GREENE CO., MO. — The 48th supplement to the AOU’s checklist has been published. You can download the PDF from the AOU’s site. A summary of taxonomic and nomenclatural changes follows:

1. The committee reversed its 1998 decision and moved Cathartidae (New World vultures) out of Ciconiiformes (storks, etc.) back into Falconiformes (hawks and falcons). It appears that evidence for the stork-vulture link was not as strong as the committee originally believed.
2. The Palearctic Bean Goose (Anser fabalis) is split into two species: Taiga Bean-Goose (Anser fabalis) and Tundra Bean-Goose (Anser serrirostris). Apparently, the both species have been recorded in North America, though the committee acknowledges that identifying previous records may be problematic.
3. Cuban Black-Hawk (Buteogallus gundlachii), is given full species status. It was previously considered conspecific with the Common Black-Hawk (Buteogallus anthracinus).
4. Black-and-white Hawk-Eagle is moved out of the monotypic genus Spizastur into Spizaetus, where it is placed immediately after Ornate Hawk-Eagle (Spizaetus ornatus).
5. Yellow-legged Gull (Larus cachinnans) is split into Yellow-legged Gull (Larus michahellis) and Caspian Gull (Larus cachinnans). “Birds in our area were identified (Wilds and Czaplak 1994) as belonging to the michahellis group, which retains the English name Yellow-legged Gull,” writes the committee.
6. The kingfisher genus Ceryle is re-split into genera Ceryle and Megaceryle. North American species affected are the Belted and Ringed kingfishers, which are both placed in Megaceryle.

So no real surprises here. Any thoughts?

DUNCANVILLE, TEXAS — While we’re on the topic of the Texas Gulf Coast, I thought I’d post a few more pictures from the trip Fjord and I did back in April.

DUNCANVILLE, TEXAS — Sure, maybe you’ve heard of owl pellets. But did you know that Long-billed Curlews regurgitate indigestible food bits?

Neither did I….

DUNCANVILLE, TEXAS — Anyone who has watched a flock of gannets soaring over the ocean, and then dropping — speeding out of the sky like thunderbolts from the fist of Zeus, piercing the water with barely a splash — will understand the consternation and sadness I felt to see a young gannet huddled on the beach near Bolivar Flats last Friday.

I wanted to help the bird but didn’t know what to do. Meanwhile, I was fairly certain that gannets aren’t supposed to be in Texas in July, and I wondered how important this observation might be.

As it turns out, a few gannets wash up on the Texas coast every summer. Apparently, some of the younger birds do not go north in the spring. By summer, some of the stragglers begin succumbing to feather mites, scarcity of food, and other stresses.

In fact, the bird Brian and I observed had been found and carried down to the beach by Houston birder Joseph Kennedy. (See his pictures.) It was one of several birds that washed up on shore over the weekend, setting Texbirds abuzz with reports and speculation. This terse report indicates that one bird died and two were taken into rehab. I have not been able to find out whether the Bolivar bird lived or died, but as weak as it appeared to be, I fear the worst.

Shorebirds have begun returning to the coast. Several Long-billed Curlews put on a show, and a solitary Whimbrel picked through the seaweed. I saw two Piping Plovers, both still in breeding plumage.

Royal Terns, Gulf Coast residents, were noisy and abundant. Parents, who have already lost their black crowns, are carrying fish to begging, yellow-billed youngsters. Least Terns are molting out of breeding plumage. A Gull-billed Tern swooped over the salt marsh. Thirty-four Wilson’s Plovers congregated on a sandbar.

I had a brief glimpse of a Northern Harrier in the distance, which really surprised me. Apparently, though, the species breeds occasionally on the coast.

Two Magnificent Frigatebirds soared high — first a white-marked female, then a male.

As exhilarating as the afternoon was, it left me more aware than ever of the gaps (or gaping holes?) in my knowledge. There is so much I’d like to know about the habits, the distributions, the plumages, the voices, the lives of these birds. By spending a few hours a year at Bolivar Flats, I can become acquainted with them. But to really know them? That’s something else altogether.

DUNCANVILLE, TEXAS — Brian, in town for a few weeks before returning to England, wanted to see North American pitcher plants. “Aha!” I thought. “The Big Thicket.” So we went this weekend. I knew the pitcher plants would be easy to find, but I was hoping for some birds for myself: Swainson’s Warblers, Swallow-tailed Kites, and maybe even a Bachman’s Sparrow.

Friday morning, we started early at Birdwatcher’s Trail in the Menard Creek Unit of Big Thicket National Preserve. We had barely opened the car doors before the mosquitoes descended, sending us scrambling for repellent. I quickly decided the trail might be more accurately named “Birdlistener’s Trail.” I heard Summer Tanagers, Acadian Flycatchers, Red-eyed and Yellow-throated vireos, and cardinals, but I saw only the huge spiders who’d spun their webs across the trail. Despite my best efforts to appreciate them, they evoke involuntary revulsion that I can feel in my stomach.

The trail finally descended into water, which isn’t supposed to happen, but everything is at flood stage right now. We turned back, and Brian spotted a young alligator in Menard Creek. I also saw one Prothonotary Warbler.

We continued to Sundew Trail, where we had to wait for morning rains to lighten up. The trail produced few birds, but I did see some rather tatty Pine Warblers and hear a Brown-headed Nuthatch. Brian, however, fared much better with his plants.

Don’t miss the full gallery of Friday’s Big Thicket pictures.

I hadn’t visited Big Thicket National Preserve since April 2004. This weekend’s trip brought back many memories of that wonderful first trip, when I saw carnivorous plants for the first time, and when I waited by the Sabine River, scanning vultures and Broad-winged Hawks, until one, two, three Swallow-tailed Kites materialized in the sky over Louisiana.

On that trip, I heard Hooded Warblers singing nearly everywhere I went, and I even got to see several of them, as I recall. I missed Red-cockaded Woodpecker and Bachman’s Sparrow, but I did finally get those species later in the same season with Jason and Lynn.

Here is a touched-up excerpt from my notes of three years ago:

The small birds — their songs, their battles, and their love-making — they bring a smile to the forest each spring. But the distant, haunted voice of the Barred Owl echoes a story that not even the elf-kissed Wood Thrush could tell. The cowled mystic spoke of things so ancient, so beautiful, that the forest wanted to weep. None remember these things now save the jewelwings, who will flit by the streams and sloughs till the world is unmade.

I made a gallery with more photos from the 2004 Big Thicket trip.