Forty Years Ago in the Lower Rio Grande Valley: Day Eleven


Back in late May of 1983, four members of the Lancaster County Bird Club—Russ Markert, Harold Morrrin, Steve Santner, and your editor—embarked on an energetic trip to find, observe, and photograph birds in the Lower Rio Grande Valley of Texas.  What follows is a daily account of that two-week-long expedition.  Notes logged by Markert some four decades ago are quoted in italics.  The images are scans of 35 mm color slide photographs taken along the way by your editor.


DAY ELEVEN—May 31, 1983

“AOK Camp, Texas — 7 Miles S. of Kingsville”

“Went south to the 1st rest stop south of Sarita — No Tropical Parula.  Lots of other birds.  We added Summer Tanager and Lesser Goldfinch.”

The Sarita Rest Area along Route 77 was like a little oasis of taller trees in the Texas scrubland.  We received reports from the birders we met yesterday at Falcon Dam that recently, Tropical Parula had been seen there.  We searched the small area and listened carefully, but to no avail.  For these warblers, nesting season was over.  We were surprised to find Lesser Goldfinches in the trees.  Back in 1983, the coastal plain of Texas was pretty far east for the species.  Steve was a bit skeptical when we first spotted them, but once they came into plain view, he was a believer.  I recall him finally exclaiming, “They are Lesser Goldfinches.”  Summer Tanager was another wonderful surprise.  Today, the Sarita Rest Area remains a stopping point for birders in south Texas.  Both Lesser Goldfinch and Tropical Parula were seen there this spring.

After our roll of dice at the Sarita Rest Area, we continued south through the King Ranch en route back to Brownsville.

“Saw a Coyote on the way.”

Western Coyote
We spotted this Lower Rio Grande Coyote (Canis latrans microdon) near a watering hole on the King Ranch property along Route 77 near Sarita, Texas.  (Vintage 35 mm image)
Scissor-tailed Flycatcher
A Scissor-tailed Flycatcher on a fence along Route 77 at the King Ranch.  (Vintage 35 mm image)

“Took Steve to the airport and drove out to Boca Chica where Harold went swimming.” 

The drive from Brownsville out Boca Chica Boulevard to the Gulf of Mexico passes through about 18 miles of the outermost flats of the river delta that is the Lower Rio Grande Valley.  This area is of course susceptible to the greatest impacts from tropical weather, especially hurricanes.  During our visit, we passed a small cluster of ranch houses about two or three miles from the beach.  This was the village known as Boca Chica.  Otherwise, the area was desolate and left to the impacts of the weather and to the wildlife.

The mouth of the Rio Grande, and thus the international border with Mexico, was and still is about two miles south of Boca Chica Beach.  Before the construction of dams and other flood control measures on the river, the path of the Rio Grande through the alluvium deposits on this outer section of delta would vary greatly.  Accumulations of eroded material, river flooding, tides, and storms would conspire to change the landscape prompting the river to seek the path of least resistance and change its course.  Surrounding the segments of abandoned channel, these changes leave behind valuable wetlands including not only the resacas of the Lower Rio Grande Valley, but similar features in tidal sections of the outer delta.  When left to function in their natural state, deltas manage silt and pollutants in the waters that pass through them using ancient physical, biological, and chemical processes that require no intervention from man.

Harold was determined to go for a swim in the Gulf of Mexico before boarding a flight home.  We all liked the beach.  Why not?  You may remember trips to the shore in the summertime.  Back in the pre-casino days, we used to go to Atlantic City, New Jersey, to visit Steel Pier.  For the first three quarters of the twentieth century, Steel Pier was the Jersey Shore’s amusement park at sea.  There were rides, food stands, arcades, daily concerts with big name acts, diving shows, and ballroom dances.

There were, back then, attractions at Steel Pier that were creatively promoted to give the visitor the impression that they were going to see something more profound or amazing than was was delivered.  You know, things advertised to draw you in, but its not quite what you expected.

For example, there was an arcade game promising to show you a chicken playing baseball.  Okay, I’ll bite.  Turns out the chicken did too.  You put your money in the machine and watched as the chicken came out and rounded the diamond eating poultry food as it was offered at each of the bases.  Hmmm…to suggest that this was a chicken playing baseball seems like a bit of a stretch.

They had a diving bell there too.  Wow!  We’ll go below the waves and view the fish, octopi, and other sights through the water-tight windows while we descend to the ocean floor.  You would pay to get inside, then they would lower the bell down through a hole in the pier.  Once below the rolling surf, you would get to look at the turbid seawater sloshing around at the window like dirty suds in a washing machine.  If you were lucky, some trash might briefly get stuck on the glass.  To imply that this was a chance to see life beneath waves was B. S., and I don’t mean bathysphere.

Then their was a girl riding a diving horse.  You would hike all the way to the end of the pier and watch the preliminary show with these divers plunging through a hole in the deck and into the choppy Atlantic below.  They were very good, but no, we never saw Rodney Dangerfield do a “Triple Lindy” there.  And then it was time for the finale.  Wow, is that horse going to dive in the ocean?  How do they get the horse back up on the pier?  Forget it.  Instead of that, they walked poor Mr. Ed up a ramp into a box, then the girl climbs on his back, the door opens, and she nudges Ol’ Ed to into a plunge followed by a thumping splash into a swimming pool on the deck.  Not bad, but not what we were expecting.  Since we had to walk almost  a quarter of a mile out to sea to get there, they kinda led us to believe that the amazing equine was going to leap into the Atlantic—horse hockey!

Preceding all this fun was a guy back in the early 1930s, William Swan, who, in June 1931, flew a “rocket-powered plane” at Bader Field outside Atlantic City.  The plane was actually a glider on which a rocket was fired producing about 50 pounds of thrust to boost it airborne after assistants got it rolling by pushing it.  In newspaper articles and on newsreels afterward, he would promote the future of rocket planes carrying passengers across the ocean at 500 miles per hour.  Using a glider equipped with pontoons for landing in the ocean, he promised to make several flights daily from Steel Pier.  Those who came to see him may have, at best, watched him fire small rockets he had attached to his craft—little more.

What does all this have to do with Boca Chica Beach?  It turn out two years later, William Swan is hyping a new innovation—a rocket-powered backpack.  He’d demonstrate it during a skydiving exhibition at the Del-Mar Beach Resort, a cluster of 20 cabins and community buildings on Boca Chica Beach.  According to his deceptive promotions, Swan would jump out of a plane and light flares as he fell.  Then he’d ignite the backpack rocket and land on the shoreline in front of the crowd.  The event was expected to draw 3,000 carloads of people.  When the big day came, just over 1,000 cars showed up. The event was a bust and the weather was bad, cloudy with a mist over the gulf.  During a break in the clouds, the pilot took Swan aloft.  Swan ordered him out to sea and to 8,500 feet, a higher altitude than planned.  Then he jumped.  He dropped the flares, which didn’t then ignite, and neither did the rocket.  He opened his chute at 6,000 feet and the crowd watched as Swan drifted into the mist offshore and was never seen again.  There were rumors both that he used the stunt as a way to flee to Mexico to start a new life and that he had committed suicide.  Others believed he died accidentally.  To learn the full story of Billy Swan, check out The Rocketeer Who Never Was, by Mark Wade.

