Category Archives: Texas

Birding San Antonio’s River Walk? Are You Nuts?

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If you’ve ever visited the downtown River Walk area of San Antonio, you’d be forgiven if you viewed it as less than a premier birding destination. Grackles, starlings, pigeons, and freakazoid hybrid ducks that grew up too close to Chernobyl overrun the place. Still, as a birder, I felt obligated to give it a legitimate chance, so on my work trip last weekend, I determined to explore the River Walk’s distant outposts.

From our recent trips to Texas and Georgia, we are learning just how well Red-shouldered Hawks adapt to an urban lifestyle. A big thank you to my daughter for letting me steal her point-and-shoot camera for the trip!

How many margarita-wielding tourists do you suppose notice this Red-shouldered nest?

Day 1: Even before leaving the main tequila-drenched tourist loop, I caught a surprising shape flashing above the river and landing in a nearby tree. I hurried to the top of a bridge for a closer look and, sure enough, IDed a Red-shouldered Hawk surveying potential prey (tourists?) below. Its mate soon swooped by and I located their nest in a tall palm near the junction of Commerce Street. “Whoa! Good start,” I thought to myself, but more surprises awaited me.

In the nearby Villita market area, I picked up Blue Jays, White-winged Doves, mockingbirds, and an unanticipated Orange-crowned Warbler diving into a drainage grate. Then, joining the main river, I began working my way downstream to meet a trio of Double-crested Cormorants near a small dam. “What the heck are they doing here?” I asked, astonished—but then found seven Neotropic Cormorants nearby! Before hurrying back to my conference, I rounded out my three-mile expedition by picking up Yellow-rumped Warblers, Ruby-crowned Kinglets, Northern Cardinals and my biggest prize of the day, a Lincoln’s Sparrow co-mingling with some House Sparrow hoi polloi.

Even though I saw them on the eBird checklist, the presence of cormorants on the uber-engineered San Antonio River caught me by surprise.

Day 2: After delivering a keynote address at the wonderful TCTELA conference, I had nervous energy to burn so decided to skip lunch and head directly upstream. As on the previous day, the farther I got from downtown, the better the habitat, and the better the birds. I saw some of the same species as the day before, but was delighted to flush six Inca Doves and a Yellow-rumped on the grounds of the San Antonio Museum of Art while two Black Vultures circled overhead.

I hadn’t intended to hike all the way to Brackenridge Park (about three miles each way), but am glad I did. In oaks along the trail, a Rufous Hummingbird landed next to me and I spotted an elusive songbird of some sort moving through the trees. I spent five minutes trying to get a clear view, and then . . . Blue-headed Vireo! Only my second one ever! In the marsh at the south end of Brackenridge, I added a lone Egyptian Goose, an Eastern Phoebe, and a Great Egret to my growing list. Then, I saw a startling splash of red fly to a nearby branch. Vermillion Flycatcher!

Okay, I admit it. When I saw this Egyptian Goose, I at first thought it was a Black-bellied Whistling Duck. In my defense, it was only the second time I’d seen these guys!

The lesson? Once again, that birding never fails to surprise and please, and can turn any trip into an adventure. After returning to the main tourist area, I decided to reward myself for my exploits with cheese enchiladas and a Corona, all the while gazing up at the flights of grackles and starlings above me.

Up next: my report on my first Uber ride and San Antonio’s Botanical Gardens—if Braden doesn’t come up with something even better!

Winter Birding at Brazos

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It was Saturday, November 17 and I have to admit I was feeling a bit down on myself. Before my work trip to Houston, Braden had set a goal for me of 100 species, something I thought I could easily achieve. My visits to Anahuac and Bolivar Flats, however, had left me only at 75 confirmed species—well short of my goal. With only one free half-day left of my trip, I searched the eBird hotspot map and asked myself, “Where could I score big and still get back to my last book signing on time?” My eyes landed on Brazos Bend State Park.

Alligators seem to be the main attractions at Brazos Bend, but the birds are far more interesting!

The official motto of Brazos State Park is “Come for the gators, stay for the birds.” Okay, I’m making that up—but it should be the motto because the birds are far more interesting. On the recommendation of the park attendant, I kicked off my visit with a counterclockwise circumambulation of 40 Acre Lake. The lake surface held far fewer species than I had predicted: coots, Common Gallinules, Pied-billed Grebes, and only two duck species—Blue-winged Teal and Black-bellied Whistling Ducks. Herons, Anhingas, Cormorants, and other water birds abounded, however, and as I walked, I started picking up some prized forest birds as well.

I first saw a Pine Warbler on Braden’s and my Texas trip in January, so seeing one again was like seeing an old friend.

Before my trip, I had hoped to see all three wintering warblers in the area: Yellow-rumped, Pine, and Orange-crowned but had only spotted the Yellow-rumped earlier. Within fifteen minutes, though, I happened upon a great mixed flock where I picked up my missing two warblers—and Golden-crowned Kinglets to boot! A little while later, I saw a pair of Vermillion Flycatchers—my first ever in Texas. It was a good start, but I wanted more!

