Texas

Brushing up on Waterthrush Identification

Posted December 20, 2014 by Chris Cunningham

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

Unseasonably warm weather over the past week has has made me think about migration: Last weekend felt more like April (complete with mosquitos) than mid-December. Even in winter I like to review my Neotropical migrant songbird field marks lest I grow too rusty. The songbird return is only a few months away, after all.

One of the trickier points of identification that I hear birders argue about in the field is how to distinguish Louisiana from Northern Waterthrushes. Both waterthrush species are (rather strangely) wood warblers. Both are large-bodied, primarily ground foragers, and display a peculiar fore-and-aft rocking motion and tail-pumping behavior (not unlike Spotted Sandpipers!). But waterthrush species have very different biogeographic distributions. Northern Waterthrushes are much more wide-ranging birds than their Louisiana cousins. Northern Waterthrushes summer across Canada and Alaska and winter from the Mexican border to northern South America (with small pockets in Louisiana and Florida). The Northern Waterthrush is even listed in Birds of Peru as a vagrant. Louisiana Waterthrushes summer in the eastern U.S. and winter in Mexico and Central America (and just barely into the northern tip of South America). Texas Gulf Coast birders typically only see waterthrushes during migration, though.

Several reliable field marks distinguish waterthrush species. Throat color is probably the easiest single feature to check. Louisiana Waterthrushes have a predominantly white throat, and Northern Waterthrushes have strong brown stripes, becoming flecks, on a white background up to just beneath the mandible. The supercilium (eyebrow) in the Northern tapers to a point behind the eye, whereas in the Louisiana it tends to flair before termination. The feet of the Louisiana also tend to be a brighter shade of pink. Despite these field marks, though, I feel the overall look of these birds is the best path to identification. The Northern has crisper, sharper, and more contrasting markings. The Louisiana tends to look smoother and softer, with more blended transitions between patches of color over the entire body.

Well, now that we have identification issues sorted out for these two warbler species . . . there are only forty-seven more to go!

Louisiana Waterthrush, Lafitte's Cove, Galveston Island, Texas — *Louisiana Waterthrush,* Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized flash.

I know you’ve heard it a thousand times before. But it’s true – hard work pays off. If you want to be good, you have to practice, practice, practice. If you don’t love something, then don’t do it.—Ray Bradbury

It’s a Wren Thing

Posted December 13, 2014 by Chris Cunningham

Singing House Wren, Moose, Wyoming — *Singing House Wren,* Moose, Wyoming. Occurring from Canada to southern South America, House Wrens are one of the most widespread birds in the Americas. They are also one of the most aggressive small birds, vigorously defending their cavity nesting sites. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Several weeks ago it seemed as if Marsh Wrens were everywhere we were along the Upper Texas Coast. One minute they were singing, and the next they were hiding. Then, just as mysteriously as they appeared, the Marsh Wrens disappeared completely. A week later, there were Carolina Wrens–also alternately singing and sneaking–where the Marsh Wrens had been before. House Wrens, too, should be around at this time of year, but where are they? Hiding, no doubt.

The name for the Wren Family, Troglodytidae, refers to a “creeper into holes, or cave dweller.” One can, of course, think of many examples to justify this name. The booming voices of Canyon Wrens can be heard up and down the arid canyons they inhabit. They are fun to watch as they climb up vertical cliff walls and poke around nooks, crannies, and caves. House Wrens nest in cavities, and we’ve seen Rock Wrens in the Gila National Forest (New Mexico) nesting in limestone caves.

While birding the rain forests of Olympic National Park, Washington, we were treated to the incredibly loud and penetrating songs of the Winter Wren. Finding and photographing the birds was a challenge, though. These birds favor the understory vegetation among the massive fallen logs of mighty conifers. This humid, gloomy, atmospheric environment is low on light, and the birds scurried and sneaked suspiciously among the shadows when not serenading.

You’ve already seen enough: A quick look over the shoulder, and then back into the marsh. Marsh Wren, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4xTC). Natural light.

Be they House, Carolina, Canyon, Rock, Cactus, Marsh, or Winter, all wrens seem to have this now you-see-me, now-you-don’t personality. One minute they are singing their lungs out obliviously ten feet from the birder, the next they re scurrying and hiding.

