biomass of terrestrial invertebrates, primarily arthropods. Birds lucky enough to be able the tap the perennial invertebrate bounty of the sea can overwinter along the coast. Those dependent on terrestrial and aquatic arthropods like insects must wait for the inevitable return of the summer swelter.

American Avocets among Oysters, Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas — *American Avocets Hunting among Oysters,* near Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas. In this marine setting, these birds are likely looking for shrimp and other small crustaceans. In a freshwater setting, they would be primarily after insects. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Lean to Bountiful: Birding Late Winter into Spring

Posted February 20, 2016 by Chris Cunningham

After months of want and hunger, we suddenly found ourselves able to have meals fit for the gods, and with appetites the gods might have envied.–Ernest Shackleton

Immature Red-shouldered Hawk with Common Moorhen, Pilant Slough, BBSP — *Rough Day on the Slough:* Immature Red-shouldered Hawk with Common Moorhen, Pilant Slough, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. This young raptor has an injured or infected eye. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

The current seasonal transition got me thinking about the life struggles of birds. As a birder, I look forward to the coming spring and summer with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. Yes, there will be be many interesting sights and sounds to experience. But the return to the sweltering heat, blistering sun, and the ubiquitous biting insects (Zika, anyone? Chikungunya?) can and will put a damper on many a trip. The loveliness of the Texas winter for the birder disguises the fact that for birds, these are hard times. Food is in short supply and a hard freeze out of the blue can spell death subtropical species that wander just a little too far north.

Clapper Rail with fish, Anahuac National Wildlife Refuge, Texas — *Clapper Rail with Fish,* Anahuac National Wildlife Refuge, Texas. This lucky bird found a rich patch of habitat and snapped up fish after fish! Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Birds that would prefer a juicy arthropod, may now have settle to settle for a dried out seed or two. But change is coming! Buds are appearing, and flowers are starting to buzz with insects. Once the spring really gets rolling and winter moves out, the birds here in North America now will have a brief stretch of time to dine with little competition. Soon, though, hundreds of millions of hungry avian Neotropical migrant mouths will arrive, and the hardscrabble competition for food will begin again!

White-faced Ibis with Bulb, Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas — *White-faced Ibis (Nonbreeding) with Bulb,* Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. This bird would prefer a juicy dragonfly naiad or frog, but may have to settle for a marsh plant bulb today. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

Here Comes Spring Birding

Posted February 6, 2016 by Chris Cunningham

Spring comes on the World –
I sight the Aprils –
Hueless to me until thou come
As, till the Bee
Blossoms stand negative,
Touched to Conditions
By a Hum.—Spring comes on the world, Emily Dickinson

Battling Moorhens, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas — *Let ’em Have it, Stan!* Battling Common Moorhens, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. February through March is the time see Common Moorhens fight it out for territorial dominance in Texas marshes. Photo taken during the first week of February. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Even though it’s the middle of winter, signs of the drive toward life and impending spring are all around, hinting at much greater changes to come.

Some herons, night-herons, egrets, and Double-crested Cormorants are sporting breeding plumes, some of the early bloomers like redbuds and Mexican plums are starting to pop, and there are splashes of color everywhere. Soon, the most exciting time of the year begins with the return of the spring migrants . . . .

Snowy Egret Chick Stretches its Wings, Smoth Oaks Rookery, High Island, Texas — *A Snowy Egret Chick Stretches its Wings,* Smith Oaks Rookery, High Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Territorial displays and fights, singing, courtship and nesting behavior will be all around shortly, also. Baby birds will quickly follow. But, after a few months of chasing birds around in the Texas heat a new longing will begin . . . a longing for the first blue norther of fall . . . .

Monarch Butterfly, winter, South Padre Island, Texas — *Monarch Butterfly,* *in Early Winter,* South Padre Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/100mm f/2.8L IS Macro. High-speed synchronized ring-flash.

Birds Fishing at Low Tide

Posted January 16, 2016 by Chris Cunningham

If the earth should cease to attract its waters to itself all the waters of the sea would be raised and would flow to the body of the moon.—Johannes Kepler, Astronomia nova (1609)

Among all the great men who have philosophized about this remarkable effect, I am more astonished at Kepler than at any other. Despite his open and acute mind, and though he has at his fingertips the motions attributed to the earth, he nevertheless lent his ear and his assent to the moon’s dominion over the waters, to occult properties, and to such puerilities.–Galileo Galilei, Dialogue Concerning the Two Chief World Systems (1632)

Great Blue Heron with fish, Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas — *Great Blue Heron with Killifish,* tidal channel near Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Last weekend offered up the most spectacular weather imaginable, and we headed to East Beach, Galveston and Frenchtown Road, Bolivar. Arriving at low tide, our timing was perfect. Both these localities present exceptional naturalist experiences, especially at low tide. Where else is there evident a more elegant connection between the astrophysical, geological, and biological worlds than in an intertidal zone?

