Fire is the test of gold; adversity, of strong men. –Martha Graham
Male Montezuma Quail in the Shade of a Juniper, Cave Creek Canyon, Arizona. This secretive bird is found primarily in Mexico. In the U.S., it is best seen in places like the Davis and Chisos Mountains of West Texas or southeast Arizona. But you’ll not likely stumble upon it by accident. Photo taken in riparian habitat. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
For this spring break, we took an epic road trip across West Texas, New Mexico, and southeast Arizona. It was the kind of road trip that produces exhaustion that hurts. But we were able to spend time in two major habitat types in the Cave Creek Canyon area, the Chihuahuan Desert at the mouth of the canyon and low elevation (less than 5500 feet) riparian areas adjacent to the creek.
The open desert areas are dominated by prickly pear, agave, and scattered grasses. Birds spotted here included Verdin, Pyrrhuloxia, Gambel’s Quail, White-crowned and Lincoln’s Sparrow, Curve-billed Thrasher, House Finch, Ladder-backed Woodpecker, and Northern Flicker (Red-shafted). Here, we hoped for shots of birds perched on the cacti and century bloom stalks . . . .
A Curve-billed Thrasher Surveys the Chihuahuan Desert, Cave Creek Canyon, Arizona. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
The riparian habitat at low elevation is dominated by juniper, deciduous hardwoods, and grasses. Junipers are the most flammable trees in the canyon and likely have, in places, achieved unnatural densities due to decades of fire suppression.
But upon closer inspection, tangles of dead or crowded juniper contain a greater wealth of lovely (and more fire-resistant) deciduous trees than is first evident–Arizona sycamore, Arizona walnut, and oak. The recent wildfires in California have aroused fears of the same in Cave Creek Canyon. Some have even started taking action to clear out the dead and low vegetation that could act as fuel for major wildfires. More as the story develops . . . .
Riparian Habitat, Cave Creek Canyon, Arizona. Years of fire suppression in the canyon have left too much fuel on the ground and in the understory for comfort. Canon EOS 7DII/Tokina 11-16mm f/2.8. Natural light.
Female Broad-billed Hummingbird, Cave Creek Canyon, Arizona. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Topic: Birding Cave Creek Canyon, Arizona
Time/date: 7 pm/May 2, 2018
Place: Houston Audubon’s Edith L. Moore Nature Sanctuary, 440 Wilchester Blvd, Houston, TX 77079
Synopsis: Cave Creek Canyon (CCC) in the Chiricahuas of southeast Arizona is one of the great birding destinations of the United States. Especially known for a diversity and abundance of hummingbirds, CCC is an important migratory route for Neotropical migrant songbirds entering the West and contains birds and other biota from the surrounding deserts, grasslands, and Madrean Highlands (Sky Islands). Since they first visited CCC about five years ago, Chris and Elisa have been drawing up plans to visit as often as possible and ultimately wish to retire to this area. Although they have much yet to learn, join this husband/wife photo-birding team at they relate some of their first avian encounters in this incredible area.
This is just like television, only you can see much further.–Chance the Gardener (from Being There)
Gaping Great Blue Heron (Breeding), Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. This bird was just about to spear a big fat siren and drag it from its burrow. I have stalked Great Blue Herons for many hours always hoping for the bird to grab prey. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Unlike the utterances of simpleton Chance the Gardener in the film Being There, things said or done in strange birding territory are unlikely to be perceived as brilliant by the locals–or anyone else for that matter. Travel birding generally doesn’t give you the time to get many good shots, especially since you don’t know the conditions well or even where the birds are. Generally it takes many hours of observation in a place you know well to see or photograph something interesting or unusual.
Case in point: Entertaining fantasies of becoming a world birder, I have begun building my ornithology library again. I just added Herons and Egrets of the World: A Photographic Journey by James Hancock. Published in 1999, the images contained within were captured on film and are a mixed bag. I can only imagine the difficulties involved in documenting avian species on film under what must have often been hostile conditions. The book has, however, provided some more exotic species to be added to the bucket list to be seen and photographed.