Singing Cactus Wren, Cave Creek Canyon, Arizona — *Singing Cactus Wren*, Cave Creek Canyon, Arizona. This bird hid in a pile of brush when not singing. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Singing Carolina Wren, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas — *Singing Carolina Wren,* Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Of course, this contradictory behavior is the result of two competing impulses. Most of the time wrens are secretive and shy—like most birds as they try to remain inconspicuous to predators. Then the singing begins, for all the reasons songbirds sing. They have no secrets . . . from potential mates and pretenders to their kingdoms, that is.

How infinitely charming, though, when after an hour or so of playing hide-and-seek with the birder, a wren hops up onto stump or low branch and starts his aria, “L’amour est un oiseau rebelle” (Love is a rebellious bird)! Fortississimo, if you please!

Winter Wren, Olympic National Park, Washington — *Singing in the Darkness: Winter Wren,* Olympic National Park, Washington. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Contradictions do not exist. Whenever you think you are facing a contradiction, check your premises. You will find that one of them is wrong.—Ayn Rand

Duck! Birding the Texas Coastal Bend in Fall

Posted December 6, 2014 by Chris Cunningham

Redhead at the Freshwater Channel, Hans and Pat Suter City Nature Park, Corpus Christi, Texas — *Redhead Drake* at the “Freshwater Channel,” Hans and Pat Suter City Nature Park, Corpus Christi, Texas. This park is one of the best places on the Coastal Bend to see waterfowl, and the evening light can be spectacular. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

Over a three-day period this Thanksgiving Holiday we visited a number of our favorite Coastal Bend birding haunts in and around Port Aransas and Corpus Christi. These included Paradise Pond, the Leonabelle Turnbull Birding Center, the Nature Sanctuary at Charlie’s Pasture (all Mustang Island), and San José Island, and the Hans and Pat Suter City Wildlife Nature Park in Corpus Christi. And yes, when it was over we were wiped out!

All of these sites were flush with birds, except San José Island which proved to be such a disappointment that we found ourselves photographing crabs! With the exception of San José, all of these sites are really better for birding than for bird photography for one simple reason: Narrow boardwalks make tripods problematic, especially when other birders are present.

Hooded Merganser Hen, Paradise Pond, Port Aransas, Mustang Island, Texas. — *Hooded Merganser Hen,* Paradise Pond, Port Aransas, Mustang Island, Texas. This bird was perhaps the most co-operative merganser I have ever seen. In the past, be they Hooded, Common, or Red-Breasted, Mergansers have quickly retreated upon our approach. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

Highlights of these late Fall and early winter trips to the Coastal Bend are often the waterfowl. You just can’t beat a crisp morning with formations of ducks and geese overhead and wet, feathered-friends paddling peacefully around the waterways. Although we saw plenty of ducks and geese, seeing vast tracts of prairie and wetland without a single bird (and often hearing the crack of gunfire in the background) got me wondering about duck populations in North America.

A quick survey of a recently published U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service report reassured that duck numbers are (in general) large by “historical” standards. This report presented data but provided little analysis or discussion. Overall, a few duck species are down relative to recent years, but the total number of ducks is close to 50 million. So humans must not be adversely affecting waterfowl populations, right?

Wait! The above cited historical quantitative records of duck numbers begin in 1955. The 1930’s (think Dust Bowl), 40’s, and 50’s were times of drought across North America. Could it be that our concept of how many waterfowl there “should be” in wetter times is too low? Again according to the report, some duck species (Northern Shoveler, Redhead, Blue-winged and Green-winged Teal, and Gadwall) show a steady increase in numbers, with minor ups and downs, beginning in the mid-1950’s—perhaps indicating a recovery from a time of ecological decimation? Given the interplay of anthropogenic, meteorological, and ecological influences, we’ll never know for sure what waterfowl populations would look like without the pervasive human impacts of the past fifty years. But in North American waterfowl numbers there is certainly food for thought.

