Possible Thayer’s Gull(?) at East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. All photos: Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC); high-speed synchronized fill-flash.
In mid-March, I noticed a large, strange immature gull among a small group of Herring and Ring-billed Gulls at East Beach, Galveston gathered around a fish carcass. My first impression was that this gull had a more rounded head and relatively shorter bill than the Herring Gulls, and also tended to hold its head in a more upright posture. Tips of primaries and the tail feathers were a dark chocolate brown, rather than black. The pale yellow-gray eyes also caught my attention.
This odd gull, on the small end of the size range of typical Herring Gulls (and much larger than the Ring-billed Gulls), also acted differently from the other birds. This seemingly out-of-place gull was more curious and less suspicious than the others, slowing circling in the water as it waited for me to leave. At one point, the bird flew off, only to return a short time later. Suspecting a possible rarity, but not knowing precisely what I might have, I snapped a few images of the bird in a variety of postures for future study and moved on, leaving the birds to their breakfast.
Possible Thayer’s Gull(?) in Flight at East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas.
The Thayer’s Gull is a puzzling species. These gulls are reported rarely from the Texas Gulf Coast (and much of the eastern U.S.) during winter and early spring, although they breed in the high arctic and winter mostly on the Pacific Coast from Baja to Alaska. The winter movements of these birds are poorly understood. What are these vagrants after? Is it mere wanderlust?
Likewise problematic is the taxonomic status of the Thayer’s Gull: some authorities consider it a separate species, although others consider it a subspecies of the Iceland Gull. Because of wide individual variation, birds of this species are notoriously difficult to identify by birders (especially in areas these birds rarely frequent!) and professional ornithologists alike, disagreements over the identity of specific birds being common. Identification puzzlements are further complicated by the existence of hybridization of Thayer’s with Herring and Iceland Gulls. My suspicion is that the bird in question is a second winter Thayer’s Gull, or possibly a hybrid, but I happily invite comments from readers about the possible identity of the bird shown in these photos.
Standing Thayer’s Gull(?) at East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas.
Is there something we have forgotten? Some precious thing we have lost, wandering in strange lands?—Arna Bontemps
Winter Texan: Immature Forster’s Tern with Worm at East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas, in mid-March. A behavior I’d not seen before: Terns probing for invertebrates on an intertidal mudflat like sandpipers. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
We’re just about there . . . just a few more days. Just a few more days until the most exciting birding of the year begins when hundreds of millions of birds begin pouring across and around the Gulf of Mexico. Sure, a few early birds are already moving through, but mostly it’s still the wintering species that I’m seeing. I also spotted some Wilson’s Plovers at East Beach. Many of these partial migrants extend their ranges north into Texas along the Gulf Coast of Mexico for the summer breeding season.
Partial Migrant: Wilson’s Plover at East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas in mid-March. Wilson’s Plovers begin arriving in Texas in mid-February. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
On a few occasions over the past several weeks, I could have taken additional opportunities to step out (and deal with the mobs of maniac drivers) and look around and see who’s around. But then I think about the date, at the time of this writing still not quite officially spring, and think no, it’s unlikely that anybody really interesting is around, yet. In retrospect, this was probably a mistake. No matter what the time of year, Texas birding can offer up surprises and new experiences—it’s just a matter of exercising the discipline to get out and look.
Winter Texan: Yellow-rumped Warbler (Myrtle Race) at Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. I saw bunch of these guys flitting about and thought Oh, boy warblers . . . until I got the big glass on them. Oh. It’s justyou guys.Still. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Let’s go. We can’t. Why not? We’re waiting for Godot.—Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot
Female Red-winged Blackbird in winter at Myakka River State Park, Florida. Many references state that Red-winged Blackbirds are one of the most abundant birds in North America. But is this still really true? Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
A sighting of two female Red-winged Blackbirds eating cautiously from the seed feeders at the Edith L. Moore Sanctuary in west Houston on the afternoon of February 27 reminded me of what I saw recently in the north woods of Wisconsin and Minnesota. These suspicious birds were likely hungry migrants on their way north, to perhaps the very same Great Lakes region habitats I visited last summer.