Great Blue Heron with Bluegill, 40-Acre Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. I watched this bird for hours. It grabbed several fish and then sat there doing nothing for the rest of the morning. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS. Natural light.
Below find my travel birding exemplar. Despite working pretty hard to get a decent shot, the following is typical of my only encounter with a Great White Heron. Some consider this bird to be a color morph of the Great Blue Heron, others a subspecies. Being such a rarity, I’m sure this bird is hounded everywhere it goes by birders. We probably chased this bird for an hour. It was quite wary, and I felt a little guilty about running around after it. As added barriers to success, the light (or should I say glare) was white, and it seemed some knuckle-headed ibis or egret always wanted to stand in the way thus lousing up the shot.
Like my dad used to say, “There’s nothing so bad that it can’t be used as a good example.” In life, as in bird photography, all you can do is keep swinging.
Great White Heron on a Not-so-great White Day, near Sarasota, Florida. A moment later this bird was gone, as I had crossed an invisible rubicon of minimum approach distance. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
A change in the weather is sufficient to recreate the world and ourselves. –Marcel Proust
Prothonotary Warbler, Dauphin Island, Alabama. This bird was drinking nectar from bottlebrush flowers. A cavity-nesting species, this songster breeds in the swamps of Brazos Bend State Park. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
This weekend we went binocular birding at Brazos Bend State Park, again. We decided to leave the photo gear at home given the dense clouds and patches of rain and drizzle. While we were sitting on the bench on the west side of Old Horseshoe Lake, I was grousing about how I was tired of only seeing the usual suspects. Just as the words left my mouth, I spotted a pair of Cinnamon Teal drakes dabbling among the aquatic vegetation right off shore–a personal first for this park. These birds were likely early migrants at the extreme eastern extent of their migratory range. A nice sighting, but even with that I’m ready for a change. Of course, the next big change is spring migration . . . and the passage of dozens of glorious wood warbler species across the Upper Texas Gulf Coast.
Nashville Warbler, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Warbler photography usually involves finding birds in woods with dappled sunlight. The options are flash or no flash. With no flash in dense woods, artsy shots like this are possible (but rare). Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS. Natural light.
Now is the time to start brushing up on Warbler identification. It’s amazing how quickly this skill fades over the year, but equally amazing how quickly it returns after a few days in the field in April. Last spring was a fairly good one for seeing new or unusual warblers. Specifically, we saw Blackpoll Warblers, Golden-winged Warblers, Cape May Warblers, and a single Prairie Warbler at Lafitte’s Cove.
Chestnut-sided Warbler, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. We were lucky enough to hear this species sing on the North Shore of Lake Superior a few summers ago. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
After about six years of serious birding, my personal warbler species count stands at thirty-eight, with decent images of about half that many. Soon we’ll be planning trips to see specific tough-to-find species: Big Bend for the Colima Warbler, Michigan for Kirtland’s Warbler, and so on.
Spring brings hope for, if not new species, then better images of birds we’ve seen and photographed before. Maybe this is the year I will find the holy grail of bird photography–a technically perfect shot of a rare warbler, a big juicy caterpillar in its beak. Spring migration brings the sense that anything is possible –yes, Virginia, a storm could blow a Black-throated Blue to Galveston! Dream big or stay home!
Palm Warbler, Myakka River State Park, Florida. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
There are two kinds of light – the glow that illuminates, and the glare that obscures. –James Thurber
Great Blue Heron (Breeding) with Gizzard Shad (Dorosoma cepedianum), 40-acre Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. This bird spent a good deal of time with its head low to the surface of the water, neck outstretched. It seemed to be searching for prey by looking for minor disturbances in the surface of the water–and then the bird would go dashing after the makers of these ripples among the aquatic vegetation. Canon EOS 7DII/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
On Sunday we took a much-needed trip to Brazos Bend State Park. The light in the early morning was white, and the water shone like a mirror. Colors were washed out, and there was a general sense of omni-directional illumination. Shadows were pale, and the water lacked clarity. More than just a problem for photographers, these conditions necessitated particular hunting strategies on the part of waders . . . .