Green-winged Teal Hen, Leonabelle Turnbull Birding Center, Port Aransas, Mustang Island, Texas — *Green-winged Teal Hen,* Leonabelle Turnbull Birding Center, Port Aransas, Mustang Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7D 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

The fallacy of presentism is a complex anachronism, in which the antecedent in a narrative series is falsified by being defined or interpreted in terms of the consequent.—David Hackett Fischer, Historians’ Fallacies

High Drama at Low Tide

Posted November 29, 2014 by Elisa Lewis

Black-bellied Plover with ghost shrimp — *Black-bellied Plover with Ghost Shrimp* *(Family Callianassidae),* Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Hello again, friends! Chris’ last post reminded me of the photos I have to share of a Black-bellied Plover plucking ghost shrimp from their burrows. Watching shorebirds pull infaunal invertebrates from tidal mudflats is definitely my idea of a good time! These photos were taken last April, when the bird was starting to molt into its breeding plumage.

I knew this plover had something big when the typical run-pause-pluck, run-pause-pluck hunting style was suspended at the “pluck.” There it was, its bill up to the nostrils in mud, completely frozen. A few beats later, a mound of mud erupted as the plover slowly pulled up a bizarre looking worm (because everything’s a worm-right?). Well, turns out, it was an arthropod – a ghost shrimp to be precise – and this little bird was a master shrimper. Fastidious too. After each catch, the black-belly would run to the water’s edge to rinse the ghost shrimp off before swallowing it whole.

Three image series of a Black-bellied Plover pulling a ghost crab out of its burrow in a mudflat. — *Watch Me Pull a Ghost Shrimp Out of This Mudflat*! A Black-bellied Plover “magician” extracts a ghost shrimp from its burrow at Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

As a photographer, these are the moments I shoot for. As a wildlife watcher, these little dramas starring avian predators and their cryptic prey open small windows into life beneath the surface. Considering the diversity of species and numbers of birds that make their livings pulling food from the earth, I get a sense of how alive the ground beneath our feet really is.

I knew, of course, that trees and plants had roots, stems, bark, branches and foliage that reached up toward the light. But I was coming to realize that the real magician was light itself.–Edward Steichen

Hunting High and Low

Posted November 22, 2014 by Chris Cunningham

Little Blue Heron with Green Tree Frog, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas — *Little Blue Heron with Green Tree Frog* (Hyla cinerea), Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Hunting High. Recently I was stalking a Little Blue Heron as it worked its way through the vegetation at water’s edge, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park. The vast majority of the time, waders are looking down in their search for fish, amphibians and invertebrates. This time the bird was looking up, inspecting the plants as it went. I new what this meant, having seen it three or four times before at Elm Lake: The bird was after tree frogs! (Sidebar: sometimes waders act like this when they’re looking for dragonflies or spiders.) Interestingly, the water level in this part of the park seems to be down a bit from last year, and perhaps the tree frog hunt may be in response to this. Because I knew what was coming, I was able to get a nice series of shots documenting the bird eating four tree frogs.

Piping Plover with worm, Bryan Beach, Texas — *Piping Plover with “Worm*,” Bryan Beach, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

Hunting at the surface. Cold weather fun can be had watching shorebirds pull infaunal invertebrates from tidal mudflats. Once in a while it’s a ghost shrimp or a crab, but often these meals are unidentifiable to me, and I just peg them as “worms.” I remember one of my professors on a rant about the term “worm” only being used out of a state of complete ignorance as many phyla of marine organisms could be lumped under that term. In this case, guilty as charged! Most of the time I have no idea what these little shorebirds are prying wriggling from the muck! It’s always exciting to watch, and every so often a bird grabs something big, nasty, and identifiable!

Hunting low. Perhaps the most suspenseful type of hunt to watch is one in which prey is sought from below the surface of the water. Sure, most of the time if you are in a freshwater environment, a small fish, tadpole, or larval invertebrate is plucked up, but sometimes really big prey items are dragged out thrashing and snapping. But turnabout is fair play. It’s not uncommon to see waders poking around in the shallows only to go running away squawking after having poked or prodded something really big, toothy and nasty like an alligator gar or . . . God knows what! And considering the beasties that swim beneath the waves of the salty seas, I marvel at the boldness of waders as they hunt in the marine shallows.

Willet with Crab, Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas — *Willet with Mud Crab,* Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas. This crab is likely the oystershell mud crab *(Panopeus simpsoni),* but I invite comments from anyone who knows better. These small crabs have an enlarged tooth on the moveable finger of the major chela (noted in some other images) and are common among the oyster reefs of the Gulf Coast, along with some other mud crab species. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

Finally, one of my goals for this winter is to capture images of a Great Blue Heron grappling with a Siren intermedia. During winter, the place to look for these giant amphibians being dragged from their burrows is the edge of Pilant Lake just north of the observation tower. However, this year the terrain in this area looks very different from the recent past: It is drier and much overgrown. Fortunately, Pilant Slough just to the south and east looks very much like Pilant Lake has in recently past years. This occurred to me as I noted a Great Blue standing right in the middle of the slough. Clearly, this is the spot to watch for the siren hunt this year!

