Author: Richard

Whooping Crane Winter Refuge Threatened

One of our favorite birding spots is the Gulf Coast region of Texas – we have visited there the last two winters. The long drought has not only parched crops and resulted in horrific wildfires, it as also threatened the winter habitat of the endangered Whooping Crane. It’s a classic western water rights fight with big oil on one side and environmentalists on the other.


From the species’ nadir of 16 adults in the early 1940s, the crane flock that annually migrates between Texas and Northwest Canada rebounded to a high of 270 in 2008. Then came the searing drought of last year, and the Guadalupe River that supplies vital freshwater flow to the cranes’ Aransas nesting grounds fell precipitously. With blue crabs and other marsh food in short supply because of high salinity levels, the crane population was weakened by malnutrition. Fifty-seven birds, nearly a quarter of the flock, died in 2008-09, 23 of them in Texas.

Due to Texas’ historic drought, the Guadalupe’s flow is down by more than 60 percent at Victoria, roughly 20 miles upstream from the Aransas National Wildlife Refuge, the cranes’ winter range. In September the refuge’s marshes were three times saltier than normal. The birds migrate from Canada each year to spend the winter feeding on crabs and berries along the Texas coast. The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service counted 571 wild and captive whooping cranes in July 2010. The Aransas group makes up half that number and is the world’s last migrating flock that can sustain itself in the wild. The coastline from just east of the cranes’ refuge to the Louisiana border bristles with the world’s largest concentration of petrochemical and refining complexes, many of which rely on river water.

The Aransas Project, a conservation group, is pointing an accusing legal finger at the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality, which grants permits for commercial usage of river water. The group filed a federal lawsuit earlier this month charging that the agency is violating the federal Endangered Species Act by allowing the diversion of too much water from the Guadalupe and San Antonio rivers that flow into the crane refuge. It seeks an injunction to stop TCEQ from approving water rights permits until a court oversees a habitat conservation plan for the cranes.

An association including owners of five petrochemical plants near the refuge, including Dow, DuPont (DD) and Lyondell Basell (LYB), several power plants, and a nearby steel mill, have sided with TCEQ to defend the allocation system, while some coastal towns and businesses that rely on healthy bays and estuaries support the environmentalists. A TCEQ spokesman disputed the charge, saying the effect of lowered water flows on the crane habitat “is far from certain.”

This is not a simple conflict between birds and big oil. There are residents upstream who need drinking water, and there are fishermen downstream whose livelihoods depend on healthy estuaries. Ecotourism provides an additional economic incentive to maintain the estuaries. The endangered status of the Whooping Cranes may be the legal tool used to save the marshes, but if the suit succeeds, they are unlikely to be the only beneficiaries of a change in water rights.

It’s obvious that the birds and their wetlands food chain depend on fresh water to survive. It would be a tragedy if the effort to save the whooping crane flock dried up along with the life-sustaining flow of Lone Star waterways.

Birding with Joppa Flats Education Center

Today, I took part in one of the Wednesday morning birding events from the Joppa Flats Education Center in Newburyport, MA. There’s a faithful core of birders who have been doing this for years but each week, many others attend from all over the country. Today we had birders from North Carolina and of course, I’m from Vermont. It’s a very welcoming group and the two leaders, Bill Gette, the Center Director, and Dave Weaver, a certified volunteer leader, are excellent. This is the second time I’ve attended a Wednesday session and I’ve also done a Saturday one. If you are in the area, it’s a great opportunity.


Today, we went to the Parker River National Wildlife Reserve and in a caravan of vans, stopped numerous times to look at shorebirds and waterfowl. There were some good birds — we saw about 40 species, and for me, a couple (Eurasion Wigeon and Hudsonian Godwit) were life birds.


Something spooked these widgeons


Several things impress me about these ventures: the level of expertise among the participants is higher than I’m used to, the leaders work very hard to make sure everyone sees the bird, and the teaching is ongoing and very appropriate. Such things as “Notice how nervous those wigeons are — no one is feeding, there all acting tense. Something’s bothering them.” And just then, the whole flock scatters — probably spooked by a skulking raptor. It’s the kind of behavioral knowledge that makes birding much more than “Oh, there’s a Yellow Warbler.”

I try to plan our visits to Massachusetts to coincide with a birding session. If you haven’t taken part, I strongly recommend it.

Traveling to Mosquitoville

The trip down our driveway (see last post) without swaybars as uneventful and the Airstream’s back bumper did not dig into the road and the bottom dip as it usually does (thanks for the tip, brother Barry).  We navigated through busy downtown Montpelier at noontime and soon were laboring up the long hill on I-89.  Always forget how tough that is to climb with a trailer in tow.

The trip down was rather easy, with a little construction here and there and moderate traffic.  We stopped for a Subway sandwich at a mini-mart in Warner, NH where we often pause enroute.  Of course, with the trailer behind, it’s a challenge to find parking.  I pulled up in front on the highway, right next to a “no parking” sign, and jogged in to order a sandwich, leaving Mary and the dog in the truck.  Just as I entered, I noticed a police car sitting there.  The officer was in side chatting and I said, “I just did a quick illegal park out there – but my wife’s in the truck and I’m just grabbing a sandwich.”  He deadpanned, “Well, I guess I’ll have to write you a quick ticket!”  Then with a grin said, “You’re all right there.”  He had me for just a minute.

