winter Texans

Fishing by the Sea

There is one knows not what sweet mystery about this sea, whose gently awful stirrings seem to speak of some hidden soul beneath. –Herman Melville

Reddish Egret (White Morph) with Shrimp, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas
Reddish Egret (White Morph) with Shrimp, back beach lagoon, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

The weather last weekend was nothing short of fantastic, so off to the coast we went! A stretch of beach with a collection of lagoons and tidal channels behind (just north of the Houston Audubon Least Tern nesting sanctuary) is one of our favorite birding spots on Galveston. Here, we saw a mix of the new and the familiar.

The birds were the usual suspects for this time of year, but we caught them doing something we’d not seen before: dining on a profusion of shrimp. We saw Reddish Egrets and Lesser Yellowlegs clearly grabbing shrimp. I also suspect that Neotropic Cormorants were eating them too, but I couldn’t document the interaction photographically. I have seen Cormorants eating shrimp before, but in freshwater.

Neotropic Cormorant with Fish, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas
Neotropic Cormorant with Fish, back beach lagoon, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Elisa noticed that potholes on the bottom of a lagoon–that used to be a tidal channel, now walled off from the sea by a dune–were filled wth young shrimp. These potholes appeared to be abandoned fish nests. The Lesser Yellowlegs were clearly plucking shrimp from the potholes, whereas the Reddish Egret seemed to be grabbing larger shrimp from the water column.

In addition to shrimp being taken, a variety of fish, including shad and killifish were being gobbled up by cormorants and waders. The strand line was scattered with flocks of Sanderlings. A few Ruddy Turnstones and Black-bellied Plovers were in the mix. All of these species can often be seen scavenging carcasses washed up on shore. This day was no exception: An aggressive Ruddy Turnstone repeatedly ran off a cadre of hungry Sanderlings vying for carrion.

All in all, a spectacular, winter-like day. We can only hope for many more,

Ruddy Turnstone with fish, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas
Ruddy Turnstone with Fish Carcass, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Outside the frame are a group of Sanderlings waiting for the least weakening of resolve by the Turnstone. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

©2017 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

Keeping an Eye Out for Ross’s Geese

Life is not a spectacle or a feast; it is a predicament.–George Santayana

Sandhill Cranes, Snow and Ross's Geese, San Bernardo National Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico
Sandhill Cranes with Lesser Snow and Ross’s Geese, San Bernardo National Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico. Ross’s Geese are much smaller than Lesser Snow Geese. Can you pick out the Ross’s Geese? Hint: there is one near the center in the foreground staring back at the camera. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Huge flocks of waterfowl are one of the great spectacles of the fall and winter. Lesser Snow Geese congregate in wetlands and agricultural fields like those in and around Anahuac National Wildlife Refuge, Texas. At Anahuac, thousands of birds can dot the land and water and form swirling clouds, but we’ve only seen them from a distance, deep in the marshes or fields. Truth be told, I assumed that all the white waterfowl we’ve seen here in the past were Lesser Snow Geese. This is probably not the case.

Last Winter, on a road trip to New Mexico, we were able to get close enough to similar flocks to identify a few of the much smaller Ross’s Geese that could easily pass unnoticed. Ross’s Geese are rare visitors to Texas and New Mexico and are far fewer in number than Snow Geese, with which they have been know to interbreed.

Ross’s Geese are small and cute, with relatively stubby beaks and round domed heads, like baby animals. As a naturalist, the first word that entered my mind when I saw Ross’s Geese was neoteny. Neotenic evolution occurs when juvenile features are retained in the adult . . . .

Ross's Geese, Bosque Del Apache National Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico
Two Ross’s Geese Surrounded by Lesser Snow Geese, Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico. Note the bluish patch near the base of the bill on the Ross’s Geese. Also note that several of the Lesser Snow Geese are blue phase (blue geese). Blue phase Ross’s Geese are also known but are rare. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4 IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Ross’s Geese are Arctic breeders whose lives were poorly understood until the recent past. In the 1930’s, they were thought to only number several thousand individuals. Snow Geese were in a similar predicament a few decades earlier. In recent times, though, both species have greatly expanded their numbers and now make up sizable flocks.