Perhaps, after all, America never has been discovered. I myself would say that it had merely been detected.—Oscar Wilde

Focus on Behavior (Yours and the Birds’)

Posted November 15, 2014 by Chris Cunningham

Singing Male Eastern Meadowlark, lagoon near Bryan Beach, Texas — *Singing Eastern Meadowlark*, lagoon near Bryan Beach, Texas. Eastern and Western Meadowlarks overlap in range along the Texas Gulf Coast in winter. Although sometimes difficult to tell apart, Eastern Meadowlarks tend to have crisper, bolder markings. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

My favorite bird photos document apparently undisturbed behavior. There is a big element of luck in obtaining such photos as birds tend to spook and stop whatever they’re doing by the time you’re close enough to get a decent shot. You can stack the odds a bit in your favor by modifying your own behavior. Wearing camouflage, making only slow, deliberate, and tangential movements can help. Also, pretending to ignore the bird and not making direct eye contact can squeeze a few extra feet from those all-important minimum approach distances.

Canopy-fishing Reddish Egret, lagoon near Bryan Beach, Texas — *Double Wing-fishing Young Reddish Egret,* lagoon near Bryan Beach, Texas. Despite a cloudy morning, there was glare-aplenty . . . clearly a job for the underwing approach! Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

The most fun to be had in bird photography is when the birds are so wrapped up in their world that they ignore you completely. Reddish Egrets, for example, will sometimes start running around willy-nilly in a hunting frenzy that alternates between a staggering postmodernist dance and underwing hunting. Raptors, however, seem to never zone out, and with their incredible senses always seem minutely aware of your every movement. They may continue doing their thing, but they clearly never forget that you are there.

Osprey with Fish, Bryan Beach, Texas. — *Osprey with Fish,* Bryan Beach, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Hand-held using truck as a blind. Had we opened a door, it would have been bye-bye birdie! Natural light.

On a different note, in between recent avian sightings, I’ve been working on macro technique, especially approaches to flash. Despite having a built-in diffuser, our Sigma macro ring flash (in many ways a piece of junk), which often works well on dull surfaces, tends to be too contrasty and produces excessively bright highlights on shiny surfaces. As a result, I’ve been experimenting with other set-ups, including Sto-Fen Omni-Bounce and Vello Softbox flash diffusers for our Canon 600EX-RT flashes. Reports to follow.

Bee on Aster, near Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas — *Bee on Aster,* near Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/100mm f/2.8L IS (+25mm extension tube II) and 600EX-RT flash (+Sto-Fen Omni-Bounce diffuser). High-speed synchronized flash. Hand-held.

Behavior is the mirror in which everyone shows their image.—Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Finding Those Unappreciated Sparrows (by Accident)

Posted November 1, 2014 by Chris Cunningham

Nelson's Sharp-tailed Sparrow, Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas — *Nelson’s Sharp-tailed Sparrow*, Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas. This bird was moving through seed-laden grasses with a group of Seaside Sparrows. Photo taken at about 7:30 am under a beautiful golden fall light. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4 TC).

Last weekend we birded High Island (Boy Scout Woods), Bolivar Flats, and Frenchtown Road. Frenchtown Road is an exceptional spot, and almost always the highlight of any Bolivar trip. It is a great spot for Clapper Rails, Whimbrel, and waders and shorebirds hunting prey, especially crustaceans. But, (rather unexpectedly) grass seed-head-chomping Nelson’s Sharp-tailed Sparrows were the highlight of this visit. Nelson’s Sharp-tailed Sparrows breed mostly in Canada, winter along the Gulf Coast, and are not a common sight in Texas—at least not where we usually bird.

