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 — 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 — Sunrise on the marsh. Soras whinny. Egrets and pelicans start their day. In a rare patch of trees, Magnolia Warblers and Scarlet Tanagers catch early rays of sun.

There’s something truly awesome about the Gulf Coast of Texas, something that takes hold of your heart and becomes a part of you. Maybe it’s the spectacle; maybe it’s the color. Maybe it’s the drama, or the songs, or the surprises. I think it’s all of these, and something more.

I started Sunday morning at Texas Ornithological Society’s Sabine Woods. It quickly became apparent that I’d missed the really great grounding of migrants by just a couple of days. Despite glowing reports from the previous week, I could find only a handful of neotropicals. As I expected, there was no trace of Erik Breden’s one-day wonder mango species.

Nevertheless, two years is too long to go without seeing gems like Prothonotary Warbler and American Redstart, so I was happy to see those and a few other southern breeders again. I did do well with thrushes, finding several Veeries, a Swainson’s Thrush, and a Wood Thrush.

Mosquitoes were an ever-present nuisance. A long-sleeved shirt would have helped considerably, but I’d forgotten to bring one.

Shortly after 10 a.m., I left Sea Rim to meet Fjord at Anahuac National Wildlife Refuge. The refuge isn’t terribly far from Sea Rim, but Texas 87, the most direct route, has been closed between Sea Rim and High Island for nearly 20 years because it’s washed away by the sea.

Finding not a single warbler in the willows at Anahuac, Fjord and I packed our things into one car and headed south to High Island. Boy Scout Woods was relatively empty of birders — and of birds. With a little work, we picked up Yellow Warblers, Tennessee Warblers, Bay-breasted Warblers, Rose-breasted Grosbeaks, three Black-bellied Whistling Ducks, two Purple Gallinules, and jillions of Gray Catbirds.