Cormorant with fish, Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas — *Neotropic Cormorant with Killifish,* tidal channel near Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

At East Beach we watched Greater and Lesser Yellowlegs hunt among the ripple marks, tidal channels, and pools abandoned by the retreating tides. Vast flocks of Black Skimmers whirled overhead and large numbers of gulls, terns, and American White Pelicans gathered on emergent sand bars.

Near Frenchtown Road, low tide means that oyster patch reefs are exposed, and Red-breasted Mergansers, cormorants, and waders fished in the tidal channels between the reefs. Shorebirds like American Avocets, Willets, and dowitchers hunted among the exposed clusters of oysters. Forster’s Terns were plucking small fish from the surface waters of the channels. I was surprised to observe the Willet below catching fish in the shallows between patch reefs—usually these birds are grabbing crabs from among the oysters.

Frustratingly, I realized that (being a landlubber from Minnesota) I do not know my Gulf Coast tidal zone fishes, so I could not identify any of the birds’ menu items. To remedy this situation, this week I ordered a copy of Fishes of the Gulf of Mexico: Texas, Louisiana, and Adjacent Waters by Hoese and Moore. It will sit next to my Peterson Field Guide to Freshwater Fishes of North America North of Mexico—so soon I’ll at least have a shot at identifying piscine prey, no matter the salinity.

Willet with fish, Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas — *Willet with Blenny,* oyster reef near Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Photographing Birds in Gloomy Weather

Posted January 9, 2016 by Chris Cunningham

A cloudy day or a little sunshine have as great an influence on many constitutions as the most recent blessings or misfortunes.–Joseph Addison

Reddish Egret in the Fog, South Padre Island Birding Center, Texas — *Reddish Egret in the Fog,* South Padre Island Birding and Nature Center, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

I am sometimes surprised by which images turn out and which don’t. Light is magic, and photography is all about light. By magic I mean inexplicable—or at least very hard to explain in the context of how a camera records light. Case in point: we were recently attempting to photograph Sandhill Cranes in a field on Galveston Island. It was a clear, beautiful day, and I had a distant but unobstructed view of the birds. I wasn’t expecting National Geographic results because the cranes were too far away, but shot after shot was utter garbage.

The humidity was low (which was good), but it was windy (which was bad). I could tell that the UV index was high (I got a sunburn through sunscreen), and I just couldn’t achieve focus using autofocus or manual focus. I first tried bracing the lens on a fence post with image stabilization turned on, then off. When that failed, I returned to best practices: tripod with cable release. But still, everything farther than about ten yards away was blurry and washed out. Was invisible (to the unaided eye) turbulence creating some sort of mirage-like effect? I turned the camera on and off—even switched bodies thinking that there was a malfunction. Somehow, conditions simply weren’t right for photography—black magic. The next day I looked like W. C. Fields with windburn, sunburn, and a bar tan.

Semipalmated Plover, South Padre Island Birding Center, Texas — *What a Shorebird Sees: Mostly Mud.* Semipalmated Plover, South Padre Island Birding and Nature Center, Texas. Sandpipers and plovers scurry along the tidal mudflats all day day long waiting for infaunal invertebrates to betray their positions. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Other days, with fog or rain or lots of gray gloomy clouds, strangely, and against all odds, some nice images can be captured—white magic. I know that some photographers and viewers even prefer the look of results achieved during these dark, gloomy overcast days. All the images in this post were taken on a road trip to South Texas a few years ago. In fact, all were taken on the same day, except the kingfisher. And it was a winter like this one, with lots of rain and clouds and fog and mist and cursing by yours truly.

Female Green Kingfisher, South Texas — *Female Green Kingfisher,* South Texas. We found this bird at a strange little city park in South Texas. I remember the day (we sneaked up on a Harris’s Hawk that was hiding in a bush), but can’t recall the name of the town. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural gloomy light.

Of course, these dark days test your skills. To keep ISO below 800 for reasonable image quality means shooting at ridiculously slow shutter speeds (like 1/80 to 1/320) and breaking the 1/f shutter speed rule that I like to follow–even on a tripod with cable release. At these slow speeds, you’re in mirror-slap territory, especially on a tripod, and any puff of wind or contact with the gear can have deleterious effects. And patience is required to capture even the hint of a catchlight, an important aspect of wildlife photography.

