Thursday, November 22, 2007, 12:25 am
Gulf Coast report and Long-tailed Duck
GREENE CO., MO — Thanks for your well wishes in response to my Gulf Coast target list last weekend. Unfortunately, they weren’t enough to bring success in the venture.
It’s not really fair to complain about a trip that included Long-billed Curlews, Marbled Godwits, avocets, Snowy Plovers, and Roseate Spoonbills, but the fact is, Saturday just wasn’t one of those lucky days. I stared into cattails until I started hallucinating, but we couldn’t even find a Sora, let alone a Virginia Rail. And anis remain a jinx bird for another year.
Thousands of Snow Geese fed in the fields at Anahuac, and we picked out a few Greater White-fronteds too. The tide was way out at Bolivar Flats, so shorebirds were dispersed over vast expanses of sand. The saltmarsh, which should have been crawling with Seaside and sharp-tailed sparrows, was very quiet. Ah well.
The two most interesting sightings, for me, were the Neotropic Cormorants in breeding plumage and three Horned Grebes in flight over the Gulf.
I don’t recall ever seeing a grebe (of any sort) in flight before, but as I scanned the water from Bolivar Flats, I picked up three birds moving low over the water, flashing white secondaries. They didn’t seem right for loons or ducks. They finally landed, and I was able (barely) to get them in the scope. They bobbed in and out of sight on the waves, but as far as I could tell, they showed the black-and-white faces of Horned Grebes. Cool!
So, all of my target birds will have to wait for another day.
I have seen 386 bird species in Texas. Depending on your frame of reference, this may sound pretty good, until I tell you that the current Texas big year record is 522 species. Yeah, 522 species in one year.
Now, if you know me at all, you probably realize that accumulating a huge state list is not of particular interest to me. I am more interested in habitats, biomes, and ecoregions than in arbitrary political borders, but the fact remains that arbitrary political borders do sometimes slice up the world into convenient little chunks. So, it makes sense to look for gaps in my life list, identify species that I should be able to find in my current little chunk of the world, and concentrate on finding those species.
So I’ve made a list of birds I’d like to find in Texas between now and the time I leave the country again in late winter:
- Greater Scaup
- King Rail
- Virginia Rail
- Groove-billed Ani
- Sprague’s Pipit
- Smith’s Longspur
- Chestnut-collared Longspur
You’ve already seen most of those names. I didn’t include species that occur in distant corners of the state (for example, Steller’s Jay and Spotted Owl), because I doubt I’ll be able to travel that far in the next couple of months.
So that was my list as of last week, and of course, the very first new bird I got was one I’d chosen not to put on the list. Sunday, a Long-tailed Duck was reported from Village Creek in Fort Worth. Monday morning, I stopped by on my way up to Missouri, and I found a crowd of other birders already there.
Scanning hundreds of Buffleheads, pintails, and shovelers, I finally found the female Oldsquaw (Can I just say it, please? There, I said it. Oldsquaw.), who was diving frequently and staying under for long periods. Eventually she came up and stayed for awhile, preening and offering nice, if distant looks. Her stubby, “rubber ducky” shape and white face with a dark cap and cheek patch were very striking. Long-tailed Ducks are reported a few times a year across Texas, and I didn’t expect to be in the right place at the right time to see one. But this little gal was sitting pretty. Score!
I didn’t get any pictures because of the distance, but here’s one from another Metroplex birder: female Long-tailed Duck.
So, hurrah for Long-tailed Ducks! I’m a fan. Now, let’s get busy on those other species. Anybody want to join my team? A-pipiting we’ll go!
Wednesday, November 21, 2007, 2:52 pm
Breeding-plumaged Neotropic Cormorants
GREENE CO., MO — Last Saturday, Fjord and I found several Neotropic Cormorants in full breeding plumage at Anahuac NWR, east of Houston. They looked really spiffy (see photo below), and I started wondering what they’re doing with breeding plumes in mid-November. Are they winter breeders, like certain raptors? Or do they acquire their breeding plumage in autumn, like many dabbling ducks? David Sibley’s illustration of breeding plumage is labeled “Apr-May.”
I searched the Texbirds mailing list archive and found scattered references to breeding-plumaged neotrops in October and November, and I found a couple of posts emphasizing that the species breeds (and shows breeding plumage) during the autumn months in southern Texas (for example, this post by John Arvin). However, on the Upper Texas Coast, I have seen neotrops on the nest with nestlings in April and May.