Forward fifty years to our visit to Boca Chica Beach.  The Del-Mar Beach Resort, built in the 1920s as a cluster of 20 cabins and a ballroom, was gone.  It was destroyed by a hurricane later in the same year Swan disappeared—1933.  The resort, which was hoped would be the start of a seaside vacation city, never reopened.  In 1983, we saw just a handful of beach goers and the birds, that’s it.  One could look down to the south and see the area of the Rio Grande’s mouth and Mexico, but there were no structures of note.  It was peaceful and alive with wildlife.  We were sorry we didn’t have more time there.

“Here we added Least Tern, Brown Pelican and Sandwich Tern.”

Laughing Gulls on the sands of Boca Chica beach
Laughing Gulls on the sands of Boca Chica Beach.  (Vintage 35 mm image)
Royal Tern
A Royal Tern (Thalasseus maximus) along the Gulf of Mexico shore at Boca Chica Beach.  (Vintage 35 mm image)
Least Tern
Least Terns are a sand-nesting species, thus are vulnerable to disturbances created by recreational use of beaches.  (Vintage 35 mm image)
Brown Pelicans
Back in 1983, finding Brown Pelicans (Pelicanus occidentalis) wasn’t as easy as it is today.  Back then, their numbers were still recovering from a severe population crash caused by the effects of D.D.T., which thinned eggs shells and precipitated widespread nesting failures.  (Vintage 35 mm image)

Today, the Village of Boca Chica and Boca Chica Beach are the location of SpaceX’s South Texas Launch Facility.  Those of the village’s ranch houses built in 1967 that have survived hurricane devastation over the years have been incorporated into the “Starbase” production and tracking facility.  The launch pad and testing area is along the beach just behind the dunes at the end of Boca Chica Boulevard.

The latest launch, just more than a month ago, was the maiden flight of “Starship”, a 394-foot behemoth that is the largest rocket ever flown.  The “Super Heavy Booster” first stage’s 33 Raptor engines produce 17.1 million pounds of thrust making Starship the most powerful rocket ever flown.  See, things really are bigger in Texas.

Last month’s unmanned orbital test launch ended when the Starship spacecraft failed to separate at staging.  As the booster section commenced its roll manuever to return to the launch pad, the entire assembly began tumbling out of control.  It exploded and rained debris into the gulf along a stretch of the downrange trajectory.

Boca Chica and Starbase
The Village of Boca Chica is now the SpaceX “Starbase” production and tracking complex. The rockets are rolled two miles out Boca Chica Boulevard to the beach-side launch pad.  Areas in dark blue are units in the Lower Rio Grande Valley National Wildlife Refuge.  (United States Fish and Wildlife Service image)

Development of Starbase is opposed by many due to noise, safety, and environmental concerns.  Boca Chica Boulevard (Texas Route 4) is frequently closed due to activity at the launch pad site, thus excluding residents and tourists from visiting the beach.  With over 1,200 people already working at Starbase, demand for housing in the Brownsville area has increased.  Some have accused SpaceX CEO Elon Musk of promoting gentrification of the area—running up housing prices to force out the lower-income residents.  He has responded with a vision of a new city at Boca Chica, his “space port”.

Does history have an applicable lesson for us here?  When Musk talks about going to the Moon and Mars, or ferrying a hundred people around the world on his Starship, is it just another Steel Pier-style deception?  Is Musk a modern-day William Swan?  A very talented marketer?  Could be.  And is the whole thing setting up a large-scale replay of the Del-Mar Beach Resort’s demise in 1933?  Is building a city on the outer edges of a river delta asking for an outcome similar to the one suffered by New Orleans during Hurricane Katrina?  It’s likely.  After all, building on or near a beach, floodplain, or delta is a short-sighted venture to begin with.  If the party doing the developing doesn’t suffer the consequences of defying the laws of nature, one of the poor suckers in the successive line of buyers and occupants will.  This isn’t rocket science folks.  Its weather, climate, and erosion, and its been altering coastlines, river courses, and the composition and distribution of life forms on this planet for millions of years.  And guess what.  These factors will continue to alter Earth for millions of years more after man the meddler is long gone.  You’re not going to stop their effects, and you’re not going to escape their wrath by ignoring them.  So if you’re smart, you’ll get out of their way and stay there!

Billy Swan was probably broke when he came to Boca Chica.  He reportedly borrowed 20 bucks from the resort operator just to cover his personal expenses during his backpack rocket event.  Elon Musk comes to Boca Chica with over 100 billion dollars and capital from other private investors to boot.   Despite some obvious exaggerations about colonizing the Moon, Mars, and other celestial bodies, he just might be able to at least get people there for short-term visits.  And that’s quite an accomplishment.

Jezero Crater on the surface of Mars.  Ravaging and overpopulating the Earth with an eye on migrations to the Moon and Mars for refuge is silliness.  I don’t know about you, but I’d rather spend time at a pristine beach like Boca Chica than time at this rocky hole.  These desolate orbs might be nice places to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there, and neither would you.  (NASA Jet Propulsion Laboratory image)

“Then took Harold to the airport.  We left him at 3:30 and headed north on Route 77, got as far as Victoria.  Had a flat on the way.  Larry had the spare on in 10 minutes.  We stopped at a picnic area for the nite, because we could not find the camping area.”

If we were going to have a flat, we had it at the right place.  We were just outside Raymondville, Texas, at a newly constructed highway interchange.  The wide, level shoulder allowed us to get the camper off to the side of the road in a safe place to jack it up and change the tire.  Easy.  We were thereafter homeward bound.

Forty Years Ago in the Lower Rio Grande Valley: Day Ten


Back in late May of 1983, four members of the Lancaster County Bird Club—Russ Markert, Harold Morrrin, Steve Santner, and your editor—embarked on an energetic trip to find, observe, and photograph birds in the Lower Rio Grande Valley of Texas.  What follows is a daily account of that two-week-long expedition.  Notes logged by Markert some four decades ago are quoted in italics.  The images are scans of 35 mm color slide photographs taken along the way by your editor.


DAY TEN—May 30, 1983

“Falcon Dam State Park, Texas”

“9:30 — Breakfast — The Pauraque sang all nite and the Mockingbird sang half the nite and interrupted my sleep.”

Before leaving the campground, we paid a final visit to the shores of the reservoir.  We saw Anhinga and Little Blue Heron among the other water birds we had seen there previously.

“Now to the spillway again.  We got lucky — A Green Kingfisher flew in and gave us great views.  Cliff Swallows were plentiful.  The Green Herons were fishing and so was a Kiskadee Flycatcher.  Black Vultures were flying around.  A Groove-billed Ani was very much in evidence.” 

The little Green Kingfisher (Chloroceryle americana), after all the effort we finally saw one.  It was just half the size of the Ringed Kingfisher we saw at the spillway one day earlier.

