Reporting from the Coast

How about a nice, long walk?  I find that strolling up and down a stretch of seashore helps me to decompress.  Any time of the year can be good, but springtime is surely one of the most interesting seasons for avian life—especially on the Mississippi coast.

It is late afternoon.  A lone Reddish Egret stalks fish in the cobalt waters.  Its blue-gray body—with touches of white—and rust-colored head and neck echo the tints of the waves.  Found almost exclusively in coastal regions, this species occurs in a white form as well as the more familiar “reddish” morph.  This individual appears almost stately—perhaps it is wary of beach walkers—but Reddish Egrets are frequently very lively foragers, darting back and forth and flicking their wings outward to startle their prey. 

Reddish Egret

The egret isn’t the only wading bird braving the waves: a trio of Marbled Godwits—migratory transients on the Gulf Coast—also feeds in the surf.  They’ll likely have moved on, northward, in a month or two.

Marbled Godwits

The same cannot be said for the ubiquitous Laughing Gulls.  These coastal residents remain here all year long, and are as opportunistic as they are common.  Many people view Laughing Gulls as nothing more than nuisances, but I think this is an unfair assessment of these long-lived and clever birds.  Like crows, raccoons, and black bears, they have figured out how to exploit human resources, and we hate them for it!  I don’t think the gulls are too concerned about this, however.

Laughing Gulls

The Reddish Egret from earlier paces in front of the group of gulls.  Are the pickings better over this way?  Maybe, maybe not.

Reddish Egret and Laughing Gulls

A Snowy Egret shows up to survey the surf for small fish.  As you can probably tell from the photo, this species is considerably smaller than the Reddish Egret.  Like its larger relative, it often displays a particularly active foraging style, with lots of “dancing” in and out of the waves.  The larger wading birds, such as Great Blue Herons and Great Egrets, tend to be more sedate in their hunting behavior.  This Snowy, however, mostly stands still and makes itself compact, probably as protection from the wind.

Snowy Egret and Laughing Gulls

Farther up the beach, a Ruddy Turnstone turns over … not a stone, but a leaf.  What is it finding in the sand?  Tiny insects?  Possibly so—this is a fairly opportunistic hunter.  Like the Marbled Godwit, it’s a species that breeds farther north.  It will probably migrate soon, but, in the meantime, it frequents the beaches with other migratory shorebirds, flashing its stunning black-and-white wing patterns whenever it flies up the shoreline in search of prey.

Ruddy Turnstone

Tire tracks show where someone has driven an ATV up the beach.  Laughing Gulls, Black Skimmers, and a few Sanderlings congregate just past these markings, while Dunlin rest closer to the dunes.  They remind me of cattle, with their (tucked-in) heads all turned in the same direction. 

Beach birds

Laughing Gulls and Sanderling

Dunlin

A close-up of snoozing Dunlin reveals subtle markings, which would help to camouflage these birds in the sand and mud.

Dunlin markings

Other migratory shorebird species on the beach sands are Black-bellied Plovers and Willets.  The plovers are still mostly in drab winter plumage, but they’re showing signs of molting into breeding plumage, in which they will have black bellies.  The Willets are similarly dull and gray, since they haven’t finished molting into their barred-and-mottled breeding plumage.  Willets are common all over the beaches at this time of year.

Black-bellied Plovers and Sanderlings

Black-bellied Plover and Dunlin

Willets and Laughing Gull

Rounding out the beach bird community are Black Skimmers.  It’s still early enough in the day that these crepuscular birds probably haven't made too many trips away from the shore.  They will head out in larger numbers closer to evening, when they fly low over the water and drag their ultra-long, red-and-black bills along the surface to find fish to snap up.  Right now, resting along the beach, they look a bit odd and awkward, propped up on their stumpy legs and with their colossal bills slanting downward.  At evening, however, their unusual adaptations will serve them well, making them highly efficient hunters.

Black Skimmers, Laughing Gulls, and Dunlin

For a diurnal mammal like me, though, it’s about time to turn in for the night.  Since this is spring, coming back to the beach later will likely mean reporting on a slightly different group of birds—a unique mixture of resident species and transients—as migration continues.