Bolivar Peninsula

Birding the Slow Stretches

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finding Those Unappreciated Sparrows (by Accident)

Nelson's Sharp-tailed Sparrow, Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas
Nelson’s Sharp-tailed Sparrow, Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas. This bird was moving through seed-laden grasses with a group of Seaside Sparrows. Photo taken at about 7:30 am under a beautiful golden fall light. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4 TC).

Last weekend we birded High Island (Boy Scout Woods), Bolivar Flats, and Frenchtown Road. Frenchtown Road is an exceptional spot, and almost always the highlight of any Bolivar trip. It is a great spot for Clapper Rails, Whimbrel, and waders and shorebirds hunting prey, especially crustaceans. But, (rather unexpectedly) grass seed-head-chomping Nelson’s Sharp-tailed Sparrows were the highlight of this visit. Nelson’s Sharp-tailed Sparrows breed mostly in Canada, winter along the Gulf Coast, and are not a common sight in Texas—at least not where we usually bird.

Rufous-crowned Sparrow, Lost Maples State Natural Area, Texas
Rufous-crowned Sparrow on Mountain Laurel, Lost Maples State Natural Area, Texas. This bird was spotted on the way to find Golden-cheeked Warblers, which we found a few minutes later. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

Sparrows, in general, may be the least appreciated of birds, and I myself am often guilty of not affording them the respect they deserve. It’s rare for us to plan a trip around sparrows. This is despite their ecological importance and often beautiful earth-tone color schemes. We usually have more glamorous species in mind, like the rock stars of the birding world, the wood warblers when we plan birding trips. I spotted the the Rufous-crowned Sparrow above, for example, on a Central Texas trip centered around finding Golden-cheeked Warblers. Of course, It wouldn’t have hurt our feeling to have spotted Black-capped Vireos, too.

In my own defense, though, we do make an annual pilgrimage to Barfoot Park, in the Coronado National Forest, Arizona to see Yellow-eyed Juncos, an American Sparrow you’re not going to find by accident. Of course, it wouldn’t hurt my feelings to see a few Hepatic Tanagers while we’re there . . . .

Grasshopper Sparrow
Not Rare, but Secretive: Grasshopper Sparrow, Galveston Island State Park, Texas. Grasshopper Sparrows get their name from the grasshopper-like sounds they make. They’re not a sparrow one sees every day in this part of the world. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.

I don’t believe in accidents. There are only encounters in history. There are no accidents.—Pablo Picasso

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

Spring Shorebird Migration 2014 Wrap-up

Immature Red Knot at Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas
Juvenile Red Knot at Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas. According to the TOS Handbook of Texas Birds, large numbers of migrating Red Knots on the Bolivar Peninsula are, like many avian spectacles, “a thing of the past.” Red Knots breed on flat, desolate coastal areas of the High Arctic. Natural light. All photos Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC).

Now that May is almost over, it’s time to reflect on spring migration 2014 and plan for fall 2014 and spring 2015. This spring I had less success with songbirds and more success with shorebirds than I did last year. This was in part a function of taking special care to include shorebird localities (some new to us) in our travel plans along the Texas Gulf Coast, and in part simple luck. The results were shorebird species new to us and familiar species in different plumage colors than we’d seen before.

Baird's Sandpiper at Lafitte's Cove, Galveston Island, Texas
Baird’s Sandpiper(?) at the north pond, Lafitte’s Cove, Galveston Island, Texas. This bird was trying to pass unnoticed among a small group of Pectoral Sandpipers. Based on the bright white underparts, black legs, dark spot between eye and bill, silvery feather edges on upperparts, buff-colored upper breast with fine streaks, and wing tips that extend past the tail, I tentatively identified this bird as a Baird’s Sandpiper. I invite comments from anyone who knows better, however. High-speed synchronized fill-flash.

Of course, more time devoted to one arena of birding means less time for others. This year that didn’t fill me with too much regret as I often found the songbird hotspots to be really overcrowded, in some cases to the point where it was impossible to work. Many times shortly after arriving at a migrant songbird trap I’d find myself seeking a remote stretch of beach.

Muddy Whimbrel, Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas
Muddy Whimbrel at Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas. This bird was fishing for crabs in the soupy sediment. Hand-held. Natural light.

Birding for shorebirds has it’s own challenges, of course. Let’s face it: identifying peeps (small sandpipers) can be tough. But I don’t mind a steep learning curve. My hope is that with after a little struggle and effort for a few years, I’ll be able to ID shorebirds easily in the future. The crowding at songbird localities is not a problem that’s going away, though.

As a partial solution (I hope) we’re looking into exploring some migrant traps further east, perhaps Grand Isle, Louisiana and Dauphin Island, Alabama. I know these are famous places, too, but it’s hard to believe that they will be as crowded as High Island or Lafitte’s Cove in mid-April, given that the metropolitan areas near them are much smaller than Houston. We’ll see.

Eastern Willet in breeding colors at Sportsman's Road, Galveston Island, Texas
Eastern Willet in Breeding Colors at Sportsman Road, Galveston Island, Texas. Note the pink base of the bill. The eastern subspecies of the Willet (Tringa semipalmata semipalmatus) winters in Central and South America and breeds along the Texas Gulf Coast. Hand-held, from vehicle. Natural light.

So it’s like starting over again, but I look forward to the challenge.—Lee Majors

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