For man, as for flower and beast and bird, the supreme triumph is to be most vividly, most perfectly alive.–D. H. Lawrence
Male Cape May Warbler on Bottlebrush Tree Flower, Catholic Cemetery, Dauphin Island, Alabama. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized flash.
Plants of the Australian Genus Melaleuca (also sometimes referred to as “Callistemon”), the twenty-five to fifty or so species of bottlebrush (depending on author), are widely used around the world in Tropical and Subtropical gardens and have naturalized in a few places as well, where freezes are not too hard or often.
Male Prothonotary Warbler on Bottlebrush Tree Flower, Catholic Cemetery, Dauphin Island, Alabama. Note the dark staining on the forehead—a result of being smeared with nectar? Only some of the Prothonotary Warblers at this site had the dark brownish/reddish staining, despite Tennessee and Cape May Warblers also feeding here. Perhaps the Prothonotary Warblers got into some other species of flower before visiting the bottlebrush? Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized flash.
Few plants are as attractive to birds as the bottlebrush tree. When you see bottlebrush flowers on the Gulf Coast during migration, stop and linger. Here, bottlebrush are usually the crimson-flowered variety (although I have seen the white and green kinds) and are often buzzing with hummingbirds and songbirds. Warblers, tanagers, buntings, and orioles seem to be especially drawn to these flowers.
Bottlebrush flowers have a number of attractive features. They are reported to produce copious nectar and pollen. Some birds feeding on the flowers are covered in pollen and may have heads and faces stained with yellow pollen and/or nectar. Although in most cases birds probably only acquire minimal additional nutritional benefit from pollen, the nectar must be a welcome burst of calories after a daunting trans-gulf flight.
Bottlebrush trees also attract nutritious insects, ants especially. I have seen Scarlet Tanagers, well-known as bee-feeding specialists, plucking bees off the flowers, too. A have read reports of Australian parrots feeding on buds, but I’ve not witnessed any similar bird behavior in the U.S.
So what do the Bottlebrush Trees get in return from the birds? Short answer: pollination. Nectar-hungry birds deliver pollen grains from the anthers of flowers onto the stigmas of others thus fertilizing the plants.
Young Male Orchard Oriole on Bottlebrush Tree, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.Female Scarlet Tanager on Bottlebrush Tree, Catholic Cemetery, Dauphin Island, Alabama. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized flash.
Finally, I am not generally a fan of exotic plants in the landscape. Exotics reportedly do not support the diversity of insect life that is so critical to maintaining healthy bird populations. Bottlebrush is a tough call, though. Covered in birds and bugs, these glorious plants provide an oasis for birds and birders alike.
Young Male Indigo Bunting on Bottlebrush Tree, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Note the yellow pollen on this bird’s face and head. Birders can sometimes be heard arguing in the field about identifications based on “yellow faces!” Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
Few birds have been so well named. This warbler is black and white, just exactly that, no more, no less.—Alexander Sprunt, Jr. (1957)
Male Black and White Warbler, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Photo taken March 12, 2013. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
I remember the first time I saw a Black and White Warbler. The bird was gleaning bugs from a black willow tree on the south shore of Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park. I recall being amazed that such a striking bird could be found outside the Tropics. Although Black and White Warblers summer from the Yukon to South Texas, they winter mostly along coasts from the Carolinas to northern South America.
As noted, some Black and White Warblers do winter along the Upper Texas Gulf Coast, but during migrations is really the time you can expect to see them. In spring, their numbers peak here during the middle of the migration, namely April. This year, during our last two trips to Lafitte’s Cove in late March and early April, the number of Black and White Warblers we saw about equalled the number of other migratory songbirds combined, including Yellow-throated, Black-throated Green, Myrtle, Orange-crowned, and Hooded Warblers, Northern Parula, and White-eyed Vireos.