We found a shaded spot to eat, sneaking into the Airstream so the dog didn’t hound us for food.  She ended up with some tasty leftovers and we were on the way.

Penny’s not completely convinced that this will be a good stay.

The driveway into Jennifer’s is a challenge — just a back-in off a rather busy road and the driveway is winding.  I had been game-planning it for the last part of the trip and with Mary’s help, we did fine.  However, like Vermont, this area is experiencing a major outbreak of mosquitoes spawned by all the excess water from Hurricane Irene.  They were all over Mary in a flash, and we put on bug dope a little late.  We did get leveled off in our rustic parking space and look forward to a good stay here.

Sounds of Fall

Just as the morning fog lifted, I headed out of the house into the woods on my first dog walk and no sooner had I got started, when the “Peabody, Peabody, Peabody” call of a White-throated Sparrow, rang out through the pines.  Ah, what a great song to start the day.

We’ve been seeing more of these — they seem to migrate a little later than the warblers — and while they don’t sing as much as in springtime, they do chip and “zeet” a lot as they move around in small groups.  I like them also because unlike warblers, who often are high in the trees flitting here and there, sparrows tend to stay low and even perch for a good look and photo.

Their song piercing through the morning air, is evocative.  It reminds me of campfires, of hiking or paddling in remote areas, of the solitude of forests.  We’ll have a few hanging around here this winter but most will head further south.

Speaking of which — as I moved along our trail, I heard a goose call high above.  Shortly, I spotted an echelon of Canada Geese — about 70 of them — heading southwest.  Every so often, one would call — sort of to keep cadence.  They were moving fast – and have a long day ahead of them.

So, while the leaves are turning and dropping, the sounds of migrant birds accompanies the beautiful scenery.  Vermont is open for foliage season — come on up.

Getting Ready

The grass is growing up between the wheels of the Airstream and there are cobwebs under the back bumper.  The trailer has sat in the yard for a couple of months, surviving Hurricane Irene, and now we’re ready to take it down to Massachusetts for a week of family visiting.  We’ll boondock in the woods outside our daughter’s house so the battery, which is been slowly draining from phantom loads, is plugged into house current.  I’ve got the extra battery charging as well.

We want to get the refrigerator ready — it’s been sitting with the doors open — and it’s always a hassle to purge the lines enough to get it to light on the gas system.  I run the gas stove, then light off the water heater, and after many tries, get the refrigerator going.

One of our problems has been getting out of our steep driveway without pulling off the back bumper.  I’m going to try something my brother mentioned and not hitch up the sway bars, thus leaving the trailer rear a little higher, until we have negotiated the bottom of the driveway.  We’ll see.

The foliage in Vermont is turning color around here and the area is full of tour buses and tourists.  We’ll get out of their way and be back in a week and it will probably be at peak then.

Life Bird #300 — Swainson’s Thrush

Swainson’s Thrush  (photo credit below)

For the last several weeks, I’ve had sort of a running joke with Chip, the director of the North Branch Nature Center, about the birds he sees while scouting and reports — that we don’t see during the next day’s bird walk.  First it was a Black-billed Cuckoo, then a Yellow-breasted Flycatcher, and then a Swainson’s Thrush.  He knows that I’m kidding but it was neat yesterday, when we saw the Swainson’s Thrush.

It’s been warm and muggy in Vermont and the mosquitos were fierce during yesterday’s walk — even after we doused ourselves with industrial-strength repellant.  There were a lot of birds around and we saw a few Lincoln’s Sparrows and Indigo Buntings to start things off.  Down by the river, there was an influx of sparrows and warblers including a Northern Parula, a Nashville, and a number of Black-throated Greens.

After an hour or so, we backtracked to the community garden where we first had seen a number of sparrows.  But leader Chip wanted to take one more look along the path and as he forged ahead, a couple of us saw a bird on a branch at eye level.  “It’s a thrush of some kind,” I said as we quietly called for Chip.  He immediately called a Swainson’s pointing out the prominent eye ring and the buffy area on the head.  I think I would have figured it was a Hermit Thrush but now, having seen one up close (it was very accomodating), I think I’d recognize the next one I encounter — if I do.  It was a great bird for the 300th on my list.

photo by defaulder

Not Just Chickadees

The dog wants a walk (what’s new?) and it’s a humid fall Vermont afternoon so why not — perhaps we’ll see some birds in our woods.  So off we go, the Vizsla running here and there as I look and listen for birds.  The trees are still foliage-laden although the soft maples are starting to turn color and drop a leaf now and then.  The falling leaves catch your eye like a moving bird would.

