I spent some time at the beach with my wife and our friends on Sunday afternoon. I saw these birds on the beach, but then we had to go due to an approaching storm.
That’s a “western” Willet and a Ruddy Turnstone (top to bottom). We never really got rained on, but it looked menacing enough to call it an afternoon.
When word came over the FLORIDABIRDS-L mailing list that a Canada Warbler was seen in Turkey Creek Sanctuary, it was clear that the first migrants have arrived in the area. When a rare bird alert goes out like that, it’s exciting enough, but to be at the local park I am most familiar with was even better.
I headed to the Sanctuary on Sunday with modest goals. I wasn’t expecting to see a Canada Warbler, but I figured some increased activity might bode well for the historically heavier migration month of October. As followers of this blog might remember, the past couple of years have been really bad as far as birding during migration.
Early on in the walk I saw what I thought were owl pellets (I even photographed them) but upon closer inspection I think they were some sort of scat (if you don’t know what that means, go ask your parents).
I ended up having a modest morning of it, all told. The most exciting bird encounters were a Wood Thrush (FOY) which I initially mistook for a Brown Thrasher and several warbler species. While none of the warblers were as rare as a Canada Warbler, they were a good indication that the migration is under way.
The most numerous warblers were by far the American Redstarts. There was a mix of what seemed to be immature and mature males. It’s possible some were females, but all had some amount of black or duskiness about them.
Ready for launch! American Redstarts are hyperactive, even for warblers.
While there have been Blue-grey Gnatcatchers in the Sanctuary all year, there was a definite increase in numbers and activity.
Blue-grey Gnatcatcher contemplating its next move.
At the end of the Floodplain Trail I got a very brief glimpse of a Worm-eating Warbler, then watched as three species of woodpecker bickered and chased each other around some trees. There was a Pileated Woodpecker really knocking things around and it eventually ousted a pair of Downy Woodpeckers and at least one Red-bellied Woodpecker. I assumed it was a youngster, it was so clumsy and spastic.
I think this Pileated Woodpecker sort of looks like Kramer from Seinfeld.
I ran into two area birders, both active on FLORIDABIRDS-L, and they were both hoping to catch a Canada Warbler. Mark Eden was on his way out and had seen a lot of activity by the Canoe Deck (activity which had sadly abated by the time I got there) and Jim Armstrong, whom I walked with for a time before we went our separate ways. Normally I tend to shy away from sharing my experiences while birding, even when perhaps I shouldn’t (hence my blog title). But this weekend it seemed natural to want to collaborate, and I hope Mark and Jim got something out of our mutual encounters as well.
The species list for the morning:
Since yesterday I’ve seen more cautiously encouraging reports out of Turkey Creek Sanctuary, so here’s to hoping for a good Fall Migration.
Lots of silver linings this morning.
It was a soggy start to the day today at Pine Island Conservation Area. To echo the somber mood, the birds that were visible looked suitably forlorn in the damp.
Wet Turkey Vulture.
Believe it or not, I stayed in the car for quite a while until the conditions improved. The rain did very slowly taper off.
There were Barn Swallows zipping around, and I could hear Killdeers somewhere across the pond (though I didn’t see any until much later).
I managed to flush a pair of Bald Eagles, in adult plumage, from a nearby tree. In the mist I thought they were Black Vultures and didn’t have my camera ready. They flew across to the opposite side of the pond, where a nest was also visble.
Eagle’s nest through the drizzle.
Bald Eagle pair in the distance through the rain (really working at my camera’s limit here).
I could hear Common Gallinules in the marsh areas, but they stayed mostly out of sight. I did see one Loggerhead Shrike and various herons. Most of them seemed skittish, though one Great Blue Heron stuck around long enough for a photo-op.
Great Wet Heron.
I did feel bad for the vultures. With the rain and lack of sunshine, there were no thermals for them to take advantage of, so they just sat in the trees, hunched like they were stuck in the rain waiting for the bus or a cab.
Poor things looked so miserable.
As I said, eventually the rain began to let up, and with it my birding (and other) fortunes. Along the path running to the west of the pond I heard a “twit twit twit” call and came across my first Northern Waterthrush!