Female Black and White Warbler, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Photo taken October 19, 2013. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
Rarely mistakable for any other species, the creeper-like hunting behavior alone is usually enough to recognize Black and White Warblers. And males and females are easy to tell apart. Males have black cheeks, lores, and throats. Females are pale gray in these areas. Mr. Sprunt notwithstanding, female birds will also sometimes have a wash of pale brown (“buff”) on the sides—this is a nice departure from some warbler species in which even with a good photo in hand and a stack of references, it’s tough to sex the birds.
As we get deeper into spring migration and more rare and unusual warbler species start to show up, the impact of seeing Black and White Warblers will start to fade a bit. But Black and White Warblers are definitely part of what makes migration so wonderful here along the Gulf Coast: The skies and vegetation are filled with a spectacular spattering of avian colors.
Male Black and White Warbler, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Photo taken May 3, 2013. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
Reference
Sprunt, Alexander, Jr. 1957. Black and White Warbler, in Ludlow Grissom and Alexander Sprunt, Jr., eds., The Warblers of North America. The Devin-Adair Company, New York. 356p.
This handsome, often hard to see, warbler is rightly connected in the minds of some with the coniferous north woods.—Alexander Sprunt, Jr. and A.E. Allin (1957)
Female Black-throated Green Warbler, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. This is likely a first-year bird. Photo taken on May 3, 2013. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
For those of us along the Gulf Coast, the Black-throated Green Warbler is, of course, associated not with conifers, but with migration. These showy birds cross the U.S. from South Texas to Florida on their way north from the lands surrounding the Caribbean Sea to the Appalachians and the Boreal forests of Newfoundland to British Columbia.
Bathing Adult Male Black-throated Green Warbler, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Ah! It’s nice to freshen up after a flight across the Gulf of Mexico! The strong black throat and distinct streaks on the back indicate that this bird is an adult male. Photo taken on May 4, 2013. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
The impending spring Neotropical songbird migration has me brushing up on my warbler field marks. Given that similar-looking species (Hermit, Golden-cheeked, and Townsend’s Warblers) follow more western migratory paths, there is rarely any doubt that one is dealing with a Black-throated Green Warbler along the Upper Texas Coast. Aging and sexing these birds, however, is another matter—especially when sightings occur at random angles in patchy, broken light within the foliage of leafed-out trees.
My go-to reference book for warblers is The Warbler Guide by Stephenson and Whittle (2013). In matters of sexing and aging, these authors suggest paying attention to streaking on the back, the amount of black in the throat, and the nature of mottling on the breast. Males tend to be more streaked on the back and have black throats and greater contrast. Note the two birds above. The female, for example, has a pale-yellow black-flecked throat, streaking is nearly absent on the mantle, and black mottles on the breast trail off into broken streaks along the sides. This bird strongly resembles the first-year female figured in Stephenson and Whittle (2013), p. 205. The male above is unmistakable in lateral view with its black throat stretching into a strong black streak along the sides. The bird below shows the least contrast of birds in this post and is likely a female.
Black-throated Green Warblers typically show up along the Gulf Coast late in the middle of the spring migration, making the first week of May the ideal time to watch for them as they glean insects from the mighty hardwoods of migrant traps. Although these charming little birds are among the most common gems of the avian treasure trove that is about to return to North America, they are well worth the effort to seek out, identify, and study.
Dull (Low-contrast) Female Black-throated Green Warbler, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Photo taken on May 5, 2013. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
References
Sprunt, Alexander, Jr. and Allin, A. E. 1957. Black-throated Green Warbler, in Ludlow Grissom and Alexander Sprunt, Jr., eds., The Warblers of North America. The Devin-Adair Company, New York. 356p.
Stephenson, Tom, and Whittle, Scott. 2013. The Warbler Guide. Princeton University Press. 554p.
Life stands before me like an eternal spring with new and brilliant clothes.–Carl Friedrich Gauss
Female Great Horned Owl on Nest, Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, Austin, Texas. This wild bird has selected a brick planter to nest in for the past six years. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Before the vegetation of the region becomes a burnt offering to the terrible sun god, Huitzilopochtli, I highly recommend making a visit to Central Texas for the spectacular wildflower show. Those of stout enough heart to brave the Death Race 2000-like conditions on the highways in the Austin area will find a real treat in the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center. But go early in the day, as by 10am there are squadrons of bonneted, wildflower-obsessed infants in their strollers being pushed by tenders.