Green Heron
A Green Heron in vegetation alongside the Falcon Dam spillway.
Great Kiskadee
The Great Kiskadee is a tropical flycatcher found regularly in and along the Rio Grande’s riparian woodlands.  This individual was diving in the water for small fish at the Falcon Dam spillway.  It was actually a bit larger than the much anticipated Green Kingfisher that was there as well.

“Here we met Bill Graber from San Antonio.  Ron and 3 women—Sandra from Wales, 1 from Oregon, and 1 from San Antonio…  We all walked to the spot for the Ferruginous Owl”

We again followed Father Tom’s directions; “Park at spillway, walk the road to a fence, go right to the river, follow fence to a big dip (gully).”

Once in the designated area, several of us began searching around the vicinity for the owls.  I was out of sight of the others and was examining a long procession of tropical leafcutter ants, possibly the Texas Leafcutter Ant (Atta texana).  Their foraging trail had two single-file lanes—worker ants carrying dime-sized pieces of leaves to the nest and worker ants returning to the tree to harvest more.  The ants’ path of travel stretched for more than one hundred feet down the limbs and trunk of the source tree, across the sandy ground, over a fallen log, across more sandy ground, through some leaf litter in the shrubs, and to the nest, where the foliage will be used to cultivate fungi (Lepiotaceae) for food.  Thousands of worker ants were marching the route while others guarded their lines—fascinating.

Suddenly, I heard a commotion in the brush.  Collared Peccaries (Dicotyles tajacu), also known as Javelina, on the run and headed right my way!  The others must have unknowingly spooked them.  In an instant I scrambled to my feet and bounded up the trunk of a willow tree that was strongly arching toward the river and had partially fallen after the bank had washed away.  There I stood atop the nearly horizontal trunk as between 6 and 10 grunting peccaries bustled past in a cloud of dust.  Just as fast as they had appeared, they were gone.

Collared Peccary
The Collared Peccary is native to a range extending from South America north into southern Texas and parts of southern Arizona.  (National Park Service image by Cookie Ballou)

I walked back toward the gully and as I approached, I could see everyone peering at something in the dense foliage of the trees overhanging the river.

“…eventually Sandra spotted one coming in.  Another was also seen in a much better position.  We all saw the 2 black spots on the back of his head when he turned his head 180°.  It looked like another face.”

They had found the Ferruginous Pygmy Owls, right where Father Tom said they would be.  But they weren’t easy to see.  And they were tiny.  Make a loose fist—that’s about the size of a Ferruginous Pygmy Owl.  We had to take turns standing at favorable places where there was a less-obstructed view of each bird.  I’m not certain that anyone was able to get photographs.  The shade was too dark for my equipment to get a favorable exposure.  Such had been the case for many of the birds we found in the riparian forest.  This owl was a life list species for everyone in our group and for most of the others.  Like the Green Kingfisher, the owls were just barely within the A.B.A. area, on limbs stretching out above the waters of the Rio Grande.

“Then we came back to the picnic ground and walked the river’s edge for a 1/4 mile — Nothing extra, except an Altamira Oriole.”

I again did a little wading in the Rio Grande to cool down after spending hours in the hot scrubland/forest.

“On the way back to Brownsville, we stopped at Santa Margarita again with no Brown Jay luck.”

Though we never did bump into the roving band of Brown Jays at Santa Margarita Ranch, they were there, and they’re a species that’s still there today.

“On to Brownsville for good sightings of the Clay-colored Robin at the radio station.”

We returned to the radio transmitter site at Coria and Los Ebanos in Brownsville for yet another attempt to find Clay-colored Robins/Thrushes.  After again securing permission from Mr. Wilson to have a look around, we at last had success and found a pair of Clay-colored Thrushes moving about in the boughs of the shade-casting tress and shrubs.  With some persistence, we all got binocular views of these earth-tone rarities from Mexico.

While in Brownsville, we thought it a good idea to dabble a bit in the experiences of local consumer culture, so we drove downtown.  After finding a place to park the camper, we commenced to going for an international stroll over the bridge that crosses the Rio Grande into Matamoras, Tamaulipas, Mexico.  It was our first legal incursion south of the border.  (In recent days, we may have stepped back-and-forth over the line a couple of times while wading in the river below Falcon Dam.)

Once in Matamoros, we entered the bank.  Steve wanted to get some Mexican currency and coins for his collection, so we stepped inside.  It was a typical classical-style masonry building like most banks built early in the twentieth century were, but this one had very few accoutrements inside.  There was a big vault, some cash drawers, maybe a desk and a chair, and that was it.  The doors were left open to get a flow of dirty air in the place because there was no air conditioning.  No loan department or Christmas Clubs here, just dollars for pesos.

Upon leaving the bank and heading into the town, we were solicited by the unlicensed curbside pharmacists selling herbs and other home remedies.  Not for me, I had one thing in mind on this shopping trip.

We walked up the street to step inside some of the numerous tourist shops—stuff everywhere.  The other men bought a few post cards.  For a friend back home, I bought a key chain with a tiny pair of cowboy boots attached.  Having heard that cowboy boots could be had for cheap south of the border, he had given me his size requirements and asked that I should get him a pair if the price was right.  Well, the price wasn’t that great in the tourist town section of the city, so I got him the key chain instead.

After about an hour, we were headed back over the bridge into Brownsville.  Along the pedestrian walkway, there was a United States Customs checkpoint one had to pass before entering the country.  The customs officer asked the usual questions and after telling him we were only in Mexico for an hour, he queried, “Did you buy anything that you’re bringing back into the country.”  Having an item to declare, I told him yes, I bought a pair of cowboy boots.  He looked down at my rubber-toed canvas sneakers, then looked at Russ, Harold, and Steve, who obviously weren’t carrying or wearing boots, and he snapped, “Where are they?”  I pulled the wax paper bag with the key chain inside from my pocket.  He called me a smart ass and waved us on.  We chuckled.

The only bird species seen during or short trek into Matamoros?  House Sparrow.

In the forty years since our visit to the Rio Grande Valley, the rate of northbound human migration across the river, and particularly the amount of smuggling activity that uses the migration as a diversion to cover its operations, has surely taken the fun out of being on the border.  Many of the places we visited are no longer open to the public, or access is restricted and subject to tightened security.  Santa Margarita Ranch, for example, now allows guided tours only.  Falcon Dam changed its security practices after one of a pair of opposing drug cartels escalated their mutual dispute by planting explosives there—threatening to blow it up to hamper crossings by its opponent’s smugglers in the fordable waters downstream.

Fortunately for today’s birder, many of the tropical specialties have inched their range north of the Rio Grande’s banks and can be found on accessible public and private lands outside the immediate tension zone.  National Wildlife  Refuges and Texas State Parks provide access to some of the best habitats.  Places like the King Ranch even offer guided bird and wildlife tours on portions of their vast holdings where many border species including Ferruginous Pygmy Owl, Crested Caracara (Caracara plancus), Green Jay, Vermillion Flycatcher (Pyrocephalus obscurus), Northern Beardless-Tyrannulet (Camptostoma imberbe), and the tropical orioles are now found.  So don’t let the state of dysfunction on the border stop you from visiting south Texas and its marvelous ecosystems.  It’s still a birder’s paradise!

