A Brown Pelican at Columbus Lake

These days, it’s fortunate for us birders that our hobby can be a mostly solitary pursuit.  It’s also fortunate that group texting and social media make it possible for us to alert one another to unusual bird species occurring locally, so that everyone can have a chance to see rarities without traveling together in large groups.  I am part of one of these birding networks—although I don’t often think of it in that way—in northeast-central Mississippi, and several of the interesting sightings that I had this spring were the result of following up on messages from local birders.  Some of these birders were able to see birds that I reported, as well, so everyone benefited.

One of these sightings was of a Brown Pelican at Columbus Lake on May 4.  After I received messages from friends who had seen this bird, I decided to head over to the lake that afternoon to try my luck at spotting it, too.

I knew that the pelican was rare, of course; Brown Pelicans are coastal birds that are seldom seen very far inland.  They are considered rare but regular vagrants in inland Mississippi.  Interestingly, the individual birds that wander from the coast are usually the immatures and subadults—maybe because they are testing their limits, as young humans tend to do?  It’s a plausible enough theory.  Regardless of their reasons for straying inland, Brown Pelicans tend not to remain there for very long.

Finding an enormous water bird on an open lake doesn’t sound all difficult, maybe, but I didn’t immediately see the rare pelican when I arrived.  I did see a Bald Eagle, an Osprey, and several Great Egrets and Great Blue Herons winging through, though.  A flock of White Ibises flew overhead, and several songbirds—a Brown Thrasher, a Yellow Warbler, an Orchard Oriole, a few Red-winged Blackbirds, etc.—added their music to the ambiance.

After a few minutes of searching, I spotted the Brown Pelican landing on the open water.

I took this photo after the pelican landed.

It was settled there for less than a minute before flying off to a sandbar with over a dozen American White Pelicans.  Although it’s difficult to determine scale from the photos, this bird’s wingspan is over six feet.  It’s a subadult, so its coloration is duller than a fully adult Brown Pelican’s would be.

Up again...

Below this paragraph is a picture showing the Brown Pelican hanging out with a bunch of white pelicans.  Unlike the Brown Pelican, the American White Pelican is a mostly inland species that prefers freshwater and brackish habitats to saltwater ones.  During winter and migration, there are often hundreds of American White Pelicans on large lakes in inland Mississippi.  I suspect that the lone Brown Pelican’s interactions with the American White Pelicans were limited to roosting, since the two species have wildly different foraging behaviors; white pelicans scoop up prey while swimming, while Brown Pelicans usually fly high above the water and dive for their fish.  Really, they’re both impressively adapted to their typical environments.

In this image, the Brown Pelican is about the third pelican from the right.

The Brown Pelican seemed pretty content on the sandbar, and it was getting a little late in the day, so I left the lake.  The pelican left the lake, too—after several days of residence there.  I can’t say exactly where it is now, but I hope it made its way back to the coast.  Maybe it has been observed in passing (as it would be an unsurprising sighting there) by the coastal birders who are busy touching base with each other—at a distance!—with their bird reports. 

Beach Birds

Earlier this month, my family and I spent a few days on Dauphin Island, AL.  Given the current pandemic situation, this is likely to be our last coastal trip in quite a while, so I thought it would be interesting to discuss yet more “tricky birds” that I observed (for more of that series, see here and here) and show some of the other avian life that can be found on the Gulf Coast.

This year’s visit was slightly earlier in the season than the one that we made last year—but only slightly.  Even so, the assortment of gulls, terns, and shorebirds on the public beach was fairly different from last time.  I saw only one Black Skimmer, and no Forster’s Terns at all.  But plovers, particularly Semipalmated and Piping, were abundant.  Small, brown sandpipers were also everywhere.  In the photo below, three species are depicted.  What are they?