Finally, because I pursue this hobby for personal growth and physical and mental health, seeing sunlight is so important. Like most Americans I suspect that I am Vitamin D deficient due to being cooped up so much at work. On these gray days, the spirits lift during an occasional sunbreak. The image of the Common Yellowthroat below was happily captured at the end of a gloomy, misty day just as the clouds parted (finally!) at dusk.

Common Yellowthroat, South Padre Island Birding Center, Texas — *Common Yellowthroat among Cattails,* South Padre Island Birding and Nature Center, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Bird Photography without Birds

Posted January 2, 2016 by Chris Cunningham

Anything can happen in life, especially nothing.–Michel Houellebecq, Platform

Sapsucker holes, Stephen F. Austin State Park, Texas — *Sapsucker Holes in Vine,* Stephen F. Austin State Park (SFASP), Texas. Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers are common in the bottomland forests of SFASP. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Lately interesting bird sightings have been as rare as intelligent discourse during a presidential election or quality programing on network TV. The last few weeks of iffy weather and striking out on scouting expeditions to places we’ve never visited before (or perhaps only visited a time or two years ago) and seeing little in the way of birds got me thinking: Hey! I don’t need any birds to do bird photography! I can just take pictures of where birds have been! It also got me reminiscing about the all the other times out birding when we saw nothing!

Woodpecker ravaged tree, Minnesota — *Hope you didn’t need this tree for anything: Woodpecker-ravaged conifer tree,* Apostle Islands National Lakeshore, Wisconsin. Theoretically eight species of woodpeckers inhabit this woods in summer, but we saw exactly zero. This woods seemed sparsely populated with birds in general. There were plenty of mosquitos, though! Canon EOS 7D/100mm f/2.8L Macro. High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

Acorn Woodpecker Larder, Portal, Arizona — *Acorn Woodpecker Larder in Oak Tree,* Portal, Arizona. Acorn Woodpeckers stash acorns in little niches that they chisel into oak trees. It’s all about planning for an uncertain future! It’s neat to watch Acorn Woodpeckers insert the acorn into its niche and hammer it into place. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Of course, other than abandoned nests and footprints in the mud (or droppings on a post), if you’re looking for signs of past avian activity you’re pretty much looking for woodpecker handiwork. Woodpeckers are among my all time favorite birds and have been chiseling holes in trees for at least the past 25 million years, since the late Oligocene Epoch. I used to think that petrified wood was a pretty mundane fossil until I started reading about ancient woodpecker holes—now I’ll be checking those hunks of fossil wood and hoping! Incidentally, there is lots of petrified wood around the Texas Gulf Coast, but being mostly Eocene (56-34 mya) it’s way too old for evidence of woodpecker activity, though. Pity.

Bark peeled by American Three-toed Woodpecker, Beaver Meadows, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado — *Conifer Bark Peeled by American Three-toed Woodpecker,* Beaver Meadows, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado. Seeing a Three-toed Woodpecker actually flaking off some bark would have made my day. These shy, rare birds are looking for bark beetle larvae. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Finally, while watching a Hairy Woodpecker chisel holes in the side of some guy’s house in Colorado last summer, I just had to admire the panache and devil-may-care attitude. Never mind that the hapless owner probably toiled thirty years to pay off the mortgage: let’s blast some holes! There may be tasty grubs inside those 2×4’s! Like City of Houston road crews, hammering away and leaving a lunar landscape behind, woodpeckers work their magic and are on their way!

Female Pileated Woodpecker, Olympic Peninsula, Washington — *It’s Like They Just Don’t Care:* Female Pileated Woodpecker, Olympic National Park, Washington. This bird showed little remorse for knocking gaping holes in a wooden retaining wall at Kalaloch Beach while looking for carpenter ants and beetle larvae. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Shooting Macro while Birding Quintana, Texas in Late Fall

Posted December 19, 2015 by Chris Cunningham

Pick a flower on Earth and you move the farthest star.–Paul Dirac

Mexican Turk's Cap, Quintana, Texas — *Giant Mexican Turk’s Cap (Malvaviscus penduliflorus),* Quintana Neotropical Bird Sanctuary, Quintana, Texas. Hummingbird nectar plant, Mexican native. Canon EOS 7DII/100mm f/2.8L IS Macro. Hand-held, high-speed synchronized macro ring-flash.

We’ve gotten into the habit of stopping at the Quintana Neotropical Bird Sanctuary (QNBS) on the way back from birding Bryan Beach and the lagoons behind—even outside the times of spring and fall migration, when it’s unlikely that there will be many birds around. I am interested in having a feel for Gulf Coast migrant traps year-round. These migrant traps are, to my mind, some of the most precious natural resources along the Gulf Coast. Likely the first major trip we’ll take upon retirement will be an April coastal road trip from Dauphin Island, Alabama to Paradise Pond, Texas hitting as many migrant traps as possible. On our last trip to Quintana, though, we saw only Ruby-crowned Kinglets, a Brown Thrasher, and an Eastern Phoebe in the sanctuary itself.