“We ate supper at Luby’s Cafeteria and headed north on Route 77 for the Tropical Parula.”

Harold was very pleased to have added Hook-billed Kite, Ferruginous Pygmy Owl, and Clay-colored Thrush to his A.B.A. life list, so he offered to buy dinner.  After visiting a mail box to get a few postcards on their way, we ate at Luby’s Cafeteria in Brownsville, which was an interesting experience for that time period.  Luby’s was a regional restaurant chain.  You could get in line there and select anything you wanted, then pay for it by the item.  Luby’s predated the all-you-can-eat salad bar and buffet craze that would sweep the restaurant industry in coming years.  Under the circumstances, it was perfect for us.  After not eating much all week due to the hot, humid conditions that accompanied the unusually rainy weather, our appetites begged satisfaction—but the heat hadn’t relented, so we didn’t want to overdo it.  The staff at Luby’s didn’t blink an eye at us entering the restaurant wearing field clothes.  It was the first climate-controlled space we had enjoyed all week—very refreshing.  We really enjoyed the experience and it recharged us all.

Near Raymondville along Route 77, a set of electric wires strung on tall wooden poles paralleled the highway.  These poles were hundreds of yards away from road, but seeing a raptor atop one, we stopped and got out the spotting scope.  It was yet another south Texas specialty, a White-tailed Hawk (Buteo albicaudalus), a bird of grassland and brush.  Its range north of Mexico is limited to an area of Texas from the Lower Rio Grande Valley north through the King Ranch to just beyond Kingsville.  A short while later, we saw one or two more on our way through the King Ranch.

“Saw a flock of White-rumped Sandpipers when we stopped for gas.”

Lest one might think that traveling through parts of five south Texas counties to go from Falcon Dam back east through the Lower Rio Grande Valley to Brownsville and then north for a return stay at the A.O.K. campground is just another day of birding punctuated by some driving every now and again, consider the mileage racked up on the odometer today—259 miles.  Even the counties are bigger in Texas.

We topped off the fuel tank at a service station near Sarita, Texas, and saw the White-rumped Sandpipers (Calidris fuscicollis) in a pool of rainwater among the scrubland at roadside.

“We stopped at the AOK Camp Ground 7 miles south of Kingsville and will return to get the parula at the first rest stop south of Sarita.  Now 9:30 CDST.” 

 WHY WORRY ABOUT SPIDERS AND SNAKES?

Back at the old A.O.K. campground, this time with Harold and Steve, we decided to have a camp fire for the first time on the trip.  We bought a bundle of wood at the camp office and soon had it crackling.  I broke out the harmonica, but knowing no cowboy tunes, soon stashed it away.  We had better things to do.  Did we bake some beans in an iron kettle on the hot embers?  No, we ate plenty at Luby’s.  Did we toast marshmallows on sticks and make s’mores?  Nope.  Did we roast our weenies and warm our buns?  No, not that either.  We simply sat around recapping our trip while scratching our itchy ankles.  Seems each of us was hosting chigger larvae and these parasites, upon maturing to nymphs and departing, left irritating wounds in our skin where they had been feeding—right in the hollow of our ankles.

Chiggers (Trombiculidae), like spiders and ticks, are arachnids.  They thrive in humid environments as opposed to arid climes.  Our best guess was that we had picked them up while hiking around in the subtropical riparian forests along the Rio Grande in the early days of the trip.  My wounds eventually left little red pimples where each tiny larva had been feeding.  They healed about a week after I got home.  Due to the severity of his wounds, Steve cancelled a second week of his trip.  On his own, he was going to continue west along the Rio Grande to the area of Big Bend National Park, but instead booked a flight home.  Chigger larvae are stealthy little sneaks—we never had any clue they got us until they were gone.  So why worry about spiders and snakes?

Forty Years Ago in the Lower Rio Grande Valley: Day Three


Back in late May of 1983, four members of the Lancaster County Bird Club—Russ Markert, Harold Morrrin, Steve Santner, and your editor—embarked on an energetic trip to find, observe, and photograph birds in the Lower Rio Grande Valley of Texas.  What follows is a daily account of that two-week-long expedition.  Notes logged by Markert some four decades ago are quoted in italics.  The images are scans of 35 mm color slide photographs taken along the way by your editor.


DAY THREE—May 23, 1983

For Russ, Harold, and Steve, this trip would target several bird species each individual had never observed at any prior time in their lives.  Upon seeing a new bird, they could add it to their personal “life list”.  They, like thousands of other “listers”, were dedicated to the goal of having a life list that included over 600 species seen in the American Birding Association (A.B.A.) area—North America north of Mexico.  Harold had traveled throughout much of North America (and the world) and had an A.B.A. life list well in excess of 600 species, thus he had seen nearly all of the regularly occurring birds in the coverage area.  His chance for seeing new species was limited to vagrants that might wander into North America or tropical birds that, over time, had extended their range north of Mexico into the United States.  I don’t recall  how many species Russ and Steve had seen, but I know each had very few opportunities for new finds east of the Rocky Mountains.  For all three of these men, the Lower Rio Grande Valley presented a best bet to add multiple species to their lists.  I had never been south of Cape Hatteras or west of Pennsylvania, so I had the opportunity to add dozens of species to a life list.  Throughout the trip, Russ, Harold, and Steve enthusiastically helped me locate and see new species.  As a result, I saw over 50 new birds to add to my list.

One of the functions of the American Birding Association was to decide which bird species an observer could add to the life list.  The official A.B.A. list was revised regularly to include not only regularly occurring native species, but vagrants as well.  One of the trickier determinations was the status of introduced species.  Back in 1983, a birder could count a Ring-necked Pheasant seen in Pennsylvania on their A.B.A. life list because they were thought to be freely reproducing with a population sustainably established in the state.  Today, they are considered an exotic release and are not countable under A.B.A. rules.

Enter the Black Francolin (Francolinus francolinus), a member of the pheasant family that back in 1983, was countable under A.B.A. rules.  Native to India, the Black Francolin was introduced into southwest Louisiana in 1961 and was apparently reproducing and established.  Russ had a tip that they were seen with some regularity in areas of farmland, marsh, and oil fields south of Vinton, Louisiana.  It was one of this trip’s target species for his life list.

“Ready for Black Francolin.  Up at 5:30 — After breakfast, we went to Gum Cove Road.  No Francolins, but at the end of the blacktop road, we had 5 Purple Gallinules in the scope at one time.  King Rails were plentiful.  We found a dead male Painted Bunting.  Later, we saw a very beautiful live one.  Water everywhere.  Flooded fields everywhere.  The road was flooded for about 50 yards at one point.  White Ibis were abundant.”