The irony of finding a waterthrush on such a soggy day was not lost on me.
While I was watching that little one, I was paid an unexpected visit from a creature that was either really overly friendly or horribly near-sighted.
Friendly neighborhood Nine-banded Armadillo.
I’ve had close encounters with armadillos while hiking and birding before, but I’ve never had one come up like this. It even sniffed by boot before scurrying off. I don’t think it was ill, just hungry and preoccupied (and nearly blind).
Quite a few butterflys were also around, despite the rain and drizzle. This Mangrove Buckeye was one of several.
The spots on the wings are designed to ward of predators. If you were looking to make a meal, it looks like the butterfly has huge eyes on its wings, watching your every move. Better to go find a less alert dinner!
I usually see White Peacock Butterflys too. Today they were either trying to mate or really chasing each other around for territory (or both). Note the lower left wing is missing a piece on this individual.
This species also has eye spots, though they are less obvious than on the buckeye species.
As a child who spent just about any available non-school hours outside catching frogs, snakes and anything else, I am quite familiar with garter snakes, but until today, I’ve never seen a BLUE one.
Bluestripe Garter snakes are normall found in northwestern Florida. I must admit it was a bit of shock seeing an otherwise familiar animal with such bright blue.
Close-up of the head. What a cutie!
[EDIT: Dr. Kenneth Krysko of the Florida Museum of Natural History and the University of Florida told me via e-mail that blue striped garter snakes are sighted all over the state. He also said, “Because of this, many of us suspect that this is another example of a named subspecies based on arbitrary color pattern.”]
As I began heading back toward the parking area, the sun started to break through the gloom. The first birds to perk up were the vultures. They used their broad wings as solar heaters to warm up and prepare to take advantage of the day’s first thermals.
♫ Here comes the sun! ♪
I missed what could have been a pretty epic photograph because I was cleaning water off my camera lens. On one tree limb was a Downy Woodpecker, a Red-bellied Woodpecker and a Northern Flicker. They dispersed before I could get the camera set.
As I got closer to the car, I noticed a sparrow running through the grasses and undergrowth along the wide path and then in the parking area itself. Strangely, a mockingbird seemed to be shadowing its steps from atop the wooden railing around the parking area. It took some careful stalking, but I managed to flush it into a sapling long enough for some photos. I had to consult my Peterson field guide, and what do you know? It was a Lark Sparrow! Not impossible or unprecidented, but not common in eastern Florida, even in migration.
Hello, what have were here? Welcome to Florida!
It’s continued to rain today, but I ended up not minding the touch of grey. I saw a life-lister, a blue snake and had a personal greeting from an armadillo.
The species list for the day, including Pine Island Road (in and out bound):
I wonder, who’ll stop the rain?
I live fairly close to several parks, and my regular readers know I frequent Turkey Creek Sanctuary, and the descriptions and photographs of my trips there make up the better part of my blog. I do try to find a balance of exploring other areas nearby and keeping track of what’s going on at Turkey Creek Sanctuary throughout the year. If I were a mere “lister” birder, I would more likely travel farther across the region to snag birds for my lists. As it is, I find repeat observations and comparisons are vital to understanding birds and their place in the environment.
This past weekend I returned to the sanctuary to do such a check. Summers are usually quiet times for finding birds in many of the area parks. The rush of springtime homemaking and breeding has settled down and the birds are trying to keep cool even by 8 or 9 in the morning. With not much going on with bird life in the park, I thought it might be good to mix in a few photographs of some of the things I blog about at Turkey Creek.
As I walked toward the park the entrance in the library parking lot, I heard some soft, high-pitched call notes in the trees, and caught some glimpses of Northern Parulas foraging quietly together. One of the birds caught my eye. It’s yellow “spectacles” gave it away as a Yellow-throated Vireo. This vireo species’ plumage is very similar to the Northern Parula in many other respects (particularly with worn feathers and in the fall), but the spectacles are diagnostic.
Now that we are well into summer, quite a lot of American Beautyberry plants are ripening. This plant is ubiquitous, and birds love to eat them.