Vermillion Flycatchers were a real surprise at Brazos, but I guess they shouldn’t have been.

Driving to Elm Lake, I decided to bushwack through some promising forest across from the parking lot. I could hear a variety of birds there, but needed to see them for the IDs. The birds made me work for them! First, I found the noisiest birds—a pair of Carolina Wrens. Then, I happened to see a Blue-gray Gnatcatcher. I could see something else, but dang it, the bird just kept flitting out of my vision. I thrashed through the brush until I finally managed a decent ID shot with my camera. Slather me in BBQ sauce! It was a Lifer: Blue-headed Vireo! I was elated, and minutes later I scored a Year Bird, Yellow-bellied Sapsucker!

I was tickled to ID this Blue-headed Vireo myself. I didn’t even realize it was a Lifer until Braden later pointed it out to me! Number 778!

Afterward, I hiked the two miles around Elm Lake, but except for some impressive gators, it was fairly unproductive. I didn’t mind. I was thrilled with my “birdservations” for the day. Which I’m sure is leaving you all wondering: did I reach my 100-bird goal? Alas, no. Five species short. But I had discovered a wonderful new birding location, a place I was sure to return.

Tangled!

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My last post dealt with my recent experiences observing plovers on Texas’s Bolivar Peninsula, but that same afternoon began a more poignant adventure. Continuing walking west along the beach of the Houston Audubon Society’s Bolivar Flats Shorebird Sanctuary, I approached the shipping channel into Galveston Bay. As I followed the curve of the shore to my right, I spotted an unlikely sight: a lone White Pelican sitting in the mud.

Bolivar Flats, one of Texas’s most important seabird sanctuaries, sits adjacent the busy shipping channel into Galveston Bay.

“Hm, that’s strange,” I thought. “I almost never see White Pelicans sitting alone—or in such vulnerable positions.”

As I drew closer, however, the pelican raised itself to its feet and I saw the problem: its legs were tangled in fishing line.

I was suspicious when I approached this White Pelican just sitting alone on the mud.

My heart sank as I debated what to do. Thanks to TSA security restrictions, I didn’t have a pocket knife on me, not to mention anything to throw over the bird’s head to calm it down. Also, pelicans are BIG. “That thing could seriously injure me if I did the wrong thing,” I thought. Feeling helpless and sad, I finished my walk and returned to the car.

Back at my hotel in Houston, however, I decided to see if there was any help available. Earlier, I had met three young employees of the Houston Audubon Society who lived at High Island. I called HAS and left a detailed message about the pelican’s predicament and location and asked if the High Island crew might go out there to free it.

To my astonishment, I got a prompt email from HAS Development Director Meredith Segal, who told me she had relayed my message to their Coastal Sanctuary Manager, Pete Deichmann, who would try to locate the bird. Having done all I could do, I crossed my fingers and went to bed.

The next day, as I stayed busy with speaking and book signing duties, I received another amazing message from Meredith. It read:

“I wanted to update you on the white pelican saga! Pete, our Conservation Specialist found the pelican and cut off the fishing line. He said there were three hooks stuck in her and she wasn’t able to fly. When he cut the line off of her, she was a bit stunned and didn’t take off. He will check on her again later to see if she is still there or if she was able to take off. She at least has a chance now because of you!”

“Unfortunately, we see it all too often,” HAS’s Pete Deichmann told me after freeing the pelican of fishing line and hooks. “Shorebirds and wading birds are particularly susceptible, not only because of the considerable amount of time spent in or near the water, but also the time spent on the ground walking and foraging it is easy to become entangled by a bird’s nest of fishing line.”

Part of me reacted with relief. My—or, precisely, Houston Audubon’s—efforts had at least freed the bird of its nylon shackles. On the other hand, I also knew that it was entirely possible that the pelican might still die. It simply may have been bound for too long and become too weak to resume hunting and feeding itself.

The episode personalized our planet’s plastic problems. Fishing line is just a small—but important—part of a global pollution crisis for birds and other wildlife. We have flooded the oceans with plastic of all kinds. Even if it doesn’t entangle seabirds, they consume it—often with deadly consequences. To learn more, please check out websites such as that of the Plastic Pollution Coalition. Just as important, take action by supporting groups such as Houston Audubon that are on the front lines of dealing with and raising awareness about this critical issue. I also urge anyone reading this to reduce their use of plastic bags, straws, fishing line, etc… We will not be able to recycle our way out of this crisis, but by reducing our consumption of plastics, we might make headway.

Please share this post 🙂

According to a recent PBS broadcast, humans have created more than 9 billion metric tons of plastic to date. In the U.S., we recycle less than 10% of what we make. The rest ends up in landfills—or beaches such as here on the Bolivar Peninsula.

Turkey Day Texas Adventures Part 1: Pursuing Plovers

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Join Braden and me at our last book signing of the year at The Well-Read Moose in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho this Friday, November 23 at 6 p.m. Also be sure to share this post and subscribe to our blog in the box down on the column to the right. Happy Thanksgiving!