Wild Foxglove (Penstemon cobaea), Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, Austin, Texas. This plant is not related to true foxglove. Canon EOS 7DII/100mm f/2.8L IS Macro. High-speed synchronized macro ring-flash.Gray Globemallow (Sphaeralcea incana), Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, Austin, Texas. A native of the Chihuahuan and Sonoran Deserts, this plant reportedly explodes in numbers after wet winters. I’ve never seen it in the wild. Canon EOS 7DII/100mm f/2.8L IS Macro. High-speed synchronized macro ring-flash.
A few birds were singing and flitting about the wildflower center when visited. These were mostly common species, Northern Cardinal, Carolina Wren, and Northern Mockingbird—and, of course, the Great Horned Owl above. A few Black-chinned Hummingbirds were also drinking nectar from autumn sage.
While at the center, I practiced some standard botanical macrophotography. The great thing about the center is the diversity of plants from a wide range of habitats across Texas. Many species are labeled, enabling the visitor to easily learn a few more Texas native plants. There are some unusual (and photogenic) species that I’ve never seen in the wild, despite having spent quite a bit of time outdoors attentive to such matters.
Mexican Buckeye (Ungnadia speciosa), Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, Austin, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/100mm f/2.8L IS Macro. High-speed synchronized macro ring-flash.Indian Paintbrush (Castilleja indivisa), Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, Austin, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/100mm f/2.8L IS Macro. High-speed synchronized macro ring-flash.
The visit to the Wildflower Center was a nice tonic after questing after, but not seeing, the elusive Golden-Cheeked Warbler. On the past two visits to the Lost Maples State Natural Area in previous years, we successfully heard and saw the singing male birds. Not being up for such a long trek this spring break, we visited the Travis Audubon Baker Sanctuary instead. But alas, no warblers. Maybe next time.
For the rest of spring break 2016, we’ll stick close to home and see what the local critters are up to.
Pulmonate Snail, Prairie Trail, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/100mm f/2.8L IS Macro. High-speed synchronized macro ring-flash.
A cloudy day or a little sunshine have as great an influence on many constitutions as the most recent blessings or misfortunes.–Joseph Addison
Reddish Egret in the Fog, South Padre Island Birding and Nature Center, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
I am sometimes surprised by which images turn out and which don’t. Light is magic, and photography is all about light. By magic I mean inexplicable—or at least very hard to explain in the context of how a camera records light. Case in point: we were recently attempting to photograph Sandhill Cranes in a field on Galveston Island. It was a clear, beautiful day, and I had a distant but unobstructed view of the birds. I wasn’t expecting National Geographic results because the cranes were too far away, but shot after shot was utter garbage.
The humidity was low (which was good), but it was windy (which was bad). I could tell that the UV index was high (I got a sunburn through sunscreen), and I just couldn’t achieve focus using autofocus or manual focus. I first tried bracing the lens on a fence post with image stabilization turned on, then off. When that failed, I returned to best practices: tripod with cable release. But still, everything farther than about ten yards away was blurry and washed out. Was invisible (to the unaided eye) turbulence creating some sort of mirage-like effect? I turned the camera on and off—even switched bodies thinking that there was a malfunction. Somehow, conditions simply weren’t right for photography—black magic. The next day I looked like W. C. Fields with windburn, sunburn, and a bar tan.
What a Shorebird Sees: Mostly Mud. Semipalmated Plover, South Padre Island Birding and Nature Center, Texas. Sandpipers and plovers scurry along the tidal mudflats all day day long waiting for infaunal invertebrates to betray their positions. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Other days, with fog or rain or lots of gray gloomy clouds, strangely, and against all odds, some nice images can be captured—white magic. I know that some photographers and viewers even prefer the look of results achieved during these dark, gloomy overcast days. All the images in this post were taken on a road trip to South Texas a few years ago. In fact, all were taken on the same day, except the kingfisher. And it was a winter like this one, with lots of rain and clouds and fog and mist and cursing by yours truly.
