Showing posts with label Neotropic Cormorant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Neotropic Cormorant. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 15, 2018

The Smith Oaks Rookery: Spectacle of Life, Specter of Death


Moving on to the other side of High Island...the other big sanctuary here is Smith Oaks. As a migrant trap, it is better than Boy Scout Woods for many species, but this post is about the awesome, enormous rookery on the east side of the sanctuary. Before visiting the rookery, I lacked a decent photo of a Roseate Spoonbill (how embarrassing)...I no longer have that problem.


The Smith Oaks rookery is sprawling, loud and stinky; a spectacle. I was really impressed with it. The spoonbill show is something else...just look at these things. Why are they the way that they are? We are fortunate to have the world's best spoonbill species here, all of the others are vanilla in comparison.

I think we were too early to see spoonbill chicks, which is too bad. Surely they must look absurd.


It could be sharper, but this crop pleases me to no end for some reason. Makes me think of dinosaurs.


Roseate Spoonbill-Common Gallinule combo. The UTC is a region rich in combos.


Spoonbills are the main attraction, but Great Egrets seemed to be the most abundant species and they are difficult to ignore.


I don't think I've had the chance to sit and watch Great Egret nests close up before....it all felt very National Geographic. Speaking of which...


There are hella alligators at the rookery. This fairly large one slipped into the water and started hunting as we watched.


After some time it reemerged, taking a very direct path towards something...


...which turned out to be a Great Egret chick that had fallen from its nest.





I believe this was the chick's final moment before it went to that great big nest in the sky.


The last crunch.


The gator dispatched the egret chick very quickly and was back in the water in short order. Damn! Was not expecting to watch something like that unfold, let alone capture it all on the crusher. For the egret chick, you might be thinking "life is pain", but if not the for merciful reptile it would have died the slow and brutal death of exposure and starvation. Next time you run across an alligator, thank it for its service.


A couple days later we saw probably the same gator come striding out of the colony with another egret chick, though this time we did not bear witness to the chick's demise. I bet the local alligators hardly eat for much of the year compared to when the rookery is active.


Neotropic Cormorants also breed in large numbers here. In trip bird news, we managed to see all of one Double-crested Cormorant for the whole trip, an immature at this rookery.


These Almost-Geri demanded that Dan stop taking spoonbill photos and take their picture instead. In time, they will expect even more from us Non-Geri. That is the way of things...the way of The Geri.


Though the rookery is incredibly distracting (rightly so), don't forget to keep looking for migrants next to the viewing platforms (tired migrants aren't necessarily put off by throngs of loud Geri and photogs) and along the main rookery path. This glowing Blackburnian Warbler was right next to the observation deck pictured above.

More migrants in the next post!

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Salton Birdscapes


From left to right: Semipalmated Sandpiper, Western Sandpiper, Wilson's Phalarope. The sandpipers would frequently fight over a desired piece of mudflat, while the phalarope would referee.

When discussing birding the Salton Sea with nonlocal birders, a common response is wide eyes, a slack jaw, and incoherent jabber about bird-related jealousy. This routine typically winds up with "I've been meaning to go there for years now" or "I would kill 6 infant children with a hammer for the opportunity to bird the Salton Sea".

The fact is that you don't need to be a high-ranking power-birder, or murderer, to get access to the sea. It's right there, waiting to be birded. But with (generally) retreating water levels and ongoing salinity increases, its unclear how long it will remain the hotspot that it is. What are you waiting for?

Aside from the quality of birds there and high vagrant potential, the sheer numbers of birds there is a spectacle in and of itself, which I guess will serve as a loose theme for today's photos.


American White Pelicans. Lots of them. Photographed at the west end of Bowles Road.

Yellow-footed Gulls and Snowy Egrets. Interestingly, the bird on the right is much smaller-billed in comparison to the others...I'm not sure what to make of that. South end of the Salton Sea.


Tens of thousands of birds. West end of Bowles Road.


Staggering numbers...the mind reels. Bowles Road.


A Stilt Sandpiper shuns its comparatively abundant dowitcher bretheren. The Salton Sea is the best place on the Pacific Flyway (at least, in the Lower 48) to find this species in numbers. Bowles Road.


The sea is saturated with Black-necked Stilts. Wister Unit of Sonny Bono Salton Sea NWR.


American White Pelicans and Snowy Egrets. West end of Young Road.


This is a classic Imperial Valley scene. White-faced Ibis, alfalfa fields, geothermal power plant, bleak martian landscape in the distance.


This Black Tern formation looked like they were trying to tell me something. Stay positive? Photographed from the north end of Garst Road.


Black Terns and assorted shorebirds litter the mudflats. North end of Garst Road.


A big group of Gull-billed Terns. Look carefully and you may be able to pick out some Stilt Sandpipers in with the dowitchers. In fact, you are not allowed to look away from this photo until you do. West end of Bowles Road.


Not a good picture, but the cormorant on the right is a Neotropic Cormorant, one of 2 that I oogled  and ogled that day. This olivaceous shag is a very rare bird in California, but the Imperial Valley is a great place to look for them. South end of the Salton Sea.