The standard adaptationist explanation for herds or flocks or animals is that there is safety in numbers. The chance of any individual being taken by a predator is low. A logical extension of this strategy would be to be a rare species in a much larger group of another species. Any attack by a predator on the group would most likely result in a member of the more abundant species being taken.

Could the rarity of Ross’s Geese, coupled with looking like a juvenile (and hence receiving gentler treatment from the other geese?), be a survival strategy? Every trip to the field provides more questions than answers and ample fuel for speculation.

Snow Geese in Formation, San Bernardo National Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico
Lesser Snow Geese in Formation, San Bernardo National Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico. One of these days I’ll get a Ross’s Goose in formation with Snow Geese either in Texas or New Mexico . . . but not this day. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

©2017 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

The Healing Power of Birds

Economy, prudence, and a simple life are the sure masters of need, and will often accomplish that which, their opposites, with a fortune at hand, will fail to do. –Clara Barton

Snow Goose in Flight, San Bernardo National Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico
Snow Goose in Flight, San Bernardo National Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

As you may have guessed, dear readers, Harvey destroyed our house. For the past month, we have been struggling to begin the clean-up while still going to our jobs. This last week we managed to get back out into the field for the first time in quite a while. Although too hot to really enjoy being out, it reminded us of the joy birding has been for us in the past, and what a source of pleasure it will be in the future.

On this outing, we visited East Beach, Galveston hoping for some migrant shorebirds and Lafitte’s Cove hoping for some migrant songbirds. Neither spot was very birdy during our visit. In the shorebird department, we saw only Least Sandpipers, Black-bellied Plovers, and Sanderlings (the usual suspects). At Lafitte’s Cove, in addition to resident birds, we saw but a single Magnolia and Wilson’s Warbler . . . .

Sandhill Crane in Flight, San Bernardo National Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico
Sandhill Crane in Flight, San Bernardo National Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

But soon, it will be cool, and the ducks and geese will return. The Sandhill Cranes will return, and the beaches will swarm with migrant shorebirds, and the woods will teem with migrant songbirds. Soon even the bloodsucking flies will disappear (mostly), and we’ll not have to be slathered in sunscreen to avoid getting fried. In short, this birder’s world will return to the paradise it often is, and dreams of local and far-away trips can return, and the healing can begin . . . .

Singing Snow Bunting, Anton Larsen Wall, St. Paul Island, Pribilof Islands, Alaska
Singing Snow Bunting on Drift Log, Anton Larsen Wall, St. Paul Island, Pribilof Islands, Alaska. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

©2017 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

Dunlin!

Isn’t life a series of images that change as they repeat themselves? –Andy Warhol

Dunlin in Breeding Color, Lake Superior, Wisconsin
Dunlin (Breeding), South Shore, Lake Superior, Wisconsin. The bright rufous back is unique for a North American sandpiper. Note how trim this bird is compared to the Texas fatties below! Flying a few thousand miles will definitely get a bird in shape! This bird was still on its way to the Arctic. Photo taken in June, 2013. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

I continue to find bird watching a most challenging hobby. This week, after reading an article about cormorant identification, I discovered to my horror that I had misidentified several birds in previous posts. I was going by a common field mark (no yellow lores on Neotropic Cormorants), published in many field guides—that is wrong! As a result, I went through the entire blog and made corrections.

Small sandpipers, too, are the stuff of nightmares, as far as bird identifications go. For some reason, I often find myself staring at Dunlins, trying to establish a gestalt to distinguish them from the other look-alike cutie-pie sandpipers they might be . . . .

Dunlin, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas
Dunlin (transitional), East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Photo taken this spring. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Because Dunlins breed in the Arctic and winter along the Texas Gulf Coast, we usually don’t see them in their distinctive breeding colors. This spring I’ve seen a few transitioning into breeding plumage, though. And in those cases, it really helped with the identification—especially the black belly feathers coming in, which are unique for a Texas sandpiper. Otherwise, I’m looking for black legs and a long, droopy black beak on a butterball. If you see these features, you’ve only got to make sure you haven’t got a Western Sandpiper, and you’re done—except for figuring out what the bird’s up to!