Purple Gallinule
Purple Gallinules (Porphyrio martinicus) were common along Gum Cove Road.  In silhouette from a distance, those that were perching atop the shrubs raised hopes that we had located the sought after Blank Francolin, but they were all Purple Gallinules.  We weren’t overly disappointed.  (Vintage 35 mm image)
Painted Bunting
The live male Painted Bunting (Passerina cirus) seen along Gum Cove Road.  (Vintage 35 mm image)

Other sightings of note along Gum Cove Road included: Northern Bobwhite, Common Nighthawk, Cattle Egret, Green Heron, American Bittern, Snowy Egret, Glossy Ibis, Black-necked Stilt (Himantopus mexicanus), Forster’s Tern, Black Tern, Yellow-billed Cuckoo, Eastern Kingbird, Purple Martin, Barn Swallow, Brown Thrasher, Loggerhead Shrike, Red-winged Blackbird, Brown-headed Cowbird, Eastern Meadowlark, Boat-tailed Grackle (Quiscalus major), and Great-tailed Grackle (Quiscalus mexicanus)—a very large and noisy blackbird I had never seen before.

Glossy Ibis
A Glossy Ibis (Plegadis falcinellus) in a flooded area along Gum Cove Road.  (Vintage 35 mm image)

The reader may be interested to know that today, the area between Vinton and the Gulf of Mexico has largely been surrendered to the forces of the hurricanes that strike the region with some regularity.  Cameron Parish* is a sparsely populated buffer zone of marshes, abundant wildlife, and oil and gas wells.  Its population of more than 9,000 in 1983 has plunged to less than 6,000 today.  Hurricane Rita (2005) and Hurricane Ike (2008) precipitated the sharp decline.  The latter hurricane had a 22-foot storm surge that flooded areas 60 miles inland of the coastline.  Following these storms, the majority of severely damaged and destroyed homes were not rebuilt and residents in the most affected areas relocated.  In 2020, Hurricane Laura made landfall at Cameron Parish with record-tying 150 mph winds and a storm surge that pushed flood waters inland to Lake Charles.  Six weeks later, Hurricane Delta followed with 100 mph winds.  For government agencies, the emergency response required by these two storms was minimized by the reduced presence of people and/or their personal property.

* A parish in Louisiana is similar to a county in other states.

Category 4 Hurricane Laura making landfall at Cameron Parish, Louisiana, on August 27, 2020, with wind speeds of 150 mph.  Had this storm come ashore to the east at New Orleans or to the west at Houston, it would have catastrophically impacted a million people or more.  (N.O.A.A./National Weather Service image)

“After a quick stop at the camp grounds, where I slipped and fell in the shower last nite, we headed south.  Larry saw many birds en route.”

Russ took a bad fall on a slippery wet concrete floor and had bruises to show for it.  It worried me; he was 71 years old at the time.  But he was adamant about continuing on and did so with great vigor.

Just hours after a sojourn through the swampy parcels south of Vinton, we were cruising through the metropolis of Houston, Texas, then across a landscape with less cultivated cropland and more scrubland with grazing.  Here and there, but primarily to the east of Houston, blankets of roadside wildflowers painted the landscape with eye-popping color.  Lady Bird Johnson encouraged the plantings soon after she and Lyndon returned to Texas upon leaving life in the White House in 1969.  The sight of those vivid blooms was so memorable and so beautiful.  One couldn’t resist making nasty comparisons to the gobs of mowed grass and mangled trash along the highways back in Pennsylvania.

Birds along the way: Ruby-throated Hummingbird, Common Nighthawk, Black-bellied Whistling Duck, Yellow-crowned Night Heron, Great Blue, Heron, Great Egret, Black Vulture, Turkey Vulture, Red-tailed Hawk, Laughing Gull, Black Tern, Scissor-tailed Flycatcher, Cliff Swallow, Loggerhead Shrike, and Painted Bunting.  I saw my first Black-bellied Whistling Ducks (Dendrocygna autumnalis) and Golden-fronted Woodpecker (Melanerpes aurifrons) near Woodsboro, Texas, and added both to my life list.

“We stopped for the nite at an A OK camp ground 7 miles south of Kingsville.”

Day Three: Vinton, Louisiana, to Kingsville, Texas, a distance of 404 miles.  (United States Geological Survey base image)

Birds at the camp included two Black-bellied Whistling Ducks flying overhead, Common Nighthawk, Golden-fronted Woodpecker, Blue Grosbeak, and another “lifer”—Curve-billed Thrasher (Toxostoma curvirostre).

We also saw a Mexican Ground Squirrel (Ictidomys mexicanus), easily identified by the rows of white spots running the length of its back.

While relaxing at the campsite that evening, we watched the landscape darken and remarked how interesting it was that the glowing red sun had yet to set below the distant horizon—a land so very flat and air so hazy and humid.

Common Nighthawk
We found this Common Nighthawk roosting on a tree limb near our campsite.  During our first few days in Louisiana and Texas, it became increasingly evident that we were in the midst of their peak northbound spring movement.  (Vintage 35 mm image)

Forty Years Ago in the Lower Rio Grande Valley: Day Two


Back in late May of 1983, four members of the Lancaster County Bird Club—Russ Markert, Harold Morrrin, Steve Santner, and your editor—embarked on an energetic trip to find, observe, and photograph birds in the Lower Rio Grande Valley of Texas.  What follows is a daily account of that two-week-long expedition.  Notes logged by Markert some four decades ago are quoted in italics.  The images are scans of 35 mm color slide photographs taken along the way by your editor.


DAY TWO—May 22, 1983

Our goal today was to continue traveling and reach western Louisiana.

“We were on our way at 6:08.  Stopped for a quick lunch in the camper and drove to Vinton, Louisiana, KOA.  Lots of hard rain through Tennessee, Georgia, and Alabama.

Day Two: Sweetwater, Tennessee, to Vinton, Louisiana, a distance of 786 miles.  (United States Geological Survey base image)

As we crossed Mississippi and entered Louisiana, we left the rain and the Appalachians behind.  Upon crossing the Mississippi River, we had arrived in the West Gulf Coastal Plain, the physiographic province that extends all the way south along the Texas coast to Mexico and includes the Lower Rio Grande Valley.  West of Baton Rouge, we began seeing waders in the picturesque Bald Cypress swamps—Great Egrets, Green Herons (Butorides virescens), Little Blue Herons (Egretta caerulea), and Glossy Ibis (Plegadis falcinellus) were identified.  A Pileated Woodpecker was observed as it flew above the roadside treetops.

The rains we endured earlier in the trip had left there mark in much of Louisiana and Texas.  Flooding in agricultural fields was widespread and the flat landscape often appeared inundated as far as the eye could see.  Along the highway near Vinton, we spotted the first two of the many southern specialties we would find on the trip, a Loggerhead Shrike (Lanius ludovicianus) and a Scissor-tailed Flycatcher (Tyrannus forficatus), both perched on utility wires and searching for a meal.

Loggerhead Shrike
Near Vinton, Louisiana, a Loggerhead Shrike was on the lookout for either a large insect or small bird upon which it could prey.  (Vintage 35 mm image)

Plantings for Wet Lowlands

This linear grove of mature trees, many of them nearly one hundred years old, is comprised of a mix of native White Oaks (Quercus alba) and Swamp White Oaks (Quercus bicolor).

Imagine a planting like this along that section of stream you’re mowing or grazing right now.  The Swamp White Oak in particular thrives in wet soils and is available now for just a couple of bucks per tree from several of the lower Susquehanna’s County Conservation District Tree Sales.  These and other trees and shrubs planted along creeks and rivers to create a riparian buffer help reduce sediment and nutrient pollution.  In addition, these vegetated borders protect against soil erosion, they provide shade to otherwise sun-scorched waters, and they provide essential wildlife habitat.  What’s not to love?