A Tricolored Heron Utilizes an Underwing Feeding Strategy, Pilant Slough, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. This bird was shuffling its feet to scare up prey. Likely the shadow of the wings cut the glare from the surface of the water allowing prey to be spotted more easily. Canon EOS 7DII/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
American Bitterns, Great Egrets, Great Blue Herons, Little Blue Herons, and a Tricolored Heron were harvesting little (and big) fish galore from vegetation-choked water. And a Great Blue Heron bullied a Great Egret into dropping a fish it had caught in 40-acre Lake . . . .
Most interesting, perhaps, was a Tricolored Heron that was employing a (single) underwing feeding strategy, and from time-to-time, a double-wing feeding strategy. Among herons and egrets, these behaviors involve a continuum of postures from shading the water with a single wing, both wings separated, to a complete canopy in which the wings meet in front of the bird as it crouches, feathers touching the surface of the water. This latter behavior, “canopy feeding” sensu strictu, occurs only in the Black Heron of Africa (Egretta ardesiaca), although the Reddish Egret and Tricolored Heron can approach this configuration.
Several functions for these wing positions have been proposed from scaring fish into divulging their positions, to getting fish to swim into the shade (and presumably under cover) after being be spooked by foot movements, to cutting the glare so that the bird can see its prey better. It is the latter I generally favor, primarily because I tend to observed these behaviors on days with a lot of glare. As an aside, the nickname of the Black Heron is the “umbrella bird.” If the shading to reduce glare is the correct interpretation of this behavior, then perhaps the parasolbird would be a better moniker for this creature.
Note: Special thanks go to naturalist and friend R.D. for sharing his high-speed video of a Tricolored Heron that plainly shows how much clearer the water appears in the shade of an outstretched wing.
A Tricolored Heron Utilizes an Underwing Feeding Strategy 2, Pilant Slough, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. The head of this bird swayed back and forth between outstretched wings. Canon EOS 7DII/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
The vast sage desert undulates with almost imperceptible tides like the oceans. –Frank Waters
Greater Roadrunner, World Birding Center, Edinburg, Texas. This bird is in a characteristic hunting posture. Canon EOS 7D/100-400mm f/4.5-5.6L IS. Natural light.
When the weather is dank and dreary like this along the Texas Upper Gulf Coast, my mind turns to just about anywhere else. Getting back out to the desert is always a top priority. Among the most interesting desert birds to pursue is the Greater Roadrunner (and the Lesser Roadrunner, too, I’ll bet, but that species doesn’t occur in the U.S., and I’m not up for living The Treasure of the Sierra Madre). Greater Roadrunners occur all across Texas, but we rarely see them anywhere but in the desert or scrublands.
Roadrunners are highly predatory, mostly terrestrial cuckoos. A common birding occurrence is to be walking in the desert and to see a Roadrunner skulk off into the brush as the bird detects your presence. Sometimes you’ll see one scurry across a trail ahead with a lizard or small snake in its beak. Sometimes the tail of a large snake (or lizard?) will be poking out of the beak. In this case, the anterior portion of the herp is being digested, and the rest of animal is slowly being fed down the gullet.
Icy Stare: Greater Roadrunner, World Birding Center, Edinburg, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/100-400mm f/4.5-5.6L IS. Natural light.
Roadrunners are masters of dispatching dangerous prey. Scorpions, centipedes, horned lizards, even venomous snakes are on the menu. Seeing a Roadrunner with prey is one thing, photographing it is another. Several times I’ve gone after Roadrunners in the field, prey dangling from their beaks. By the time I catch up to them, the prey is down the hatch! But with effort, documenting a Roadrunner with a dangerous, squirming victim is just a matter of time!
