We hit the road the next morning, eager for our first full day. And once out of the city, all our hearts soared upon witnessing the display of spring flowers in colorful bloom along every mile of open road. For a New Englander, the thought of Texas typically conjures up images of hot, arid rangeland, megafarms, and desert. But this was the Hill Country, a lush, rolling, colorful, breathtaking region. And inches from the roadside were visible, as we sped by, yellow blurs of Garden Coreopsis, turquoise washes of Texas Bluebonnets, and a host of reds, yellows, purples, and oranges.
But foremost on our mind were our first two major target species: the Golden-cheeked Warbler and the Black-capped Vireo. We would be stopping at the Kerr Wildlife Management Area, in the hopes of possibly picking up both species. But before arriving at the main office, we pulled off the road, just to listen and see what might be around. Sometimes the first day of a trip can be almost too tantalizing...you hear snippets of song and you see flashes of birds streaking through the underbrush. What's that? Someone just saw a Scott's Oriole? But I missed it! Hmm? Someone's hearing a Ladder-backed Woodpecker? Where, where? It's flown, you say? Ahh, I missed it again. The first day can often be a whirlwind, as it seems like you're just missing all these new and exciting birds...You are not consoled by the thought that you will undoubtedly see those birds later on. Of course, you eventually do see all those birds, perfectly well, and many times at that...But on the first day, you just can't be sure. So, after we pulled off the road, the whirlwind began. One person sees a Phainopepla, another a Carolina Chickadee, yet another a Summer Tanager. But behind all that chatter and song, there was another bird singing...a Golden-cheeked Warbler, the first adrenaline-inducing bird of the trip! We closed our ranks and waited, but no matter how resolutely and silently we stood by the side of the road, the bird would not approach. And not long after, as we returned to our cars, I held back momentarily, attracted by an odd birdsong emanating from a nearby bush. A few steps more, approaching quietly, and I soon realized it was the target Black-capped Vireo, just a few feet away! A quick call on the radio, and we were all back and standing at attention, but once again, the target eluded us. The vireo slipped away into the nearby brush and disappeared. It was on to the Kerr WMA.
At the main office, Bill learned that the area would be closed today for hunting! Was all hope lost? No, Bill knew of some nearby roads that were not closed off, where we would still be in the proper habitat, and off we went. We pulled down a side road, parked, and at last we were at our first official birding stop. One of the most exciting aspects of birding for me is to visit an entirely new habitat, a new ecosystem. It's thrilling to look around and think, "So this is where a Black-capped Vireo likes to make it's home..." And around me was a landscape unfamiliar in Massachusetts...short to medium Live Oak trees dotting the rocky soil, surrounded by patches of dense, thorny scrub. And wildflowers everywhere. In looking around, it became clear why fire suppression has wreaked havoc with the Black-capped Vireo, just like it has with the Kirtland's Warbler. This was not old-growth, this was early successional, and just the right frequency of wildfires, or controlled burns nowadays, would be needed to maintain this kind of scrubby habitat. Elsewhere, overgrazing was destroying potential Black-capped Vireo land, and cowbird parasitism is always a major threat. But here, all around us now, was a refuge for these endangered birds. This was their oasis. And we were here to see them.
As we walked the road, we began to accustom ourselves to the common birds of the area. Field Sparrows were singing from every nook and cranny. Lark Sparrows fed together in small flocks that would flush from the ground when we walked by. Blue-gray Gnatcatchers wheezed and whined from within every scrubby bush we could find. Ash-throated Flycatchers stopped play with their referee's whistles, and Bewick's Wrens sang like Song Sparrows without being seen. Black-crested Titmice showed off their rebelliously fashionable black tufts. White-eyed Vireos and Yellow-breasted Chats were the most tantalizing, dangling their songs so close, you could reach out and grab them...but one step forward and the birds would retreat, and you were left empty-handed.
At first, this was our company. No vireos in the chorus. We began to spread out, taking careful steps to avoid any of the beautiful wildflowers. Moss Verbena was everpresent:
Click on the pictures to see them as they were meant to be viewed, at full size!
Beautiful Moss Verbena...but it's not native! Drat! Am I still allowed to like it?
It's native to South America...but don't blame the verbena!
Texas Bluebonnets are a Hill Country specialty! They flower in March and April, so we were there at just the right time to enjoy these beauties.
They look so welcoming...but guess what? They're poisonous!
A symbol of the Hill Country in spring.
Ok, and what is this flower below? Barbara, anyone? Leave a comment in the comment field at the end of the post and let me know! I'll be looking for lots more help throughout these posts!
Show off your "flower power" and tell me the name of this interesting wildflower!