After that trip, I wrote about ecological changes I observed birding the woods of northern Wisconsin and Minnesota. One of those changes was an apparent drastic reduction in the number of Red-winged Blackbirds in a variety of habitats relative to what I remembered from childhood. Rather than large flocks in cattail marshes and around the margins of lakes and rivers, I saw only scattered small groups of fewer than ten birds.
In 2009 APHIS, part of USDA, says it poisoned 489,444 red-winged blackbirds in Texas, and 461,669 in Louisiana.—Martha Rosenberg, huffingtonpost.com
Further reading after these observations substantiated impressions of massive population losses. Ever since that time, I have kept an eye out for these birds wherever possible. I am aware, however, that reports based on anecdotal evidence will likely convince no-one, especially those with a vested interest in denial.
Singing Male Red-winged Blackbird in winter at Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
The “famous” taxpayer-supported USDA program of mass poisoning of icterids (blackbirds, grackles, cowbirds) and other agricultural pest species like magpies and European Starlings called “Bye bye blackbird” is probably just the tip of the iceberg of officially sanctioned avian extermination. I say famous because this is a well-known program widely reported on in the blogosphere—but never (to my knowledge) in the really “big time” popular media outlets, the ABC Evening News or the PBS Newshour, for example. (Sidebar: Why is this? Why must we look only to elite publications like Audubon’s “Common Birds in Decline” or National Geographic ‘s “Last Song for Migrating Birds” for reports of the destruction of the environment and the slaughter of its innocents? I guess it would take time away from reports of Justin Bieber’s latest brush with the law and interviews with random passersby about the weather.)
Furthermore, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service (part of the Department of the Interior) has issued a directive, a so-called depredation order, that anyone can kill any number of pest birds they suspect of causing economic damage or posing health risks (sometimes with avicides like Starlicide and administered by professional contractors in the form of poisoned brown rice baits). These private activities are perhaps more disturbing than the USDA programs because of the much larger potential scale of the killing–and the USDA kills birds by the millions! In the eyes of the federal government (and many farmers) icterids are apparently vermin of no worth whatsoever—despite detailed agricultural studies showing that as a result of insectivorous blackbirds, farmers can use 50% less pesticide.
For me, the bold, difficult to describe call of the Male Red-winged Black-bird is the sound of a marsh. Males perched atop cattails with females poking around in the brush below is what a marsh is supposed to look and sound like. Should the Red-winged Blackbird go the way of the Passenger Pigeon, marshes across North America will lose some of their most defining characteristics and aesthetic qualities—the experience of visiting a marsh will be immeasurably degraded.
Perhaps the plight of the Rusty Blackbird will focus some more attention on systematic, deliberate avian extermination. Rusty Blackbirds have suffered an estimated 85-98% reduction in population over the past 40 years likely due, in part, to agricultural poisoning by the government and private individuals. The Rusty Blackbird (along with the Mexican Crow) has been removed from the depredation order—at least taxpayers are not paying for the extermination and protection of the same species. Perhaps that’s all we can hope for in the current Age of Dysfunction—although I fail to understand how Rusty Blackbirds and Mexican Crows will be kept from eating the poisoned rice.
A Male Great-tailed Grackle Intimidates Rivals Over a Seagull Carcass at East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. According to the federal government such birds are vermin and can be killed with impunity. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
I value my garden more for being full of blackbirds than of cherries, and very frankly give them fruit for their songs.—Joseph Addison, The Spectator
Female Wilson’s Phalarope at Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Photo taken in early May. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
In the euphoria surrounding spring migration, it’s sometimes easy to forget that species besides warblers and other colorful songbirds are making their way across the Gulf Coast. Shorebirds are a major component of the spring migration and can really add to the excitement of being in the field in spring. Case in point: the unusual phalaropes.
