Bird Photography Weekly #122

One bird that can almost always be found around the Houston area is the proud Mockingbird, the state bird of Texas. Mockingbirds inhabit parks, suburban neighborhoods, and can even be found around downtown — anywhere that has trees or even shrubs, you can probably hear a mockingbird singing its pilfered songs. We even have one that serenades us year round from the trees in the parking lot of our office building.


Northern Mockingbird (Mimus polyglottos)
Mockingbirds reportedly form enduring and faithful partnerships with a single mate and are known to defend their nests and their young with surprising vigor, chasing away cats, dogs, hawks and other larger birds, and even humans who wander a little too close for comfort.


Each mockingbird seems to have a different repertoire, as they learn and mimic the songs of other birds they encounter or that live around them. And as they continue to learn new songs throughout their life, some individuals may have dozens of calls to choose from. Mockingbirds' mimicries are often almost indistinguishable from the original. But if you hear a certain bird song three or more times in quick repetition and then a totally different sound repeated from the same spot, you can be pretty sure you are listening to a mockingbird's medley.



As always, you can click on any image to see a larger version. Also, check out Bird Photography Weekly #122 for more great bird photos from around the world.

Quintana Concluded

Besides the enthralling hummingbirds and abundance of wildflowers featured in my two previous posts, there were plenty of other wonders to enjoy at the Quintana Neotropical Bird Sanctuary.


Northern Cardinal (Cardinalis cardinalis)
There were cardinals and mockingbirds, ever present and always enjoyable.


Northern Mockingbird (Mimus polyglottos)
There was a surprising number of Scissor-tailed Flycatchers in and around the area — surprising to me anyway, since I'd never seen them in the area before.


Scissor-tailed Flycatcher (Tyrannus forficatus)
This was my first opportunity to photograph these slender beauties or even to observe them close up, and I was amazed both at how graceful they were in the hard winds blowing in from the gulf and at how quickly they moved in flight. I've decided that I'll need quite a bit more practice and familiarity with these tyrant flycatchers (or a good helping of luck) if I want to capture any shareable pictures of them in flight.

Another treat of the morning's trip was the opportunity to watch five Common Nighthawks wheeling and diving overhead. I climbed to the top of the sanctuary's observation tower and spent a good twenty minutes trailing them as they moved down the island until they finally passed beyond the range of my binoculars. New addition to my life list!


Common Nighthawk (Chordeiles minor)
There were also plenty of dragonflies and butterflies on hand, busily enjoying the bounty of this small paradise.




Giant Swallowtail (Papilio cresphontes)
I ended the day with a quick drive down the road to nearby Bryan Beach, where the tidal pools hiding behind the dunes often attract a variety of shorebirds, herons and such. This particular morning, two lonesome Willets comprised the total count of shorebirds and no waders were in sight, but the sandbars and the far edges of the water were teeming with Laughing Gulls and terns, including Caspians, Royals and even a couple of Sandwich Terns.


Juvenile Laughing Gulls (Larus atricilla)
However, these three young gulls seemed to be the only ones not taking a midday siesta; they were busy cackling and playing in the water like their human counterparts just on the other side of the dunes, enjoying the beautiful weather while the grown-ups lazily soaked up the early summer sun.


"What, you're still here?"

The Magic Shrub

Naturalist Julie Zickefoose recently told about an encounter with migrating warblers and her subsequent rescue mission to Chicago's fabled "Magic Hedge."

Down here in our neck of the woods, we've got our own version of the Magic Hedge. Well, okay, so it's really more of a magic shrub, and it doesn't serve such a grand purpose as Chicago's birding landmark. It sits outside the kids' after school center, bordering a busy parking lot. But around this time every year, I would swear that it really is magic!


(Click any image to enlarge.)
The magic usually begins each day a few hours past lunchtime. Suddenly out of nowhere, the quiet is broken as one or two birds wing over to perch atop the square-trimmed shrubbery. Then the music quickly swells as dozens more appear as if by magic. And for the next several hours, this bush is teeming with hyperactivity.



Birds are whirring overhead almost faster than you can follow, flying from one section of hedge to another. Sometimes whole groups of them alight on top of the bush, alternately twittering to one another and grabbing berries and bugs from the top layer of leaves.


More often than not the visitors are house sparrows, although I have seen several others stop by from time to time. They duck inside the twining branches of the bushes, then seconds later pop out somewhere else altogether.


Some are curious and unafraid, often perching just at the edge of the hedge and peering at the cars and drivers moving about nearby.



Others are more reticent, shyly peeking out from the concealment of the bush's branches and twigs.



Then suddenly one will pipe an alarm, and it is as if some powerful spell had been uttered.


Instantaneously, every diminutive inhabitant of that magical place disappears, and the silence is deafening. A new visitor has arrived to sample the fruits of this enchanted shrub.



Almost as if he realizes the affect his presence has had, the mockingbird quickly grabs a few berries and flies away to enjoy his treat. And within seconds, the magic shrub erupts once again in its raucous chorus of life.

Wile E. Coyote

(With apologies to ol' Carnivorous vulgaris of Loony Tunes fame.)

We were driving back home from lunch last Sunday when we spotted what we first thought to be a stray dog running along beside the road up ahead. As we got closer I slowed, half expecting it to dart across the road in front of us.

When it did turn, though, we got a big surprise. This was not just a stray dog, but a coyote. It took one look at our car and then dashed across the road and into the field beyond. He quickly hid in the knee high grass, with only his head visible as he cautiously watched us slowly pass by.

As soon as we were past, I sped back up and hurried the half mile or so back to the house. While WW and the kids headed inside to clean up and start the afternoon activities, I grabbed my camera and rushed back to the edge of the brush where we last saw him. Unfortunately, other than a few tracks in the mud alongside the bayou, I was unable to find any sign of that wily coyote. He was long gone, likely headed "upstream" in search of better hunting grounds.

Of course, I already had my camera out and had put on a pair of old tennis shoes, so I didn't let the chance go to waste. I got a few decent shots of the only wildlife available: the birds and the bees (plus a butterfly or two).

This Northern Mockingbird was quite interested in my search, but stayed just out of sight of my lens for most of the excursion. We tend to see mockingbirds pretty much year round here along the gulf coast (they are our state bird, you know). But I have yet to get a decent picture of one in flight, showing off that distinctive white wing stripe.


I was surprised at how many pollinators were out and about in the heat of a midsummer Texas afternoon. I found quite a few carpenter bees, among other insects, hovering happily around the flowers that were soaking up the results of our recent rainfalls.

Carpenter bees (Xylocopa virginica, I believe):




I also got close enough to get a few decent shots of this handsome fellow, a Gulf Fritillary.


Although the residential areas around our neighborhood are growing like weeds, there are still quite a few sections of natural growth nearby where we can occasionally spot deer, raccoons, skunks and armadillos — or more often just the tracks and traces (or scents) of them. And we've had a late night visiting possum or two in the back yard. But that coyote was a first for us, and it was an even bigger surprise seeing him on the prowl in broad daylight. I hadn't seen a wild coyote since I was working summers and weekends on the farm back in high school and college. It was exciting to see, and to point it out to the kids, even if I didn't get to capture it on "film."