Brazos Bend

The Yellow-eyed Rump-warmer

Sunny days (especially sunny weekend days) seem to be in short supply along the Texas Gulf Coast this winter. Happily, this weekend should be among those rare sunny occasions—so we’re headed to Brazos Bend State Park (BBSP) to see if we can spot the Least Grebes we saw just after the new year. Allow me take you back in time a few weeks . . . . New Year’s Day had come in with a grudge—weeks of damp and dreary days latched on like leeches and drained the life right out of us. So, when the first Sunday of 2015 rotated into place with a bright, sunny sky, we geared up and headed out, giddy with optimism.

Sunning Least Grebe at Brazos Bend State Park, Texas.
Sun worshipper. The Least Grebe fluffs its tail feathers to expose dark-pigmented skin on its rump and absorb solar energy for warmth on a cold January morning. Pilant Slough, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4xTC). Natural light.

We weren’t the only ones venturing out to take advantage of the weather. This Least Grebe with it’s powder-puff posterior aimed sunward was practicing “high-sterned sunbathing,” according to the literature (Well, that’s a polite way of putting it!). The skin exposed by raising the feathers on its back-side is black and thought to absorb solar radiation. It seems reasonable enough. While in this position, I observed the bird paddle its feet back and forth to produce a stationary “waggle,” which could be interpreted as at the bird’s way of distributing the heat more evenly. You can see faint ripple-marks produced by our rump-warming friend in the photo above.

Water beads up and rolls off the back of a Least Grebe.
Waterproof. Water beads off a Least Grebe’s back after emerging from a dive. Many types of waterbirds have the ability to waterproof their feathers and insulate themselves from the wet and the cold. Pilant Slough, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4xTC). Natural light.

The Least Grebe drew quite a crowd of onlookers along Pilant Slough at BBSP. Aside from being downright adorable, Least Grebes are infrequently seen in our neck of the woods. We usually see Pied-billed Grebes at BBSP. Although Pied-billed Grebes can be seen all over the US, Least Grebes are a tropical to sub-tropical species, and the Texas Gulf Coast populations are at the northern extremity of their typical permanent range. Even our mild Texas freezes can be fatal. As we left the park, I was excited to see two Least Grebes together. We’re hoping that they’re a mated pair and make it through our winter to raise a few broods!

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Do you see that out there? The strange unfamiliar light? It’s called the Sun. Let’s go and get us a little.” – Nora Roberts, The Hollow

©2015 Elisa D. Lewis. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

Stalking Forest Birds

Tufted Titmouse on Tree Trunk, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas
Tufted Titmouse Hunting on Lichen-encrusted Tree Trunk, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. This bird ran up and down the trunk in search of caterpillars. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

About this time of year we always begin planning for our big summer birding trips. We try and include as many different types of habitat as possible. This year we will focus on the high elevation forests of the West. Finding and photographing forest birds is the toughest challenge I know in photography: it makes getting desert (and even marsh) birds seem simple by comparison. The openness and spectacular, clear light of the desert can make shooting a joy. The complex three-dimensional nature of the forest, often with shafts of brilliant illumination adjacent to patches of near-darkness, can test the capabilities of the birder-photographer.

Red-bellied Woodpecker, Edith L. Moore Nature Sanctuary, Houston, Texas
Bye-bye, Now! Red-bellied Woodpecker, Edith L. Moore Nature Sanctuary, Houston, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

I have chased birds in many forests, and I am always a bit apprehensive about birding and shooting in these environments (and spending my precious, precious vacation time here) for one main reason: it’s possible to come away with nothing at all—no good shots or even a good look! Forest birds (songbirds especially) are often so suspicious and spooky that you may get one glimpse, and they’re gone! In the really big parks, they can disappear into the vastness in a snap. In the really tall trees (like those in Sequoia National Park!) the birds can just zoom up to fantastic heights and wait for you to go away.