Phalaropes show a reversal of typical gender roles. The brightly colored females compete for males and migrate shortly after abandoning the nest to the males–which perform all parental duties after the females lay the eggs. Of the three Phalarope species, only the Wilson’s nests in Texas. Rare Texas nesting Wilson’s Phalaropes, however, can only be seen in a few small scattered areas in the Panhandle. Your best bet for seeing Wilson’s Phalaropes (like the other phalarope species) is to spot them during migration.
Last spring we had the luck to spot a few individuals paddling around on one of the ponds at Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island. We did not observe their trademark feeding technique of swimming in a tight circle to form a vortex from which to pluck invertebrate prey, though. Maybe next time.
Immature Wilson’s Phalarope at Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Photo taken in early May. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
In America there are two classes of travel – first class, and with children.—Robert Benchley
Juvenile Caspian Tern Begging for Food at East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas in February. Note the dark flecks on the youngster’s wings. Identical scenes involving other tern species are common at East Beach. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
I find that it’s always a good idea to carefully scrutinize flocks of shorebirds for the rarity who may be trying pass unnoticed among the hoi polloi. When I do spot an unfamiliar shorebird, I snap a few images for future research. Terns and gulls most commonly are the cause of these identification puzzlements.
Juvenile Ring-billed Gull at East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas in February. The pink bill indicates that this is a first-winter bird. By next year, the base of the bill will be yellow, but the plumage will not yet be the spectacular snowy white, pearl gray, and black of the adult. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
Usually the mystery bird is not a rarity at all, but rather a youngster of a common species. Perhaps the most common gulls at East Beach are Laughing Gulls, Herring Gulls, and Ring-billed Gulls. All of these species have distinct breeding and non-breeding plumages as well as juvenile colors significantly different from those of the adult birds.
Juvenile Herring Gull in Flight at East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas in February. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
This great seasonal and developmental variation in appearance within a singles species is one of the challenges of birding. And one that keeps me, at least, heading back to the reference books after just about every trip to the beach.
Herring Gull in Breeding Plumage, South Shore, Lake Superior, Wisconsin. Photo taken in June. In full breeding colors, many gulls are simply glorious. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Hunting Western Sandpiper(Calidris mauri)on a Beautifully Rippled Surface at East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas at low tide is a magical place: a place equally suited for a biology or geology field trip. Gorgeous bedforms of a dozen kinds—those structures formed by the action of water on sediments like ripple marks and dunes—bring back memories of sedimentology classes many moons ago. Running around on theses surfaces (or occasionally trying to pry a recalcitrant worm from the sand and mud) are the sandpipers.
Dunlin(Calidris alpina) at East Beach, Galveston Island Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
In their winter colors, the smallest ones, Sanderlings, Dunlins, Least Sandpipers, and Western Sandpipers sometimes test the birder’s ability to distinguish one species from another. In this endeavor, behavior is often just as good a guide to identification as are the details of appearance.
Sanderlings are perhaps the most charming and easiest to identify of the sandpiper clan as they chase the waves as they drain back out to sea, plucking stranded invertebrates and detritus as they go. Dunlins typically poke about at the strand line, and Western Sandpipers often explore the puddles of the intertidal zone. Least Sandpipers tend to probe for food along the margins of vegetation.
Sanderling(Calidris alba)in Frosty Winter Colors at East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Although I tend to notice sandpipers most often in intertidal habitats, all of these birds can also be found in freshwater and terrestrial environments such as the margins of lakes, flooded fields, and freshwater marshes. All birds mentioned in this post are still common, but Dunlin and Sanderlings are declining in numbers, mainly due to human use (and misuse) of beaches and other coastal habitats . . . yet another tragic tale of our time.
Least Sandpiper (Calidris minutilla) in a freshwater marsh, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Thanks to TE for pointing out these little fellows. High-speed synchronized flash.
