April 27, 2020

EXPLORING MY NEW BACKYARD

By Rafael Galvez

View from Rafael's house in Florida © Rafael Galvez

My house in north Florida is connected to preserved lands and trails that run for miles through a diverse range of habitats, from freshwater marshes in a sinkhole valley to mesic hammocks, baygall and cypress swamps, and pine flatwoods. The character of the area remains much like the historic landscape described as the Great Alachua Savanna by William Bartram more than 230 years ago.

During a recent afternoon exploring a flooded trail connected to our property, I came upon an American Alligator resting, blocking the way. I was in no rush, and there was plenty of wildlife nearby to keep me busy, so I decided to wait and see if the gator would move along. A pair of Snail Kites foraged above and Sedge Wrens vocalized below, so half an hour quickly flew by. Suddenly, a wet rumbling revealed two American Bison coming around the bend in my direction. They came to a sudden stop when they found themselves in the same predicament, with an obstruction on the trail. The gator was easily close to 10 feet in length and was not in the least bothered by stares from both sides. I’ve found myself on a trail staring down large wildlife before, and a gator-bison combo was not something I wanted to take on, so I decided to let them sort out the matter, and turned back on my tracks.

American Bison in a predicament © Rafael Galvez

As is the case with many of my tour leader colleagues, this will be the first April that I will spend entirely at home in many years. It is a bittersweet experience. Kirsten and I recently moved from southernmost Florida to the opposite end of the state. I was looking very much forward to my VENT spring tours in the Keys and Everglades. Sadly, this will be my first spring in more than a decade without visiting the Dry Tortugas. The silver lining is that I get a chance to explore my new backyard, which has rendered some fantastic wildlife since we arrived last fall. The property itself is several acres that include parcels of a marsh and karst polje prairie surrounded by an old Sand Live Oak grove and extensive hammocks. As of today, we have tallied more than 20 odonates from the property, a dozen amphibians, and 142 species of yard birds—the most recent being a Wood Thrush singing early this morning from the hammock on the west side!

Some of our favorite yard birds have been American Woodcock, Forster’s Tern, Marsh and Sedge wrens, Virginia and King rails—and all three regional kites: Snail, Mississippi, and Swallow-tailed. Surprises have included a fly-by Common Loon, a flock of a dozen American White Pelicans that stayed a single day, Black Terns, Hooded Mergansers, and a Wilson’s Warbler.

Many winter birds still remain in the area. The Ruby-crowned Kinglets are singing, yet we are 1,100 miles from their nearest nesting sites. Soon they will leave. The Yellow-throated Vireos, Summer Tanagers, and Common Nighthawks are already back! We hope this new season will arrive with many wonderful bird encounters for all our friends and colleagues throughout the world!

Sandhill Crane peeking into Rafael's house © Rafael Galvez

The expansive polje valley that our house is imbedded into is known as Paynes Prairie. Appropriately, the symbol of the area is the Sandhill Crane. On December 27, 2019, I counted 960 cranes at dusk, descending onto our property in deafening flocks. Despite their size, upon landing they disappeared into the marshy prairie. Nearly daily, cranes walk around the house, staring in through the windows. A local pair tries to flush away all the “intruding” cranes, often to little avail.

During the first week of February there was a large exodus of cranes leaving the area. They assembled in large circling flocks throughout the daytime before flying north boisterously. It was then that Kirsten and I discovered that our local pair of cranes was nesting in the farthest marshy reaches of our yard, in an island of desiccated lotus protected by a deep ring of slough.

Among the various predators that would love to raid a crane’s nest, we see Coyotes and Bobcats regularly on the property.

By mid-February, the cranes were keeping a rigorous nesting schedule. The male—which is larger in this species—would forage daily behind our house from late morning to early afternoon. Then he would keep vigil next to the female, at times briefly trading incubation duties with her. The female always seemed to be the one incubating through the night, but was relieved by the male at first light. Conveniently, this particular female has a recognizable wry kink at the tip of the bill. At daybreak, she would rush to forage the same area until late morning while the male incubated, and then the cycle would start again. The cranes stopped this cycle in early March, when two fuzzy chicks hatched, one of them apparently two days before the other. Not a week later we watched a remarkable event, when the cranes swam into the broad slough and were followed across the deep trench by their chicks. They never returned to the nest after that.

 “The Prairie is a solid thing to hold to in a world all broken out with man. There is peace out there, and quiet to hear the rails call, and the cranes bugling in the sky.” Archie Carr, 1964.

Rafael’s bio and upcoming tour schedule

Rafael capturing wildlife through art