It’s been quite a few weeks since I checked in at the Turkey Creek Sanctuary. Although I wasn’t expecting too much, it was nice to take in the familiar sights and sounds of the place.
I arrived just after sunrise and managed to do the majority of the jogging trail, the boardwalk and the Sand Pine Trail in about three hours.
The Sanctuary doing its best to look primeval.
I also used this as an opportunity to count birds for my first “official” eBird checklist. I’ve been reluctant to make any checklists on eBird for a variety of reasons. For one, when there are larger numbers of individuals of a species, especially if they are encountered at various points though a hike, I don’t trust my count. I used to carry a notebook around and that might certainly help, but I find that I sometimes get too caught up in following a bird or watching what it’s doing, then I would forget to count the numbers. I realize that seems a bit lame, but I did make it a goal this year to start making an effort to use eBird.
I counted quite a number of Northern Cardinals, which is not surprising – this park is usually overrun with them. I tracked a few Northern Parulas both on the boardwalk and on McKinnon’s Way, and finally managed to get sight of one high in the canopy. I wasn’t sure what I was seeing, at first, until I realized the bird had no tail feathers! Whether this was from parasites, molting, or an attack by a predator, I have no way of knowing, but he was singing and foraging like all was well, otherwise.
Tail-less Northern Parula.
There was little else to document, apart from some woodpeckers and Carolina Wrens scattered here and there. The highest concentration of birdlife was near the canal and weir. There were Blue Jays (one of which was imitating a Red-shouldered Hawk so well that it got a hawk to answer its calls from across the canal), Fish Crows, Mourning Doves, and White-eyed Vireos along the jogging path before the weir. At the canal itself there was an assemblage of birds just behind the floating barrier.
Two of four Mottled Duck juveniles (I think they are past the “chick” stage here) that were resting with 2 adults.
Along with Mottled Ducks and a few American Coots and Common Gallinules, there were two Green Herons and Two Killdeer probing the mud and vegetation. I was a little surprised not to see any other herons or egrets near the canal.
And the species list in the same order as the eBird checklist:
6 Mottled Ducks
2 Green Herons
2 Black Vultures
1 Turkey Vulture
2 Red-shouldered Hawks
3 Common Gallinules
2 American Coots
2 Killdeers
1 Common Ground Dove
3 Mourning Doves
5 Chimney Swifts
2 Red-bellied Woodpeckers
2 Downy Woodpeckers
3 Great Crested Flycatchers
3 White-eyed Vireos
4 Blue Jays
3 Fish Crows
5 Carolina Wrens
6 Blue-gray Gnatcatchers
5 Northern Parulas
A LOT of Northern Cardinals
I expect the situation at Turkey Creek will be fairly stable for the next month or so, with some of the breeding birds raising their young and some fledglings venturing out. Some of the early migration vanguard will start to arrive later in August, but until then things should remain quiet.
This past Sunday was an epic day-trip around Osceola County, with hopes to find Burrowing Owls, Red-headed and Red-cockaded Woodpeckers, maybe some Whooping Cranes, and anything else that might cross our paths.
Our first stop was to find some Burrowing Owls along Deer Park Road, west of the St. Johns River. While there are clear hotspots with some very personable owls out toward the Gulf Coast, the possibility of this species within about 30 minutes of home was too good to ignore. Most of the area near Nova Road and Deer Park road is a cattle ranch, and on the left or northbound side of the road there were indeed many head of cattle with tall grassy vegetation. On the right side, though, the fields were cropped very short and there were no cows. There were, however, quite a few Sandhill Cranes. I counted just about 40 adult sized birds, in pairs and larger groups, spread throughout one field.
The cranes feeding at this location had a rusty wash in their feathers, something the cranes closer to home in Brevard County seem to lack.
There were also Eastern Meadowlarks, some Northern Mockingbirds, and even a Northern Bobwhite. Unlike the bobwhites I’ve encountered at both the Cruickshank Sanctuary and Joe Overstreet Road, this bird was not very shy and was flying and running around in the open.
We parked not far from the Nova Road intersection and walked south, keeping an eye on the fence line. After about a thousand feet there was a small, bullet shaped bird on a fence post. We cautiously moved closer until we got a decent look in binoculars and saw it was a Burrowing Owl (and just about where we saw the first marker on eBird). After going back to bring the vehicle closer, we moved in to get some better photographs. We noticed another owl on a post nearby, and then another further down the road. One eventually flew into the grass near the first owl, but the others stayed on the posts and watched us closely, not the least perturbed.
The lighting was really tough, I took as many photos as I could, hoping at least a handful would be useful to me. After a while we didn’t want to overstay our welcome to their roadside perches and moved on. This was a life bird for both me and Camille, so we were really pumped and hoped it would set the tone for the rest of the day.
Our next stop was to revisit Brinson Park in Kissimmee, hopeful to see the Fulvous Whistling Ducks that are continuing to be reported on eBird. The same mix of birds from the last time was present: Roseate Spoonbills, Limpkins, White and Glossy Ibises, lots of Boat-tailed Grackles and Red-winged Blackbirds, a Black-necked Stilt and an assemblage of herons and egrets. One of the Tricolored Herons was doing a Reddish Egret impression, lurching and spinning around near the shoreline. I’ve never observed any other heron hunt this way (Snowy Egrets will sometimes lunge or shuffle at prey, but never in the “drunken” manner of a Reddish Egret).
We walked along the shoreline, scanning the vegetation for Fulvous Whistling Ducks, but there were none to be seen. A couple from Scotland were photographing birds, so I asked if they had any idea where the ducks might be, but they didn’t know. After a lovely conversation with them, we crossed the road over to the marshy area north of the lake.