Someday, after mastering the winds, the waves, the tides and gravity, we shall harness for God the energies of love, and then, for a second time in the history of the world, man will have discovered fire.—Pierre Teilhard de Chardin
Great Egret Preening over Nest with Eggs at Smith Oaks Rookery, High Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural Light.
Being from Minnesota, I am usually only reluctantly looking forward to spring in Texas—mainly because the summer swelter soon follows. But this winter, the weather (mostly drizzle, fog, mist, clouds; rain) has been so appalling that I am definitely looking forward to spring more than most years. In addition to watching out for migrants, primarily at the migrant traps like Lafitte’s Cove, High Island, Sabine Woods, etc., we’ll be on the lookout for nesting birds, eggs and babies. And the Texas Gulf Coast is a great place for rookeries . . .
Roseate Spoonbill on Nest at Smith Oaks Rookery, High Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
One of the best rookeries for observation and photography, of course, is the Smith Oaks Rookery on High Island. I have not been there since buying our 600mm f/4L, though. Some of the nests at Smith Oaks are just a little too far for optimum results with a 500mm lens, so I am looking forward to what can be gained with the extra focal length.
Unfortunately, two problems exist at Smith Oaks: crowding and mosquitos. Although not quite as bad as a shopping mall the day before Christmas, High Island can be quite crowded and not all birders are quite civilized. Some birders seem insistent that photographers stay in the “designated tripod photography areas, ” while some others feel free to stand around in those areas without taking pictures. In any case, listening to the snarky comments while swatting mosquitos may be amusing. Or not.
Juvenile Reddish Egret near Brazoria National Wildlife Refuge, Texas. By early summer, there are generally lots of young birds out and about near the many coastal rookeries. Photo taken from a boat. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
We must let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the one that is waiting for us.—Joseph Campbell
White-faced Ibis With Bulb or Tuber Being Shadowed by Common Moorhen at Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. These tubers or bulbs are apparently worth fighting over. This sneaky little Common Moorhen stole the poor Ibis’s snack! Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Despite often gloomy and dismal weather and optical conditions, the marshy south flank of Pilant Lake near the observation tower at Brazos Bend State Park, Texas has been an exciting place for birders this winter. In addition to the usual suspects present during winter, American Pipits, Wilson’s Snipes, American Bitterns, Song Sparrows, Least Sandpipers, and a Solitary Sandpiper have been spotted in the vicinity. What’s more, interesting bird behavior and interactions have been common lately, and I’ve made inter- and intra-species conflicts and confrontations the theme of my photos for this post. There are, for example, so many Wilson’s Snipes around that they’re getting into each other’s business: violations of personal space result in displays as shown below.
Shall We Dance? Wilson’s Snipe Confrontation at Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park. Canon 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
The south side of Pilant Lake is also one of the best spots to photograph wader hunting behavior that I know. This winter has been no exception. Two weeks ago a Great Blue Heron is reported to have taken a large siren (Siren intermedia), a very large salamander, from immediately north of the observation tower. As a result, I spent a few hours stalking a Great Blue in that area the day after the report, but I only saw the bird catch frogs. Maybe next time.
Great Blue Heron With Frog at Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State park, Texas. After repeatedly pecking this unfortunate frog, the heron ultimately rejected it and walked off. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
The passions are the same in every conflict, large or small.—Mason Cooley
Least Bittern with Fish (Darter?) at McFaddin National Wildlife Refuge, Texas. A prized sighting not because Least Bitterns are rare, but because they are secretive. They may be quite common . . . it’s hard to tell. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Of the heron, egret and bittern family, the two species of North American bitterns are the most secretive. When spotted, their slow, precise, almost machine-like stalking behavior is mesmerizing to watch. Sometimes bitterns seem acutely aware of the photographer’s every breath and muscle-twitch, and sometimes they are completely oblivious to observers and go about their hunting as if they alone occupied the planet.