Berry beautiful…
The Sanctuary has been quiet, even for summer, this year and this day was no exception. There were a few Northern Cardinals calling from the brush and one or two singing in the distance, but the usual cacophony of alarm notes and whistling I am used to hearing was again absent. I approached the Harris radio tower which sometimes has Brown Thrashers or Eastern Phoebes hanging out nearby. No such luck this time, but let’s have a look at the tower.
The tower is held up by 3 pairs sets of guy-wires, spaced 120 degrees apart.
This 129 meter (400 foot) tower is owned by Harris Corporation, and I think it’s used for communications testing, rather than broadcasting. You can see from this photograph that the structure has supports fairly close together. I’ve been told by several people that years ago vultures and various raptors would roost on the tower, sometimes causing quite a smelly mess. To deter the birds from roosting, additional supports were added to the tower, making it near impossible for larger birds to make use of it.
I am amazed that such a tall structure (and others like it) are supported by wires, anchored into the ground. This simple method works even in hurricane-force winds.
The guy-wires holding up the tower are anchored in place with the help of these 1+ inch diameter bolts. The smaller wire you see is a grounding line for lightning strikes.
We have had a lot of rain the past week or so, and that was reflected in the elevated canal and creek water levels. I walked to the weir, where the Melbourne-Tilman Canal empties into Turkey Creek. There were only a few bird species present by the weir. Mourning Doves were the most abundant, and I flushed quite a few as I walked along the canal. In suburban settings, where these birds are commonly perched on utility wires, they are fairly conspicuous. Among the grass by the side of the canal they were almost invisibly until my footfalls scared them out.
Mourning Doves.
There were a few Green Herons, a single Tri-colored Heron and one American Coot by the flotation barrier leading to the weir. I saw a few Common Ground Doves and Eurasian Collared Doves as well.
The weir itself is part of a drainage and flood-control system, using Turkey Creek as an outlet to keep the canal water levels down, especially after heavy rainfall events.
Flood control for the canal system.
Into the creek.
Two of the area streams, south of the Eau Gallie River, are named for birds. Crane Creek empties into the Indian River Lagoon near Melbourne’s downtown, while Turkey Creek flows into the lagoon in Palm Bay (and is the main feature of the Turkey Creek Sanctuary, of course). I don’t know the historical reasons for the names, but for the first time I documented Wild Turkeys at Turkey Creek. Technically, they were running alongside the Melbourne-Tillman Canal, but based on the direction they were traveling, they had to have been along the creek’s side to get where I photographed them. I found it slightly ironic that I spied them running alongside the residential neighborhood that abuts the sanctuary.
Residential Turkeys.
The turkeys made their way out of sight, and I made my way back into the sanctuary. Upon entering the woods, there is what I’ve been calling an “emergency” boat ramp. Normally there is a heavy chain across the entrance to the path that leads to the ramp, but I noticed that it was missing (though the sign clearly indicated this is not for pubic access).
This also happens to be the area I saw the Bicknell’s Thrush this year.
I don’t know if it’s really for emergencies or not, and I freely admit I pass the signs and chain regularly to have a look at the creek from the ramp and it’s adjacent platform. In fact, I took a photograph of Flat Stanley there earlier in the summer.
You can see the platform and posts in the background and to the left of Flat Stanley, when the water level was lower.
After all the rain we’ve had, the creek level was several feet higher than my last visit, almost completely submerging the wooden posts for the platform next to the ramp.
Swamped.
I worked my way to the boardwalk and, apart from a couple of distantly circling vultures and some Carolina Wren calls, I didn’t have much luck with finding birds. There were plenty of dragonflies. This one, like many others this late in the summer, have very worn-out wings and rest as often as they are flying.
Howdy, Ms. Dragonfly!
This Mole Skink was sunning itself on the boardwalk. If you look closely you can see water beaded up on its skin. Despite the shiny appearance, skinks are not slimy or wet. Their scales are exceptionally smooth and close-fitting. The camera had a bit of trouble picking up the brilliant blues and overall iridescence of this animal.
See the shiny skink sunning in the sanctuary.
