Everglader

Tricolored Herons are one of those birds I never tire of, they are simply too good looking. Check out that glowing purple nape. I'm glad I lifered with this bird at a young age...if I did it now, the shock could be too much for me to take.

After a week of Key West, Booby Brittany and I struck out for Everglades National Park for a change of scenery. As with my last trip there (also in October), the park was mildly to moderately birdy...because of abundant water within the park, concentrations of birds were few and far between. However, I did up pick up a substantial number of year birds, including a number of species I did not expect to get (i.e. Northern Bobwhite, Brown-headed Nuthatch, Barred Owl). Luckily, I did not relive the death march out to Snake Bight to scan for flamingos...if you ever want to experience a place that makes you long for death, you should try that trail out during the wet season. It is Florida's own Trail of Tears...completely brutal.

All photos in this post are from Everglades National Park.

I like how this Great Egret is slightly backlit...it makes that big bill glow like an avian jack-o-lantern, and makes the nape appear deceptively fuzzy.

An adult Green Heron along the Anhinga Trail; this skulker is just as approachable in parts as Florida as its bigger, flashier relatives.

An immature White Ibis. I don't know how Floridians chose Northern Mockingbird as their state bird, I would have gone the ibis route.

White Ibis stretch and shake.

Immature Broad-winged Hawk. Note the stubbier and (ironically?) narrower wings, which help separate it from the very similar immature Red-shouldered Hawk.

There be dragons...everywhere in Florida. This is a Halloween Pennant (Thanks to ABQbirding for the ID). I can see the appeal in getting into dragonfly listing, although I'm still holding off on that.

Ah, the Anhinga (year bird). This is another one of those classic southern species that really seem to liven up any place they occupy. Although superficially designed like a cormorant, they do their best to set themselves apart. On this trip, they were constantly croaking and bellowing from their mangrove perches. 

Female Anhinga. She reminds me of an old homeless lady in this photo for some reason. Look at the length of that neck! 

This stately Little Blue Heron was one of several misidentified birds given on the boat tour that leaves from Flamingo. Aside from bird problems, the dude giving the tour was corny as hell but had a lot of information on the park's recent history and mangrove forests. I also saw hundreds of White-crowned Pigeons from the boat, which left me in a state of shock and awe.

This Cattle Egret had a gimpy (maybe dislocated?) leg. I'm always impressed by handicapped wildlife that manage to beat the odds and keep on living...reminds me of the stubby Snowy Plover I saw earlier this year that had no feet.

Floridian Goodness

Yellow-throated Warblers are flashy birds year-round. Their everlasting luminescence is a optical reprieve from the hordes of homely Palm Warblers that roam the keys. Key West Botanical Gardens, Stock Island, FL.

Boy, I sure saw a lot of birds on my nonbirding vacation. I hope Booby Brittany doesn't read this, I was pretending to be hung over most of the time. I think I managed to go birding every single day we were there, which is not a feat I expected (or thought I wanted to) pull off. It's just so easy though.

One of the benefits of staying on the semi-dilapidated sailboat (Dragonseeker) moored offshore was how quiet it was at night. On at least three nights, we could hear thousands of thrushes, warblers and who knows what else flying over. My moth frothed, my mind reeled. Being a west coast birder I don't really know my flight calls of eastern migrants very well (let alone a lot of their regular calls), so I felt a bit impotent beyond working on my thrush calls (heard lots of Swainson's, Gray-cheeked and Veeries). It was pretty amazing though...those birds had a big flight ahead of them.

I was surprised to keep seeing Clay-colored Sparrows down there, but I guess they aren't that unusual...not something I thought of as a trans-gulf migrant though. Boca Chica Road, Big Coppitt Key, FL.

A lot of my Key birding was done at Zachary Taylor State Park, and I wish I got to spend more time at the botanical gardens and Indigenous Park, which were both very good. Little Hamaca City Park was pretty dull, as was Boca Chica Road on Big Coppitt Key. Of course, I missed the Fork-tailed Flycatcher on Big Pine Key, but at least I didn't drive right by the bird while it was there...

Hope you all had a righteous weekend, full of good birds, safe sex, and responsible drug use.

WHO SAID THAT???? I need to take away The Great Ornithologist Felonious Jive's ability to post on here...great birders always think they're rock stars. - Seagull Steve



Yellow-throated Vireo (year bird). This isn't a great picture but considering the unretouched version is all black and white, it came out out amazingly well. This isn't a bird I've seen too much of, it's been many years since I've laid eyes on one. Zachary Taylor State Park, Key West, FL.

Here's an immature Tricolored Heron (year bird) getting photobombed by a Snowy Egret. I had decent opportunities to see waders in the Keys and the Everglades, but it could have been a lot better...I dipped on Roseate Spoonbill and Limpkin (not a heron, I know), if I'm lucky I'll find them in Costa Rica in a couple months. Photographed at Salt Ponds, Key West, FL.

Eastern Wood-Pewee (year bird) was the most abundant flycatcher. Not much else to say about them, except I enjoyed a few half-heartedly singing on the Dry Tortugas. Key West, FL.

Broad-winged Hawks were present in impressive numbers, and could be seen flying over just about anywhere. Little Hamaca City Park, Key West, FL.

White Ibis (year bird) are pretty tame in many areas. I thought this made for a better picture than one on a lawn or next to a picnic table. Boca Chica Road, Big Coppitt Key, FL.

Reddish Egret. Salt Ponds, Key West, FL.

I think is the best Reddish Egret photo I've taken. Obviously, I need to get back to Florida in spring someday...these subdued basic-plumage birds don't quite cut it.

Graves are very attractive to Green Iguanas. This is an exotic species, basically a pest (being vegetarians, they can't be very good for the native veg left out there), albeit a very amusing one. Key West Cemetery, Key West, FL.