Dunlin, Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas
Dunlin (Nonbreeding), Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas. Photo taken November 7, 2016. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

©2017 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission,

Common Loons: Into Breeding Plumage

What we achieve inwardly will change outer reality. –Plutarch

Common Loon in Pin Feathers, Offatt's Bayou, Galveston island, Texas
Common Loon in Pin Feathers, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston island, Texas. The tips of the pin feathers on the neck and head are pigmented black. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Common Loon in Pin Feathers, Offatt's Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas
Common Loon in Pin Feathers 2, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. This is the same bird as above. Note the shagginess of the pin feathers on head and neck. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

This week on Galveston, Common Loons could be seen in many stages of transitional plumage. Every bird looked slightly different. All the birds I saw had some degree of spotting on the wings, and so lacked the brown, scalloped pattern of nonbreeding wing plumage. I saw one bird with a shaggy mane of pin feathers (Thanks to S.M. for pointing out this bird!) and one bird in almost complete breeding colors—only a stray feather here or there needed to be pigmented.

Common Loon, Offatt's Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas
Common Loon in Transitional Plumage, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. This bird appears to be in nonbreeding plumage from the neck forward. Spots on the wings show the transition to breeding colors has begun, though. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Common Loon, Offatt's Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas
Another Common Loon in Transitional Plumage, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. This bird is a little further along than the one immediately above. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Many birds were engaged in hunting behavior much of the time. I saw fish, crabs, and a single mantis shrimp (Squilla empusa) being taken. This is clearly the time of year to be gorging and fattening up. It’s a long way back to Canada and environs for the breeding season! A good deal of preening was also going on, likely related to molting and keeping feathers in shape for the big trip ahead. Two birds had already pair-bonded and spent a significant amount of time together–another reminder that breeding in birds is often a process that unfolds in many stages over much of the year.

Common Loon in (Nearly) Breeding Colors, Offatt's Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas
Common Loon in Breeding Colors (Nearly), Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. This bird was more shy than many others and had apparently already pair-bonded. Another bird in less well-developed transitional plumage kept appearing in close proximity. Could shyness toward humans and pair-bonding behaviors be related? Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

©2017 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

The Two Shutterbirds Take a Break!

Life is one long process of getting tired.–Samuel Butler

California Pelican, Offatt's Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas
California Pelican, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. We always keep an eye out for the red throat pouch—a sign of the Pacific race of the Brown Pelican. The blackish- or brownish-green-throated Atlantic Brown Pelicans greatly outnumber the Pacifics along the Texas Gulf Coast. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4 L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

The house is in shambles, and the yard looks like a post-apocolyptic wasteland (Thanks, sod webworm moth larvae!) so we’re takin’ a break! Not to worry, we’ll be back on the ball soon!

©2017 Christopher R. Cunningham and Elisa D. Lewis. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

Grebes: Unique Foot-propelled Divers

Feet, what do I need you for when I have wings to fly?—Frida Kahlo

Eared Grebe, Offatt's Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas
Portrait: Eared Grebe, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Among extant birds, grebes have a unique method of foot propulsion. There are other foot-propelled divers, loons, for example, but these birds have significant webbing between the toes. The birds with webbed toes push themselves forward against the drag force of water. Grebes, on the other hand, have separate toes with stiff, collapsible asymmetrical lobes on each side. The lobes on the inside are larger than those on the outside. Grebes are also unusual in that their relatively short femora (thigh bones) are oriented perpendicular to the long axis of the body, and the toes beat along a complex dorso-lateral to ventro-medial path, rather than parallel to the direction of the body’s forward motion.

Diving Eared Grebe, Offatt's Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas
Diving Eared Grebe, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. Although grebes have a unique method of foot-propulsion, they look like many other submarine hunters (e.g., loons, mergansers, cormorants) from above the water as they dive after prey. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

The traditional interpretation of how grebes paddled through the water, and the one I was taught, is that the lobes of the toes would unfold during then power stroke to provide maximum drag to push against, and fold up to reduce drag on the the recovery stroke. A more recent interpretation is that the grebe foot acts like a (slotted) hydrofoil and provides a lift force that propels the bird forward from behind (Johansson and Norberg, 2001)–physically similar to the way in which a wing allows a bird or airplane to fly. The lift hypothesis has an immediate visceral appeal to me given the asymmetrical lobes of the toes—like the vanes of a flight feather. Lift is usually explained by elementary physics textbooks as the result of the Bernoulli principle, essentially the conservation of energy for a moving fluid. This explanation is not correct quantitatively. The true explanation likely involves the most terrifying of all physics concepts . . . turbulence . . . . 