Rufous-crowned Sparrow, Lost Maples State Natural Area, Texas — *Rufous-crowned Sparrow on Mountain Laurel*, Lost Maples State Natural Area, Texas. This bird was spotted on the way to find Golden-cheeked Warblers, which we found a few minutes later. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Sparrows, in general, may be the least appreciated of birds, and I myself am often guilty of not affording them the respect they deserve. It’s rare for us to plan a trip around sparrows. This is despite their ecological importance and often beautiful earth-tone color schemes. We usually have more glamorous species in mind, like the rock stars of the birding world, the wood warblers when we plan birding trips. I spotted the the Rufous-crowned Sparrow above, for example, on a Central Texas trip centered around finding Golden-cheeked Warblers. Of course, It wouldn’t have hurt our feeling to have spotted Black-capped Vireos, too.

In my own defense, though, we do make an annual pilgrimage to Barfoot Park, in the Coronado National Forest, Arizona to see Yellow-eyed Juncos, an American Sparrow you’re not going to find by accident. Of course, it wouldn’t hurt my feelings to see a few Hepatic Tanagers while we’re there . . . .

*Not Rare, but Secretive: Grasshopper Sparrow,* Galveston Island State Park, Texas. Grasshopper Sparrows get their name from the grasshopper-like sounds they make. They’re not a sparrow one sees every day in this part of the world. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

I don’t believe in accidents. There are only encounters in history. There are no accidents.—Pablo Picasso

More Autumn Birding Adventures

Posted October 25, 2014 by Chris Cunningham

Hunting White Morph Reddish Egret, Bryan Beach, Texas — *Rare Bird: Hunting Immature White Morph Reddish Egret,* Bryan Beach, Texas. The lagoons at Bryan Beach recently proved to be *the* place for white morph Reddish Egrets. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

The weather has been trending toward the pleasant lately, but has still often been a bit too warm (and buggy) by mid-day to really enjoy seeking and shooting birds all day long (Uh-oh! We’ll have to stop for a pint and a brat at the Wurst Haus!). We have been taking every opportunity, though, to get out (mostly to the coast and Brazos Bend) and be productive. October 19 was the first genuinely perfect day of the fall. Nice from start to finish, dry with cool breezes and creamy, beautiful light all day long. What a day to forget about your cares and let your blood pressure return to normal!

American Bittern at Brazoria National Wildlife Refuge, Texas — *American Bittern as Seen From a Truck,* Auto Loop, Brazoria National Wildlife Refuge, Texas. Photo taken hand-held using a truck as a blind. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Last Weekend, after hearing reports of Wood Storks flying over Brazos Bend State Park toward the coast, we visited Brazoria National Wildlife Refuge. The mosquitos were prodigious in number so we drove the Auto Loop, using the truck as a mobile photo blind. We employed a little trick we learned on the web: pool noodles, cut to length, split to the center and slipped over a half-rolled-down window served as nice supports for the barrels of our super telephoto lenses. Sometimes Elisa rode around in the bed of the pick-up while I drove and shot through my window . . . but no storks.

During a brief visit to the Gulf Coast Bird Observatory in Lake Jackson, we found surprisingly few birds, but the beautiful grounds offered many opportunities for macrophotography of flowers and arthropods, especially spiders. Brazos Bend State Park, too, has been a rich hunting ground for spiders lately, with several species of large orb-weavers being very much in evidence.

I was also happy to discover that the thick layer of reeking seaweed that has been blanketing East Beach, Galveston has finally rotted down to the consistency of scattered coffee grounds. As a result, a favorite birding spot is livable again. For the first time, I saw a Reddish Egret do the Snowy Egret thing—wave a foot back and forth underwater to spook up prey.

In the near future we plan to continue our hunt for migratory shorebirds and songbirds. And Wood Storks remain on the target bird list. Hmmmm . . . San Bernard NWR?

Barn Spider with Green Darner, near Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. — *Barn Spider (Araneus cavaticus) with Green Darner (Anax junius),* near Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Fall-migrating green darners in the hundreds of millions are a rich food source for orb-weavers, and ensnared dragonflies are to be found everywhere there are spiders. Because this spider and her prey were high up in a tree, I don’t feel guilty about using a super telephoto to get the shot. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape—the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn’t show.—Andrew Wyeth

Additions to Articles: Alligators and Stalking the Hunters

Posted October 18, 2014 by Chris Cunningham

Little Blue Heron with Water Tiger (Aquatic Beetle Larva) at Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Parak, Texas — *The Flip: A Little Blue Heron with Water Tiger (Aquatic Beetle Larva)* at Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

Because I enjoy revisiting previous work, and field work has been slow lately, over the past week I’ve added some new images to American Alligator: Training for the Tropics on the Texan Riviera and Stalking the Hunters: Observing and Photographing the Predatory Water Birds of Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Please take a look!