Least Bitterns summer in the eastern U.S., including the Gulf Coast, and American Bitterns winter along the Gulf Coast—so for the Texas birder, the possibility (at least) exists for seeing bitterns throughout much of the year.
Beauty Shot: Least Bittern at McFaddin National Wildlife Refuge, Texas. Sometimes even the most secretive birds cooperate. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Of the two bittern species, the American Bittern has the more cryptic coloration, I think. Many times I have had to double-take when I first noticed one–especially if the bird had adopted its neck-straight-up “I’m-a-clump-of-marsh-vegetation pose.” Least Bitterns are also difficult to see among marsh vegetation and have been known to sway back and forth to mimic the gentle motion of vegetation tussled by the wind. These are clearly creatures that do not want to be noticed.
American Bittern Out in the Open at Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
It’s hard to recommend a place to see bitterns in the Houston area. The south side of Pilant Lake at Brazos Bend State Park is the most reliable spot to see American Bitterns I know. But in many visits to that area, I’ve only seen a Least Bittern once. And that’s how I would characterize my experience with Least Bitterns: I’ve seen them many places once.
Calls of both species of bitterns are distinctive enough to know when they’re around, even if they are invisible, especially the Least Bittern’s rather monkey-like (to my ear) coo-coo-coo. Least Bitterns are also easy to spot in flight, given their heron-style of flight and rufous markings—but once they’re back in the reeds, it’s good-bye, Charlie!
Move along! Move along—nothing to see here! What you normally get in the way of bittern photos: cryptic American Bittern at Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. This bird soon slowly turned and skulked off into the marsh. Canon EOS 7D/500mm F/4L IS (+1/4x TC). Natural light.
Don’t wait to be hunted to hide, that was always my motto. —Samuel Beckett, Molloy
White Ibis with Crawfish at Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Crawfish are on the menu year-round at Braozs Bend. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
Although we delight in getting properly exposed and sharply focused images of birds sitting innocuously on branches, we’re most excited to capture birds in epic battles with their prey! The Gulf Coast is an exceptional place to live if you’re interested in spotting and photographing birds grappling with fish, frogs, snakes, salamanders, and crayfish and dragonflies and a host of other invertebrates. In our photo presentation, Stalking the Hunters: Observing and Photographing Birds and Their Prey,we will focus on our adventures photographing birds hunting, fishing, and otherwise engaged in the struggle for existence (mostly) along the Gulf Coast. For logistical details, please visit the Houston Audubon Nature Photography Association (HANPA) site.
Gottcha! Green Heron with Frog at Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
“To photograph is to hold one’s breath, when all faculties converge to capture fleeting reality. It’s at that precise moment that mastering an image becomes a great physical and intellectual joy.”—Henri Cartier-Bresson, The Mind’s Eye: Writings on Photography and Photographers
Limpkin on a Snail Hunt at the Celery Fields, near Sarasota, Florida. We had hoped to get a shot of a Limpkin eating a snail, but the four birds we saw would find snails and then high-tail it back into to the vegetation to eat them, only to reappear a few minutes later to continue the hunt. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
On a recent birding to trip to Florida we were excited to see Limpkins, odd rail-like birds that feed primarily (75%) on applesnails. Limpkins are snail specialists with slightly right-curving beak-tips to reach inside snail shells. Historically, Limpkins have fed on the Florida Applesnail, the one indigenous U.S. applesnail species. However, the U.S., especially the Gulf Coast, is currently under invasion by several additional species of Neotropical applesnails (Genus Pomacea, but we’ll leave the contested details of which species are which to the gastropod taxonomists!).
Two species of snail-eating birds appear to be taking advantage of this invasion: Limpkins and Snail Kites. Limpkins are reportedly expanding their range in Florida to harvest the explosion of invasive snails, and the Florida subspecies of Snail Kite appears to be rebounding from the brink of extinction based on the proliferation of prey. White Ibis also dine on applesnails and may be benefitting from increased food supplies.