The ten or so birds in the foreground (plus the one farthest to the left in the back) are chunky with drab, brownish upperparts, white bellies, grayish legs, and semi-long bills that droop at the tips.  If you remember the previous identification post, you may recall that these are Dunlins.  They spend the winter on the coast before migrating to Alaska and northern Canada for the breeding season.

Resting Dunlin

The remaining seven birds are all plovers, but you’ve probably noticed that two of them have very pale plumage compared to the rest.  The five darker plovers are Semipalmated Plovers, and the two paler ones are Piping Plovers.  You can tell that the Semipalmated Plovers have dark bands of feathers that completely encircle their breasts, while the Piping Plovers have incomplete breast-bands.  Both species have orange legs, unlike the Snowy Plover, which has grayish legs.  Like the Dunlin (but unlike the Snowy Plover), the Semipalmated and Piping Plovers do not remain on the Gulf Coast to breed.

Piping Plover

Even more species of shorebirds were to be found at the tide pools.  While I was walking beside one of these pools, I noticed this group of tiny sandpipers.  The two birds in front were obviously not Dunlins or Sanderlings, since they were much smaller in size and had brighter and more mottled plumage.  

The next photo, showing the beak and legs, makes everything perfectly clear: these birds are Least Sandpipers.  Their moderately short, slightly decurved bills; short, yellow legs; and warm-brown upperparts help to distinguish them from other shorebirds.  As you might guess, they migrate northward at this time of year, as well.

Least Sandpiper

As I’ve mentioned before, even though it can be overwhelming to stumble upon large groups of similar-looking bird species, being patient with yourself and going through a mental checklist of field marks for each bird will enable you to identify most or all of them without too much difficulty.  Don’t give up!

Of course, many of the birds that I saw on this vacation were the farthest thing from “tricky,” at least where identification was concerned.  This American Oystercatcher that I glimpsed through the railing at the Dauphin Island Sea Lab is a shorebird, but its bold black-and-white-and-brown plumage and almost clownish-looking red bill make it unlikely to be confused with any other species!  This particular individual, though, was “tricky” and wary in its behavior, making it difficult for me to get photographs.  Oystercatchers are year-round residents of the Gulf Coast, and they do indeed eat oysters.

American Oystercatcher watching from rock perch...

...and flying over the waves!  Notice its striking wing pattern.

Here are some other interesting but easy-to-ID birds: a Brown Pelican (standing on the rocks on the left), a Snowy Egret, and a Great Blue Heron.  The fog on this day, the 11^th, obscured almost everything past the shoreline.  There are probably many cormorants, gulls, terns, and pelicans on the rocks farther out, but it’s almost impossible to tell.  Despite the visibility issues, there was something intriguing about seeing the beach shrouded in mist like this.

I can’t resist ending on this picture of a slightly miffed-looking Laughing Gull.  If you can, keep watching your local wildlife, and please continue to check for updates to the blog as we all move forward in this weird and stressful time. 

Photo Essay from the Coast

My family and I spent a few days on the Mississippi coast last month, mainly to enjoy the wildlife and scenery.  The cool sand made walking up and down the beach a pleasant experience, although the water was a bit too cold for wading.  The birds, including Great Blue Herons, Laughing Gulls, Forster’s Terns, and sandpipers, never minded this, however.  Credit this to the retia mirabilia (https://www.sciencedirect.com/topics/neuroscience/rete-mirabile) in their feet, which are basically heat exchange systems of blood vessels.

Laughing Gull flying over Great Blue Heron.

Laughing Gulls and Forster's Terns (one of which is clearly visible on the right) congregating.

Even though the temperature was slightly low, there were plenty of reminders that it was indeed mid-March.  Hot-pink azaleas seemed to be one of the most common shrubs (after wax myrtle, yaupon, and privet, I’d say) in both town and rural environments.  The color of the blooms really “popped” against the typical backdrops of sandy soil and live oak leaves.

Azaleas

But we didn’t spend all of our time at the beach; the Pascagoula River Audubon Center provided us with great opportunities for walking and observing coastal plants and animals.  