Greater Roadrunner in Tree, Big Bend National Park, West Texas. Roadrunners spend most of their time on the ground. If you startle one, it may fly a short distance–although it will more likely just quickly scurry away. This bird was just sitting around on a branch early one morning. Perhaps a big juicy snake was digesting away inside its belly! Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Be thine own palace, or the world’s thy jail. –John Donne
Altamira Oriole, Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge (NWR), South Texas. Santa Ana is one of the few places in our country where a birder can see this bird easily. Note the orange wing-bar. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Many birders inside and outside Texas are aware (and horrified) that planning for construction of Trump’s border wall with Mexico at Santa Ana National National Wildlife Refuge (NWR) near McAllen, Texas continues to progess. Often described as the “crown jewel” of the National Wildlife Refuge System, Santa Ana is nationally and internationally famous as one of the birding destinations in the United States. Some of our earliest and most profound birding adventures have occurred here. In fact, it is here where we became serious birders. Over the strenuous objections of world biologists and birders about the obvious threats to habitat and the exceptional beauty and biodiversity of the place, the plans continue.
I suspect that it would be useless to enumerate the types of specific threats to particular animal species–from hindering migration for purposes of finding mates and food to loss of availability of escape routes during floods–that the wall poses. The weird populist political support this boondoggle enjoys is quite beyond the bounds of reason. The work (and destruction) will continue until Trump is out of office–but then the damage will have been done. The wall will (obviously) be incomplete, and Santa Ana will be scarred.
In contemplation of the border wall, I am reminded of the history of palaces in Western Europe. Reaching back into antiquity one finds that the early residences of the nobility were fortresses. Often the power these men and women exerted over their subjects was enforced at sword-point, and rivals often staged armed insurrections. Power and influence were tenuous. However, as the power of the state increased into the early Modern Era, a curious thing happened. Kings and queens no longer lived behind moats and fortifications: They lived in palaces. The Versailles of Louis XIV was not a fortress. Nor was the Buckingham Palace of George III. Security, yes–moats, ramparts, massive walls, no. Power was exercised with the stroke of a pen, orders dispatched from an office, not a turret.
Those advocating the building of the border wall must agree that if the United States requires a physical wall, a fortification, to contain illegal immigration, then our government no longer enjoys a rule of law capacious enough or one even worthy of a Modern civilization. Rather, we must consider ourselves Medievals cowering behind stone walls and iron gates.
Ladder-backed Woodpecker, Santa Ana NWR, South Texas. This bird is in the process of excavating a nest cavity. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Wilderness is not a luxury but a necessity of the human spirit. –Edward Abbey
Portrait: Brown Pelican in Flight, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Note that the cloudiness of the eye is due to the translucent nictitating membrane. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
The weather was right, we had the time off, and there was nothing more to be done about Harvey . . . So we set out for the field. East Beach was glorious. A south wind blew across the island slowing the progress of the big, slow-flying birds as they traced the edge of the land. They were the usual suspects: Herring and Ring-billed Gulls, Forster’s and Royal Terns; Brown Pelicans. But as is often the case when I haven’t been shooting for a while, most of the images turned out to be mush, but it was good just to be out again.
Carolina Wren with Attitude, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. The log is at least partly hollow. Likely the beginnings of a nest are inside. Canon EOS 7DII/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
The next day I returned to the field. To Brazos Bend State Park I went. This time I took Elisa’s 500mm f/4 lens, rather than my 600mm–I was giving the old shoulder a break. Again the usual suspects. The only thing unusual was the number of warblers. They were everywhere.
Large flocks of Myrtle Warblers probed leaves and hawked bugs from the air. Sometimes they joined Blue-gray Gnatcatchers in hunting in the grass. Common Yellowthroats hopped among the aquatic vegetation. Orange-crowned Warblers were also up to their normal tricks, fishing spiders and insects from dead, rolled up leaves. I spied a single Male Wilson’s Warbler pretending to be a Common Yellowthroat as he plucked aquatic insects from Pilant Lake. Of this bird’s reflection in the water, Elisa quipped: “Look, he brought his own sunshine!” The only missing warbler was the Pine Warbler–perhaps these birds got wind of the coming inclement weather.