There were more Black-necked Stilts, spoonbills, and herons. Some ducks just past the edge of my binocular’s reach looked promising, but the distance and lighting made it impossible to know for certain that they were not Black-bellied instead of Fulvous.
A motley crew of egrets, spoonbills and ibises across from Brinson Park and Lake Tohopekaliga.
Continuing the tour of central Florida, we headed to Joe Overstreet Road, hopeful for possible Burrowing Owls, Red-headed Woodpeckers, and perhaps even Whooping Cranes (at the nearby Double C Bar Ranch). We struck out on all accounts there, but we did see more Eastern Meadowlarks and some American and Fish crows.
With two insects stuffed into its beak, it’s possible this meadowlark was just extremely hungry. It’s more likely that there are young mouths to feed.
At Joe Overstreet Landing it was fairly quiet, though we did see two Bald Eagles and a few herons and egrets, widely scattered around the lake’s edge. The heat of the day was already building, but we were still hopeful to catch some Red-headed Woodpeckers or even an outside chance for Red-cockaded Woodpeckers at the Three Lakes Wildlife Management Area.
Three Lakes is one of a few areas in Florida with Red-cockaded Woodpeckers. Just a couple of decades ago, this species’ future was bleak. The birds require a very specific pine flatwoods habitat with large, older trees they can nest in. Unfortunately, naturally occurring nest trees had been cut down for lumber and development, so the birds had no where to breed. When we discussed Red-cockaded Woodpeckers in an Environmental Geography class in college, some predictions had the birds extinct by the end of the 1990s. Then something extraordinary happened. Someone got the idea of cutting into younger pines and embedding a nest box, then sealing it up. And that crazy idea has worked! There are now Red-cockaded Woodpeckers breeding at Three Lakes WMA as well as the Hal Scott Preserve and their numbers have been increasing. They still have a long way to go, and the birds are extensively monitored.
Unlike many woodpeckers that use dead trees for nests, Red-cockaded Woodpeckers prefer mature (as in hundreds of years old), living trees with heart rot. The relatively young trees of the pine flatwoods here don’t have heart rot, so this nest box solution was devised.
We started at the Prairie Lakes Unit, but the temperature was getting really high and most birds were inactive and sheltering from the Sun. There was a Bald Eagle nest with an adult using it as a large sun shade.
This nest has a nice built in rain and sun shelter.
We were making our way to an observation tower at the edge of Lake Jackson, and the habitat looked lovely. It might have been a miscalculation not to split up the goals of this trip into two separate trips. The woodpeckers are best found when they first leave their nests for the day at dawn. Finding them in the vast pine flatwoods during the afternoon would have been by “lucking into” them, as Laura Erickson says. At the gate at the end of the road a solitary Swallow-tailed Kite soared low over the tree tops and was gone in the warm breeze before I could even raise my camera.
We did eventually make it to the tower, by way of a half-mile side trail through a hammock habitat near the lake. The signage was confusing at first because it indicated the tower access was through those woods. It turns out that the tower was only a few hundred yards ahead of the hammock trail!
Nearer the tower, there were several immature White-eyed Vireos that I got great binocular views of, but they were hopping through some dense branches making photography difficult. Fish Crows buzzed the tower a couple of times, too. There were a few Common Gallinules scattered on the lake below, but I expect there are plenty of waterfowl and wading birds during the winter.
Lake Jackson, brimming with potential. I’ll be back this fall and winter.
From the Prairie Lakes unit, it’s a short drive over to the Main Unit and the promise of Red-headed Woodpeckers, more Red-cockaded Woodpecker nest trees and whatever else might be there. The afternoon was wearing on and as the sun lowered some bird activity began to rise.
First, there were some high-pitched calls that sounded like squeak-toys. Getting out of the car near some bee hives suddenly a band of Brown-headed Nuthatches flew into the nearby pine branches.
Tiny bundle of energy.
I had been hearing distant Eastern Towhees off and on all day, and finally one flew to a nearby tree, singing and fanning his tail (likely a territorial display). The woods were definitely getting more active as late afternoon approached.
Time to come out and play!
One the “Road 1” loop there was a flash of black and white, partially backlit, as a bird paralleled the car’s path down the road. It was a Red-headed Woodpecker! Soon another one was making small flights from tree to tree, barely staying in view. I was really excited. When I started birding in Massachusetts, New England was outside of the Red-headed Woodpeckers normally expected range, and I never saw one. When I went to grad school and worked in West Virginia, I never managed to see one. Even all the field trip with the Space Coast Birding and Wildlife Festival came up empty for me. So it was really thrilling to see them and to know where I can go and get some better looks in the future.
We came back out toward the main road and stopped to let a Northern Bobwhite and her chicks cross the road in front of us. She got confused, though and led them back where she had come out, the babies running for cover. I had to take the photos through the front windscreen, so these aren’t the best quality, but BABY BOBWHITES are cute! I know this photo is pretty atrocious, but look at those little babies! Something about the way they were following their mom reminded me of the beginning of The Partridge Family.
C’mon, get happy!
After that, there were quite a few Eastern Bluebirds that kept pacing ahead of the car, and a couple of Great Crested Flycatchers. We also passed various raptors coming out for their early evening patrols, including Red-shouldered Hawks and one Cooper’s Hawk.
It was a very long day – almost 12 hours of birding and I was really exhausted, but happy. Camille and I both got some life birds and got a good look at some habitat for future adventures.