Diving Eared Grebe, Offatt's Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas
Diving Eared Grebe 2, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

As a photographer on the surface, I haven’t been able to document the strange way in which grebes move through the water. Once and a while, when conditions were right, I have been treated to a glimpse of the legs in motion as in the image below. Swimming with grebes is one more activity to add to an already lengthy bucket list.

I mentioned at the opening that grebes were unique among extant birds. Hesperornithiformes, a group of toothed Cretaceous foot-propelled diving birds, are thought to have had a method of propulsion similar to grebes and to have possessed asymmetrically lobed individual toes. On a recent visit to the New Mexico Museum of Natural History in Albuquerque, I had the opportunity to study the feet of a life-sized model of Hesperornis regalis, the largest of these Cretaceous divers from the Kansas Chalk Sea. Reading the label . . . sure enough, reconstruction supervised by Dr. L. D. Martin, my late (paleo)ornithology professor, a gifted teacher with so many fascinating stories to tell about the lives of birds. . . .

Diving Eared Grebe, Offatt's Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas
Diving Eared Grebe 3, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. Offatt’s Bayou is a great place to see Eared Grebes hunting in winter. Texas City Dike is another. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

While grebe-watching, I am always interested in seeing these birds return to the surface with prey. In my experience along the Gulf Coast, Eared Grebes rarely return to the surface with prey. After dozens of dives, I have seen only one small fish clamped in a beak. This means that grebes are either remarkably unsuccessful hunters (unlikely), or that they can swallow small prey underwater (likely). Pied-billed and Least Grebes can be seen with large prey on the surface like fish, crawfish, frogs, and dragonflies. Perhaps small prey may be easily swallowed in the submarine realm, whereas large prey items may need to be manipulated into an ideal orientation in the air. In any case, grebes are certainly among the most interesting subjects for study and observation. Elisa doesn’t have to ask me twice to go grebe-watching!

Pied-billed Grebe withCrawfish, Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas
Juvenile Pied-billed Grebe with Crawfish, Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. In the past, Brazos Bend SP was great place to see Pied-billed Grebes hunting year-round. Recent flooding has decimated the ecology of the park, and water birds are no longer abundant. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Reference

Johansson, L.C., and Norberg, U. M. L. Norberg. 2001. Lift-based Paddling in Diving Grebe. The Journal of Experimental Biology 204: 1687-1696.

©2017 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

 

Birds in “Good” and “Bad” Light

There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so. –William Shakespeare

Double-crested Cormorant with Plecostomus, Fiorenza Park, Houston
Double-crested Cormorant with “Plecostomus,” Fiorenza Park, Houston, Texas. We Texans may be horrified by the proliferation of these South American armored catfish in our waters, but to cormorants that range far to the south, it still feels like home when they’re around. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

l know there is a great diversity of opinion on this subject, but my favorite kind of Texas photo-birding day is the day after a strong blue norther. The howling winds have died down, and the 40º sky is clear, but for a thin haze of cirrus clouds. This kind of day has been in very short supply for several years now.

Neotropic Cormorant with Plecostomus, Fiorenza Park, Houston, Texas
Eye to Eye: Neotropic Cormorant with “Plecostomus,” Fiorenza Park, Houston, Texas. In this shot, the sun was in the wrong position (or rather I was), leading to too much glare from the water and a backlit bird. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Lately the weather has been wildly variable, with clear, cold days rare. This has meant having to make the most of a wide variety of lighting situations. The two cormorant shots above were taken under what I consider to be “bad” conditions. The sky was mostly cloudy with sunbreaks every few minutes leading to having to constantly chimp settings. When the sun emerged, it produced a blinding, muddy-yellow glare off the water’s surface. Because the fishing behavior documented was happening all around me, the sun was sometimes behind and sometimes ahead—making for an exciting morning of work!