Female Green Kingfisher, South Texas. We found this bird at a strange little city park in South Texas. I remember the day (we sneaked up on a Harris’s Hawk that was hiding in a bush), but can’t recall the name of the town. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural gloomy light.
Of course, these dark days test your skills. To keep ISO below 800 for reasonable image quality means shooting at ridiculously slow shutter speeds (like 1/80 to 1/320) and breaking the 1/f shutter speed rule that I like to follow–even on a tripod with cable release. At these slow speeds, you’re in mirror-slap territory, especially on a tripod, and any puff of wind or contact with the gear can have deleterious effects. And patience is required to capture even the hint of a catchlight, an important aspect of wildlife photography.
Finally, because I pursue this hobby for personal growth and physical and mental health, seeing sunlight is so important. Like most Americans I suspect that I am Vitamin D deficient due to being cooped up so much at work. On these gray days, the spirits lift during an occasional sunbreak. The image of the Common Yellowthroat below was happily captured at the end of a gloomy, misty day just as the clouds parted (finally!) at dusk.
Common Yellowthroat among Cattails, South Padre Island Birding and Nature Center, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes.
Open, locks,
Whoever knocks.—William Shakespeare, Macbeth (Act 4, Scene 1)
Young Red-tailed Hawk, Anahuac National Wildlife Refuge, Texas. Elisa captured this image of a hawk that was hunting among the thickets. Most young hawks don’t make it into fully adult plumage. I rediscovered this image while perusing our archives on a miserable rainy day. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS. Natural light.
During the dreary, rain-spoilt part of last weekend, in bitter anticipation of the next monster rain storm (Monday into Tuesday), I perused our photo archives in search of interesting tidbits to brighten my mood. Some nice shots I’d forgotten about did resurface, like the hawk above.
But birds do often lead a more hardscrabble life than we sometimes think. Not surprisingly, close re-inspection of images sometimes yields evidence of disease or parasites. The Bay-breasted Warbler below–that frustratingly stayed in the shadows of a thicket–turned out to have a tick above the left eye, for example. Birds are subject to infestation by a variety of disease-causing ticks, and some researchers worry about the introduction of diseases into North America by migrating Neotropical birds.
Bay-breasted Warbler with Tick, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. This bird was part of small wave of Bay-breasted Warblers that showed up at Lafitte’s Cove for a few days during spring migration 2015. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
In addition to evidence of parasitism and disease, I sometimes find physical injury to birds when I return to the archives and really scrutinize the images. In the field I didn’t notice the spine-like projection under the lower jaw in the Lesser Yellowlegs below. At first, I thought the spine might really be a spine—as in a fin-spine that pierced the floor of the lower jaw, perhaps when the bird attempted to swallow a fish. But clearly a fish with a fin spin that large would be too large to attempt to swallow. On closer inspection, it appears (based on color and texture) that the spine is a shard of the lower jaw that continued to grow, perhaps after being fractured. If any readers know more about the origin of such injuries, I would be interested in hearing about it.
The result of these sorts of searches serve to remind that nature, like the world of Man, can be a harsh place. Birds face a gauntlet of challenges, and I often regret not being able to do more to preserve them and their world.
Injured Lesser Yellowlegs, lagoon near Bryan Beach, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
All the revision in the world will not save a bad first draft: for the architecture of the thing comes, or fails to come, in the first conception, and revision only affects the detail and ornament, alas!–T. E. Lawrence
Magnolia Warbler During Fall Migration, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
May the sun bring you new energy by day, may the moon softly restore you by night, may the rain wash away your worries, may the breeze blow new strength into your being, may you walk gently through the world and know it’s beauty all the days of your life.―Apache Blessing
Pyrrhuloxia on Hackberry, Sam Nail Ranch, Big Bend National Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Big Bend National Park (BBNP) is in one of the most spectacular corners of Texas. Broadly, BBNP consists of three major zones: Chihuahuan Desert, Chisos Mountains, and riparian habitats flanking the Rio Grande River. BBNP boasts the largest number of recorded species of birds of any U.S. national park (around 450), with about 50 being permanent residents, the others being nesters or migrants. BBNP is certainly one of the crown jewels of Texas birding.