Shrimp plant, Quintana, Texas — *Burgundy Shrimp Plant (Justicia brandegeena),* Quintana Neotropical Bird Sanctuary, Quintana, Texas. Hummingbird nectar plant, Mexican native. Canon EOS 7DII/100mm f/2.8L IS Macro. Hand-held, high-speed synchronized macro ring-flash.

The Gulf Coast Bird Observatory and the Town of Quintana, the entities that maintain the QNBS, have planted a number of native and non-native nectar plants for birds, hummingbirds in particular. The taxonomic diversity of nectar plants insures that blooms will be present when the birds, mostly Ruby-throated Hummingbirds, pass through in spring (March, April, and into May) and late summer (August and September). The plants also attract insects which serve as food for insectivorous birds like warblers, tanagers, vireos, and flycatchers. I much prefer the aesthetics of food plants, even if they are not native, to feeders. What could be better than a sighting or an image of a hummingbird or oriole drinking nectar from a flower, especially a native flower? These food plants are part of chain of resources that allow the movement of birds back and forth between the Neotropics and North America . . . they literally reach out and touch the entire biosphere of the Americas . . . .

Cape Honeysuckle, Quintana, Texas — *Bee Emerging from Cape Honeysuckle (Tecoma capensis),* Quintana Neotropical Bird Sanctuary, Quintana, Texas. Not a true honeysuckle, but rather a bignonia. Hummingbird nectar plant, South African native. Canon EOS 7DII/100mm f/2.8L IS Macro. Hand-held, high-speed synchronized macro ring-flash.

Not having many birds around allows me to focus on my neophyte macrophotography skills. Blooms can be beautiful, but clearly the presence of an insect adds a lot to any flower image. No matter how spectacular the bloom my eye is always drawn to the bug, no matter how drab or nondescript (as in the shrimp plant above).

In conclusion, one piece of advice for budding flower photographers: get a macro ring flash. Are you reading this, MP? The naturalist at the Red Slough Wildlife Management Area (southeast Oklahoma), David Arbour, was kind enough to take us on birding tour of the refuge several years ago and said that flash was not only helpful, but necessary for macrophotography. After several years in the field since then, I completely agree.

Lantana, Quintana, Texas — *Lantana camara(?),* Quintana Neotropical Bird Sanctuary, Quintana, Texas. Naturalized in Texas. Butterfly magnet, hummingbird nectar plant, too. Canon EOS 7DII/100mm f/2.8L IS Macro. Hand-held, high-speed synchronized macro ring-flash.

‘Tis the Season for Vegetable Foods

Posted December 12, 2015 by Chris Cunningham

Shall I not have intelligence with the earth? Am I not partly leaves and vegetable mould myself.–Henry David Thoreau

A Gray Squirrel Munches Maple Seeds, near Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas — *A Gray Squirrel (Sciurus carolinensis) Munches Ashleaf Maple (Acer negundo) Seeds,* near Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Gray Squirrels subsist mainly on seeds and nuts, but also eat a variety of animal foods including bird eggs, amphibians, and insects. It’s fairly common to see Texas tree squirrels munching on cicadas when they’re around. Some references also report cannibalism. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Frequent readers of this blog may know that I prize images of birds struggling with prey above all others. But sometimes the birds and mammals of the marsh and forest, either through preference or requirement, dine on plant foods—especially during the colder part of the year when insects and other arthropods are less abundant.

A Swamp Sparrow Plucks Seeds from a Plant, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas — *A Swamp Sparrow Plucks Seeds from an Unidentified Plant,* Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Swamp Sparrows eat mostly grasshoppers during the warm months and seeds during the winter. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

It’s sometimes a challenge to identify animal prey items seized by birds and other animals. Plant foods are often even more of a challenge—unless the meal is something easy like hackberries, tallow seeds, privet fruits, maple seeds, and so on. Sometimes birds are munching seeds or buds of what I (as no botanist) consider fairly nondescript, difficult to identify plants. The fact that there are so many invasive species around these days only complicates the task. I will often make attempts at identification, but these are often frustrated by constraints of time and available references—but it’s fun to try!

An American Coot Forages for Aquatic Plants, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas — *An American Coot Forages for Aquatic Plants,* Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Coots are primarily herbivores, but like many birds and small mammals, they will eat small animal prey (mostly mollusks and arthropods) and carrion. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

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