Although not especially spooky, the tree-clinging birds like treecreepers, nuthatches, and woodpeckers are a special challenge to watch and photograph. It’s almost comical how woodpeckers will sometimes spiral around a tree trunk to get away from the hapless photographer! Brown Creepers may allow a very close approach, sometimes almost ignoring the shooter, as they hop up a trunk in search of arthropods only to sail downwards to the base of the next tree and begin the process again. Nevertheless, Brown Creepers are really hard to photograph as they cling to the tree trunks, staying in the shadows and deep recesses in the bark, and will even spiral around to the other side of the trunk to hide from the photographer in woodpecker fashion. In contrast to creeper behavior, nuthatches often hop down the trunk in search of prey—but they, too, cling to the trunk and poke into nooks and crannies making shooting difficult much of the time.

Athough I love the marshes, swamps, estuaries, tidal flats, and bottomland forests of the Texas Gulf Coast, I look forward to getting to very different habitats. The steep, high-altitude alpine habitats I have in mind for this summer will probably require quite a bit of sans-supertelephoto, binoculars-alone birding—unless I can talk Elisa into scouting out ahead and waiting for me at elevation with a defibrillator!

Brown Creeper, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas
Brown Creeper, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Note the stiff, pointed, woodpecker-like tail feathers used for propping the bird up against the trunk. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

A forest bird never wants a cage.—Henrik Ibsen

©2015 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

It’s a Wren Thing

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.

Marsh Wren, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas
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

 ©2014 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

Hunting High and Low

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 betterThese 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

©2014 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

Birding the Slow Stretches

Young Pied-billed Grebe, Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas
Young Pied-billed Grebe, Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Birds this young utilize different hunting techniques than fully adult birds and show vestiges of their striped juvenile plumage. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

Things are slow now. Along the Texas Gulf Coast, we are in a time of transition within a time of transition. Most of the songbirds have moved through, but we still await the big waves of waterfowl. Some wintering shorebirds have arrived including Long-billed Curlews, and Least and Spotted Sandpipers. Sandhill Cranes can occasionally be heard and seen overhead, and there are a few ducks paddling around here and there. The numbers of Blue-winged Teal are increasing, and a few Ring-necked Ducks are about. On the big plus side, everywhere we’ve gone over the past week or so was mercifully free of biting insects.

During such slow times I have to focus on more detailed observations of familiar species. Last weekend at Brazos Bend, for example, Pied-billed Grebes were visible in unusually large numbers. Small groups of three or four birds were scattered across Elm Lake. One cluster contained three adult birds and a youngster, shown above. The youngster hunted in a different fashion than the adults. It paddled around on the surface and dunked its head and neck below the surface to search for prey (rather like a loon!). As always, the adults settled into the surface of the water and then dove, reappearing a few seconds later. But big prey was not on the menu that day. I watched for an hour or so hoping to witness an epic battle with a big fish, frog, or crawfish, but I saw only insects being consumed.

Young female Ring-billed Duck, east pond, Lafitte's Cove, Galveston Island, Texas
A Lone Young Female Ring-necked Duck, east pond, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. A white ring on the bill has just started to appear. Gentle paddling produced a subtle wake of crescents. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

A visit to the drippers and environs at Lafitte’s Cove last week yielded few avian sightings. I spotted a few Ruby-crowned Kinglets, a Pine Warbler or two, and a few Northern Mockingbirds. The ponds were nearly as unproductive. I noted Mottled Ducks and  a single Ring-necked Duck, and I played hide-and-seek with a deeply distrustful Marsh Wren.

Spotted Sandpiper in nonbreeding plumage, Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas
Spotted Sandpiper in Non-breeding Plumage, Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

Frenchtown Road, Bolivar yielded a lone Spotted Sandpiper that strutted and posed along the remains of a floating wrecked wooden structure for an extended photo shoot. Overall, I saw the usual mix of winter waders and shorebirds, including a bathing Long-billed Curlew. Again, nothing unusual. Come on birds! Where are all you oddballs?