A Yellow-rumped Warbler in today’s poor lighting

A quarter-mile down the trail, I hear a bunch of chickadees calling.  They are almost impossible to see high in the leaves with a grey sky above — but there’s more than Chickadees there — I just saw a flash of yellow — yes, there’s a warbler with yellow on the back — and there he goes.  Not sure what that was.  Another Chickadee, then … hey, that’s a Golden-crowned Kinglet.  More cooperative, it stays around for a good look.  There’s a brownish bird, hard to see other than as a silhouette.  Wait, a flash of yellow — it’s a “butter butt” — a Yellow-rumped Warbler.  But the birds are all moving — high in the trees — and soon the woods are quiet — the whole gang has moved on.  The dog, who’s hung around waiting, gives me one of these, “Can we get moving, Dad?” looks.

I am reminded of a discussion we had on a recent North Branch Nature Center bird walk — where I posed the question about seeing other birds mixed in with Chickadees.  We wondered whether migrants “go to school” on local birds, like the Chickadees, since the residents know the territory food-wise.  It sounded like a decent theory and this little flurry of activity seemed to support it.

We worked our way around our loops in our woods, spotting a couple of Hermit Thrushes and a few other local birds but as we returned to the house, I again heard a bunch of Chickadees, this time high up in the red pines.  It was neck-craning time, with birds directly overhead, moving every which way.  Some were fly-catching: I saw both Yellow-rumps and some sort of flycatcher.  It was tough — terrible light, glasses fogging due to the humidity, birds way up high but it was fun.  It was also 100 yards from home.

Fall migration is not easy — birds are not singing, their color is pretty drab, and the trees still have too much foliage.  Yet, I’m going to continue to listen to my black and white feathered friends because often, it’s not just Chickadees in that tree.

I Brake for Birds

Hey, I dove for that fish as well

After a nice two hours of birding at North Branch Nature Center with a nice selection of warblers and the usual suspects, and intermittent showers, I drove downtown to get the paper.  There’s a small stretch of the North Branch of the Winooski right in Montpelier that I normally eyeball as I drive by.  There’s a little pocket park and once in a while, something is on the water.
Today I was driving with the windows up and heater going to thaw out a bit and thought, as I passed, that something was moving on the creek.  I slammed on the brakes (no one fortunately was behind – it is a major highway out of the city) and backed up 100 yards and quietly got out and peered through the roadside bushes.

Six Common Mergansers were cruising across the small stream, and making lots of splashing as they dove and fished.  I hustled back to the car and got my camera and caught them fishing and cruising.  Cars were streaming by on busy Elm Street but they were not bothered and I watched them motor back and forth, preening, stretching, and just screwing around.  It was one of those instant birding situations that makes you glad you have binoculars and camera at the ready — but also makes me wonder how many such opportunities I miss by keeping my eyes on the road.  Well, most of the time.  A pilot needs to maintain a good scan pattern.

Texas Century Club

Last winter, while on a bird walk in Falcon State Park in Texas, I met a guy who was participating in the Texas Century Club, where birders try to identify 100 birds in 100 Texas counties.  He was well underway, having done it for several years, and had a long “tick list” of species he was looking for.  The park sits astraddle two counties, Starr and Zapata, and at one point on the walk, we saw a bird he needed for one county, but not the other — and we were just inside the wrong county.  Lots of comments about flushing it and herding it a few hundred yards to the north.

Later that day, I ran into him again at a farm pond where waterfowl congregate and we talked more about the club.  Like any competition, there are serious competitors and other who just do it when they are birding — he struck me as kind of in the middle.  It was an interesting look into a group about which I knew nothing.

Texas is big (254 counties) and most birders probably spend the majority of their time in less than 20 Texas counties. This is just under 8% of Texas counties! It also has lots of birds — one lister has 401 species seen in El Paso county alone. 

The Texas Century Club is a challenge established in 2003 by the Texas Ornithological Society to encourage its members to record 100 species of birds in 100 Texas counties.  The idea is to get birders to record the birds in more than the traditional hot spots. To “bird your own patch.”  To explore the road less traveled.  So far, one birder, Anthony Hewetson of Lubbock has logged 100 birds in 100 counties.

There are several levels of award; 5, 10, 25, 50 and 75 counties before you reach the ultimate goal of 100 species in 100 counties. The five county award level is open to all birders. The higher levels of awards are open only to Texas Ornithological Society Members.

Do other states have activities like this?  I know that in Vermont, we are competing amongst counties to see which of the 14 counties list the most species in 2011.  Who else has something going like this?

Birding Basics – No. 10: On Buying Binoculars

“It is a monumental decision in the life of any birdwatcher. At stake is nothing less than the pleasure you

Green Jay by Dick Mansfield

get in the company of birds. So here is some wisdom on buying and using binoculars.

First recognize that bigger isn’t always better. Binoculars bear two numbers: 7×35, 8×30 or 10×50, for example. The first is magnification. You’re fine with 7- or 8-power. Sure, a power of 10 makes the tanager appear even larger, but it also magnifies your own trembling (and who doesn’t tremble in the presence of a tanager?). Higher magnification also reduces your field of view – the breadth of habitat you see out there. You spot a bird, lift your binoculars for a look … and find no bird in view. If this is all too familiar, your optics might be too powerful (or your aim needs practice). I bird with a pair of 8x42s….”   (Read whole post by Bryan Pfeiffer)