Spreading leaves of palmettos

Near one of the trails, which was flanked by stands of wax myrtle, yaupon, and palmettos, a fledgling Great Horned Owl peered out from its perch in a tall pine tree.  Like many of the Great Horned Owls on the Gulf Coast, the pair that had produced this young bird had nested on a wooden nesting platform that had originally been made for Ospreys.  I took several photos of the fledgling.

A huge bird, even if not yet fully-grown.

"Who?" -- looking indignant, as owls tend to do.

Look at the finely-barred adult feathers replacing the downy juvenile ones.

Still looks fierce!

I saw one of the adult owls—probably the female, as I was informed by the staff at the center—in another pine around a hundred feet or so from the nest site.  As you can tell from the pictures, adult owls are sleeker—without downy feathers—and have larger ear tufts than the juveniles.

Mama owl quietly keeping watch.

A view of the vegetation and water.

Even though the Great Horned Owls had taken over the nest platform for the time being, there were still plenty of potential nesting sites for the Ospreys in the area.  I saw three of these graceful raptors flying over the river while I was at the Audubon center.  They are quite common in coastal regions, and their high-pitched, piping calls—which seem somewhat incongruous in such large birds—carry well and help me to know that they’re nearby even when I don’t see them.

Osprey in flight.

Circling around!

Ospreys are also sometimes called “sea eagles,” but there are actually Bald Eagles on the coast, as well.  I tried to snap pictures of this adult one as it flew over the Audubon building.  You can see the white head and tail, at least.

Bald Eagle flying over.

Gulf Islands National Seashore was another stopping place.  The coastal scrub and marshes provide habitat for numerous species of wildlife.  I heard Clapper Rails and saw Red-tailed Hawks, Laughing Gulls, Brown Pelicans, Red-winged Blackbirds, Great Blue Herons, Snowy Egrets, and more.  Large alligators prowled close to the shorelines, and cricket frogs called from the marsh grasses.

Saltmarsh

A prowling Great Blue Heron.

An American alligator in the marsh.

The cycle of storms, salt damage, and flooding always leaves its mark on the landscape of the Gulf Coast—it is an essential part of the ecosystem.  Sometimes, however, there are particularly obvious signs of recent disturbance, like this damaged boardwalk. 

Flood damage

The beaches, Pascagoula River Audubon Center, and Gulf Islands National Seashore were some of the places we traveled to during the first full day of vacationing on the coast.  The next day involved more trips to the beach, where I watched Brown Pelicans from a public fishing pier.

Brown Pelicans are commonly seen here.

Coastal regions tend to host a wide variety of birdlife, and not all of the birds seen near the shore will necessarily be seashore specialists like Laughing Gulls and terns.  For example, this Loggerhead Shrike, a species that occurs more generally in fields and other open habitats, had apparently staked out some territory around one of the parking areas near the beach.

Loggerhead Shrike

As I mentioned earlier, the Mississippi coast is home to numerous Ospreys.  They can be heard and seen practically anywhere that there is water, and they are equally adaptable in their nesting habits.  In the photo below, you can see an Osprey nest—with an adult Osprey on it—sitting atop the tower.

Osprey nest

Less adaptable are the Mississippi Sandhill Cranes, a local, nonmigratory, federally endangered subspecies of the common and widespread Sandhill Cranes.  The Mississippi subspecies is restricted to pine savanna environments in the breeding season, and these habitats have been threatened by human development.  Prior to this trip, I had never seen Mississippi Sandhill Cranes, so I tried looking for them at a number of sites.  Finally, my family and I spotted a pair of these secretive birds at—of all places—a landfill!  They departed with loud, guttural, rattling calls.

Mississippi Sandhill Cranes--lifting off at the landfill.

As much as I would have liked to stay longer at the coast, the vacation nevertheless had to come to an end.  The Gulf Coast region has such a diversity of wild creatures and habitats, though, that returning again and again never gets old.