There was one mystery for the day. Some time after seeing the Red-headed Woodpeckers, I heard a high, clear whistle that sounded exactly like a Carolina Chickadee song (“fee-bee bay-bay-bay-bay”). It called out several times, up in the taller pines, but I could not see it, and there were no good paths into the woods to try and track it. I know a lot of birds can sound alike, but this was very distinctive. The only “problem” is that a Carolina Chickadee at Three Lakes in June would be quite rare – even rarer than in Brevard County – but without a sighting, there’s no real way to “officially” say I got the bird. I choose to believe it was a chickadee – others, including well respected birders on the Brdbrain e-mail list say it probably wasn’t. I did get some encouragement from David Sibley (through a comment I left on a page about Titmouse songs on his web page). The bottom line is to get out there again and find that bird! Time will tell.
Here’s my species list for the entire “grand tour” for the day:
As the spring has progressed my birding goals this year have been changing focus. Some of this is no doubt from mentoring a new birder, but I think it really began back at the end of January when I was visiting Laura Erickson in Minnesota. While I try not to make any specific number a goal, most birders cannot deny the draw of seeing new birds or the same birds in new situations or locations. We mark this in different ways.
Some birders keep state, county and even city lists, for example. Laura’s adoption of Pip (the cutest birding dog around) provides Laura a fresh start with listing birds from an adorable puppy’s perspective. Some birders tweak their personal rules to make sure they count both sexes or tick off juveniles or fledglings. In any case, we are driven by the allure of new experiences and change. I’ve mentioned before how this sometimes conflicts with my urge to compare locations across time. If you’re often birding the same locale, you have less time to find new places, so there’s always a need for balance.
I’ve decided to shift the focus a little from location-based birding to species-based birding. Since I “ticked off” some boreal species this winter, I’m focusing more on finding species in the area I have not yet seen, and then finding places (or “hotspots” to use the eBird lingo) where they are likely to be found.
One group of birds I have have very little experience with are rails. Sure, I’ve seen several Soras, and I can count the Black Rail I heard two Januaries ago at the Space Coast Birding and Wildlife Festival. Coots and Gallinules are of the same family as rails, too. But I’d really like to see “prototypical” rails, such as King, Clapper or Virginia Rails.
I put the call out on the Brdbrains e-mail list that I was wanting to see rails, and that I would welcome any suggestions for location. I got a reply from someone saying that a friend of theirs was “regularly” seeing a King Rail and some chicks at the Viera Wetlands (that’s the Ritch Grissom Memorial Wetlands at Viera for the pedants).
In order to catch most rails, it’s best to go early or stay late, conventional wisdom says. How early?
Viera Wetlands just after sunrise, when the lighting is dramatic, but maybe not the best anything other than silhouettes.
There was a good scattering of Black-bellied Whistling Ducks around most of the property, and my new camera doesn’t do too shabby in low light – at least once the sun angle is right.
Black-bellied Whistling Duck hanging on tightly to his tree.
I waited near the area described in the Brdbrains e-mail, but it seemed to me it was the quietest area in the whole Wetlands. I indulged one impulse to play a King Rail call and listen for a response, but I heard nothing. I decided to walk roads around the inner part of the Wetlands as the sun crept higher.
At least one pair of cranes is raising chicks at the Wetlands this year. I’ve noticed far fewer crane chicks this year then the past two. I wonder if it has to do with how wet our winter and early spring were, here on the Space Coast. Many of the nesting sites I am familiar with were inundated well into spring, so I am guessing many nest sites were just inaccessible. It’s possible some crane couples are starting their broods late this year, now that the water levels have gone down.
Mother crane and her two kids (Dad was off to the right).
The rookery island was busy with the usual Cattle Egrets and Ibises, with Anhingas thrown into the mix. The birds were getting their mornings going and having breakfast. There were Common Gallinules along many marsh edges, and some Least Bitterns were awkwardly flying in and out of the reeds. Many other herons and egrets were stalking prey or bickering among themselves, too. Male Red-winged Blackbirds were already displaying and chasing females around, and the Boat-tailed Grackles were piping and clicking away. One Crested Caracara soared quickly overhead, too.
Little Blue Heron in transitional plumage.
It was clear I would not be seeing any rails, after spending a total of an hour or two at the Wetlands, I drove down to the Moccasin Island Tract to see what might be happening there.
Home on the range.
As I pulled into the parking area, a pair of American Crows was on the wooden fence, calling out loudly. They seemed a little perturbed at my arrival, so I parked on the south side of the lot. I wanted to walk the north corridor for about a half hour or so before heading back, which meant walking by the crows. They turned and used about a half dozen or so vocalizations in my general direction as I got closer. They flew off to the opposite corner of the lot, calling loudly. I called out “sorry guys!” as they flew off and went out of the parking area and started up the trail.
After I got several hundred feet up the trail, I could hear the crows calling behind me and some faint muffled thumps that sounded suspiciously like Saturn plastic door panels being whacked. I turned to see two crows attacking my car. In my binoculars I saw them attacking not just the mirrors and windows, but the windshield wipers, wheel covers, spoiler and tires. As I jogged closer, yelling they turned to vocalize at me (again, using several different calls). One even hopped on the roof and then slid down the back window, nails making screeching sounds all the way, several times. They defecated on the windshield and hood. I chased them off and one went off to the west and one circled by me and landed in the parking area a short distance away. To make my point, I ran after it. It flew off, slowly, just keeping ahead of me, calling out as I cursed at it. It finally flew off.
I stayed by the car for a few minutes as they met up on some posts up the northern trail and called out to each other. I eventually headed slowly down the southern trail instead, looking back a few times, but I think they left the car alone at that point.
Wanted for property damage misdemeanor.
Two cows somehow managed to get on the wrong side of the fence and were pacing back and forth trying to figure out how to get back. They’d turn to face me, which gave me a slightly anxious feeling. I don’t generally have a fear of cows, but these are large animals whose intelligence might just take a back seat under high stress.
1,000 pounds of docile probably still hurts.