I just returned from speaking on an author panel at the annual convention of the National Council of Teachers of English in Houston, Texas. It was a terrific event, but I confess that I looked forward to Texas birding possibilities even more!

As soon as I picked up my rental car, I headed toward Winnie, Texas, racing the sun so that I could have an hour or so at Anahuac National Wildlife Refuge before bedding down for the night. I arrived a little later than desired, mainly because of a couple of irresistible caracaras and a Scissor-tailed Flycatcher that almost literally flagged me down. Still, I managed thirty minutes driving the Shoveler Pond Loop. I needed at least an hour but managed fun looks at White and White-faced Ibises, Common Gallinules, a Black-bellied Whistling Duck, and a surprise Common Yellowthroat.

Semipalmated Plovers greeted me at Rollover Pass on the Bolivar Peninsula.

The next morning, after a stop at Rollover Pass, I headed to the Houston Audubon Society refuge at the tip of the Bolivar Peninsula. Before the trip, Braden had been drilling me on plovers, and his work paid off. Plovers are well-known for their ability to distract potential predators by faking wing injuries or sitting on “false nests.” Except for the ubiquitous Killdeer, however, they were a group I’d never knuckled down and studied before and I hoped to see all of the Big Five on my list: Black-bellied, Snowy, Wilson’s, Piping, and Semipalmated. At Rollover Pass, I’d found a number of Semipalmated, so that left me only four more at the Bolivar sanctuary.

Unfortunately, the long beach of the sanctuary seemed bereft of the numbers of shorebirds I had hoped for and I struggled to ID many of the birds in their winter plumages. I patiently began picking away at them, though. “That’s a Willet. I know that one. Those are Sanderlings. Hm…is that a Dunlin? I’ll have to ask Braden about that one later.”

Winter-plumage Black-bellied Plovers were one of several shorebirds I at first couldn’t identify. Once I got them, though, I got ’em!

Then . . . jackpot. Suddenly, I was seeing plovers in all directions. The problem? Identifying them! The two kinds around me looked very similar. Both were tiny and had broken breastbands. Individuals of both also had leg bands. Still, one kind was definitely darker than the other and they had distinctly different-colored legs. When I showed my photos to Braden, he affirmed my thoughts: I had seen both Snowy and Piping Plovers. As a bonus, I saw numerous Black-bellied Plovers, too!

I didn’t realize until after my visit that Piping Plovers are an endangered species, with only an estimated 8000 individuals according to BirdLife International.

Four out of five plovers? I’d take it—especially because Piping and Snowy Plovers are both endangered species due to their preference for the same beach habitats that humans enjoy. These little, cool birds definitely made up for the shortage of gulls, whimbrels, jaegers, and other birds I’d also hoped to test myself against.

Even better, my Thanksgiving Texas birding adventures had just begun . . .

This Snowy Plover surprised me as I’d only seen them on the West Coast before. Note the darker facial markings and differently-colored legs than the Piping Plover in the previous photo.

The Rarest Bird in Brownsville

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Plain Chachalacas at Estero Llano Grande SP.

Braden here. During the beginning of February this year, my dad and I had the great opportunity to visit and bird in southern Texas, one of the U.S.A.’s birding meccas. We saw tons of cool birds in South Texas, including sought-after species such as Altamira and Audubon’s Orioles, Green Jays, Buff-bellied Hummingbirds, Plain Chachalacas and more. We also missed quite a few species, including Green Kingfisher, which was a real thorn in our sides. Our rarest bird, however, was a Common Grackle at Estero Llano Grande State Park near McAllen, Texas. Let me explain.

When we first arrived at ELGSP’s visitor center, we ran into a trio of birders talking and watching birds from the center’s deck. The visitor center was quite possibly the best we had run across so far on the trip, with a gift shop, nice bathrooms, and a huge outdoor deck overlooking a lake. On most sides were also fruit or seed feeders, and at any given time one could pick up 20 species by standing in one place and turning in a slow circle.

One of the birders introduced another as the “legendary” Huck Hutchens, who had helped get the state park started in the first place in the early 21st century. He explained that being a resident, while we were marveling at the Great Kiskadees flycatching over the lake, he was here for one reason: to find a Common Grackle. He had just returned from a trip to Virginia where he had seen thousands of grackles, but here they were a rare sighting; their range did not extend past central Texas. Suddenly, as he was using his binoculars to comb through a large flock of Red-winged Blackbirds gorging themselves on seed, he shouted “I’ve got one!” We all found it, a surprisingly bronze animal among the horde of black. It reminded me of something Noah Strycker, holder of the 2016 Global Big Year Record, had said: Birders went to great lengths to find rare vagrants to their region; why not just go where they’re common? This was also one of his reasons for doing a Global Big Year.

The grackle certainly wasn’t the coolest bird we saw on the trip, or even that day, but it was a very interesting one. What made it even better was that we got to share it with other birders who enjoyed it just as much (or possibly more, in Huck’s case) as we did.

This Northern Parula was another species that we “weren’t supposed to see” on the trip.