Eared Grebe, Offatt's Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas
Ad Noctem: An Eared Grebe Paddles off into the Fog, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. I like the way the wake ends at a veil of fog. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Eared Grebe, Offatt's Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas
Eared Grebe, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. Perfect light, but not perfect perspective. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Two recent visits to Offatt’s Bayou occurred during very different optical conditions. The upper grebe and loon immediately below were shot on a gloomy, gray, foggy morning. And the lower grebe and loon were shot on the same glorious, clear, bright morning about a week later at the same place.

This shooting locale (where 61st crosses Offfatt’s Bayou) has only recently become accessible again. Where rickety old docks used to stand, there is now a large raised cement viewing/fishing platform. The problem with the new platform is that it is too high, leading to an extreme shooting angle. The old situation was actually better, assuming you were willing to risk falling into the drink to get the shot. Alas, there’s really nothing to be done about the angle now—except to try and capture some interesting wave forms, colors, reflections, or textures from the surface of the water. Sometimes you have to take what you can get! Progress!

Common Loon, Offatt's Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas
Made in the Shade: Common Loon, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. It looks like this bird is swimming in mercury. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Common Loon, Offatt's Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas
Transitional Common Loon, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. Images from this locale tend to look better from a bit of a distance, given the raised nature of the observation platform. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

©2017 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

Cooperative Feeding in American White Pelicans

Birds are the most popular group in the animal kingdom. We feed them and tame them and think we know them. And yet they inhabit a world which is really rather mysterious. –David Attenborough

Line of American White Pelicans, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas
Line of American White Pelicans, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Frankly we haven’t gotten out much lately. This is a function of terrible weather and just plain exhaustion. The prospect of fighting traffic on a gloomly, humid 85° day in February hasn’t held much charm. Spending time indoors has led to combing through the photo archives and pining for past years in which we had a proper winter.

One of the things we would have been watching for this week, had we been outdoors, is the cooperative feeding behavior of American White Pelicans. Whenever I see these birds I stand in awe, just waiting for them to so something neat. Is there anything more majestic in American birding than a string of White Pelicans paddling in formation along the shallows searching for schools of fish?

American White Pelican Feeding Frenzy, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas
American White Pelican Feeding Frenzy, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

American White Pelicans are known to cooperatively herd fish into the shallows by beating their wings. On Galveston, a fairly common sight is a line of White Pelicans suddenly forming a circle, beaks pointed inward, and gobbling up a school of fish (presumably).

Pelican Phalanx, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas
Pelican Phalanx, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Once the feeding frenzy is over, the birds turn around within their circular formation and reassemble into their line and continue paddling along peacefully . . . until the next school of fish.

After fishing, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas
Back in Line, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

©2017 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

The Two Shutterbirds Take a Mid-winter Break

Take rest; a field that has rested gives a beautiful crop. –Ovid

First Winter Ring-billed Gull, Port Aransas Jetty, Mustang Island, Texas
Who are you? Chris enjoys inspecting flocks of birds for rarities. Recently he scanned a large flock of gulls and terns on Mustang Island and recognized everyone—except the bird above and another like it. Complicating matters is the fact that some species of gulls change their appearance every year for the first few years of life. It turned out that the speckled birds were first-winter Ring-billed Gulls. Not rarities for sure, but it was the first time he had seen this plumage type. Port Aransas Jetty, Mustang Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

The last few weeks have been rather hectic, and we’re wiped out. Never fear, we’ll be back on the ball soon sharing some images of, and words about, our incredible Texas avifauna! Cheers, Elisa and Chris

Lone Blue Goose, Bosque del Apache NWR, New Mexico
Lone Blue Goose, Bosque del Apache NWR, New Mexico. Thousands of waterfowl winter at this incredible refuge. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

©2017 Christopher R. Cunningham and Elisa D. Lewis. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

Black-bellied Plover Colors

It was tremendously satisfying to watch this color parade. –Erno Rubik

Juvenile Black-bellied Plover, Port Aransas, Texas
Black-bellied Plover in Juvenile Plumage, Port Aransas, Texas. Photo taken in late November. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

On the Texas Gulf Coast, birders can see Black-bellied Plovers in all plumage types, except down. Nonbreeding colors are easiest to see here, and in other coastal wintering areas from the Canadian border to South America on both East and West coasts. Although a few birds summer along the Texas Gulf Coast, Black-bellied Plovers breed exclusively in the High Arctic, so seeing nestlings in down would be a major undertaking.

