Back to the Gulf

My adventures, and now my studies, have led me back to the Gulf Coast of Mississippi.  I will be spending a good deal of time here, so be ready to see plenty of shorebirds, gulls, and ducks over the coming months.  I have been able to get out on the boat to learn how to drive through the marshes and see some of the local hot spots that require a boat to bird.  I am looking forward to another winter here on the coast for some more of the best birding I've ever done.  The first few weeks reintroduced me to some shorebirds and waterbirds I hadn't seen in a while, but aren't rare in any sense of the word down here on the gulf.  Dunlin, dowitchers, and black skimmers were some of the first with which I was happy to get reacquainted.  Black skimmers are truly strange looking, but amazing to watch as they glide above the water with their mandible skimming through the surface.  When they feel the mandible collide with a fish they dip their head and close their mouth for the capture.

Black Skimmer

Black Skimmer foraging

Dowticher species, most likely Short-billed Dowitcher

Ruddy Turnstone

A line of Laughing Gulls

Juvenile Ring-billed Gull

Forster's Tern

Marbled Godwits at sunset

Lesser Yellowlegs

Willet

Most likely a Short-billed Dowitcher foraging

I have been undergoing boat training in the marshes, which has been a lot of fun.  I feel very fortunate to be spending so much time out on the water and getting to bird along the way.  There have been huge rafts of Redheads and Lesser and Greater Scaup which will move out to sea now that the hunters are giving them reason to be wary of the marshes and shallower shorelines.  Bufflehead, Pied-billed and Horned Grebes are also around in some numbers, flying away from the boat with their stubbly little wings and their desperate looking wing beats.

This past weekend I went birding with the local Audobon chapter and my advisor, Mark, to look for shorebirds along the coast.  Along the way we went through some brackish ponds a little ways in from the shore.  A stop to look at a few ducks and terns on the water resulted in a surprise for me, however.  As I got back into Mark's car and we began driving away, we flushed up a dark little bird from the drainage at the side of the road.  I had a similar situation happen before, so I immediately jumped out of the car and began hoping the bird would stick its head out from the marsh grasses into which it had run.  It was certainly my second sighting of a Black Rail!  I was extremely excited, well, I still am extremely excited, to have had another chance to see such a uncommon and secretive bird.  Although there were no new surprises on the shorebird front on the trip, this Black Rail certainly made the end of my year on the birding front.  

An ending to Maine

Maine, Maine, Maine.  I don't think there is a bad thing about the areas I visited during my time in Maine.  I may have been apprehensive about living out of a tent and trailer at first, but the peninsula won my heart very quickly.  It was great to be able to hear the ocean all the time, especially at night in the tent.  Although it gets old living out of a tent, a rainstorm on the coast in a tent, on occasion, makes it all worth it.  It seemed so strange to have gulls constantly flying over the spit of land that we inhabited as they moved to the water on the other side, but it really helped my gull identification to have such constant flyovers.  There were also lots of raptor flybys with sharp-shinned hawks and merlin actively hunting as the strong ocean breeze blew them along.  The few peregrines that could be seen moving through were really a special treat.  Watching raptor aerobatics on such strong winds and so close was just like being at a hawk watch, though with a view much closer to sea level.  The peninsula is bisected by a length of private property where some amazing folks spend their spring, summer, and fall.  I was lucky enough to meet many people who have loved the point for much of their lives, and who's families have had their houses there for generations.  It was easy to see why they would keep coming back, and work to keep the point as undeveloped and as untouched as possible.  While we were taking down nets, we were given an amazing look at a spruce grouse that walked right up to us without hesitation.  Spruce grouse are notorious for showing no aversions to humans.  I unfortunately left my camera at the trailer, so after freaking out and actually enjoying how close this grouse was to us, I ran as fast as I could back to the trailer.  After riding my bike back down, I had to try to sneak up on the grouse, rather than just watching it walk right up to us.  Sadly, I couldn't get as close as the initial encounter, but I did still manage to get a couple of pictures with one of my shorter lenses.

Spruce Grouse

Spruce Grouse, about an arm's length away

Sadly, this is the last post I'll have about my time in Maine, but it was the best project and place I could have spent my last months before starting graduate school.

Otters in the Ocean

The Schoodic Peninsula contains a part of Acadia National Park that is disconnected from the main portion that is located on Mount Desert Island.  The peninsula is only 45 minutes away, and since we have a receiver tower set up there we frequently pay the park a visit.  The roadways run slowly along the rocky shoreline, providing amazing views of the water, waves, and of course birds.  This visit provided an amazingly unexpected surprise, however!  As we were leaving the park, I spotted some heads on the water.  I immediately yelled out, "Cetaceans! Wait, no! Pinnipeds! Wait. Holy crap, those are otters!," or something along those lines, and certainly with excitement.  I don't remember ever seeing an otter in the wild, let alone a river otter in the ocean.  We ran down to the water on large rocks, and got really close to the otters.  As I followed them along the shoreline, I managed to slip and fall into a tide pool and get soaking wet, but it was worth following the four otters across the water's edge and watching them dive, eat, and play.  The lighting was difficult to get good photos, but I still managed to get a few to share.

 The season is winding down, and we only have one transmitter left to attach.  Sadly, this will mean a swift drop off of photos on the blog.  I'll still be trying to get out and get photos as usual, but birds are much easier to photograph when you can hold them!