In the end, they generally stayed out of the way, even stubbornly so (there was another cow and a calf pacing along with them on the “right” side of the fence, but any time I tried to open a gate to reunite them, the two cows on the “wrong” side of the fence would freak out and run). I had to give up on any altruistic notions, and returned my attention to the birds.
There were a few Cattle and Great Egrets among the grazing and lazing cattle, plus a few vultures. The Eastern Meadowlarks were the most visible and vocal of the birds I saw. Many were busy rooting beetles and grubs out of the ground or snagging grasshoppers. I think they’d eat just about anything small, flying, and crawling.
“Hmmm. Must be time for Second Breakfast.”A musical and colorful puffball.
The Bald Eagles’ nest was empty and I saw no evidence of Eagles anywhere. As I left the upper fields (those closest to the entrance) the birds became less numerous and the fields on either side of me were very silent. I decided to head back to the car and call it a day.
Between the Wetlands and the Moccasin Island Tract, here’s the list of species for the day:
Northern Mockingbird
Black-bellied Whistling Duck
Roseate Spoonbill (just outside the Wetlands)
Red-winged Blackbird
Boat-tailed Grackle
White Ibis
Turkey Vulture
Double-crested Cormorant
Red-shouldered Hawk
Limpkin
Great Blue Heron
Anhinga
Glossy Ibis
Northern Cardinal
Loggerhead Shrike
European Starling
Common Gallinule
Pied-billed Grebe
American Coot
Sandhill Crane
Great Egret
Crested Caracara
Fish Crow
Least Tern
Osprey
Carolina Wren (♫)
Least Bittern
Snowy Egret
Little Blue Heron
Tricolored Heron
Green Heron
Black-crowned Night Heron
American Crow
Eastern Meadowlark
Black Vulture
Summer is generally considered a “slow” time for birding in Florida, but there’s always something going on if you know where to look. Like my brief detour in Orange County, there are birds breeding and raising young here. There are still heron chicks on the nest at the Wetlands, and the rookeries are noisy and busy. It just takes a bit more patience.
I must apologize for the lateness of this blog post. I’ve been suffering from some sort of writer’s block and it’s caused me no end of headaches. Luckily, I had uploaded most of the photographs already, so I’ll use them as a scaffold to tell you about my and Camille’s birding adventures this past Saturday.
Our primary goals were to try to see the Fulvous Whistling Ducks reported at Brinson Park in Kissimmee and then to find Snail Kites around the lakes near St. Cloud.
Brinson Park is just at the north of Lake Tohopekaliga (or Toho, for the more tongue-tied of us) and overlooks the lake and some mudflats with a sidewalk that follows along most of its length. This is part of “The Florida Trail”, which runs from Big Cyprus Preserve and eventually to Pensacola.
Welcome to Brinson Park!
Brinson Park is a great place for wading birds. We saw White and Glossy Ibises, various herons and egrets, and even a Black-necked Stilt. But the dominant wading birds were the Roseate Spoonbills and the Limpkins. It seemed that a majority of the spoonbills were juveniles. In fact, it was hard not to see the place as a sort of cool hang-out spot for teen spoonbills away from adults.
“Hey, guys! Over here!”
Coming in for a landing.
I love how the bird on the right is standing.
As for the Limpkins, I have never seen so many together in my life. Most of them were flying and squabbling out over the water, but a few were closer in. Limpkins are adapted to feed on snails – particularly the large snails found in central Florida lakes. Their bills are actually slightly curved at the tip to allow for easier access into the snails’ shells. This gallery shows one of the limpkins going about it’s breakfast.
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I scanned the horizon for raptors and other soaring birds and was quickly rewarded with the first Snail Kite of the day! We weren’t expecting it at this location, but I got a good look at it in the binoculars as it circled overhead and then landed on a post out in the water.
Nearer the shore were several ducks that I could not initially identify. It took a bit of watching and field guide checking, but they were immature Muscovy ducks. Muscovys are a feral species, and most birds in central Florida have a varied plumage, belying their domestic heritage; however, the juveniles are surprisingly uniform in appearance.
This young bird is just starting to get the facial knobs that are distinctive for his species.
Along the vegetation below the sidewalk level there was a large brood of Muscovy chicks with their mother. It was clear that these ducklings are used to being fed, because they ran as fast as they could to where we were standing and watched us expectantly. I verbally apologized, telling them that people food (and bread in particular) was not good for them, and they needed to stay closer to Momma.
This Muscovy had twelve ducklings (they would not all fit in the field of view).
When their mother arrived just after them, they eventually settled down, but would occasionally glance up at us in case we changed our minds.
Baby Muscovy!
Meanwhile, along the road and sidewalk areas, both in the landscaping trees and the brushy vegetation at the edge of the lake, there were many fledgling and immature Boat-tailed Grackles creating a huge amount of noise. Alongside the adults feeding in the grass were three species of dove: Mourning, Eurasian Collared, and White-winged. One particularly handsome White-winged Dove let us get fairly close. The striking “eyeshadow” marking and red eye, along with that white racing stripe make for a gorgeous bird.
I wonder if Stevie Nicks is coming to Orlando this summer…
Back at the water’s edge, a family of Limpkins was also enjoying some breakfast. Some of the slightly older chicks were following an adult around and getting fed with the others hunkered uneasily in the reeds, but not out of sight.
More breakfast!
We walked around the lake shore and even crossed the road to see if the Fulvous Whistling Ducks were there, but we only got good looks at some groups of Black-bellied Whistling Ducks, a few Mottled Ducks, and more Limpkins and herons. There were some Purple Martins on the electrical wires, and several Marsh Rabbits eating and playing by the lake shore.
Marsh Rabbits have very short ears, compared to cottontails.