Lots of cool butterflies were out, which I almost entirely failed to photograph. This is a Mangrove Skipper (props to Jason for the ID). Boca Chica Road, Big Coppitt Key, FL.

The Human Birdwatcher Project Presents: Birding By Yourself - A Lonely And Embarrassing Habit.

Ospreys are everywhere in Florida. They are confident birds, and make good eye contact (unlike many birdwatchers).

Back in the fall of 2009, I was working for Bat Conservation International in western Pennsylvania. When that project wrapped up, I thought "Well....I've heard a lot about Florida. It's where people go to die. And there are birds there that I must see. This is the closest I've been there, so....ROAD TRIP."

And so I birded my way down the eastern seaboard, being chased by Nor'easters the entire way down to Georgia. The birding was good when it was not raining (Brown-headed Nuthatches made for good company), but there were times in which I wish I had company...except for that one very embarrassing incident in Virginia City, which I will not divulge the details of.

Since a lot of bird bloggers are posting from Florida these days, and I want to get back there, that's what we will deal with today...but only by taking a serious look at people's social birding habits. That's right...the Human Birdwatcher Project has returned to action.

Florida Scrub-Jay was a lifer. It's all about the endemics. Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge.

In much of the country, a White Ibis is a fantastically rare bird. In Florida, they are parking lot birds.

I go birding by myself a lot. I'll admit it. There are distinct advantages and disadvantages to this. The advantages are this:

1) Complete freedom. You can go wherever you want, whenever you want, and stay as long as you want.

2) Birders, as a rule, generally suffer from various glaring personality flaws. You do not have to worry about getting annoyed with anyone but yourself.

3) It's a lot easier to photograph birds when you are rolling Han Solo.

4) There is a time and place for solitude. For me, that time and place needs to happen relatively often.

Royal Tern. Fort Clinch State Park.

You gotta love the native forest and "prairie". At this spot I found a massive flock of Eastern Bluebird, Pine Warbler, Bachman's Sparrow (!!!) and...

Red-cockaded Woodpecker. Sweet sweet victory. Three Lakes Wildlife Management Area.

Now, there are also some distinct disadvantages:

1) Birdwatching is, intrinsically, an extremely nerdy pastime. This is easier to deal with in large groups, although the effect is usually magnified.

2) Pishing around a bunch of nonbirders makes you very conscious of how ridiculous you must look. If I was a nonbirder watching somebody spitting and sputtering at a large shrub, I would think they were batshit crazy.

3) You often have a lot more motivation to Keep Going to find that good bird if you around other birders.

4) Extra eyes and ears are crucial to finding More Birds. And the more birds, the better. Obvi.

5) You can do a lot of learning and/or teaching about birds with other people with you. Both of these are good things.

6) Birders are huge gossips. You cannot gossip by yourself. Well, you can, but that's usually called "Schizophrenia".

7) Obviously, doing something fun with like-minded people is a big part of what makes human culture tick. We are social creatures. Simple.

This young Bald Eagle was being mobbed by an Osprey in Everglades National Park. An aside: as some of you know, google has now somewhat integrated Picasa, Blogger and Google+ with each other. As a result, for some reason I get a lot of people I don't know commenting on my bird photos. Most of them are from other countries, and they leave pretty hilarious compliments. The comment I received for this photo was "Huauuuuuuuuuu!". I love it.

Florida birding is weird. You have to get used to the fact that there are alligators everywhere. In most places I have lived, there are not giant, dangerous reptiles in every wetland you go to, and so the presence of these ancient beasts is....strange. I liked having them around, but I guess people can get pretty scared by them. I suppose I can understand...

And there you have it. Clearly, birding by yourself excessively could have massive and horrible consequences. A lot of people are into this mode of birding, but now they must ask....at what cost?

Personally, I know a lot of you who bird on the lonesome often. You may even prefer it. This does not mean you are doomed. But I can point to a lot of birders who are known to have almost exclusively birded alone for many years, and these are clearly not the people you want to become.

Caution is warranted.

White Ibis, Great Egret, Roseate Spoonbill and a Willet. Wading birds are one of the things that make Florida famous to birders. With the exception of White-faced Ibis, they have every wading bird you can find in the United States. I am fiending to go back and get some award-winning Roseate Spoonbill and Reddish Egret shots. Someday....even if its by myself.

The People Are Brighter In California

Some White Ibis on their way to a night roost (now, more than ever) on Merrit Island.

Nerds! It's been too long! I just came out from three days of Everglades madness (Evermadness? Madglades?), and am in poor shape, on all fronts.

As far as the title of this post is concerned.....the manager here at this motel in Naples told me about California today. She had the look of someone trying too hard to look young, but was from Europe and sounded distinctly like Borat. "Why do you come to Florida?", she asked. "These people...[sighs disgustedly]..you cannot even talk to the people here. The people are brighter in California. I do not like that governor, but the people.....they seem ok".

Which, among my friends, holds true. They may not be good people in the traditional sense, but I think they posses some intrinsic value. As far as Floridians are concerned, I'm not quite sure yet. Half the people I met in the Madglades were from other continents.

And there was supposed to be more, but crucial phone calls and a Waffle House got in the way. Til next time, kids.....



Now, more than ever, Palm Warblers are psychedelic.



Brown Pelican formations have always impressed me. Now, more than ever.



A young (now, more than ever) Tricolored Heron.



A Royal Tern, aka Death From Above, at Fort Clinch State Park (now more than ever).



More White Ibis hold it down (now, more than ever) at Merrit Island National Wildlife Refuge.

p.s. "Now, more than ever" is the absolute worst catchphrase used in media these days.....I just wanted to demonstrate that fact here.