All in all, a lovely few days. Can’t wait for the sun to shine again.
Male Wilson’s Warbler with Larval Insect, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
For only love can conquer hate
You know we’ve got to find a way
To bring some lovin’ here today, oh oh oh–Marvin Gaye, What’s going on?
Male Summer Tanager, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4xTC). Natural light.
Regular readers of Two Shutterbirds may be wondering what’s going on: Our posts have become sporadic, our commentary, elliptical . . . .
Neotropic Cormorant with Shad, The Bridge, Fiorenza Park, Houston, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
In a nutshell, we’ve been making the big push to get over Harvey. Both our our destroyed house and our new house are under contract.
Majestic Great Egret in Flight, Fiorenza Park, Houston, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
The whole have-your-house-destroyed, sell it, and buy another one has not been the worst experience of my life, but it is on the list.
I have bought two houses before, but as those who have purchased/sold real estate since the housing crisis of 2008/2009 can tell you, it is a different world out there. It seems not to matter if you have money or a perfect credit rating or not: You are in for a [expletive deleted] nightmare. The amount of red tape has generated some real frustration. Luckily, Elisa has been a trooper and kept me in the game when I was about to give up–on repeated occasions.
So, for a while longer, all we’ll be able to do is peruse the archives, revel in the birding joys of the past, and dream of even greater birding adventures in the future . . . Stay tuned.
Tufted Puffin (Breeding), St. Paul Island, Pribilof Islands, Alaska. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
That’s the true spirit of Christmas; people being helped by people other than me. –Jerry Seinfeld
Portrait: Arctic Tern, near Potter Marsh, Alaska. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
What a year! But we wanted to take time to wish all our readers and naturalist friends the merriest Christmas. May joy find you! Cheers, Chris and Elisa
Parakeet Auklet on Rock, St. Paul Island, Pribilof Islands, Alaska. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light. Natural light.
Portrait: Coues Deer Fawn, Barfoot Park, Cochise County, Arizona. Coues deer are a diminutive subspecies of white-tailed deer. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
What a year: Swamped again! Not to worry, we’ll be back on the ball soon with more prose and images of our wild friends. Cheers, Chris and Elisa
Even your silence holds a sort of prayer.– Apache saying
Female Williamson’s Sapsucker, Cave Creek Ranch, Portal, Arizona. Williamson’s Sapsucker is a bird of the high elevation pine forests of the West. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Cave Creek Canyon is perhaps our favorite birding get-away spot. On the southeast flanks of the Madrean highlands of the Chiricahua Mountains of southeast Arizona, it has one the highest biodiversities in the United States. The adjective Madrean refers to the flora, a type of pine-oak woodland community. In Arizona, the Arizona madrone, Arbutus arizonica, is a characteristic member of that flora.
Madrone in Fruit, Vista Point Trail, Cave Creek Canyon, Arizona. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
We have seen the madrones in other mountainous regions of the Southwest, Big Bend National Park, Texas, for example. But on this trip, we saw trees in fruit for the first time. We got wind of madrones in fruit along the Vista Point Trail in Cave Creek Canyon. Madrone fruits are reportedly a favorite for many animals and provide needed sustenance in fall. On this trip, Rufous-backed Robins were eating the berries (reportedly) so we monitored a patch of trees one morning. After watching for about an hour, all we saw were some avian stirrings within the foliage of the trees, but no identifiable birds . . . .
Male Northern Cardinal, Cave Creek Ranch, Portal, Arizona. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
The quest for madrone fruit-eating birds, brings up the classic problem of travel birding: You have such limited time in the field that you are only likely to see very common species–unless you stake out a special situation like a madrone tree with fruit, but . . . wait a minute . . . .
Female Northern Flicker (Red-shafted), Cave Creek Ranch, Portal, Arizona. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