Further up the boardwalk and the Sand Pine Trail, I detoured onto the Flood Plain Trail. I was expecting the Boy Scout’s boardwalk to be at least partially under water, but it was not – a testament to both the flood control efforts at the weir and the capacity for the ground near the creek to hold water. The ground was covered in standing water, but still several inches below the decking.
Apart from a few Yellow-throated Warblers a the entrance end of the Sand Pine Trail, that’s about it for the day.
The species list, including the parking lot:
The nearly last quarter moon shone brightly enough, even in daylight, to provide a nice parting shot.
Blue Moon, you left me birding alone…
Weather and sleeplessness prevented me from birding this weekend, but I’d like to use this opportunity to discuss a bit of controversy in the birding world.
A Proper Debate
From time to time in the “birdosphere” of field guides, magazine articles, journals and blogs, the debate will rise again on how to name birds in print and digital displays.
As in computer scripting and coding, where there’s a long and ongoing conflict between “camelCase” and using an underscore between words, there’s likely never to be a reconciliation.
On the one hand, you have the Capitalization Camp, which feels it is necessary to differentiate the local, common names of a species from more mundane and generic descriptions. On the other hand, is the Proper Noun Camp, which feels capitalization is reserved for proper nouns such as specific things or individuals, like if you had a parakeet named “Minuet”. We’ll use our trusty and handsome avian friend, Cyanocitta cristata as an example.
Feeling blue?
Is this a blue jay or a Blue Jay? The Capitalization Camp says this is a Blue Jay, specifically referring to this species of jay. A mere “blue jay,” the rationalization goes, could be Cyanocitta cristata, Aphelocoma coerulescens or any other jay that is colored blue.
Also blue and a jay.
On the other hand, the Proper Noun Camp says that the specific, individual bird is not named and there are more than one “blue jays” or “Florida scrub jays” in the world, and to capitalize the name is improper. The Capitalization Camp would also say the above bird is better referred to as a Florida Scrub Jay, to differentiate it from its western cousin, the “Western Scrub Jay” (which the Proper Noun Camp would no doubt want to call the “western scrub jay”).
If you’ve read my blog, you know I subscribe to the “Capitalization Camp,” as I see the non-scientific names of the bird species as a sort of “pseudo-proper” noun. It’s not as personal as calling a bird “Bob” or “Mary” but clearly differentiates it from something generic like a blue jay or a yellow warbler (there are a LOT of yellow warblers!).
Geothlypis trichas is a yellow warbler.
But it turns out that to capitalize or not has another issue that I hadn’t considered until recently.
Is it Elitist?
My friend and überbirder Laura Erickson somewhat recently brought up the capitalization issue as it relates to non-birders. Specifically she was wondering if using capital letters seemed snobby or elitist to non-birders. This is something I had not thought of, but seemed a legitimate, if somewhat self-important question. Does it portray birders as pompous for using capitalization in a manner that non-birders might assume is reserved for proper names? Here, the Proper Names Camp has some traction. If, in the public eye, the use of capitalization is seen as unnecessary (or even incorrect) and puts birders and bird watching in a negative light, isn’t that a reason for the Capitalization Camp to fold up their tents and give up?
Does it Matter?
It’s not clear what the “public” thinks about this (or how much they do or should care), so for now the debate will continue. But in the end, does it matter if we all know what we are talking about? It would seem to me that in the end it’s clear what bird species or type we are writing about in context, and as long as we are communicating our love, respect and excitement about birds and their importance in the world, we’re all doing fine. That’s what matters to me, even though to me it will always be a Blue Jay. What do you think?
It’s been a wild few weeks here at the Lonely Birder Perch, but after a solid week of heavy rain every afternoon and weekends full of non-birding fun, I got back to birding this past Sunday at the Cameron Preserve in Palm Bay. It’s taken me a while to get this post up, so thanks for hanging in there with me!
As I’ve probably mentioned before, the Cameron Preserve is an area of protected land between the East and West Malabar Scrub Sanctuary parcels. I’ve crossed the northern edge of it while traversing both Malabar and the Turkey Creek Sanctuaries. On Sunday I decided to have a closer look at the Preserve itself.
Believe it or not, this was one of the drier parts!