Swamp White Oak
Autumn leaf of a Swamp White Oak

The following native species make great companions for Swamp White Oaks in a lowland setting and are available at bargain prices from one or more of the County Conservation District Tree Sales now underway…

Red Maple
The Red Maple is an ideal tree for a stream buffer project. They do so well that you should limit them to 10% or less of the plants in your project so that they don’t overwhelm slower-growing species.
River Birch
The River Birch (Betula nigra) is a multi-trunked tree of lowlands.  Large specimens with arching trunks help shade waterways and provide a source of falling insects for surface-feeding fish.  Its peeling bark is a distinctive feature.
Common Winterberry
The Common Winterberry with its showy red winter-time fruit is a slow-growing shrub of wet soils.  Only female specimens of this deciduous holly produce berries, so you need to plant a bunch to make sure you have both genders for successful pollination.
American Robins feeding on Common Winterberry.
An American Robin feeding on Common Winterberry.
Common Spicebush
Common Spicebush is a shrub of moist lowland soils.  It is the host plant for the Spicebush Swallowtail butterfly and produces small red berries for birds and other wildlife.  Plant it widely among taller trees to provide native vegetation in the understory of your forest.
Common Spicebush foliage and berries.
Common Spicebush foliage and berries in the shade beneath a canopy of tall trees.
Common Pawpaw
The Common Pawpaw a small shade-loving tree of the forest understory.
Common Pawpaw
Common Pawpaw is a colony-forming small tree which produces a fleshy fruit.  It is the host plant for the caterpillars of the Zebra Swallowtail.
Buttonbush
The Buttonbush is a shrub of wet soils.  It produces a round flower cluster, followed by this globular seed cluster.
Eastern Sycamore
And don’t forget the Eastern Sycamore, the giant of the lowlands.  At maturity, the white-and-tan-colored bark on massive specimens makes them a spectacular sight along stream courses and river shores.  Birds ranging from owls, eagles, and herons to smaller species including the Yellow-throated Warbler rely upon them for nesting sites.
Yellow-crowned Night Herons Nesting in an Eastern Sycamore
Yellow-crowned Night Herons, an endangered species in Pennsylvania, nesting in an Eastern Sycamore.

So don’t mow, do something positive and plant a buffer!

Act now to order your plants because deadlines are approaching fast.  For links to the County Conservation District Tree Sales in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed, see our February 18th post.

Photo of the Day

Birds of Conewago Falls in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed: Yellow-crowned Night Herons
You remember the Photo of the Day from back on April 7th, don’t you?  You know, the one with the pair of endangered Yellow-crowned Night Herons at their nest.  Well, meet their kids.

Photo of the Day

Birds of Conewago Falls in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed: Great Egret
During the late nineteenth century, Great Egrets were nearly exterminated by hunters who shot adult birds, often at their nest sites, to collect the ornate plumes that adorn their heads and backs during breeding season.  Parentless young were left to die in the nests while the showy feathers of the adults were sold to clothiers as decorations for expensive hats.  In Pennsylvania, the Great Egret nests at just a few locations and is listed as an endangered species.  

Photo of the Day

Birds of Conewago Falls in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed: Yellow-crowned Night Heron
In the urban landscape, massive old trees like this Eastern Sycamore not only provide shade and beauty, but they can also be essential nesting sites for birds like these Yellow-crowned Night Herons, a species listed as endangered in Pennsylvania.  This pair is part of a small colony located in the stylish midtown section of the state’s capital city, Harrisburg.

Photo of the Day

Birds of Conewago Falls in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed: American Bittern
The American Bittern (Botaurus lentiginosus) is a member of the Ardeidae, the heron and egret family.  It is a stealthy migrant, making its flights under cover of darkness, then resting and feeding in dense stands of Common Cattails and other marsh plants during the day.  It avoids detection by raising its bill skyward to create a profile and color scheme that blends well with the contours of the vegetation.  In Pennsylvania, loss of wetland habitat used for nesting has led to the American Bittern being listed as an endangered species.

Photo of the Day

During the coldest months of the year, Great Blue Herons linger on the lower Susquehanna, its tributaries, and on local ponds and lakes until ice forces them to move south.  Now is the time to watch for them hunting mice and other small mammals in grassy meadows and fields to supplement their diet before heading out.

A Visit to Bombay Hook National Wildlife Refuge

It’s surprising how many millions of people travel the busy coastal routes of Delaware each year to leave the traffic congestion and hectic life of the northeast corridor behind to visit congested hectic shore towns like Rehobeth Beach, Bethany Beach, and Ocean City, Maryland.  They call it a vacation, or a holiday, or a weekend, and it’s exhausting.  What’s amazing is how many of them drive right by a breathtaking national treasure located along Delaware Bay just east of the city of Dover—and never know it.  A short detour on your route will take you there.  It’s Bombay Hook National Wildlife Refuge, a quiet but spectacular place that draws few crowds of tourists, but lots of birds and other wildlife.

Bombay Hook National Wildlife Refuge is located just off Route 9, a lightly-traveled coastal road east of Dover, Delaware.  Note the Big Bluestem and other warm season grasses in the background.  Bombay Hook, like other refuges in the system, is managed for the benefit of the wildlife that relies upon it to survive.  Within recent years, most of the mowed grass and tilled ground that once occurred here has been replaced by prairie grasses or successional growth, much to the delight of Northern Bobwhite (Colinus virginianus) and other species.

Let’s join Uncle Tyler Dyer and have a look around Bombay Hook.  He’s got his duck stamp and he’s ready to go.