*An Innocent Pile of Algae.* A camouflaged alligator patrols Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

Half my life is an act of revision.—John Irving

Fall Arrived on the Texas Gulf Coast (And Then Departed!)

Posted October 11, 2014 by Chris Cunningham

Wilson's Warbler at Lafitte's Cove, Galveson Island, Texas — *A Wilson’s Warbler,* Lafitte’s Cove, Galveson Island, Texas. Most likely scenario: This bird summered in Canada and is on his way to Mexico or Central America—although he could remain in Texas for the winter. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

Last weekend Texas got its first real fall blast from the North. Saturday was especially lovely, and we spent the day on the Gulf Coast. Of course, by Monday the hot, humid, sweltering stuff returned and remained for the rest of the week.

Our usual coastal road trip runs from High Island down the Bolivar Peninsula, across the ferry to Galveston (where we often visit Pelican Island and Lafitte’s Cove), and then back to Houston. This time we started at Bryan Beach, visited the Quintana Neotropical Bird Sanctuary, traveled up Follett’s island, crossed the bridge to Galveston, visited Lafitte’s Cove, and returned to Houston.

Ipomoea quamoclit (hummingbird vine), Houston, Texas — *Ipomoea quamoclit* (hummingbird vine), Houston, Texas. This lovely little morning glory is native to the Neotropics, but has apparently gained a foothold in Houston. I found this plant growing “wild” along a bayou among more typically encountered morning glory species. Canon EOS 7D/100mm f/2.8L IS (+25mm extension tube II). High-speed synchronized ring flash.

The weather was spectacular at Bryan Beach. There were plenty of mosquitoes, but the brisk winds kept them off us. Having not birded on the Gulf for a couple of months we had to get over the shock (again) of just how much trash is deposited by filthy litterbugs on Texas beaches. We saw at least three white morph Reddish Egrets hunting among the rubbish on the shore face and in the lagoons. We also spent some time with a darling Piping Plover as it grabbed worms from the mudflats.

Standing on Follett’s Island, we saw a Magnificent Frigatebird sitting on a post in Christmas Bay. Before leaving Follett’s, we stopped briefly at a small nature preserve composed of salt marsh, stands of salt cedar, and beach habitat on the Gulf side of Follett’s Island within sight of San Luis Pass. I had a good laugh at one of the signs here. It noted how ranchers had planted salt cedars to provide shelter for their cattle, and now the salt cedars provide shelter for countless millions of migrating songbirds. Apparently no matter how egregious the violation of the environment, humans must be portrayed as heroes.

Lafitte’s Cove was hopping with warblers: Black and White, American Redstart, Nashville, and Wilson’s were in attendance. Here, as was often the case, flowers (some native and some non-native) were in bloom, and I spent some time working with a new toy in my bag, a 25mm extension tube. Extension tubes increase the magnification of a lens by increasing it’s image distance. After returning home I continued to turn the tube on a variety of flowers and arthropods. With continued practice, I hope to perfect my macro technique and see how the tube works with other lenses. Now, I eagerly await the next norther . . . .

Gastracantha cancriformis (spiny-backed orbweaver), Houston, Texas. — *Gastracantha cancriformis* (smiley-face or spiny-backed orbweaver spider), Houston, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/100mm f/2.8L IS Macro (+25mm extension tube II). High-speed synchronized ring flash.

The tints of autumn…a mighty flower garden blossoming under the spell of the enchanter, frost.—John Greenleaf Whittier

The Many Colors of Water

Posted October 4, 2014 by Chris Cunningham

Least Grebe at Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge, Texas — *Least Grebe* at Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge, Rio Grande Valley, South Texas. Photo taken on a dark, dreary, cold and drizzling December morning. A gray sky produced coffee-with-cream-colored water. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Waterbirds are among my favorite subjects and, as often as not, the surface of the water itself becomes a major compositional element within the photo. Some photographers tend to shoot at a very low angle to show the bird at eye-level. In doing this, though, the surface of the water is lost, which is why I prefer to shoot at a slight downward angle . . . .

