High Island, Texas Introductory Tour Apr 13—17, 2007
Posted by Brennan Mulrooney
Brennan Mulrooney
Brennan Mulrooney was born and raised in San Diego, California. Growing up, his heart and mind were captured by the ocean. He split his summer days between helping out behi...Related Trips
The Upper Texas Coast in spring?it’s hard to imagine a more exciting place for a birder. Every year I look forward to the opportunity to return to High Island and the litany of premier birding destinations found along the Upper Coast, and this year did not disappoint. In three-and-a-half days of birding we tallied 25 species of warblers, 27 species of shorebirds, and 204 total species of birds. And this was not birding at break-neck speed; this was an introductory tour. We spent a lot of time talking about the biology of the birds and the habitats in which we found them, as well as the dynamics of migration and how it’s affected by the weather. It seems clear that few places in North America can match the diversity of this area in April.
Whenever you find so many birds in so short a time, it’s easy for the mind to lose focus and for memories to blur into one another, but for me, several moments during this trip remain crystal-clear. The first such moment came soon after arrival at the famed Boy Scout Woods in High Island. Checking the mulberry trees is usually a productive way to spend your time here, and it was especially true on this day. Just as we were gathering inside the gate and getting our entry patches pinned on, our attention was drawn to a fruiting mulberry by the call of a Houston Audubon volunteer, “Painted Bunting just above the roof!” As we all got on the bird, a stunningly beautiful adult male, we quickly realized that the bird wasn’t alone. Also feeding on the red and purple fruits were a parade of other colorful migrants, Orchard and Baltimore orioles, Summer and Scarlet tanagers, Gray Catbirds, and Rose-breasted Grosbeaks. The longer we watched the more we saw; birds were being called out one after the other. Soon the bright lemony hues of a Yellow-breasted Chat had us riveted again, relishing a nice open look at a bird that often hides in the shadows?heard, but not seen.
While the migrant landbirds are always a show-stopper on this tour, they certainly aren’t the only game in town. At one stop on the Bolivar Peninsula we were treated to amazing looks at Clapper Rails as they ran around on the side of the road, in full view, not ten feet from our vans. This went on for probably 10 minutes; we finally had to leave them! But not without good reason, as we knew that here there is always some other spectacular scene right around the corner. Perhaps none is more consistently spectacular than the wading bird rookery at Smith Oaks. Herons and egrets in high breeding condition show off long filamentous breeding plumes and facial skin glowing orange, electric blue, or mint green. The flame birds, Roseate Spoonbills, tending to their nests mere yards away, occasionally stand up to reveal the little pink balls of fluff that are their newly hatched chicks. All this color and life is contrasted by the cold staring eyes of alligators patrolling the waters below, waiting for somebody to make a mistake.
Another attraction of birding this area is that just a short drive inland a whole suite of breeding birds can be seen, including such highly sought species as Prothonotary and Swainson’s warblers. One morning, on a quick check of a nearby bayou, we found a glowing male Prothonotary singing out his song across the swamp, while Acadian Flycatchers and Hooded Warblers sang from the shadows. Then on our last day we headed into the Piney Woods where we had great looks at such breeders as Pine, Prairie, and Yellow-throated warblers, Eastern Bluebird, Barred Owl, and the icing on the cake?a Swainson’s Warbler. This species is one of the hardest North American breeding warblers to add to one’s life list. They have a rather small breeding range, and although they aren’t especially rare within that range, they certainly are difficult to observe. In migration they are practically ghosts, only seldom allowing themselves to be seen. When we heard one singing from a particularly dense patch of wet woods, we knew we were going to have a tough time seeing it. Often in such situations you just get fleeting looks as they fly between hidden song perches, but this time we were amazingly fortunate. We were able to spot it on its perch where it obviously didn’t think we could see it. We sat with scopes on this skulking recluse of a warbler for about five minutes, even getting to watch it belt out its surprisingly loud song several times. What a way to end the trip?a lifer for almost everybody, and a view that will be hard to ever repeat.