Yellow-rumped Warbler

White-crowned Sparrow

Ruby-Crowned Kinglet

Ruby Crown of the Kinglet

Acadia and the Stars

Last week, I took a brief but extremely worthwhile trip into Acadia National Park.  The view from the top of Cadillac Mountain was spectacular, and there were even a few raptors moving along the ridge such as Sharp-shinned Hawks, Northern Harriers, Bald Eagles, and even a Peregrine Falcon.  I may have planned my trip to the park a little early for peak leaf coloration, but the trees that were already in flux highlighted the forest throughout the park.

These  "bubble rocks" at the far end of the lake in the photo above provide the beautiful view seen in the picture below.

 After hiking to the top of the "bubble rock," I ended up joining up with my co-worker Jess to watch the sunset before she reminded me that it was the Night Sky Festival in the park.  The park closed down Cadillac Mountain so that astronomers could set up their expensive telescopes and equipment to share with the public for an amazing event.  There were buses to take us to the top of the mountain where we could mill around among at least 50 telescopes and 70 astronomers, professional and amateur.  Each had their scopes set to some of their favorite formations and stars, all excitedly explaining how many light-years away the cluster, galaxy, or star was away.  It was really interesting to be shown the Andromeda Galaxy, which I learned is barely visible with the naked eye.  The Andromeda Galaxy is our closest neighboring galaxy.  It was a lot of fun to have experienced star gazers sharing their knowledge of the universe and their great equipment.  The park did a great job of setting up rangers who did constellation tours with powerful laser pointers, as well.  It turned out to be a perfectly clear night that illustrated how Acadia could be the only park east of the Mississippi River where the Milky Way Galaxy can be seen clearly (Though I would wager you could see it from within Great Smoky Mountains NP, since I know I have in the summer).  

The receiver tower at sunset, seen every morning on the walk to the banding area.

Red Eft

Porcupines are everywhere on the point.  We can hear them making their whiny calls at night, and frequently cross paths with more than one a day. 

Some kind of fuzzy caterpillar that appear to be similar to the "wooly buggers".  I'm unsure of the species.

 Above and below are a spring peeper that was found in one of our nests the other morning.  The "X" on the back identify this species.

Great-crested Flycatcher

Black-capped Chickadee

 Above and below are a Yellow-billed Cuckoo.

 Above and below are a Savannah Sparrow

 We have also started to help with a Northern Saw-whet Owl banding effort at Petit Manan Point.  The late nights don't exactly line up with our early mornings, but how could you not want to try to see one of these up close?

More of Maine

Hatch year Cedar Waxwing, taking some fresh blackberry

The waxy tips that are the namesake of the waxwings.  This bird had more waxy tips than I had seen before. 

Brown Creeper

The tail of the creeper is similar to that of woodpeckers, they both have strong rachises ideal for climbing up and down trees 

Tail of a Northern Flicker

Northern Flicker of the "yellow shafted" subspecies.  Named for the yellow shafts of the feathers

Bald Eagle eating another raptor.  Look at those talons on the dead bird!

Tide came in, so this was what was left behind.

Yellow-rumped Warbler

Red-shouldered Hawk

Blue-headed Vireo

Swainson's Thrush.  Notice the beautiful buffy eye-ring and edges to the dark breast spotting

Baltimore Oriole

A very handsome Northern Parula

Ovenbird, this ones for you Alicia!

This frog was on our trailer, and I didn't have quite the best lighting.  If someone wants to come up with a species for me, that would be great!

Blackpoll Warbler with a radio tag attached

After some requests, these are some early attempts to share the sunsets.  I'll get some better ones, soon

Golden-crowned Kinglet

The most handsome of sparrows, Lincoln's Sparrow.

The other day, Jenny, Jess, and I went for a short hike on the Hollingsworth trail that is here on Petit Manan NWR.  The trail is a short 1.8 mile loop, but goes through some of my favorite habitat.  There are spruces, cedars, jack pines, and tamarack lining the rocky trail, the tamarack either changed or changing to their beautiful yellow-gold hue.  As often happens on the peninsula, fog rolls in, heavy with water, bringing a beautiful ominous feeling.  We reached the shoreline through the mist to find a calm ocean with the tide seeming to be nearly finished retreating from the land.  There was one semi-palmated plover in the small sand flat where the shoreline was now exposed.  It had one disfigured foot and hobbled slightly, as the foot made the leg seem a bit short.  I've never noticed semi-palm plovers that bob up and down the way this one did as it tried to decide if it was safe to stick so close to us.  Thinking that the cove was the final destination on the trail, we made ready to turn around.  The trail continued along the shore to bring us to a completely rocky cliff side with benches set up to enjoy the view.  The fog may have blocked the view, but its oppressive presence created a feeling and view of its own.  There is something to knowing that the view could go for miles, but the fog is forcing the view to be what is simply nearby.  From the bench overlook, we moved on along the shoreline.  The sand flats we came upon also had large tide pools in adjacent coves where the water reaches at high tide.  As we looked onto the protected and calm waters of the large cove, several ducks became visible through the mist.  Clearly mergansers by their narrow and thin bill, but difficult to discern through the fog, and appeared to be very small.  Without hoods, or even discernible crests, they were likely juveniles.  Though they got fairly close, the light and fog really only allowed them to be silhouettes through our binoculars, with faint hopes of color in the bill, and a clearly light belly.  The size and shape eventually led us to identify them as hooded mergansers.  As we enjoyed the shapes in the mist, a flock of shorebirds flew along in front of us, appearing to be made of semi-palmated plovers and sanderlings, landed a ways down the mudflat.  On the return through the rocks and conifers we went through an amazing cedar stand, floored completely by moss and lichen.  The rocky sections of the trial lined by member of the Vaccinium genus, who's leaves are changing to a deep red with yellow backs.  Between this and the amazing jack pines and spruces within the blueberries and rocks, I couldn't imagine a better place.