Roseate Spoonbill

Last March, as we drove up the Texas coast, we contacted our friends, John and Kathy Holden, who were touring New Orleans. Our plan, in a couple of days, was to meet them in Covington, Louisiana, and do some birding. John asked, “Of course you plan to stop at High Island?”

High Island is famous among birders. John was reading “The Big Year"by Mark Obmascik, upon which the movie of the same nameis based. In the spring, and with the right weather, High Island hosts hundreds of exhausted migrants. High Island had not occurred to me—we were a bit early and the weather was too good. Actually, I did not really know where High Island was. I looked it up on our map—we would be driving across the island—there was no reason not to stop.

Administered by the National Audubon Society, High Island is a forested salt dome in the coastal plain. Just for the record, the High Island of reality does not seem to be the same location depicted in the movie. The refuge contains trails along a swamp and through woodlands. Spoonbills and egrets breed in a rookery in the swamp, and trails along a levee allow close approach. These birds alone are worth the visit. As predicted, we saw very few migrant songbirds, but the rookeries were spectacular.

I have seen spoonbills before, but never this close. The plumage of these breeding birds was truly “flamboyant,” as described by Dumas (2000). Previously I never noticed the golden-colored tails—a color that does not seem to be present on previous birds that I have photographed.

In the United States, Roseate Spoonbills are uncommon residents along southeastern coasts. The species was decimated by plume-hunters in the early 1900s. Most of this destruction may have been collateral, as the hunters slaughtered egrets in colonies shared with spoonbills. Spoonbills lack the plumes coveted by the millinery industry. Spoonbill wings, however, were sold as fans. By the 1940s, spoonbills were gone from Texas and persisted only in a few Florida locations. Although still a species of concern across much of its range, efforts by conservation governmental groups have restored populations from the brink of extinction in North America.

White-tailed Kite

As we continued north up the Texas coast last March, we photographed this White-tailed Kite. These kites almost became extinct in the early 1900s. But numbers have rebounded, and the kite’s range has expanded north along the Texas coast and up the Pacific Coast all the way up to Washington. The species is also found in southern Florida and Mexico south through South America.

Unfortunately, recently kite numbers have again declined, presumably due to habitat loss (Dunk 1995). These raptors inhabit savannas, where they hover-hunt for small mammals. Threats to savannas include conversion to agriculture and urbanization. My June 2012 blog post contains a bit more information on White-tailed Kites.

Ebony Jewelwing

On 23 June,  Erika and I encountered a dozen Ebony Jewelwings along the creek that drains Carleton College’s Lyman Lakes. We were photographing a female laying her eggs in the quiet water, when a male flew overhead, and landed next to her. We marveled how the male generated lift with its wings folded above its body. Perhaps air is simply much like water to a damselfly.

He seemed to be guarding her, perhaps from interference from other males. Paulson (2011) reports that males, in their territories, guard egg-laying females. Males without territories often try to sneak in and copulate with females in other males’ territories. In this case the male perched next to the female while she continued laying eggs.

Singing Prairie 2

This post is basically a repeat of a June 2011 entry from the Great Western Industrial Park near Randolph, Dakota County, Minnesota. The photographs are somewhat improved, except for this Bobolink, above, which is just different. Note the white wing spots and the right leg with which the bird has just launched itself. The industrial park is thankfully still awaiting industry, but its days are sill probably numbered.

Until then, Grasshopper Sparrows (above) and Savannah Sparrows still stake out territories—both species have yellowish lores, but the Grasshopper lacks the Savannah’s breast streaking. Their songs are also completely different.

A number of Dickcissels called from brush-tops. I have linked this short narrative to previous posts on these sparrows. The photos in this post were all taken on 17 June 2015.

White-tailed Hawk

After a few days in Rockport, on 19 March we headed north towards Port Arthur, Texas, and Covington, Louisiana. Along the way, we encountered a few interesting birds and, once in Louisiana, our first dragonflies.

The first of these birds was this White-tailed Hawk, a first for my photographic collection. This hawk inhabits arid savannas from Texas to Argentina. White-tailed Hawks are opportunistic predators eating a variety of small prey. The species tends to be shy, and, consequently, has been little studied (Farquhar 2009). Field marks include the black band at the end of the tail and its white breast. We spotted this individual along the highway. I slammed on the breaks and jumped out of the car. I captured these two photos before the bird flew. (Because of the extremely high speed “limits" on Texas secondary roads, birding became relatively perilous.)

Ruddy Turnstone

Last March, Erika and I enjoyed trying to photograph a couple dozen Ruddy Turnstones that scurried about the beach and parking lot at the Rockport Beach City Park. Because the birds did not stop to pose, this endeavor proved to be somewhat difficult.