Uncle Ty’s current United States Fish and Wildlife Service Duck Stamp displayed on his dashboard is free admission to the tour road at Bombay Hook and other National Wildlife Refuges.
The refuge at Bombay Hook includes woodlands, grasslands, and man-made freshwater impoundments, but it is largely comprised of thousands of acres of tidal salt marsh bordering and purifying the waters of Delaware Bay.  These marshes are renowned wintering areas for an Atlantic population of Snow Goose known as the “Greater Snow Goose” (Anser caerulescens atlanticus).  Thousands of these birds rising over the marsh into the glowing light of a setting sun is an unforgettable sight.
Trails at various stops along the auto tour route lead to observation towers and other features. This boardwalk meanders into the salt marsh grasses and includes a viewing area alongside a tidal creek.  Our visit coincided with a very high tide induced by east winds and a new moon.
During high tide, an Eastern Cottontail (Sylvilagus floridanus) seeks higher ground near the boardwalk and the wooded edge of the salt marsh.
As the tide rises, fast-flying shorebirds scramble from flooded mudflats in the salt marsh on the east side of the tour road.
When high tide arrives in the salt marshes, shorebirds and waterfowl often concentrate in the man-made freshwater pools on the west side of the tour road.  Glaring afternoon sun is not the best for viewing birds located west of the road.  For ideal light conditions, time your visit for a day when high tide occurs in the morning and recedes to low tide in the afternoon.
A view looking west into Shearness Pool, largest of the freshwater impoundments at Bombay Hook.
Bombay Hook has many secretive birds hiding in its wetlands, but they can often be located by the patient observer.  Here, two Pied-billed Grebes feed in an opening among the vegetation in a freshwater pool.
One of Bombay Hook’s resident Bald Eagles patrols the wetlands.
American Avocets (Recurvirostra americana) gather by the hundreds at Bombay Hook during the fall.  A passing eagle will stir them into flight.
An American Avocet, a delicate wader with a peculiar upturned bill.
As soon as the tide begins receding, shorebirds and waterfowl like these Green-winged Teal begin dispersing into the salt marshes to feed on the exposed mudflats.
The woodlands and forested areas of the refuge host resident songbirds and can be attractive to migrating species like this Yellow-rumped Warbler.
For much of its course, the tour road at Bombay Hook is located atop the dike that creates the man-made freshwater pools on the western edge of the tidal salt marsh.  If you drive slowly and make frequent stops to look and listen, you’ll notice an abundance of birds and other wildlife living along this border between two habitats.  Here, a Swamp Sparrow has a look around.
Savannah Sparrows are common along the tour road where native grasses grow wild.
Bombay Hook is renowned for its rarities. One of the attractions during the late summer and autumn of 2021 was a group of Roseate Spoonbills (Platalea ajaja), vagrants from the southern states, seen here with Great Egrets and Snowy Egrets (Egretta thula).
Roseate Spoonbills and Great Egrets at Bombay Hook.

Remember to go the Post Office and get your duck stamp.  You’ll be supporting habitat acquisition and improvements for the wildlife we cherish.  And if you get the chance, visit a National Wildlife Refuge.  November can be a great time to go, it’s bug-free!  Just take along your warmest clothing and plan to spend the day.  You won’t regret it.

Conowingo Dam: Cormorants, Eagles, Snakeheads and a Run of Hickory Shad

Meet the Double-crested Cormorant,  a strangely handsome bird with a special talent for catching fish.  You see, cormorants are superb swimmers when under water—using their webbed feet to propel and maneuver themselves with exceptional speed in pursuit of prey.

Like many species of birds that dive for their food, Double-crested Cormorants run across the surface of the water to gain speed for a takeoff.  Smaller wings may make it more difficult to get airborne, but when folded, they provide improved streamlining for submerged swimming.

Double-crested Cormorants, hundreds of them, are presently gathered along with several other species of piscivorous (fish-eating) birds on the lower Susquehanna River below Conowingo Dam near Rising Sun, Maryland.  Fish are coming up the river and these birds are taking advantage of their concentrations on the downstream side of the impoundment to provide food to fuel their migration or, in some cases, to feed their young.

Double-crested Cormorants, mostly adult birds migrating toward breeding grounds to the north, are gathered on the rocks on the east side of the river channel below Conowingo Dam.  A Great Blue Heron from a nearby rookery can be seen at the center of the image.
Bald Eagles normally gather in large numbers at Conowingo Dam in the late fall and early winter.  Presently there are more than 50 there, and the majority of them are breeding age adults.  Presumably they are still on their way north to nest.  Meanwhile, local pairs are already feeding young, so it seems these transient birds are running a bit late.  Many of them can be seen on the rocks along the east side of the river channel,…
…on the powerline trestles on the island below the dam…
…in the trees along the east shore,…
…and in the trees surrounding Fisherman’s Park on the west shore.

In addition to the birds, the movements of fish attract larger fish, and even larger fishermen.

Anglers gather to fish the placid waters below the dam’s hydroelectric powerhouse .  Only a few of the generating turbines are operating, so the flow through the dam is minimal.
Some water is being released along the west shoreline to attract migratory river herring to the west fish lift for sorting and retention as breeding stock for a propagation program.  The east lift, the passage that hoists American Shad (Alosa sapidissima) to a trough that allows them to swim over the top of the dam to waters upriver, will begin operating as soon as these larger migratory fish begin arriving.

The excitement starts when the sirens start to wail and the red lights begin flashing.  Yes friends, it’s showtime.

Red lights and sirens are a warning that additional flow is about to be released from the dam.  Boaters should anticipate rough water and persons in and along the river need to seek higher ground immediately.
Gates are opened at mid-river to release a surge of water through the dam.
The wake from the release quickly reaches the shoreline, raising the water level in moments.
Experienced anglers know that the flow through the dam gets fish moving and can improve the catch significantly, especially in spring when many species are ascending the river.

Within minutes of the renewed flow, birds are catching fish.

A Double-crested Cormorant with a young Channel Catfish (Ictalurus punctatus).
A Double-crested Cormorant fleeing others trying to steal its Channel Catfish.
Another Double-crested Cormorant eating a Channel Catfish.  Did you realize that Channel Catfish were an introduced species in the Susquehanna River system?
An Osprey with a stick, it’s too busy building a nest right now to fish.
Great Blue Herons swallow their prey at the spot of capture, then fly back to the nest to regurgitate a sort of “minced congealed fish product” to their young.

Then the anglers along the wave-washed shoreline began catching fish too.