Widow's tears, Lafitte's Cove, Galveston Island, Texas
Widow’s tears (Commelina sp.), Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. In fall, widow’s tears bloom only in the morning. Canon EOS 7D/100mm f/2.8L IS Macro (+25mm extension tube II). High-speed synchronized ring-flash.

When no birds were to be seen (and this was most of the time), I turned my lenses on insects and flowers. Elm Lake was ablaze with brilliant yellow Bidens aurea. I am still experimenting with my new 25mm extension tube. This week I discovered the arthropod macrophotography of Thomas Shahan, an Oklahoma artist who has been getting extraordinary results with some rather modest equipment—clearly an impetus to up my own macro game. I even ordered a few new minor gadgets to help out with macro. Overall, I am still waiting for something weird  to happen . . . .

Variegated Meadowhawk, Lafitte's Cove, Galveston Island, Texas
Variegated Meadowhawk (Sympetrum corruptum), Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Lafitte’s Cove is almost as good for dragonflies as it is for migrating birds. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

The invariable mark of wisdom is to see the miraculous in the common.—Ralph Waldo Emerson

©2014 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

More Autumn Birding Adventures

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

©2014 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

The Many Colors of Water

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

 ©2014 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

The Dog Days of Summer Roll On and On

Black-necked Stilt in Late Summer at Anahuac National Wildlife Refuge, Texas
Black-necked Stilt in Late Summer 2011 at Anahuac National Wildlife Refuge, Texas. The broiling, buggy coastal marshes where these birds summer can test the resolve of the birder. But what a cool-looking bird! Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC).

During the past few weeks we haven’t been going out into the field much due to the weather. The dog days of summer are a bit hard to stomach along the Upper Texas Gulf Coast. Patchy rain storms, interspersed with blistering sun, temperatures in the 90’s and dew points in the upper 70’s—not to mention clouds of winged bloodsuckers—can make for tough going. A sense of humor is definitely required.

Driving to High Island last week, passing the turn to Anahauc National Wildlife Refuge I just shook my my head, imagining the bugs. We visited Frenchtown Road, though, on the Bolivar Peninsula, and through the windows of the truck it looked very promising. In fact, Elisa saw a family of Clapper Rails with four young, a first for her. Recent heavy rains and high tide, though, meant everything was soaked and exuding humidity. The instant we opened the truck doors, the cab was flooded with mosquitos. The cloud stayed with the vehicle (in the bed) as we drove away, and even remained as we waited for the ferry to cross to Galveston!

Clapper Rail at McFaddin National Wildlife Refuge, Texas
Clapper Rail at McFaddin National Wildlife Refuge, Texas. Clapper Rails breed in Coastal Texas marshes from late February through September and produce darling fluffy, black young. Frenchtown Road is the most reliable place we know to see Clappers. But for some reason we haven’t been able to get any first-class images there, yet. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

To further dampen our enthusiasm, at East Beach, Galveston, we found astronomical amounts of reeking, rotting seaweed still (summer stuff) covering the beach. Please! A fall storm to wash all this rubbish out to sea! At East Beach we nevertheless tried for some terns in flight. The conditions were strange to say the least: sweltering on the buggy beach in a dead calm shooting at 1/4000 sec with bright sun and simultaneous rain. In early September in Texas, I fantasize about being in the field without being smeared with blood, sweat, and bug parts! Ha!

A close friend and native Houstonian who recently retired to the hills of East Tennessee characterized the close of the Texas dog days best: during September one watches the weather reports from around the country with envious eyes and sees temperatures falling into the 70’s, then 60’s, then 50’s all the while Texas cooks on into month five. But things are changing in subtle ways. The days are decidedly shorter. There is some avian movement: We saw some Spotted Sandpipers at Sea Center Texas. A pair of Cooper’s Hawks has been hanging around our yard and communicating back and forth with their whistling calls. Flycatchers are passing through.