We really hung around a while hoping for those ducks, and we had a couple of very indeterminate and distant sighting of ducks that might have been what we were looking for, but the combination of distance and lighting made it impossible to tell. We headed over to St. Cloud and East Lake Tohopekaliga to get more Snail Kite views and see what else was afoot (or a-wing, I suppose?).
Lakefront Park is north of St. Cloud on the southern shore of East Lake Tohopekaliga. It was a beautiful morning, but surprisingly uncrowded for a Saturday. There were more Limpkins in the marsh grasses, and other wading and wetland birds scattered throughout. Camille even saw an American Bittern scoot across the park into some vegetation.
It was a lovely day on East Lake Toho.
Right across from the parking area were about 8 or 9 Sandhill Cranes. Four of them were vocal and conspicuous, their shrill bugle-like calls all but drowning out any other sounds.
Not the worst barbershop quartet I’ve heard.
Meanwhile, a larger, even more imposing crane watched those four from a distance away. I don’t know if the others were juveniles or unattached males vying for a mate, but this crane was having none of their nonsense and eventually after a very loud call, sent them flying away.
Who’s the boss?
While this was going on a family of Loggerhead Shrikes was feeding on insects on the ground, and then flying up in to the trees right by our heads. One young bird was keen on showing off its skills and got an earful from his parents as it strutted its stuff.
Young shrike.
As we got toward the overlook pavilion, a Snail Kite flew past, close to shore, its unmistakable white rump and orange bill visible even without optics.
Nearby, Boat-tailed Grackles were making territorial displays and perhaps still vying for mates. One particular male seemed to get challenged multiple times, but each time the competition skulked away after a particularly loud round of chirps, bill rattles and squawks.
We waited for more Snail Kites and even searched around for some Fulvous Whistling Ducks, but to no avail. A trio of white feral Domestic Ducks approached us hoping for a handout, and there were more Limpkins nearby. We went back to Camille’s vehicle to decide on our next destination. While we discussed our plans, two more Snail Kites circled in from the west, along the shoreline before flying back out over the lake. We decided to visit Runnymeade Conservation area, just to the southeast.
Runnymeade is primarily a Live Oak wood with a bit of scrub along its edges. This sort of arrangement is sometimes called a monotypic community. Most of the trees were reasonably mature, but the woods are isolated from a larger community by residential development and Runnymeade Lake.
Natural arches.
I could hear (and saw a few) Northern Cardinals as well as Tufted Titmouses. We were visited, briefly, by a band of Downy Woodpeckers, too. Otherwise, it was quiet through most of the woods. In the scrub area we tracked a White-eyed Vireo that stayed very well hidden, despite it being only twenty or so feet away (based on the sound). We only ever caught the briefest glimpse of it between trees.
We decided to end the morning (by now early afternoon) back at East Lake Tohopekaliga, at Chisholm Park. This area is east of Lakefront Park and consists mainly of some picnic pavilions and a boat ramp. Just as the other lake area, Limpkins were conspicuous and active. Each sign by the boat ramp had a Limpkin atop it, calling loudly and refusing to fly away even when noisy boats came up tie up, or talkative birders sidled in for better photographs.
Normally shy during the winter and early spring, these Limpkins were bold and brash.
We hung around for a bit, when we glanced up at some soaring birds. At first I thought they were all vultures, but one bird was being harassed by a Red-winged Blackbird.
If you look closely, you can see the Red-winged Blackbird to the right of the kite’s wing.Merciless dive-bombing.
It was another Snail Kite. There were two, actually. One made its way down to a post beyond the reeds, while this one flew higher and higher in an attempt to shake off the blackbird. There’s a good chance these were the same ones we saw earlier at Lakefront Park, but there’s no way to be certain.
We watched the kites for a bit and then decided it was time for lunch and to head back to Brevard County. We may not have got our Fulvous Whistling Duck this trip, but the Snail Kites were a nice treat (and a first of year for me, a lifer for Camille).
My complete list (including the parking lot before we left in the morning), and part of the ride back, through Osceola Conty, roughly in order of first identification:
Common Nighthawk
Chuck-will’s-widow (♫)
Common Grackle
White Ibis
Bald Eagle
Crested Caracara
Black Vulture
Great Egret
Cattle Egret
Boat-tailed Grackle
Mourning Dove
Red-winged Blackbird
Roseate Spoonbill
Muscovy
Limpkin
Black-necked Stilt
Common Gallinule
White-winged Dove
Eurasian Collared Dove
Snail Kite
Northern Mockingbird
Sandhill Crane
Great Blue Heron
Black-bellied Duck
Mottled Duck
Mallard
Snowy Egret
Purple Martin
Little Blue Heron
Loggerhead Shrike
White-eyed Vireo
Downy Woodpecker
Northern Cardinal
Northern Parula (♫)
Tufted Titmouse
Red-shouldered Hawk
Turkey Vulture
Eastern Kingbird
Wild Turkey
This was the first real outing with my new camera. My poor Kodak Z990 was having increased motor problems and would often not write images to the SD card, and would sometimes refuse to respond to any commands or button pushes. It’s been on a steady decline since my trip to Minnesota, and I had to replace it.
My new camera is a FujiFilm FinePix S9900W. It’s got a slightly longer reach in the max zoom, and I’ve increased from 12 megapixels to 16. I still have to get used to the settings and menus, but already I am really loving this new camera.
With the uneven migration season nearing its end, I had an additional impetus to get myself back to the Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge (MINWR) when it was reported that a Curlew Sandpiper was seen there last week. I was hoping it would hang around another day or so, and on Sunday I made my way over the causeway and into MINWR. On the way in I saw some small birds mobbing a Red-tailed Hawk on a utility pole, and some Northern Mockingbirds chasing a Fish Crow. Exciting times!