Black-bellied Plover at Dawn, Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas
Black-bellied Plover (Nonbreeding) at Dawn, Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas. Photo taken in late October. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Birds in transitional plumage can be seen during spring migration. Beginning in late March, birds in these intermediate colors can be seen fairly easily at such places as Frenchtown Road, Rollover Fish Pass, and across Galveston Island. By May, birds in dramatic breeding plumage can be seen in these same places. From mid-August to October, Black-bellied Plovers appear again in Texas for fall migration, and to begin their winter residence.

Black-bellied Plover in Transitional Plumage, Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas
Black-bellied Plover in Transitional Plumage, Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas. Photo taken in mid-April. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

When we first started birding, different seasonal plumages seemed to be a nightmarish complication to an already challenging hobby. But we have grown an appreciation for these changes: Rather than seeing them as an identification problem, we consider them an opportunity. Even common birds like Black-bellied Plovers can provide the challenge of seeing and photographing birds in every plumage type.

Black-bellied Plover in Breeding Plumage, Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas
Male Black-bellied Plover in Breeding Plumage, Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas. Photo in mid-May. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

©2016 Christopher R. Cunningham and Elisa D. Lewis. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.

Birding Portland and Corpus Christi, Texas

. . . the great floodgates of the wonder-world swung open . . . ― Herman Melville, Moby-Dick

Long-billed Curlew in Flight, Sunset Beach Park, Portland, Texas
Long-billed Curlew in Flight, Sunset Lake Park, Portland, Texas. Photo taken from a sandbar in Corpus Christi Bay.  Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Birding the Coastal Bend in Late Fall: Part 2

One of our favorite spots to bird when in the Corpus Christi area is Sunset Lake Park. The park is located on a peninsula, Sunset Lake to the west, Corpus Christi Bay to the east. This park contains a lovely stretch of shelly beach with sandbars close to shore. Sandbars along the Texas Gulf Coast are magical places, and are often covered in flocks of pelicans, terns, gulls, waders, skimmers, and shorebirds.

 

 

On this latest visit, Royal Terns, Marbled Godwits, and Long-billed Curlews predominated. As usual now on coastal trips, we brought our tall rubber boots and were able to wade out to the sandbars, a technique we often employ at East Beach, Galveston. The simple addition of boots to your field gear will dramatically transform any birding trip to the shore. It took us a few years to figure this out—just how many college and graduate degrees do we have? Maybe not enough.

 

American Oystercatcher wit h Bivalve, Sunset Beach Park, Portland, Texas
American Oystercatcher with Small Bivalve, Sunset Lake Park, Portland, Texas. Photo taken from a sandbar in Corpus Christi Bay. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

One of Chris’ favorite spots on the Coastal Bend is the Hans and Pat Suter Wildlife Refuge City Park on the south side of Corpus Christi. A shelter overlooks a stretch of beach that is often packed with ducks and waders during the colder months. This spot is great for gory hunting scenes and beauty shots of ducks, especially Northern Shovelers, Gadwall, Redheads, and American Wigeons.

The “freshwater channel” that cuts across the northern edge of the park is another gem of a birding spot, especially for ducks. Here, the birds typically allow a close approach. Ignore the sign that says “do not pass beyond this sign.” Kidding.

Finally, we are sometimes apprehensive about having our car broken into or being mugged at Suter given the sketchy characters loitering around the parking area. It’s almost comical the way they look away when you glance in their direction. So with the caveat that you may be taking your life in your hands, we highly recommend this park!

Gadwall Hen, freshwater channel, Hans and Pat Suter City Wildlife Park, Corpus Christi, Texas
Gadwall Hen, “freshwater channel,” Hans and Pat Suter Wildlife Refuge City Park, Corpus Christi, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
American Widgeon Hen, Hans and Pat Suter City Wildlife Park, Corpus Christi, Texas
American Wigeon Hen, Hans and Pat Suter Wildlife Refuge City Park, Corpus Christi, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light: the extra catchlights are reflections off the water.

©2016 Christopher R. Cunningham and Elisa D. Lewis. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.