At first glance, the areas away from Turkey Creek (the hydrological feature) would seem to be filled what environmental biologists call “obligate” upland species of plants. That’s just a fancy way of saying that due to certain environmental features (like ground water level, elevation, slope, soils, etc.) one would expect species that must live in dryer, higher places. For the most part, the Malabar Scrub Sanctuary is full of obligate upland plants, once you move away from the creek. Much of the Cameron Preserve is contiguous with Malabar, but if you look carefully, some areas have what are called “facultative” wetland species. That’s another fancy term environmental biologists use. It means that usually those plants are found in wetland habitats, but sometimes they are found in upland settings.One reason these plants survive slightly drier times in the uplands is because the ground water level (or water table) remains high enough for long enough in the year to support them. Extended periods of drought can take their toll on these plants, though.
With the copious rainfall over the past week there was a LOT of standing water in the Cameron Preserve, and the “usually” wetlands plants were loving it. I’m not very good with my Florida wetland plant identification, but there were various reed-like plants and broad leafy ground cover that during dryer spells might blend in, but because of the water, they were really standing out.
In any case, I began my hike from the eastern part of the Malabar Scrub Sanctuary and made my way into the Preserve. My intent was to circle around in the Preserve and make my way back to where I started. Somehow, I got myself into the Preserve but when I tried to make my way back, I kept running into huge flooded areas or impenetrable scrub.
As I slogged around, I saw some Scrub Jays and Eastern Towhees, and several species of woodpeckers.
I find it interesting that while during the past couple of years the bird population density has been much lower than “normal” in the area, and that this has coincided with a decline in Northern Cardinals and birds of prey that hunt song-birds (like Sharp-shinned and Coopers Hawks, for example).
There were some loose flocks of Fish Crows, some with missing primaries (wing feathers), most likely as they molt and replace them.
The relative peacefulness of the morning ended abruptly, however, when a low flying helicopter passed over the Preserve and began circling over the Turkey Creek Sanctuary. This had the immediate effect of scattering most of the birds (an probably other animals) away from the sound.
I’m pretty sure a whirlybird isn’t really a bird…
After further investigation i found that this is a Brevard County Sheriff’s Department helicopter. It’s equipped with pontoons for water search and rescue. I don’t know what was happening, but the helicopter circled and hovered for 20 minutes or more before either finding somewhere to land (not sure where that might be in that area) or heading off for a while. After about 15 more minutes, it returned for a few more minutes before heading out of the area.
Soon after the helicopter left, a group of Swallow-tailed Kites (click to see them in my previous photoblog post) came swooping over. I think it’s possible this was a family unit. It seemed like 2 adults and 3 juveniles, based on the tail length and the way they flew (the 2 adults were much more graceful).
I hope you get a sense of how perfect these birds are in the endless sky.
Because I could not find a way around the flooded areas, I walked down a residential street out to the main road. From there it was a relatively short walk to the Malabar Scrub Sanctuary East, where I got back to my car and headed home.
Apart from the lovely sight of a Swallow-tailed Kite family and some unexpected aircraft, I got two ankles full of fire ant bites to commemorate my hike this week.
It’s the first full day of astronomical Summer in the Northern Hemisphere! Happy Summer!
In my excitement to get out and about early this morning, I left my camera behind, which was a big bummer. We have had a couple of days in a row with some heavy thunderstorms and downpours in the area, and I was anxious to see how Turkey Creek and the adjacent canal were affected. Haste makes waste, as they say, right?
It turns out the creek was about a foot higher than I last saw it, but it had dropped lower than that before the rains came this week. So I don’t know the total difference right before and after. In any case, there was a bit of debris washed over the trails, and evidence the creek had run up on the banks here and there, but otherwise nothing too epic.
On the way to the canal by the Scrub Trail there was a total of 4 immature Coopers Hawks in a dead tree. This is the same general area I saw a pair of the same species last year. They must be recently fledged, and they were making short, noisy flights around the western side of the sanctuary all morning.