Great Blue Heron in Flight
Great Blue Heron in Flight Over 40-Acre Lake in Late Summer at Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Even BBSP, my favorite birding gem, needs a breath of fresh air by September. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

So while the birding isn’t the best now, there is always research and planning for the future. Although I’m not much of a gear-head, I do read a lot of technical reports on photographic equipment in my spare time. I’m currently waiting to read the official specifications for the much-anticipated Canon EOS 7D Mark 2. What is available indicates not a quantum leap forward (no Foveon sensor!), but rather a series of incremental improvements in resolution, speed, etc.–which is a bit disappointing given the innovative products released during the past two years by Nikon (D800/D810) and Sony (a7R), especially as regards resolution. Perhaps I won’t be an early adopter when this new camera comes out later this year.

Finally, there’s always planning for a retirement that incorporates the seven lovely months in Texas. And they are lovely . . . and just around the corner.

“When action grows unprofitable, gather information; when information grows unprofitable, sleep.” —Ursula K. Le Guin, The Left Hand of Darkness

©2014 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

Birding the Texas Summer Swelter: More Wader Fishing Behavior

Great Blue Heron with Bluegill in Spawning Colors at 40-Acre Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas
Great Blue Heron with Bluegill in Spawning Colors at 40-Acre Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. This bird was the ruler of a string of small marshy “islands” in the northeast corner of the lake. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

Waders are an endless source of birding pleasure for me. Their hunting and fishing strategies are highly varied, and I’m always on the lookout for techniques I’ve not seen before. This summer I spotted a number of interesting new things at Brazos Bend SP.

40-Acre Lake was a hot-bed of wader fishing behavior this summer. A Great Blue Heron with a slightly injured left wing (above) claimed the northeast corner of the lake for itself, frequently driving away lesser birds—like Little Blues, Tri-colored Herons, and Yellow-crowned Night Herons. The Great Blue, however, adhered to an uneasy peace with a Great Egret (shown below) that spent most of its time on the small islands a bit to the south. When they came face to face, they seemed to agree that the balance of powers was such that a fight would be fruitless.

For long stretches of time over a number of days, I observed the same Great Blue hunt and fish rather unsuccessfully—a bug here and there, a few muddled struggles with some snake-like sticks, but no amphibians or big fish. One morning, however, the bird swooped down from a tree top and stabbed the big bluegill in the above photo. The bird spotted the fish from at least 100 yards away, flew over, and speared the fish with a single thrust. No fuss, no muss. In a matter of minutes the fish was manipulated into swallowing position and ingested.

On another occasion, I saw the Great Blue place an insect on the surface of the water and stare at it for a few seconds. A gentle current carried the insect away from the heron. The bird suddenly snapped up and ate the bug before it got too far away. Was this bait-fishing of the type occasionally exhibited by Green Herons? Hard to say, but it’s something new to watch for.

Fishing Great Egret at 40-Acre Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas.
Fishing Great Egret at 40-Acre Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. This bird ruled a steamy archipelago kingdom slightly to the south of the one ruled by the Great Blue. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

One morning I turned my attention from the Great Blue to the Great Egret. It had its head down, and held it there. It took me a moment to realize that the bird was engaged in a type of fishing often utilized by Black-Crowned Night-Herons. The stationary bird opened and closed its beak repeatedly while keeping it in the water, perhaps hoping the gentle rythmic disturbance would attract a fish.

One might surmise that after observing waders regularly in a single park over a few years’ time, the surprises and new observations would cease. This is certainly not the case at Brazos Bend, where nearly every visit opens a new window into avian life.

