High Counts and Nighthawk Stroking

Common Nighthawk is so sleepy, it would rather be crushed than have to wake up. Willacy County, Texas.

Well friends, my time in Texas is rapidly drawing to a close. The birds have been good to me, which I attribute to the many blood sacrifices I have made to various birding deities. I still find it a bit odd though, when you get an email from one of the legends of Texas birding, requesting 3 pints of fresh plasma to be shipped to him ASAP.

The theme today? High counts. A couple lifers aside, I've just been setting personal new high counts of a bunch of different species. It feels good...it feels right. However, if you are a Texan birder, this post will probably come off as serious robin-stroking to you.

Such nostrils. The patterning on nightjars amazes me. If you don't like it, you are jaded and should quit birding immediately. Develop a troll-like online personality and haunt every birding listserv, every Facebook group, every birding forum you can, but never look at an actual bird again.

Common Nighthawks are abundant here in the LRGV now. My life is enhanced. My homeland, on the California coast, is despised by nightjars.

Have you ever gotten sick with Dickcissel fever? I highly recommend it. Another common migrant in the valley, it has been a great honor finally getting to know these birds well outside of a vagrant setting. Hidalgo County, Texas.

Fact: Dickcissels love sunflowers.

I wish I could have dropped the ISO on this image some more, but this is one of the mellower shots I got this spring. So pastoral it hurts.

Scissor-tailed Flycatchers have been my constant companions over the past months. I don't feel ashamed to say that they are superior to my usual phoebe companions. Cameron County, TX.

Mmmmmm, salmon flanks.

For about a month, I was treated to Upland Sandpipers almost every day...this is something I was accustomed to my from my time in North Dakota, but to see flocks of them on the regular was something else. I had no idea they could be so abundant. Willacy County, TX.

The vast majority of them were in agricultural areas where no sane person goes birding. This one is in a cotton field.

That's quite the eyering. An homage to Empidonax, perhaps?

Solitary Sandpiper is a truly humble bird, but I am grateful to have a small Tringid to visibly feast upon. Ramsey Nature Park, Harlingen, TX.

There aren't obscene numbers moving through the Valley or anything, but they were pretty regular for a while. Now they are far to the north of us. My time in the Aleutians has prepared me for finding a Wood Sandpiper in the Lower 48 one day, but I'm not so sure about Green Sandpiper.

Yeah, I haven't been posting many "valley specialties". You're probably pretty pissed. Well, there are a lot of Great Kiskadees around these parts. This iconic bird is very adaptable and is not hard to find. It makes me wonder how Social Flycatchers have not shown up here with more regularity...like the kiskadee, there are a shitload of them in northern Mexico and they do well in many different habitats. Ramsey Nature Park.

Ah, a BB&B first. In mid-April, it seemed the world suddenly became alive with bobwhites. While it is known that Northern Bobwhite populations are fairing poorly through much of the U.S., they seem to be pleasantly widespread in the lower valley. I just wish they would sit still for harder crushes. Hidalgo County, TX.

Bronzed Cowbird anyone? There are hella around here now. This bird is superior to its more infamous, Brown-headed Cowbird. Part of that superiority stems from a male's bloated neck. Hidalgo County, TX.

See? It's actually a pretty cool bird. They often become incredibly inflated when there is a female around, and can remain that way for a long time, even in flight, which induces much humor. Willacy County, TX.

Migration At Last

Back on March 24 I saw that first fateful email of the spring...the one that confirms what you have suspected all along...spring had arrived. But it wasn't the usual "FOS" I'm used to, about the first Western Kingbird or Warbling Vireo...no. This is not California. When you read about Blue-winged and Worm-eating Warblers, Wood Thrush, 25+ Hooded Warblers...those are not-fucking-around spring birds.

You see, despite my standing in the birding community (#7), I rarely get much exposure to the epic movements of spring migrants that happens from Texas to Maine. If you want to see a bunch of migrating songbirds in California, you have to go to some bizarre desert shitholes, which is incredibly fun but also incredibly out of the way. You are stoked to see 10 species of warbler, not 20+. And so last weekend I found myself grateful to be living less than an hour from South Padre Island, which is known for it's great migrant traps and legitimate fallout potential. I have never experienced a fallout, and I would be more than willing to do a variety of awful things (most of them felonies and capital crimes) in order to bear witness to such a spectacle.

It turned out I was there on a "slow" day, but I was more than happy.

A few Yellow-throated Warblers were hard to ignore...they have melted my face over and over again for many years now, and this time was no different. I appreciate the epic stance this bird adopted for the photo.