Notice that the turnstone’s left foot lacks front toes. I did not see this abnormality until I worked on the photograph. Other Internet photographers comment that missing toes are a common turnstone affliction. Several explanations are possible, including frostbite, damage from being tangled in trash, or wounds from being trapped by bivalves. Who knows?

Hooded Warbler

Hooded Warblers are regular, but rare, migrants and summer residents in eastern Minnesota, but it is somewhat diffiuclt to follow Janssen'srange description. I have seen Hooded Warblers several times in Minnesota, and even banded one in my backyard. The bird in today’s post, found on Friday behind the visitor’s center at Afton State Park in Washington Co., is the first Minnesota bird that I have photographed in the wild.

The normal range for this species is from Southeastern Nebraska to the southern Great Lakes, south to the Gulf Coast. Hooded Warblers don’t seem to be declining in numbers—they are a “gap specialist,” preferring edge habitat and forest fragments. They are in trouble only where forests are being completely cut or in regions with large cowbird populations (Chiver et al. 2011). Each year, there seem to be more sightings of Hooded Warblers in Minnesota. I do not know if this increase is due to more of these warblers moving into the state or if there are just more birders looking for them.

Neotropic Cormorant

Neotropic Cormorants breed from the southern tip of South America north to the southern United States. The species wanders even further north, even into southern Canada. Field marks include the white line behind the birds’ relatively short, thin bill.

In 2010, Pelecaniformes, the order in which cormorants were conventionally placed, was split into three—Pelecaniformes (pelicans, herons, and ibis), Phaethontiformes (tropicbirds), and Suliformes (cormorants, boobies, gannets, and others). The bare throat patch and webbed toes of many of these groups is now considered not to be a unifying factor.

I have written about Neotropic Cormorants in this blog. I have not commented on their calls, which sound somewhat like pigs. As a result, Spanish names for Neotropic Cormorants include “pig duck” “Filthy Duck,” and “Grunting Duck” (Telfair and Morrison 2005). This handsome bird greeted us on one of the Rockport, Texas, piers.

Rusty Snaketail

Last year, Scott King and I made a deal. If I showed him a yellowlegs, he would find me a Rusty Snaketail. Scott explained to me that snaketails are found along the Cannon River, and often perch on midstream rocks. Despite Scott’s photographing snaketails at the Carleton College Arboretum and in the Cannon River Wilderness Area, Rusty Snaketails, for me, became a nemesis species, to borrow a birding phrase. It bothered Scott that I could not find one, especially since I, feeling a bit guilty about the ease of my half of the bargain, had introduced Scott to both Greater and Lesser yellowlegs.

On 14 June 2015, Erika and I made this year's first canoe trip on the Cannon River from Faribault to the Wilderness Area. The river was fairly high, submerging most, if not all, of the river rocks. We floated at about 5 mph, way too fast for dragonfly photography. I had given up hope of seeing a snaketail when Erika whispered, “There is your snaketail!” (I had given her a crash-course in snaketail identification.) “Where is it?” I asked. “Perched on the bow of the boat!” she replied. “Well, just lie back so I can see it too…” “No way,” said Erika, imagining, despite her utmost confidence in my canaoesmanship, the result of her lying backwards while her husband jumped up to take a photo.

Reminds me of a joke. What is the difference between a Minnesotan and a canoe?  Canoes tip.

Instead, Deadeye Erika swooped down upon the poor snaketail with her left hand. To her amazement, she caught it. I gave her a quick lecture on how to hold a captive dragonfly. The result can be seen in the photograph above. I am not usually a big fan of pictures of dragonflies being held by human hands, but, with such a great story, this once I do not mind. We released the dragonfly unharmed. We saw two or three more Rusty Snaketails, as we made our way down the river.

Willet

Willets breed in grasslands in the upper Great Plains, in marshes along the Atlantic and Gulf coasts, and in the Bahamas. Willets winter along both the Atlantic and Pacific coasts south through northern South America. I have written about Willet races in a previous blog post. We found the Willets in these photos in Rockport, Texas, last March.

Willets and other birds often stand on one leg. This habit enables birds to conserve heat and energy. By standing this way, a bird cuts heat loss by at least half. Furthermore, standing on one leg is energetically efficient. By placing a foot directly underneath its center of gravity, a bird reduces lateral forces and can more easily balance.

Read more here: http://www.islandpacket.com/2013/11/24/2812602_neither-injured-nor-deformed-why.html?rh=1#storylink=cpy