For this trip we stayed at the Chisos Mountain Lodge in the “basin,” a depression in the center of the Chisos Mountains at an elevation of around 5400 feet. The Chisos are erosional remnants of Tertiary volcanoes that punched up through the local stratigraphic column. This volcanism ended around 12 million years ago. Surprisingly, the weather near the lodge was fairly pleasant even in early August, with highs around 90° F and lows in the mid-60°s F. Only during the heat of the day was it impossible to photo-bird due to the blazing sun. Around the lodge we saw numerous Say’s Phoebes, Canyon Towhees, and Scott’s Orioles.
In many ways, the lodge area is similar to Cave Creek Canyon in the Chiricauhua Mountains region of southeast Arizona, perhaps our favorite birding destination of all. Both are mountainous madrean “sky islands” in the surrounding desert. In the case of the Chiricauhuas, though, the mountains are surrounded from the east by the Chihuahuan Desert and from the west by the Sonoran Desert, whereas the Chisos reside entirely within the Chihuahuan Desert.
Chihuahuan Desert, Big Bend National Park, Texas. Much of the lower elevation parts of BBNP look like this: a desolate rocky landscape dotted with ocotillo, creosote, mesquite, sotol, agave, and grasses. Canon EOS 7DII/Tokina 11-16 @16mm. Natural light. Hand-held.
For this trip we decided to work primarily at low elevation, reserving high elevation hot spots for a future trip in an upcoming May to see (among others) the famous singing male Colima warblers. Working at low elevation meant birding during early mornings and evenings only. From 10am to 7pm in the desert the temperatures routinely topped 100° F, and the sun cut like a knife.
Singing Yellow-breasted Chat, Sam Nail Ranch, Big Bend National Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Much of the best birding at low elevation in BBNP is to be found at abandoned ranches. Here, wells provide the life-giving water that makes these spots oases in the desert. Our first stop was the Sam Nail Ranch where we were thrilled to find both birds and shade.
At Sam Nail, we spent most of the time shooting from behind the ruin of a mud wall into a thicket backed by cottonwood and pecan trees. In general, the birds were wary and did not allow a close approach, and after about 9am, the light was incredibly harsh. In any case, we saw Varied and Painted Buntings, Yellow-breasted Chats, Northern Cardinals and Mockingbirds, Pyrrhuloxias, a variety of flycatchers (the subject of a future post), Bell’s and Hutton’s Vireos, Blue-gray Gnatcatchers, Summer Tanagers, Blue Grosbeaks, Ladderback and Golden-fronted Woodpeckers, and White-winged Doves (Mexican mountain race).
The Painted Buntings, Blue Grosbeaks, Yellow-breasted Chats, Northern Cardinals, and vireos were all singing at Sam Nail. Likewise Cactus Wrens and a variety of other wrens and thrashers could be heard singing and calling from the surrounding desert.
On the second morning, Elisa turned around to find a Bobcat sitting in the path behind us, but the beast was within the minimum focus distance of her 500mm lens! Later we heard a low feline growl emanating from the thicket behind us, and we decided to cut our visit short: an estimated 25 Mountain Lions live in BBNP and attacks on humans are not unknown.
One evening we also visited Dugout Wells, another abandoned ranch, where we found numerous Pyrrhuloxias, woodpeckers, and thrashers. Loggerhead Shrikes hunted the ranch, and I made a half-hearted attempt to find shrike kills posted on thorns, but frankly the heat was so intense that I could hardly move carrying the 600mm lens and had to photograph Jackrabbits and Desert Cottontails from a patch of shade until the insane fireball in the sky disappeared behind a distant thunderhead.