Although these invasive mollusks seem to be benefiting these birds, many naturalists fear the applesnail invasion. These snails have become major agricultural pests in other parts of the world where introduced, and some species host the rat lungworm parasite (now doesn’t that sound pleasant?). Even in death applesnails pose a threat: shells discarded by Limpkins and Snail Kites serve as water reservoirs for the breeding of invasive Asian tiger mosquitos.
Seems that everywhere we go on our birding adventures we find invasives (or their impacts), or in researching these posts, read about the impacts invasives have on birds or the environment in general. Pristine environments are now non-existent. Even in parks and preserves billed as being “native,” cursory inspection of land or water soon usually reveals invasives, be they Chinese tallow trees, water hyacinth, Hydrilla, or privet—or applesnails. I somehow doubt, though, that Limpkins and Florida Snail Kites will accompany the applesnail invasion of Texas. Pity.
Applesnail (Pomacea sp.) egg mass at El Franco Lee Park, south Houston. Egg masses can be found on emergent vegetation in shallow water. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Time sometimes flies like a bird, sometimes crawls like a snail; but a man is happiest when he does not even notice whether it passes swiftly or slowly.—Ivan Turgenev
Male Common Yellowthroat(Geothlypis trichas) at Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. The southern margin of Pilant Lake is a great place to look for winter warblers. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
Although spring migration is the best time to look for warblers along the subtropical U.S. Gulf Coast, many species can be spotted during the winter months. We specify the subtropical part of the U.S. Gulf Coast to distinguish it from the southern tip of Florida, which has a wet-dry tropical climate. (Many species of warblers winter in southern Florida and nowhere else on the U.S. Gulf Coast. These include Magnolia, Cape May, American Redstart, and Black-throated Blue Warblers.)
Male Wilson’s Warbler (Wilsonia pusilla) at Edith L. Moore Sanctuary, west Houston. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Across much of subtropical Gulf Coast Texas one may find Orange-crowned, Yellow-rumped (generally Myrtle Race, but sometimes Audubon’s Race or hybrids), Black and White, Pine, Wilson’s, Palm, and Common Yellowthroat Warblers. Prairie Warblers may be found on the coastal tip of Louisiana and in Florida, except the Panhandle. At the extreme southern terminus of the Texas Gulf Coast, one may find Yellow-throated, Black-throated Green, Black-throated Gray, Yellow, Ovenbird, Northern Waterthrush, Northern and Tropical Parula, and Nashville Warblers–which makes it just about as good a place to bird in the winter as Florida.
Palm Warbler (Dendroica palmarum) in Winter at Myakka River State Park, Florida. The marshes around Upper Myakka Lake were a-hoppin’ with warblers. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.Palm Warbler in Breeding Colorsduring Spring at Sabine Woods Sanctuary, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Warblers are among the most difficult birds to photograph given their small size, lightning fast reflexes, and (often) a propensity to inhabit dense, thickly tangled vegetation—so we like to bird for warblers as much as possible to maximize photo-ops, even during less than ideal times of the year.
Birding for warblers in the winter has positives and negatives. The biggest positives are, of course, the cool weather and lack of biting insects. The slight downside is not seeing the Dendroica genus of Wood Warblers in their most flamboyant breeding colors. Dendroica warblers often exhibit different plumage colors in the breeding (spring and summer) and non-breeding (fall and winter) seasons as illustrated in the two photos above. The solution to this minor drawback for winter bird photography is, of course, is to bird for these fellows in both breeding and non-breeding seasons!
Orange-crowned Warbler(Vermivora celata) at Aransas National Wildlife Refuge, Texas. Elisa successfully pished this bird from a dense thicket. Canon EOS 7D/300mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
If winter comes, can spring be far behind? —Percy Bysshe Shelley, Ode to the West Wind
