The Celebrity Nightjar...The Nemesis Falls...Icterid Growth Hormone

Texas has been good to me so far, despite the internationally-recognized March Doldrums being in effect (I have not chased a single rarity and seen only a handful of spring migrants), entirely too much wind, and long work days that sap all my blog-creating juices. So to keep the cobwebs off BB&B, I offer you a Texas post.

Basically, I'm working a lot, but have time to explore new places, return to spots I haven't birded in years, and point my lens at a lot of things that have not seen my lens before. I have also discovered that although almost all food is cheaper here than in California, whisky is more expensive.

This Common Pauraque at Estero Llano Grande State Park has probably seen more photographers than any other bird, which should not come as a surprise. What a goatsucker! The patterns! The subtlety! I'm pretty sure I first saw pictures of it several years ago. It sits in the same spot every day, just a few feet off a well-used trail. It doesn't give a fuck. Everyone knows about this bird...so by all means marvel at its greatness, but whenever you see a good picture of a pauraque, don't give the photographer any credit whatsoever for finding it, stalking it, etc., because it's probably this bird.

This pauraque isn't quite as popular as popular as the bird(s) at Estero Llano Grande, but I'll take it. Photographed at Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge.

Just down the trail from the pauraque at Estero Llano Grande, I finally met my Nemesis Bird. In case you didn't know, I have horrible luck with owls...until last week my heard-only list for owls was at 4 species (U.S.), which isn't really acceptable when you have no choice but to go around informing people that you are the #7 birder in the nation. Eastern Screech-Owl was not only something I've never been able to see, it's also something I'm 99.9% sure I saw in Wisconsin once but refused to count due to the pathetic quality of the observation. Finally, I can rest easy...until I realize what the next Nemesis is.

From what I gather, Eastern Screech-Owls are fairly common in the Lower Rio Grande Valley and are not particularly difficult to see. This bird also lives on a trail...I wonder how many unwitting birders walk by without noticing.

Black-bellied Whistling-Ducks abound here. They fly over my apartment every night and every morning on their way to and from feeding sites. By day, these are easy to find in large numbers...go to any disgusting body of water and you will see them. You show me a repulsive body of water and I will show you Black-bellied Whistling-Ducks. I've yet to see any Fulvous Whistling-Ducks down here, and I yearn for them...we haven't crossed paths in about 18 years or so. Photographed next to some gross ditch in Harlingen.

The mighty bellow of a Black-bellied Whistling-Duck sounds like an amplified version of a squeaky dog toy. Dixieland Park, Harlingen.

Though they are striking birds, their feet really set them apart from everything else. They are huge, muscular, and undeniably pink. It's not unusual to see them perched on powerlines early in the morning. Photographed over some terrible ditch in Harlingen.

Altamira Oriole, like most of its cousins, is a crippler. Like the species above, this is what draws birders to this strange and otherwise obscure corner of the country. They're not hard to find here in the Lower Rio Grande Valley, especially if there are feeders out. Photographed at Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge.

Altamira Oriole is really burly. Though they are colored like many other orioles, they are built like they are on a strict diet of Icterid Growth Hormone. They have huge feet and a bill that's almost more like a grosbeak than an oriole.

Yellow-crowned Night-Heron. It's nice to be around so many different wading birds again! I must crush them. Estero Llano Grande State Park.

To The Coast: Hwy 34 to Cerro Lodge

After birding Talari Mountain Lodge, we headed toward our next planned destination, El Cerro Lodge near Tarcoles, on the west coast. The drive took us from San Isidro west to Hwy 34, which we took north all the way to Tarcoles. The climate reached new levels of heat and humidity, even though it was the dry season on the Pacific Slope. This was virgin birding territory, and we all ran high fevers...we were sick with birdlust. Of course, it was very difficult to not bird on the way, and we couldn't help but pull over a few times. A random roadside stop to look at some Scissor-tailed Flycatchers south of Manuel San Antonio led to a whole glut of birds, including Mangrove Cuckoos!

Having missed them on previous Florida trips, I was more than happy to get these exceedingly cooperative birds as lifers. Oddly, we were neither next to mangroves or water, although we were probably pretty close to the coast.

While looking at Scissor-tailed Flycatchers and Mangrove Cuckoos, multiple flocks of Crimson-fronted Parakeets noisily cruised by.

While trying (and failing) to take in all the new birds popping up left and right, I saw something that looked vaguely like a blotchy white pigeon flying towards us....of course it wasn't a pigeon, it was a fucking PEARL KITE! It was tiny! And on top of that, it was carrying a Chestnut-sided Warbler that it had just slain!

The kite sat above us for a while, contentedly ripping chunks of feather's out of the warblers neck.

Eventually it took flight, warbler still in talons.

As you can see, the kite isn't much larger than a Tropical Kingbird, and really does look sort of like a pigeon.

After wracking up a bunch of unanticipated lifers, we attempted to do a quick stop at Manuel Antonio National Park...I cannot understate what a huge mistake this was. Talk about a clusterfuck! So many people! So many Europeans! None of us were quite prepared for it.  We did get a few trip birds...the sandy spit behind us in Quepos was covered with Franklin's Gulls, which unexpectedly greatly outnumbered the Laughing Gulls there. Anyways, here is Frank, Stilt, Dipper Dan and Seagull Steve looking rad/shitty.

Under cover of darkness, eventually we left the crowds behind and figured out how to get to Cerro Lodge, where we would be spending the next several nights. Along the entrance road were a number of Parauques.

Our muchacho "Mancho" let us through the security gate and set us up for the night. He was difficult to communicate with, and seemed to mumble a lot...but after a little while lurking in the darkness of the parking lot, he asked if we wanted to see a bujo...and holy shit, what a look! I guess the lodge is well-known for its pair of Black-and-white Owls that seem to have no fear of people whatsoever, thus the brutal crush you see above.

I think its safe to say that whenever you are staying at a birder-friendly lodge in CR, it's worth asking if they have any owls that live on the grounds that are easy to see...I believe Cerro has some confiding Pacific Screech-Owls as well, but we didn't luck out on them, although we later had Ferruginous Pygmy-Owl (from the pool!).

As you can guess, we were pretty stoked to wake up and bird the grounds the next morning. At daybreak I was already lifering new hummingbirds, and it felt great. The fruit feeders next to the veranda had a flock of Fiery-billed Aracaris ravaging shit.

What a crippler.

The birder's guide we were using claimed all of the Melanerpes woodpeckers in the area are hybrids, but I'm not sure if that is entirely substantiated or not...so here is a bird that looks like a Hoffman's Woodpecker but may or may not have some Red-crowned Woodpecker genes (it does look like there is some pink in that nape).

I think I'll leave off here...stay tuned for more from Cerro Lodge and Carara National Park, where the great birds never stop.