Jackrabbit at Dusk, Dugout Wells, Big Bend National Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Although Roadrunners are common throughout the park, we decided to take a special trip to the Rio Grande Village camp grounds and Daniels Ranch one morning to see and attempt to photograph them up close. Roadrunners were as abundant as reported in A field Guide to the Birds of Big Bend by Roland Wauer–as were Inca Doves, woodpeckers, and flycatchers (including summering Vermilion flycatchers). But by 9:30am it was so sweltering that we decided to move on to higher elevation.
Roadrunner Portrait, Rio Grande Village, Big Bend National Park, Texas. You know it’s hot when Roadrunners are suffering. This bird was engaged in a number of thermoregulatory behaviors including resting in the shade, gaping, gular fluttering, and feather rousing to expose bare skin to the air. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Hand-held from truck; natural light.
Big Bend is one of those majestic places that demand repeated and prolonged visits. And we are drawing up plans to visit again during the other seasons. I can hardly wait.
And I, what fountain of fire am I among
This leaping combustion of spring? My spirit is tossed
About like a shadow buffeted in the throng
Of flames, a shadow that’s gone astray, and is lost.
—Enkindled Spring, D.H. Lawrence
Tsveet tsveet tsveet . . . Singing Male Golden Swamp Warbler, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. This fellow is nesting in Nest Box 24. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
The primaveral combustion of brilliantly colored Neotropical migrant songbirds and shorebirds molting into breeding plumage is giving way to the vernal, thermal Texas combustion. But every spring migration is a bit different. It seems that we saw less than last year, and certainly far less than the previous one—but not for want of trying. And I’ve got the bites, scratches, and poison ivy blisters to prove it.
Immature Male Summer Tanager, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
This was the year of seeing Tanagers (Summer and Scarlet), Eastern Wood-pewees, and Bay-breasted Warblers. Of the Pewees, we heard even more than we saw. Everywhere we went in April and May the pee-ah-wee or wee-ooo could be heard. But luck would have it that we saw far fewer warblers and other songbirds than usual—no swarms of Hooded, Yellow, or Magnolia Warblers, just the odd bird here and there poking around in the woods.
Eastern Wood-pewee at Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Many flycatchers are like peas in a pod, but Eastern Wood-pewees can be identified by their weak, partial posterior eye-ring, two weak wing bars, and yellow lower beak. Eastern Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
So, as the migration tapers off, it’s time to transition into summer birding mode. My time and mind will soon be filled by planning for the upcoming big birding trips (Yea, mountains!) and stalking waders around the swamps and marshes as they hunt and fish their way through the broiling Texas summer.
Short-billed Dowitcher, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Short-billed Dowitchers winter along the Texas Gulf Coast and breed across Canada and Alaska at the latitude of Hudson Bay. Short-billed Dowitchers and Long-billed Dowitchers are very hard to tell apart. In breeding plumage, Short-bills are orangish and Long-bills are brick-reddish, but light can play tricks. I always measure the proportions of the bird’s head in my images to be sure. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Bathing Tennessee Warblers, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. The bird on the left is clearly a male Tennessee Warbler. The bird on the right resembles an Orange-crowned Warbler, but it has bright white undertail coverts and a very short tail: I think it is a female Tennessee Warbler. Some Tennessee Warblers are circum-Gulf migrants, and others are trans-Gulf migrants. Photo taken in early May during spring migration. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
Most birds are enthusiastic bathers. They bathe in standing water, rain, dew, wet leaves—even dust. This bathing keeps feathers in optimal condition for flight and thermoregulation. Excess oil and bits of detritus that can clog or dishevel the fine structure of feathers (barbules and barbicels) can be removed by a good rinse. After a flight across (or around) the Gulf of Mexico, it probably feels pretty good, too. Many birds wade out into to shallow water and splash around a bit, usually producing a spectacular shower of droplets. The salinity seems not to matter much, as birds bathe in fresh, brackish, and salt water with equal gusto. For a discussion of bird bathing in gory detail see that monumental tome, Terres (1991).