The other “main event” of the morning was an apparently newborn manatee in the creek with its mother. I first saw a couple of manatees grazing along the creek banks along McKinnon’s Way, but when I got to one overlook, there was a smallish adult manatee just laying in the water, with its (her) back sticking up. It took a breath every minute or so. Then, I saw a tiny nose poke up next to her, then a small, smooth gray back. It was soo cool (and NO CAMERA!). A man and a woman came along the path from the Canoe Deck, and told me they had seen her in the same spot yesterday before the big downpour, and she seemed “in distress” which they thought might be labor. WIth a newborn manatee in evidence, I’d say they were right.
I watched the manatees for a bit, then made my way around the park, doing the boardwalks first, then the Sand Pine Trail before exiting.
I know I don’t generally like wall-of-text posts, so I’ll wrap this up with my species list for today, generally in order of first identification (♫ = voice only):
This past Sunday I decided to do my birding at the Moccasin Island Tract at the River Lakes Conservation area. In all my past visits here, I’ve headed south from the parking area and walked about a mile or so before turning back. I’ve generally avoided the northern trail because it leads to a hunting area in the Upper St. Johns Marsh WMA. But since (according to the post at the trailhead) no hunting is in season this time of year, I decided to head north.
Much of the Moccasin Tract is owned by the St. Johns River Water Management District and leased by the Duda cattle ranch, and they manage the conservation land jointly. (By the way, the Duda company also develops and manages Viera, FL.)
A Duda cow watches, not impressed.
The first birds I heard were the ever present Eastern Meadowlarks and some American Crows (not Fish Crows!) in the distance. The crows only briefly appeared close enough for me to see once, otherwise they were content to stay well to my west. The meadowlarks were singing on prominent perches like fence posts and wires.
As Ann Wilson says, “Sing, child, sing!”
Further along the trail, I saw a fawn poke out of some brush onto the path briefly before ducking back in. A couple of minutes later, it came out again, but this time turned toward me and started walking in my direction! There were no adult deer anywhere to be seen, and I stood still as it came closer. It eventually got to within 7 or 8 meters of me before stopping.
A curious fawn.
I didn’t want to fawn all over it, scaring it away.
Finally when it was just a few meters away, an adult (Mom, I suspect) came out of the brush and was not pleased her baby was so close. She made a snorting sound before bounding across the trail and over the barbed-wire fence, stopping to look back.
Mom nervously looks on.
Finally after another squeaky snort, the fawn found a low spot along the barbed-wire and leaped across, and mother and baby bounded off into the brush and trees to the east.
The northern trail is about 4 kilometers (2.5 miles) long, and I thought I stopped about half-way. Later when I consulted an online map, I realized I walked almost to the end of the trail near Lake Winder. That made my total walking distance over 8 kilometers (5 miles)! If I had known I was that close to the end of the trail and the lake, I would have gone the extra distance, but in the end, I wound up pretty sore.
I stopped at a couple of points on the trail where there were copses of trees. A pair of Downy Woodpeckers were tapping around some palm trees in one area, and another larger grove of Live Oaks was sheltering some Northern Mockingbirds, Northern Cardinals and at least one Carolina Wren.
There were many Cattle Egrets, as you might expect on a cattle ranch. In addition, I saw or heard a couple of dozen other species typical of eastern central Florida.
It ended up being a long walk, but it wasn’t as hot as last week. Despite the sore legs and feet, it was a fine morning.
This past Sunday morning I decided to have a walk around the Ritch Grissom Memorial Wetlands at Viera, since I haven’t been there for a couple of months. I wasn’t disappointed as there was a lot of action and a good amount of birds. I walked the outer perimeter roads first, which allowed me to have pretty good views of wetland birds and habitat on the inside of the loop with transitional and upland habitat on the outside.
A sea of reeds.
The high concentrations of American Coots and Common Gallinules from the winter have gone, but there were pairs and family groups of both still scattered around the ponds. I even got a few photos of some gallinule chicks, which are quite cute.
“Mom! Tell this man to stop taking my picture!”
I was slightly surprised to see a few Black-necked Stilts in most of the ponds. They are very striking birds, with almost comically long legs, an adaptation that allows them to forage in places other similarly sized birds cannot take advantage of.
Sure they may look awkward, but stilts get the job done.