Pied-billed Grebe with Red Swamp Crawfish at Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas — *Pied-billed Grebe* with Red Swamp Crawfish at Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. The brilliant green wrinkly water steals the show. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

I love the colors of water and the features that form and travel across its surface. Waves, rings, and wakes add a level of energy and context to the avian subject. The color and surface texture of the water inform the viewer about the day the image was taken. The winter colors of the Willet below, for example, indicate the season, but the chaotic, deep blue surface of the water tells the viewer that this was a cold, clear, blustery day.

Willet with Shrimp, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas — *Willet with Shrimp,* East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

Water, of course, is charismatic enough to be more than just the setting and can become the subject itself. The raging torrent below beckons to the stunning mountains of the West. I wish we were there . . . .

Waterfall on the Yellowston River, Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming. — *Plume of Mist Over Waterfall* on the Yellowstone River, Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Water is the driving force of all nature.—Leonardo da Vinci

Appreciating the Totality of Nature Through Photography

Posted September 27, 2014 by Chris Cunningham

Cross Vine with Bee, Houston, Texas — *Crossvine Flower* (Bigonia capreolata) *with Bee,* Houston, Texas. Step One in appreciating a plant: Is it native? Step two: Is it a food plant for birds? Yes and yes. Crossvine is a Texas native and a source of nectar and insects for hummingbirds and other birds. Canon EOS 7D/100mm f/2.8L IS. Hand-held with high-speed synchronized ring flash.

Back when I was a geologist and in the field my eyes were almost always turned to the ground. I was looking for fossils, minerals, sedimentary structures—in short, anything that could tell me about the depositional setting of the rocks I was studying . . . .

Neotropic Cormorant at the Hans and Pat Suter City Nature Park in Corpus Christi, Texas — *Neotropic Cormorant* at the “freshwater channel,” Hans and Pat Suter City Nature Park in Corpus Christi, Texas. The brilliant blue eyes provide the “spot of poison” in cormorant color theory. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

Having an interest in the life sciences, though, I would from time to time notice a plant here or a lizard there. I would perhaps even make a mental note about field marks and look up the species in question once back in the museum or departmental library.

Back in those days, I carried either my Yashica Super 2000 (w/55mm f/2.8 ML Macro), until the Canon EOS 7D my most beloved camera, or a Contax RTS II (w/CZ 50mm f/1.4 Planar) 35mm film camera to document what I saw geologically in the field. Thinking back, it’s almost comical how little photographic firepower I carried into the field in those days: I might bring two or three rolls of 24- or 36-frame rolls of film!

Anole confrontation at the Edith L. Moore Nature Sanctuary, West Houston — *Green Anoles* (Anolis carolinensis) *fight it out!* at the Edith L. Moore Nature Sanctuary, West Houston. When head-bobbing and dewlap extension aren’t enough, teeth will do the trick. The lizard on the right was king of the log and bullied the other out of his kingdom. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

At first, I was skeptical about the digital photography revolution, worried that digital cameras offered quantity and ease at the expense of quality. Now a digital convert, I’m armed with more equipment than I can carry at any one time. The current challenges are having the right lens at the ready for any given situation and making optimal use of each piece of equipment.

Although birds are my primary target, I am always looking for new things to photograph: plants, fungi, and vertebrate and invertebrate animals are all potential subjects. I scan the trees for squirrels, frogs, lizards, and snakes, jelly fungus and mushrooms; bromeliads and other epiphytes. I scan the sky for birds, bats, and insects, and the brush for what’s lurking there. I might even pull the ultra wide angle lens out of the bag to document the context of what I’m seeing, the habitat itself.

Every image is now a potential research project. Insects (that need identification) are perched on flowers (that need identification). Birds grab unfamiliar bugs, fish, and lizards—all these critters are crying out for study and identification. Now that the weather is getting nice again, I can’t wait to get out there, feel the stress of daily life melt away, and find out what’s going on!

Queen Butterfly on Gregg's Mistflower at Casa Santa Ana, Rio Grande Valley, Texas — *Queen Butterfly* (Danaus sp.) *on Gregg’s Mistflower* (Conoclinium greggii) at Casa Santa Ana, Rio Grande Valley, South Texas. Although not ideal, super telephotos can be used to get some shots of really big bugs. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

In nature we never see anything isolated, but everything in connection with something else which is before it, beside it, under it and over it.—Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

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