Bathing White Ibis, Paradise Pond, Mustang Island, Port Aransas, Texas. Paradise Pond sits on a perched water table, and provides an oasis of fresh drinking water in a land- and seascape of salty habitats. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.Portrait: Bathing Female Rose-breasted Grosbeak, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Note the berry stains on her beak and the glistening droplets of bath water on her feathers. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
The best place that I knew of to watch bathing Neotropical migrant songbirds was the main dripper at Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. During past migrations it was commonplace to observe Northern Parulas, Tennessee, Black-throated Green, Magnolia, Yellow, Hooded, Yellow-rumped, Black and White, and sometimes other less common warblers, plus vireos, cardinals, catbirds, grosbeaks, tanagers, and orioles bathing in the shallow water. Typically after bathing, birds would fly up to a low branch to fluff and preen—thus avoiding the snakes and cats that prey on drinking and bathing birds in the sanctuary.
A visit to the site this week, though, revealed that the dripper area has been (Gasp!) remodeled! A Wooden table-like platform now sits where the main pool used to be. This new arrangement seems much less conducive to bathing, but further observation is required to make a final pronouncement. (Sidebar: for anyone thinking of visiting Lafitte’s Cove, as of last Sunday, Hooded and Black and White Warblers and Yellow-throated Vireos were about—but, the flood of migrants hadn’t yet started.).
Bathing Black Skimmer in the Steel-gray Light of Dusk, Hans and Pat Suter City Wildlife Park, Corpus Christi, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
Birds display a wonderful range of behavior to be observed and photographed. Much of it involves water, including drinking, bathing and fishing. Waders will even dip prey items into water before swallowing to rinse off grit and provide lubrication. Clearly the best places to go birding are around water. Although I enjoy observing all types of bird behavior, my favorite type of bird photography is still documenting hunting and fishing strategies (and predator-prey interactions—you knew I had to sneak one of those in!).
Gulp! Great Blue Heron Eating Bullfrog, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
Reference
Terres, John K. 1991. The Audubon Society Encyclopedia of North American Birds. Wings Books. New York. 1109 p.
I could tell my parents hated me. My bath toys were a toaster and a radio.—Rodney Dangerfield
Gulf Coast Winterer: Cedar Waxwing, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Berry-seeking nomads, Cedar Waxwings winter from across the southern U.S. to South America and summer from the southern U.S. to Canada south of Hudson Bay. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Mid-March, while still technically winter, shows the stirrings of spring. From a birder’s perspective, this time of year along the Upper Texas Gulf Coast has much to offer. Although crane flies abound and provide snacks for songbirds, mosquitos have not yet hatched in significant numbers. Also, many wintering bird species remain, and early spring migrants are starting to appear. Of course, year-round residents continue to go about their business as always. All photos in this post were taken in March.
Year-round Resident: Inca Dove, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Inca doves are secretive, hiding in low vegetation. Canon 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Also on the plus-side, March nests are easier to find than April ones because leaves are just beginning to fill out. So far, I’ve spotted an active Great Horned Owl nest at Brazos Bend, a Pileated Woodpecker cavity nest at the Edith L. Moore Nature Sanctuary, and a Red-headed Woodpecker cavity nest at Stephen F. Austin State Park. Red-shouldered Hawks are also nesting in the west Houston area. Obtaining good images of the occupants of these nests has so far remained elusive, though. Persistent cloudiness, rain, and blown-out white skies have doomed several attempts. Maybe next week!
Neotropical Migrant: Male Northern Parula, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. Northern Parulas breed across the eastern U.S. and winter across the Caribbean, South Florida, and the Rio Grande Valley down to Panama. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). High-speed synchronized fill-flash.
Spring won’t let me stay in this house any longer! I must get out and breathe the air deeply again.—Gustav Mahler
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. 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 (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