By the end of the day I could no longer deny how crippled I felt by looking at these birds for too long, at dangerously close proximity. But there was another Yellow-throated beast that inflicted much damage...

The first bird I looked at when I got the South Padre Island Convention Center was this Yellow-throated Vireo. It gave me the shakes. 

It's good to see you again, my big-headed friend.

This vireo is superior in appearance to any native Californian vireo. Someone was really phoning it in when those west coast vireos all came into existence. Sure Yellow-throated Vireo seems to have borrowed the exact palate of a bright male Pine Warbler, but it's a winner.

Speaking of vireos that are better-looking than west coast vireos, there was a single White-eyed Vireo at the Convention Center, the only one I saw that day. White-eyed Vireo is by far the most confiding member of it's family that I have ever met, and come in to pishing rapidly and recklessly.

Of course White-eyed Vireo is one of the most common birds one finds in shrubland and forest in this part of the state, but that has not yet diminished my enthusiasm for them. Especially when they choose to sit motionless, on an unobstructed perch, about eight (8) feet away. 

I know what you are thinking. "Seagull Steve...I didn't know that bird photography was so easy." And to that I say, you are correct! Naw just kidding, it's hard as fuck. Here is a failed photo of a Black-and-white Warbler that I actually kind of like.

Luckily not all my Black-and-white Warbler shots from last Saturday were so blurry. This bird is a striking bird. There were a handful of Black-and-whites at the Convention Center and at Sheepshead, but they were so busy foraging nuthatch-style that they would rarely bother looking at you...which is great to see, but not to photograph.

I couldn't believe how many awesome birds were getting in my face...the geri-birding scene there is raging, and this is why.

How could someone not feel moved by such a rear end? Hella intricate and thought-provoking. 

"Every breath you take, every move you make...I'll be watching you." - Scissor-tailed Flycatcher to American Golden-Plover. 

Thankfully, there was much more to see and attempt to crush that day, so expect another South Padre Island post in the near future. Until then, drink whisky and read bird migration forecasts.

The $$$ Bird, Green Pie, A Dripping Warbler

Green Jay. This is a real $$$ bird...this is one of the reasons birders come here to spawn...er, birdwatch. This is why there are so many World Birding Centers. Is there anything quite like a Green Jay? Sabal Palm Sanctuary, Brownsville.

I fear for myself this spring. The birding here can just be so good...how will I settle for anything less? Being based in the Lower Rio Grande Valley (less than an hour to South Padre Island, less than an hour to Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge), I've been exposed to a lot in the past three weeks. Migration is on, without a doubt...the first wave of warblers, flycatchers, raptors and shorebirds has washed over south Texas...I think it's safe to say that this corner of country pops out of the March Doldrums earlier than most places, which is very good for my mental health.

I see these birds on the reg, but have yet to fully come to terms with them. If there was some intermediate looking relative between Green Jay and Blue Jay (Teal Jay? Aquamarine Jay?) it would make sense, but we lack the avian context.

With each passing weekend I've been able to get a better grasp on the birding scene here, which generally involves a lot of time on eBird, Texbirds (although that's more useful for watching birder drama), and checking a couple relevant blogs before heading out and using my #7 powers to lay waste to any birds that have the misfortune of being in the area...never before have they been observed, listened to, and precisely identified with such speed and mastery. Things will never be the same.

There still hasn't been a bird I've felt the urge to chase yet, which I find baffling, but that has not instilled any sense of apathy in me. Spring migration with both trans-gulf and circum-gulf migrants coming through is really motivating to get out and bird with no abandon.

Right. Here are some more recent birds to ponder.

Red-crowned Parrots...another slice of the avian green pie down here. Aside from the local population (and the 100% exotic population in California) Red-crowned Parrot is a declining Mexican endemic, with a small range in the northeastern part of the country. It has been suggested that some of the birds here are Mexican natives (in other words, not escaped caged birds or their progeny), although it is impossible to prove one way or the other. Photographed at Mont Meta Cemetery.



I haven't visited any of the big parrot roosts yet, I just happen to see these things once in a while during normal birding outings. If you are not completely deaf, their raucous calls are hard to ignore if the birds are in the area. If you are completely deaf...then I apologize.

Black-crested Titmouse is one of the least sought-after valley specialties. No one plots a trip here salivating over the thought of point-blank views of BCTI, but that has not prevented me from growing fond of them. They are a common bird in native woodland habitats and often form the backbone of mixed flocks. Photographed at Laguna Atascosa National Wildlife Refuge.