(edit: Barbara to the rescue! These are Antelope Horns, a kind of milkweed!)
As beautiful as the flowers were, we were still anxious to find a different denizen...And before long, we heard the song that we had been hoping for: the disconnected, hurried twittering of a Black-capped Vireo! We spent a long while searching for that bird, splitting into groups, keeping in touch over the radio, reconnecting...We were playing hide-and-seek, but our quarry knew the area far better than we did. Different people kept getting incomplete looks, a blur of black and white...We would hear it singing from a large bush, but always from the other side. And as we crept as silently as we could around the perimeter, like magic the vireo would then appear to be singing from the spot we had just left. It was maddening at times. But persistence paid off, and by degrees, each member of our group was rewarded with good looks at the extremely dapper Black-capped Vireo. For my own part, I stood sentry at a promising bush where a vireo had been singing just moments prior. Eventually, he returned, and as I stood motionless, the vireo intermittently alit on a branch unobscured by the foliage, and I was able to sneak these few shots:
How striking his cap! And what a spectacle his spectacles!
Singing away...That's your territory, Mr. Vireo, and you tell 'em!
Remember to click on the picture to see the full-size photo, if you like.
I think he's on to me...
Quizzical
Love that red eye!
We would be returning the next morning, because not everyone got "life looks" at the vireo. Understandably so, as this little guy, the smallest vireo in the U.S., can stay hidden if he wants to. On the way back to cars, I was treated with another look:
At attention
Without question my favorite vireo...that is, until I see the Black-whiskered Vireo, perhaps? It'll be hard to beat this energetic sprite.
Before the day was over, the members of Car 5 and I had one more exciting adventure to enjoy. Some of the other cars split off to explore another area a few miles down the road, while Elissa, Judy, Zack, and I returned to the vireo road to roam around a bit more. As luck would have it, all cars would be rewarded with another target, but in different ways. My group of four was wandering around the beginning of the road, where off to the side stood a patch of forest very different from the surrounding scrubby habitat which the vireos called their home. This stand of forest was tall, dense, and old, made up of mature oaks and junipers. And before long, we heard singing from within those dark woods our second major target: the Golden-cheeked Warbler.
Just like the vireo, the Golden-cheeked Warbler is also rare and endangered, but for different reasons. While the vireo prefers early successional growth, the warbler nests only in mature oak and juniper woods. They strip the bark off of the juniper trees to make their nests. The problem, of course, is that while vireo habitat can be managed with prescribed burns and cowbird traps, old-growth warbler habitat, once destroyed, may never recover. And all of the Golden-cheeked Warblers left in the world nest in the remaining mature oak-juniper woods within the state of Texas. Both the vireo and the warbler are precious summer residents, clinging to what habitat remains available to them.
So any chance to get to observe these little guys in their native habitat is indeed special. And now, this Golden-cheeked Warbler was singing right where he should be, from within these oak and juniper trees next to us. But it was far too dense to enter, at least from where we were presently standing. We began to walk around the perimeter of the woods, and evenetually came to an entryway, a natural opening that led inside. And once in, we had room to maneuver, as it was far more open from within than it had appeared on the outside. It was cool and shady, and we could see the juniper trees all around us that the warblers prized so highly. Our bird was still singing strongly a ways off, but there was nothing impeding our progress, so we walked on, tracking the song as we moved. As luck would have it, the Golden-cheeked Warbler alit on the highest perch he could find and sung his heart out, and Elissa was able to get on him and point us all in the right direction:
What striking plumage!
He sounds very similar to a Black-throated Green Warbler.
No wonder why he's called "Golden-cheeked."
Belt away!
Like the Black-throated Green Warbler, the Golden-cheeked has two main song types, and by the particular song he was singing to us now, it appeared he had established territory and was attempting to attract a female. He may already have succeeded, and could have been singing near his nest. To avoid disturbing him, we turned around and headed out of the woods. We discovered later that the other cars had also found a Golden-cheeked Warbler during their adventures as well. Wonderful when it works that way!
We would be returning to that same spot the next morning, just briefly...But I knew that there was a chance I might not see these birds again on the trip. The Golden-cheeked we might find again at Neal's Lodge in Concan if we were lucky, but the Black-capped Vireo...? I was pretty sure I had enjoyed my last looks at that dapper fellow, and I was satisfied. We wouldn't be travelling through areas where we'd expect to find him again. So, I said good-bye to the vireo, and we headed out. It would likely be another several years before I would stand eye-to-eye with a Black-capped Vireo again. Or so I thought...
Love your photos, Dave.
ReplyDeleteThe round-headed flower is Asclepias asperula, or Antelope Horns,
Thanks, Barbara! I knew I could count on you!
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