So is the breeding season long and/or staggered on the UTC? Or are the birds we saw post-breeding wanderers from farther south?
Do any of my readers have any information about plumages and breeding cycles of Neotropic Cormorants?
Friday, November 16, 2007, 11:13 pm
Gulf Coast targets
CHANNELVIEW, TEXAS — Yes, I just finished blogging about California birds from a motel east of Houston. Fjord and I are birding the Upper Texas Coast tomorrow, and I have a list of target birds:
- Greater Scaup
- Virginia Rail
- King Rail
- Groove-billed Ani
- Sprague’s Pipit
Wish us luck!
Monday, August 6, 2007, 10:19 pm
Deer fly body count
DUNCANVILLE, TEXAS — In my recent Anahuac trip report, I whined about the deer flies that tormented us. Lest you think I was exaggerating, I present here the cold, hard facts (or, one might say, the dry, crispy facts):
I had a CSI moment this evening (just call me Grissom) and collected the bodies of an incredible 41 deer flies from the inside of my car! A few we had slapped to death. The rest perished as my car sat in the Texas sun and the interior temperature soared. Don’t leave your pets or kids in the car, people. Please. (But deer flies? Oh yes.)
Monday, August 6, 2007, 2:07 am
Rails, gators, and deer flies
DUNCANVILLE, TEXAS — I think I heard a Black Rail. It was early Saturday morning at Anahuac NWR. Fjord had spotted a Rallus rail by the roadside, and we’d stopped to scope it. Seaside Sparrows were abundant and active in the grasses, even perching on the fences in a classic wide-legged stance.
And that’s when I became aware of a call emanating from somewhere out in the marsh. It was faint but distinctive. I think it was a Black Rail. The species has attained such a high level of mystique in my mind that I struggled to believe what I was hearing, thinking there might be some other explanation. Well, is there?
As for the Rallus rail, which stood in the grasses and never moved, we finally decided it was probably a Clapper. It was very pale-breasted, and its bill was not strongly colored. Also, I interpreted the presence of the aforementioned Seaside Sparrows to mean that we were still in salty habitat.
I was disappointed to (again) miss King Rails in the freshwater marshes. We also missed Soras today, but we did see two other members of the rail family.
Purple Gallinules (Porphyrio martinicus) were bold and abundant on Saturday. We saw numerous spectacular adults, a few drab juveniles, and two tiny black chicks. The juveniles are generally warm brown, but a green cast is visible on their wings in good light, and traces of the adult bill colors and forehead shield can also be detected. They look much more rail-like than the adults do.
Juvenile Common Moorhens (Gallinula chloropus) also fed in the roadside vegetation. Their pale gray plumage makes them easy to distinguish from young Purple Gallinules — their colors are much frostier than the honey-like tones of the gallinules. Note, though, that the young moorhens do show brown tones on their uppersides. We also saw one family of very young chicks (still in the black fluffball stage) feeding with a parent.
Did you know that cormorants can wrap their webbed feet around powerlines? These are Neotropic Cormorants (Phalacrocorax brasilianus).
We came across this Turkey Vulture (Cathartes aura) soaking up the morning sunshine. The air was so humid that my camera lens fogged up every time I stuck it out the car window. I had to pop it out and snap fast before the image got cloudy.
Countless Marsh Wrens sang from the reeds. A few popped up long enough to offer us glimpses. Rain blew in but did not last long.
Wildlife of all sorts was active in the refuge. Here’s a sampling of our non-bird observations:
Never in all my life had I seen so many deer flies! They swarmed us. Literally. It was enough to make us a little insane.
We ended up with dozens of deer flies inside the car. Check out a larger size of this image to see the strange, colorful patterns on the insect’s eye. Also, see the long, tough mouthparts. The insect would like nothing more than to plunge those horrible instruments into your flesh.
Lovely white water lilies (Nymphaea odorata) were in full bloom, their pure white flowers seeming to hover over mucky swamp water.
We were surprised to encounter this family of raccoons (Procyon lotor). The three kits stayed close to their mother, who kept attempting to lead them past us on the boardwalk. We thought they were going to walk right past us, but apparently the mother decided this would be too risky. They moved with a peculiar ambling gate and made soft grunting noises. I’d never had such a close encounter with wild raccoons in daylight.
We saw dragonflies of every color and description. I don’t have any reference materials pertaining to dragonflies and don’t know where to begin on identifying them. But this red specimen was quite striking and didn’t mind posing for a photo.




David J. Ringer