Some people like to think that their puppy is cute, their kitten is adorable, or their baby is to die for. I think we can all agree this titmouse is taking to whole concept of "cute"to a whole new level.

Northern Parula is a common early migrant here, and they provide a much-needed respite from the Yellow-rumped and Orange-crowned Warbler scene. Oh, and if you have ever heard the line "warblers were dripping off the trees", I offer you this photo of a warbler dripping off a tree.

Northern Parulas rank fairly high on the crippling scale. I find the breast pattern mesmerizing (as I find many breast patterns).

Seriously though, this is a nice bird to get to see regularly. I suspect you easterners take them for granted, to your detriment. Photographed at Laguna Atascosa.

White-tipped Doves are pretty common here...this is the best I could do in the crush department so far. They are easy to find at feeding stations but getting them to sit still is rough. I like the purple spectacles these doves use to see through. Photographed at Sabal Palm.

White-tailed Hawks ply the skies here year-round. With their long wings, sharp head pattern, contrasting underwing and short tails, they look like the perfect cross between Short-tailed and Swainson's Hawks. Photographed east of Brownsville, TX.

Eastern Phoebe is not a bird that will leave the observer broken on the ground and twitching once eye contact is made, but people have strong feelings about them. It's an amicable bird. It is a birder's bird, and so it is only natural that I sponsor this practitioner of The Economy of Style. Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge.

Scissor-tailed Flycatcher (one of the world's greatest birds) are saturating the valley right now. It's difficult to not see one once you get out of the city. I have lost track of the number of these I've agonizingly had to drive past when I didn't have a camera or couldn't pull over. If Green Jay is an improbable bird, then Scissor-tailed Flycatcher borders on an impossibility, although sadly I can't back up that statement with the right photo...yet. Photographed west of Laguna Atascosa.

Ospreys, Flycatchers With Forked Tails, and The Manatee Inhales

Good day to you birders. How have you been handling November? Hopefully you are getting sparrowed enough to properly cope with SWAD (Seasonal Warbler Affective Disorder, which seems to only strike birders). Of course, some places are stiill blessed with some warbler diversity, but most of us are drowning in the brown/gray/white sea of Yellow-rumped Warblers that has flooded much of the United States. 

Attempting to escape SWAD, I have been birding a bit locally...my last year bird was a Harris' Sparrow, which I finally nailed on my third attempt...an inspiring Zonotrichia to be sure...photos to follow.

I rewatched The Big Year with Booby Brittany last night, so she could potentially understand my addiction better. Well, as Bostick puts it...its more of a "calling". If you are a birder (or just have the shame of personally knowing one), it's worth watching, although its leaves a lot to be desired. Still waiting, as always, for the Christopher Guest movie.

Right. Here is the last of the Everglades shots.

Florida is blessed with a plethora of Osprey. Flamingo, in Everglades National Park, is a great place to watch them close up.

Ospreys rank in the top 10 species that nonbirders ask me about. This is one of the few relatively noticeable birds someone will notice on a drunken river trip.

Ospreys lack the humungo feet of eagles, but look at the length of those talons! Who knows how many fish have met their fate in the grips of this bird.

Less than a mile outside Everglades National Park, I looked up and saw a couple Scissor-tailed Flycatchers (year bird) perched on the power lines. This is a young bird, lacking the insanely long tail feathers of an adult, but an adrenaline-producing site nonetheless.

Scissor-tailed Flycatcher is a rare but regular visitor (even uncommon?) to south Florida. I also saw one in the Everglades on my previous trip, so it seems to be a good place to find them.

Perched with the Scissor-tails was a Gray Kingbird, which seemed quite late to be remaining in Florida (this was on October 16). Note the deeply-forked tail and excessive drabness. They do have a red crown, but they keep it well-hidden most of the time.

Just the slightest tinge of yellow on the underwing.

I was pretty pleased to run into this bird. I can now claim that I have seen three (3) Gray Kingbirds...this is a great number, because I expected to come back with none at all.

Although the water is murky, manatees are easy to spot at the Flamingo marina. These amazing, incredibly fat creatures are unwary of people here...you can stand right above them on the docks. A tiny calf was among the adults while I was there.

A young Green Heron borrows a pose from the bitterns.

The Everglades are not a "must" for birders (unless you are crazy enough to look for flamingos), but they have many area specialties and are definitely worth checking out.  Hopefully, I will have the sense to go during the dry season next time.