The air was full of White Ibises and Cattle Egrets, as there seems to be a rookery of some sort across one of the ponds. It’s a little hard to see from the photograph, but there were dozens of birds in the trees.
Aliteration exercise: a cadre of cacophonous Cattle Egrets.
Some were adults, but many were fledglings with varying flight experience. The young Cattle Egrets were making test flights out over the trees while the adults shuttled themselves (and food!) back and forth over the ponds. It was surprisingly hard to capture their flights, but I managed to get a few photos. I also saw individual Roseate Spoonbills in flight, but none actually wading in the wetlands.
Egret Food Delivery Services, Inc.
Walking along the outer loop, I could hear some more upland or transitional species, like Carolina Wrens and Eastern Meadowlarks. Meanwhile, other blackbird species, like the Red-winged Blackbirds and Boat-tailed Grackles were flying about with food to feed their fledgling and near-fledgling chicks. This nearly independent Boat-tailed Grackle female was quite interested in me, and followed me around on prominent perches, as if wanting camera time. Of course I obliged.
Female Boat-tailed Grackle, sitting pretty.
Its interesting how the demands of raising chicks change the behavior of adult birds. Normally, species like the Least Bittern are very secretive and hard to flush out into the open. But with hungry mouths, it’s important that the parents forage out to get food, and that means venturing more out into the open. I saw a good number of adult Least Bitterns dashing out of the reeds, flying low across open water, frantic to get back under cover. While most of my bittern photographs didn’t turn out, I did take this one of an overly curious chick. Right after I took this picture, an adult darted into the reeds and bodily shoved the chick into the reeds and back under cover!
It’s a great big world outside your reed bed, little one.
Whereas there were nesting Sandhill Cranes in the wetlands earlier in the Spring, the crane families are now walking and foraging outside the wetlands in the adjacent grass areas and neighboring ranch land. I believe for some of these cranes, it is their second brood.
After I finished the outer loop, I drove the car to the center area of the park, and walked the inner road. Here there were more of the larger herons, mixed in with the smaller species.
A truly great and blue heron.
Green Heron.
There was one Great Blue Heron that was very patiently staring down at the water waiting for prey. It stood motionless for quite a while. In fact, I passed it twice while trying to photograph some other birds, and it never moved.
This heron remained motionless for at least a half an hour. Patience personified… or at least avianified.
Of the smaller, non-white herons, the Tri-Colored Herons were the most active and agitated. I’ve noticed that this species seems to be the most “high-strung” of the smaller herons, though I don’t know why
Tri-colored Herons are dainty and what people with way too much vocabulary call “gracile.”
There were a few Little Blue Herons in the midst of changing from white (immature) to dark blue (adult). I love this phase, as I think they look like living marble.
Little Blue Marble Heron coming in for a landing.
There were a few medium sized alligators as well. When they’d pass near the gallinules, the birds would call out nervously and jump up on the nearest clump of vegetation or mud and bicker at it as it passed. I estimate the largest alligator that I saw to be about 7 feet long.
Let’s head away from this alligator head that’s heading away from us. (Uh, wait a sec…)
As the morning warmed up, vultures, anhingas and some other birds took to the thermals. Anhingas will often soar high on thermals, a curious adaptation for a diving bird.
“Can’t keep my eye from the circling sky.”
On the drive out, I passed a couple of large Florida Soft-shelled Turtles. Normally they bask with their long necks held in graceful s-curves, but as my car drew near, they partially retracted their necks. They can grow quite large, and in fact both specimens I saw had shells at least 18” in diameter.
These turtles are fantastic!
Here is the total list for the morning, including First of Year (FOY) and voice only (♫) species:
It was a hot day, but even in summer, these wetlands are beautiful and active, with many species successfully breeding and raising young. With the continued assault on and development of wetlands in the area, this park will remain a vital part of wildlife conservation for the species that call it home. Projects like this, born of mitigation of water treatment from the development that makes them so vital, are all the more ironic for it.
Lovely.
This White-winged Dove sang a song sounded like she was singin’
“What? Who cooks for you? Said, yooouuuurrrr…”
Close enough, Stevie Nicks… ❤
Lonely Birder 