Since many of the reports stated early morning viewing was very difficult, I decided to try both the Peacocks Pocket drive (which I had not done before) and then Blackpoint before circling back to Pumphouse Road.
Peacocks Pocket is a small bay-like feature of the Indian River Lagoon, near where it joins with Banana Creek (not the Banana River Lagoon). It has some popularity as a fishing spot, and there were several groups out fishing there. Here’s a map:
Due to the sun angle, I started down the eastern end of Peacocks Pocket and looped to the west. The sections of road in and out of Peacocks Pocket are relatively wide. If you needed to pull a bit to the side to let another vehicle pass, it’s pretty easy. The rest of the road is actually pretty narrow with very few turnouts, especially compared to Blackpoint, as an example. Luckily, I was early enough that I encountered few vehicles, and those I did see, I had plenty of time to find either a turnout or ride a slightly wider berm to get by.
“But what has it got in its pocketses, eh?”
I had heard from Camille that there were nesting Black-necked Stilts along this drive, and I did see stiilts along most of its length, but they did not appear to be nesting. I don’t know the incubation period for stilts, but it was wholly possible they had finished nesting and were dispersed. If that was the case, I expected to see chicks, but at first I just saw adults.
Sometimes bird names are completely pragmatic.
There was the usual assemblage of herons and egrets, many of them just getting into their morning routines. One Great Blue Heron was standing, facing the sun, in an odd pose I have only seen one other time (and never quite this extreme). I know I haven’t seen photos of it before in my general searches and browsing.
No, this Great Blue Heron wasn’t trying to sell watches. Many birds need to wake up their metabolism when they get up in the morning. You often see vultures spread with their backs to the sun. This must work for the heron, though it does look a bit funny, if we anthropomorphize.
I noticed quite a few small sandpipers in the mud and shallow water. I had heard a Killdeer or two nearby, so when I first focused on some of the browner birds, I thought I was looking at a few more; however, a closer look showed only a single breast-band and much smaller bill. These were Semipalmated Plovers, and I was quite happy to see these. I have limited shorebird identification prowess, and this is the first certain identification I have of this species (that’s a long-winded way of saying it was a lifer!). Curiously, upon closer inspection of the other small birds, I saw the yellow legs of Least Sandpipers, but then the black legs and stoutish bills of Semipalmated Sandpipers! Lifer number two (I never did resolve if the slightly larger “peep” from the Orlando Wetlands earlier in the year was a Semipalmated or a Western Sandpiper). I watched the birds running about for food and chasing each other around. They let out a collective series of avian epithets when an adult Bald Eagle flew by and landed in some taller vegetation.
Aside from more egrets and stilts, the blackbirds were vigorously defending their terrtories and nests for each other and the occasional large bird (I saw both Ospreys and vultures being harrased out of the area). Both the Boat-tailed Grackles and the Red-winged Blackbirds were busy keeping threats away and singing, some quite close to the car.
Male Red-winged Blackbird.
A pair of Loggerhead Shrikes really ruffled the feathers of an Osprey as they chased it so hard it almost dropped into the water! I saw it land on a small tree farther up the trail, where is stayed until I passed it several minutes later.
An aggravated Osprey after almost being forced into the water by a pair of hostile shrikes.
Farther up the road I heard some very loud Black-necked Stilt calls, and seeing 2 adults on the road in front of me stopped and slowly got out to take a photo. Right as I closed the car door, the birds went crazy, calling loudly and one of them doing a sort of wounded-flutter just above the road, legs dangling. I realized that there must be either a nest of chicks nearby, given the faux display (similar to what a Killdeer might do on the ground, feigning injury to draw away a predator).
“Keep up, kids!”
There were four stilt chicks, walking the road. The parents got really worked up and after taking a few photos, I backed off and returned to car, apologizing and letting them be on their way. It’s very possible that many of the “dispersed” stilts I saw earlier had chicks nearby, but due to their coloring, size, and distance, I didn’t notice them.
Cuteness overload!
Bird activity further long the road was sparse, and as I made my way toward the other end of the road, I started to encounter more vehicles coming the other way, most of them with fishing gear visible. At this point the road widened and I came back out of the main road, just west of Blackpoint.
Blackpoint Wildlife Drive was quite devoid of birds, as it typical for this time of year. Except for the odd, small groupings of American Coots and Common Gallinules, there was nothing until I happened upon this Reddish Egret, dancing around to get its meal. This is the same spot I’ve seen a Reddish Egret during the winter, but I have no way of knowing if this is the same bird or not.
“Ho! Ho! and up she rises. Ho! Ho! and up she rises. Ho! Ho! and up she rises, Early in the morning!”
A bit further along the drive were a scattering of sandpipers and plovers, mainly Willets and Killdeer, with perhaps some other peeps mixed in, but nothing really close by to get a good look at, until this Glossy Ibis.
“Yes?? Can I help you?”
By this point it had reached late enough in the morning for the lighting to improve along Pumphouse Road and the potential for the Curlew Sandpiper, and whatever else might be close enough to grab with my binoculars.
The comments from the Brdbrain e-mail list indicated that views of the bird in question were just over a quarter of a mile down the road. As I stepped over the chain barrier onto the road I noticed a couple of birders ahead of me, both with scopes. I was clinging to a tenuous hope that maybe one of them would let me have a glance in their scope if they came across anything interesting.
Loggerhead Shrike watching me as I entered the Pumphouse Road Loop.
The first two men were decidedly cool and almost clinical, so I didn’t feel very comfortable asking for a look in their optics. They scanned a flock of mostly Semipalmated Sandpipers, looking for the Curlew Sandpiper to no avail. Another man walked in and began setting up his scope. I think I recognized him from the Space Coast Birding and Wildlife Festival; he ran the Diceandra Scrub Sanctuary trip, I believe. He was quite friendly, and I thought he might be more friendly regarding the use of his optics.