Novelty has charms that our mind can hardly withstand.–William Makepeace Thackeray

©2014 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

Birds and Their Prey: Identification Challenges

Louisiana Waterthrush with fly larva at Pilant Slough, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas
Louisiana Waterthrush with Fly Larva at Pilant Slough, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. The caterpillar-like arthropod appears to be a large horse fly larva, but I invite comments from anyone who knows better. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Photographing birds is often not easy, and getting them in the act of hunting can be a special challenge. But even after you have the image, the work may not yet be done as prey items can be difficult to identify. Vertebrate prey items (particularly fish) can be challenging, but invertebrates, especially larval forms, can be maddening when your invertebrate biology courses were twenty-plus years ago! The rewards of such research, though, are great. Identifying prey puts you in tune with the bird’s life: Now you know what they’re looking for when you see them poking around in particular habitats, at particular times of the year. For me, this is one of the more interesting aspects of birding, one made possible by the camera.

Female Hooded Oriole with Katydid at Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge, South Texas
Female Hooded Oriole with Katydid at Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge, South Texas. The insect appears to be a spoon-tailed short-winged katydid (Dichopetala catinata), or related form, but I invite comments from anyone who knows better. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

Our retinas and brains have been wired by a hundred million years of evolution to find outlines in a visually complex landscape. This helps us to recognize prey and predators.—Seth Shostak

©2014 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

New Article: American Alligator

A Baby American Alligator on Mom's Back, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas
Baby American Alligator on Mom’s Back, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

All this tromping around during hot weather has put alligators on my mind! Please check out the new article American Alligator: Training for the Tropics on the Texan Riviera.

Danger is cool.—Bryan Cranston

©2014 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

The Adaptable Cattle Egret

Cattle Egret with Feral Hog at Pilant Slough, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas
In Deepest, Darkest Texas: Cattle Egret with feral hog at Pilant Slough, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. True pigs have been in the New World for centuries due to human introduction. Cattle Egrets commonly follow cattle around Texas pastures, but this is the first time I have seen the birds shadowing prey-flushing pigs. All photos Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC).

Cattle Egrets are among my favorite waders. They are slightly sinister in appearance and behavior as they sneak and skulk around the margins of grasslands and marshes in search of invertebrate and small vertebrate prey. And judging by their large minimum approach distance they are among the most suspicious and distrustful of birds.

Given their dislike of people, it’s ironic that the rapid expansion of Cattle Egrets across the New World in the latter half of the 20th Century has been aided by human agriculture. Not long before the 20th Century the Cattle Egret was an Old World species. The first Cattle Egret was seen in the New World in 1877; in North America in 1941, and it began breeding in Florida in 1953. Today, Cattle Egrets are widely distributed across the Americas.

A Cattle Egret in Breeding Colors at Smith Oaks Rookery, High Island, Texas
Spectacular: A Cattle Egret in Breeding Colors at Smith Oaks Rookery, High Island, Texas. Natural light.

Although we think that the Cattle Egret reached the New World on its own, the widespread distribution of livestock here, particularly cattle, has has greatly facilitated the bird’s spread. Today, Cattle Egrets snapping up grasshoppers and other prey flushed by cattle (or farm implements!) is a common American sight.

So in the Americas, the Cattle Egret is not a human-introduced species. Yet, I find it hard to consider it precisely a native species (over much of its range) given its close association with domesticated livestock. The Cattle Egret exists exactly at the intersection of man and the rest of nature. It is one of those species well adapted to live in a human-influenced, agricultural landscape. And, as the human population increases with its ever-increasing appetite for meat and animal products, the Cattle Egret’s future looks bright indeed.

Mating Cattle Egrets at the Smith Oaks Rookery, High Island, Texas
Mating Cattle Egrets at the Smith Oaks Rookery, High Island, Texas. Cattle Egrets now breed in rookeries with native species such as Great Egrets, Roseate Spoonbills, Tricolored Herons, and Snowy Egrets. Natural light.

It is not the strongest or the most intelligent who will survive but those who can best manage change.—Charles Darwin 

©2014 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.