Red-eyed
Vireo
In the past
few
years
I’ve been on an extended dalliance with ornithologyi.
My original goal was to “learn” birds in the sense of being able
to identify most normal species, and build up some degree of
knowledge/loreii
about them. Part of this is my own curiosity, part my role as a
volunteer naturalist, and probably some appreciable part is a
frustrated inner biologist stuck working in a windowless cubicle on
dry regulatory documents. Whatever the impetus, I’ve spent the last
couple years learning what I’ve could from the local expertsiii.
I’m a far cry from the seasoned birders here who can identify
something from even the slightest glimpse based on the most esoteric
detail, but I have gotten a pretty good grounding on all things
feathered.
Spring is migration season here on the
upper Texas Gulf Coast. Many of the birds who migrate annuals from
South America and Mexico are funneled through our couple hundred
miles of coast before dispersing across the rest of US and Canada
along the juncture between the massive Central and Mississippi
Flyways. That all adds up to a lot of birds (and a lot of birders)
all convening in the same location at the same time.
Sometimes
quite literally...
This year was pretty slow as seasons
go. Warblers, the bellwether group for spring, were down in numbers
it seemed, and the winds were good. And by good, I mean they were
bad. Let me explain…good winds for the birds (southerly tailwinds
helping their flight over the Gulf) are bad for coastal birders
because they push the birds far inland and disperse them over large
areas. Northerly headwinds cause “fallout” conditions in which
exhausted birds crash on the first specks of land they find, and
allows for better birdingiv.
Personally, camera and lens issues, and poor timing on a few tripsv
led to a less than stellar season for mevi.
Here are a few sort of highlightsvii,
regardless (many of which are not even migratory.)
Ruddy
Turnstone, Willet, Marbled Godwit, Clapper Rail, Great Egret with
Chicks, Blackburnian Warbler, Eastern Kingbird, American Avocets in
Flight, Sandwich Terns mating, Dickcissel, Canada Warbler, Painted
Bunting, Blue-headed Vireo, Black Skimmer, Scissor-tailed Flycatcher,
Hooded Warbler, Tennessee Warbler, Scarlet Tanager, Orchard Oriole,
Sora, Royal Tern in flight, Green-tailed Towhee.
NOTES
i
Despite my emphatic insistence, the “birder” label is starting
to creep into discussions about me. As I’ve pointed out, what I do
is birding by default. I’m really excited about wildlife in
general…and the preponderance of wildlife on the upper Texas Gulf
Coast is avifauna.
ii
Which are not always synonymous terms, in my experience.
iii
Which, given the focal point of birding that is the Upper Texas
Coast, are not hard to find here.
iv
I secretly revel when people carp about bad winds, because it means
it’s a good day for the birds, and bad day for the birders. Given
the choice between the two, I’ll side with the former. It’s hard
for me to make the ideological leap into being happy that birds will
be falling out, just because it means I’ll have a better
sightseeing experience.
v
A large number of the folks involved in the birding passtime are of
the retired set who can get out any day conditions are right. Those
of us who work during the day often have to watch fantastic reports
roll in during the week, only to be met with a virtual bird desert
on weekend trips.
vi
Nine new species, though only one was a warbler. Only 15 warblers
total. 163 total species over 5 weeks. Given the usual bird density
down here, this is not impressive.
viiWhile
I included a picture of some Sandwich Terns mating, I would not
consider this a highlight, per se. I had spent the better part of a
half an hour slowly military-crawling up on wet sand, balancing a
camer and binoculars, to a large mixed flock of terns and gulls. At
about the same time, someone else on the beach spooked them, causing
them to take off, and then resettle almost directly next to me on
the beach. This was great for photography until several pairs of
terns decided to get amorous right next to me. There is something
deeply, deeply unsettling about being surrounded by squawking terns
going at it.
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