Let me pause here for a short paragraph. It’s not that I feel entitled to others’ optics, it’s just that even a somewhat decent spotting scope is seriously out of my budget, and is likely to be for some time. Unfortunately, for any good looks at shorebirds or if something interesting is happening across a lake, it’s really tough with 8 power binoculars. It’s even tough with 10 power, to be honest. So the best hope that we scopeless folks have is to depend on the kindness of strangers (or any friends that are lucky enough to have procured a scope!).
All three men generally agreed that the mudflats and shallow water we were looking over had dried considerably since they’d last been there a couple of days before, and that the birds were therefore farther out and harder to discern.
I walked further up the road, scanning the two main groups of shorebirds just in case I caught a hint of reddish head and breast that might indicate the Curlew Sandpiper’s presence. Meanwhile, I got some good binocular looks at some of the smaller plovers and sandpipers that were venturing closer to the road.
Least Sandpiper
Semipalmated Plover
Semipalmated Sandpiper
Wilson’s Plover
There were also some Willets, Greater Yellowlegs, quite a few Dunlins, Killdeers and even a single Piping Plover in the area. I walked back to where the men had been scanning with their scopes, but they had all departed while a few more people with scopes were coming in. I milled around and talked a bit with them about the Curlew Sandpiper and what other birds were present. I asked one couple if they saw anything of interest, would it be ok to have a look in their scopes. They said yes, they’d be happy to share, so I watched the nearer birds for a while. They finally had the scopes on some birds of interest (no Curlew Sandpiper, though) and I had a look at some American Avocets, more Reddish Egrets, a Black-bellied Plover and, a first for me, a Stilt Sandpiper.
By then it was getting hot and it was past lunchtime, so I headed out. On the way, I passed some more egrets.
Snowy Egret
Reddish Egret
Great Egret
I took brief look overhead on my way the car and saw a mix of vultures, Wood Storks, and American White Pelicans soaring on an early afternoon thermal. The pelicans had brown primary feathers, so I believe they were juveniles. With that, it was time to head home.
Here is a list of the 53 species I identified, roughly in the order in which I saw them:
Double-crested Cormorant
Northern Mockingbird
Fish Crow
Red-tailed Hawk
Red-winged Blackbird
Snowy Egret
Black Skimmer
Black Vulture
Bald Eagle
Great Egret
White Ibis
Mourning Dove
Roseate Spoonbill
Killdeer
Least Sandpiper
Black-necked Stilt
Glossy Ibis
Tricolored Heron
Great Blue Heron
Semipalmated Plover
Caspian Tern
Osprey
Laughing Gull
Ring-billed Gull
Little Blue Heron
Greater Scaup
Boat-tailed Grackle
Loggerhead Shrike
Mottled Duck
Turkey Vulture
Anhinga
Least Tern
Reddish Egret
Green Heron
Red-bellied Woodpecker
American Coot
Common Gallinule
Northern Flicker
Willet
Semipalmated Sandpiper
Black-bellied Plover
Dunlin
Wilson’s Plover
Stilt Sandpiper
Piping Plover
Sanderling
American Avocet
Greater Yellowlegs
Red-shouldered Hawk
Common Yellowthroat
Wood Stork
American White Pelican
Cattle Egret
It turned out to be a pretty good day, even without a Curlew Sandpiper. It turns out that no one saw it at all that day or since. Such is the way with migrants. I can’t complain, though. I saw a good mix of beautiful birds, talked with some nice people, and enjoyed a great morning out.
I’m working on a blog update, but it’s been slower going than I expected. In the meantime, enjoy this teaser photo of some really cute Black-necked Stilt chicks! Like ducks, geese and cranes (among others), stilt chicks are precocial. They hatched with down, open eyes, and could leave the nest within a couple of days to forage with their parents (who they will rely on for protection and learning through the summer). In fact, stilt chicks have been observed swimming within hours of hatching!
Here’s a (slightly wavery) video of the Pileated Woodpecker chicks getting their breakfast from their dad. These chicks’ punk-rock mohawks will grow into the handsome crests as they get out of the nest and mature this spring.
It’s always an interesting balancing-act for me to decide where to go birding. I like to vary my experiences, but the (very) amateur scientist in me likes to see the changes in the same location over time and under varied circumstances. In the end, I wind up visiting the same places many times each year, sprinkled with the odd foray into somewhere new (or at least less visited by me). As this weekend approached, the decision seemed to come down to either Lori Wilson Park or Turkey Creek Sanctuary. Camille and I actually talked about it a bit, wondering if either one might prove more fruitful than the other. It remained up in the air until late Saturday when I decided that Lori Wilson Park would be a good place to start. If things were too quiet there, there would still be time enough try something else. At that time I was thinking Turkey Creek again.
I met up with Camille and it turns out that, yes, Lori Wilson Park was very quiet. Phyllis Mansfield was there, talking with 2 men who were staking out the small water feature (optimistically referred to as “the pond”) with it’s dripping hose. This is actually a good bird attractant, but this time there were only some Mourning Doves and House Sparrows in the vicinity.
Lovey-dovey Mourning Dove walks in for a closer look at us.
On the boardwalk loop, the park was dominated by white butterflies. There were dozens of them all over. I caught a couple of very brief glimpses of two Ovenbirds, and we heard and saw several Common Yellowthroats. Of course the Northern Cardinals were ever-present, and as we got back to the entrance/exit a bit later, we did see some Common Grackles, a single American Redstart, and a Gray Catbird near the pond.
Proving, again that birds are functionally illiterate, this Gray Catbird is still hanging around Florida.
On the way out we flushed a couple of Palm Warblers and watched some Northern Mockingbirds go about their day. There were some Brown Pelicans flying overhead as we decided what to do next. With Lori Wilson Park so quiet, the prospects for Turkey Creek Sanctuary seemed bleak. I thought maybe trying something new might spruce the morning up a bit and we could head to the Helen and Allan Cruickshank Sanctuary. As a scrub preserve there was bound to be some Eastern Towhees (which for Camille would be a life bird) and who knows what else. At least the Florida Scrub Jays would be a pretty sure bet.
Here’s the list of birds seen and heard at Lori Wilson Park, including the parking area:
Northern Mockingbird
House Sparrow
Common Grackle
European Starling
Mourning Dove
Fish Crow
Northern Cardinal
Blue Jay
Ovenbird
Common Yellowthroat
Brown Pelican
American Redstart
Gray Catbird
Palm Warbler
We arrived at Cruickshank about 20 minutes later and walked to the trailhead. The southern part of the sanctuary had been burned fairly recently, but it was growing in nicely. We quickly had our first birds of the day: some very inquisitive Florida Scrub Jays! I know in the past that visitors often would (sometimes at the encouragement of the sanctuary’s caretakers) feed the jays peanuts. They would land on people and even eat out of their hands. This is strongly discouraged now, but as these birds still seem want to land on people, I have to wonder if people aren’t still feeding them on the sly. I know that as recently as a couple of years ago the caretakers were still feeding them by hand. While it makes for great public relations (and fun photos!), the long term impact of this on the jays’ behavior isn’t clear.
This isn’t what is generally meant by a “feathered headdress,” but you have to admit it’s pretty striking!At least it’s not a Blue Jay (go Red Sox!)
When not being fed peanuts (or stealing snacks from visitors’ pockets), these jays are omnivorous, feeding on berries, nuts (like acorns) and insects. I’ve seen them run down ants and catch bees in mid-air. After it became apparent we had nothing to offer them, the jays took to the ground, grabbing bugs and seeds in the dirt.
Like most of the Florida Scrub Jays in the sanctuary, this bird has a band for identification and tracking.
There were several fledglings calling and making short flights through the scrub. I’ve not seen scrub jay fledglings before and it was fun watching them try to navigate their world while family members looked on. These youngsters stayed very low in the vegetation and made only tentative attempts at crossing larger, open spaces.
A young Florida Scrub Jay taking a break during flight training. In a few weeks it’ll be winging its way like a pro.
As we progressed further in the sanctuary, we could hear Eastern Towhees calling to each other in the dense scrub. As we walked the 1-mile hiking trail I was hopeful we’d see some and add the bird to Camille’s steadily growing life list. This is when we had our first surprise of the morning. A Northern Bobwhite was out in the sunshine by the edge of the wider dirt path, singing while in his best breeding plumage. We heard a few of them throughout the sanctuary, but only this one stayed out long enough to get a good look at. This was a life bird for Camille, and one that I had not anticipated.
This Northern Bobwhite was loudly and proudly calling his name out at the edge of the trail. We didn’t get much closer than this, though, before he scurried into the brush.
As we made our way along the trail, we finally did track down a singing male Eastern Towhee, while many others called nearby. Some swallows overfly us, too and I was confused because at first I thought they late-lingering Tree Swallows. In the end, I think they were Bank Swallows but I never quite got a good enough look at their throats to be sure. There were a few Barn Swallows as well (another Camille life bird), and at least one Purple Martin. One lone Sandhill Crane also flew overhead at one point, and there were several Anhingas soaring nearby.
As we approached some large, dead, oak trees, some very raucous calls started coming from one. A Pileated Woodpecker had landed next to a large, oval hole. Then, we had our second surprise of the day!
Papa woodpecker feeding his two babies. There was a female nearby as well. These two stretched their necks out so far I don’t know how they didn’t fall out!
In addition to the Pileated Woodpeckers, two other species of woodpecker were present. Red-bellied Woodpeckers are fairly ubiquitous, but this one was foraging more like a chickadee. Just before the next photo was taken, it was swinging upside down under that tangle of seed pods.
Red-bellied Woodpeckers tend to be more versatile than other woodpecker species, even perching on wires on occasion.
We also had one of an apparent pair of Northern Flickers stop in a nearby tree. We could hear them clear across the sanctuary for a while before one finally came close enough to get a decent binocular view of. Flickers were always very common in my back (and front) yard as a child, and were a staple find in my early biding years. They are less common around my usual birding spots now, so it’s always a pleasure to hear or see them.
After that, we headed toward the parking area, stopping to watch the Scrub Jay fledglings again and have some more birds land on our heads. Florida Scrub Jays are scrappy little birds, and I am glad we’ve set aside some sanctuaries for them. My hope is that we come up with a better development and land-use strategy in central Florida to manage our scrub habitats and let the population roam and expand.
Unofficial Florida State Bird.
The total species list for the Cruickshank Sanctuary:
Florida Scrub Jay
Eastern Towhee
Northern Bobwhite
Blue Jay
Chimney Swift
Red-bellied Woodpecker
European Starling
Pileated Woodpecker
Purple Martin
Anhinga
Fish Crow
Sandhill Crane
White Ibis
Barn Swallow
Great Egret
Wood Duck
Northern Flicker (FOY)
Common Yellowthroat
Roseate Spoonbill
It turned out to be a pretty good choice, going to the Cruickshank Sanctuary. There are other less explored parks in the area I’m keen to visit. The normal migration season is beginning to wind down now. There will still be some birds moving through the rest of the month, but then the Space Coast and nearby areas will get into its usual summer regime. I’ve got some hopeful adventures planned for the summer. Let’s see how they pan out.
Lonely Birder 