This young man led off a flurry of catches that would last for the remainder of the afternoon.
Though Gizzard Shad are filter feeders that don’t readily take baits and lures, they are regularly foul-hooked and reeled in from the large schools that ascend the river in spring.
Gizzard Shad are very abundant in the lower Susquehanna, providing year-round forage for many species of predatory animals including Bald Eagles.
A Double-crested Cormorant swallowing a Gizzard Shad.
This angler soon helped another fisherman by landing his large catch, a Northern Snakehead (Channa argus).
The teeth of a Northern Snakehead are razor sharp.  It is an aggressive non-native invasive species currently overtaking much of the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed.  Anglers are encouraged to fish for them, catch them, keep them, and kill them at the site of capture.  Never transport a live Northern Snakehead  anywhere at any time.  It is illegal in both Maryland and Pennsylvania to possess a live snakehead. 
Northern Snakehead advisory sign posted at Exelon Energy’s Conowingo Fishermen’s Park.
A stringer of Northern Snakeheads.  This species was imported from Asia as a food fish, so it has excellent culinary possibilities.  It’s better suited for a broiler or frying pan than a river or stream.
Another stringer of Northern Snakeheads.  It’s pretty safe to say that they have quickly become one of the most abundant predatory fish in the river.  Their impact on native species won’t be good, so catch and eat as many as you can.  Remember, snakeheads swim better in butter and garlic than in waters with native fish.
This foul-hooked Shorthead Redhorse (Moxostoma macrolepidotum), a native species of sucker, was promptly released.
Striped Bass are anadromous fish that leave the sea in spring to spawn in fresh water.  They ascend the Susquehanna in small numbers, relying upon the operation of the fish passages at the Conowingo, Holtwood, Safe Harbor, and York Haven Dams to continue their journey upstream.  During spring spawning, Striped Bass in the Susquehanna River and on the Susquehanna Flats portion of the upper Chesapeake Bay are not in season and may not be targeted, even for catch-and-release.  This accidental catch was immediately turned loose.
After removal from the hook, this hefty Smallmouth Bass was returned to the river.  Many anglers are surprised to learn that Smallmouth Bass are not native to the Susquehanna basin.
This angler’s creel contains a Northern Snakehead (left) and a Walleye (right).  Did you know that the Walleye (Sander vitreus) is an introduced species in the Susquehanna watershed?
By late afternoon, anglers using shad darts began hooking into migrating Hickory Shad (Alosa mediocris), a catch-and-release species in Maryland.
Hickory Shad are recognized by their lengthy lower jaw.  They are anadromous herring that leave the sea to spawn in freshwater streams.  Hickory Shad ascend the Susquehanna as far as Conowingo Dam each year, but shy away from the fish lifts.  Downriver from the dam, they do ascend Deer Creek along the river’s west shore and Octoraro Creek on the east side.  In Pennsylvania, the Hickory Shad is an endangered species.
A Hickory Shad angled on a dual shad dart rig.  During the spring spawning run, they feed mostly on small fish, and are the most likely of the Susquehanna’s herring to take the hook.
Simultaneous hook-ups became common after fours hours worth of release water from the dam worked its way toward the mouth of the river and got the schools moving.  Water temperatures in the mid-to-upper-fifties trigger the ascent of Hickory Shad.  On the Susquehanna, those temperatures were slow to materialize in the spring of 2021, so the Hickory Shad migration is a bit late.
Catch-and-release fishing for Hickory Shad appears to be in full swing not only at the dam, but along the downstream shoreline to at least the mouth of Deer Creek at Susquehanna State Park too.
Many Hickory Shad could be seen feeding on some of the millions of caddisflies (Trichoptera) swarming on the river.  These insects, along with earlier hatches of Winter Stoneflies (Taeniopterygidae), not only provide forage for many species of fish, but  are a vital source of natural food for birds that migrate up the river in March and April each year.  Swallows, Ring-billed Gulls, and Bonaparte’s Gulls are particularly fond of snatching them from the surface of the water.
A Winter Stonefly (Taeniopterygidae) from an early-season hatch on the Susquehanna River at the Veteran’s Memorial Bridge at Columbia/Wrightsville, Pennsylvania.  (March 3, 2021)
Just below Conowingo Dam, a lone fly fisherman was doing a good job mimicking the late-April caddisfly hatch, successfully reeling in numerous surface-feeding Hickory Shad.
You may have noticed the extraordinary number of introduced fish species listed in this account of a visit to Conowingo Dam.  Sorry to say that there are two more: the Flathead Catfish (Pylodictis olivaris) and the Blue Catfish (Ictalurus furcatus).  Like the Northern Snakehead, each has become a plentiful invasive species during recent years.  Unlike the Northern Snakehead, these catfish are “native transplants”, species introduced from populations in the Mississippi River and Gulf Slope drainages of the United States.  So if you visit the area, consider getting a fishing license and catching a few.  Like the snakeheads, they too are quite palatable.

The arrival of migrating Hickory Shad heralds the start of a movement that will soon include White Perch, anadromous American Shad, and dozens of other fish species that swim upstream during the springtime.  Do visit Fisherman’s Park at Conowingo Dam to see this spectacle before it’s gone.  The fish and birds have no time to waste, they’ll soon be moving on.

To reach Exelon’s Conowingo Fisherman’s Park from Rising Sun, Maryland, follow U.S. Route 1 south across the Conowingo Dam, then turn left onto Shuresville Road, then make a sharp left onto Shureslanding Road.  Drive down the hill to the parking area along the river.  The park’s address is 2569 Shureslanding Road, Darlington, Maryland.

A water release schedule for the Conowingo Dam can be obtained by calling Exelon Energy’s Conowingo Generation Hotline at 888-457-4076.  The recording is updated daily at 5 P.M. to provide information for the following day.

And remember, the park can get crowded during the weekends, so consider a weekday visit.

Fire and Ice at Conewago Falls

This morning, the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed experienced remotely the effects of fire and ice.

At daybreak, the cold air mass that brought the first freeze of the season to northernmost New England gave us a taste of the cold with temperatures below 50 degrees throughout.

The air temperature at daybreak in the Gettysburg Basin east of Conewago Falls.

At sunrise, the cloudless sky had a peculiar overcast look with no warm glow on buildings, vegetation, and terrain.  Soon, the sun was well above the horizon, yet there was still a sort of darkness across the landscape.

Smoke from massive wildland fires in the Pacific Coast States created a haze that persisted throughout the day in the Susquehanna valley.
Away from traffic and the odors of agriculture and urban life, the smell of wood smoke was easily detectable.  The haze from fires almost 3,000 miles away made it appear to be an overcast day at Conewago Falls.
Due to the sudden cold, there were no insects flying above the Susquehanna during the first hour of daylight this morning, so swallows gathered in the trees to conserve energy until the hunt would be more productive.
The diabase boulders at Conewago Falls retain heat and provide an even better refuge from the cold than a dead tree on a chilly morning.  Here, a juvenile and an adult Tree Swallow (center) are surrounded by Northern Rough-winged Swallows.  Hundreds of each of these migratory species were feeding at the falls today.
Two dozen or more Barn Swallows, including this juvenile, were seen among the swarming birds.
Several late Bank Swallows, including this one (bottom center), were among the flocks of migrants at Conewago Falls this morning.  One Cliff Swallow (Petrochelidon pyrrhonota) was seen as well.
A Great Egret (Ardea alba) and a Great Blue Heron.
An Osprey searching the clear pools and rapids for a morning meal.
A juvenile Bald Eagle with the same goal in mind.
The same Bald Eagle keeping a close watch on the Osprey.  Bald Eagles frequently ambush Ospreys to steal their catch.  For a young eagle, acquiring the skill of fish theft may improve its chances of survival, at least until the Ospreys head south.

All that bright filtered sunlight was ideal for photographing butterflies along the Conewago Falls shoreline.  Have a look.

During the late morning, dozens of Monarch butterflies migrated past Conewago Falls.  This one paused to feed.
The Viceroy (Limenitis archippus) is a Monarch mimic.  Its appearance fools would-be predators into thinking it is a Monarch and possesses the same foul flavor as the milkweed-raised model.
This Variegated Fritillary (Euptoieta claudia) was among the late-season butterflies at Conewago Falls.
The Common Buckeye is presently just that, very common on flowers and moist sandy soil around the falls.
The Painted Lady is a regularly-occurring migratory species of butterfly.
The Red Admiral is typically a common to abundant migrant.  So far in 2020, they are scarce in the lower Susquehanna valley. 

Summer Breeze

A moderate breeze from the south placed a headwind into the face of migrants trying to wing their way to winter quarters.  The urge to reach their destination overwhelmed any inclination a bird or insect may have had to stay put and try again another day.

Blue Jays were joined by increasing numbers of American Robins crossing the river in small groups to continue their migratory voyages.  Killdeer (Charadrius vociferous) and a handful of sandpipers headed down the river route.  Other migrants today included a Cooper’s Hawk (Accipiter cooperii), Eastern Bluebirds (Sialia sialis), and a few Common Mergansers (Mergus merganser), House Finches (Haemorhous mexicanus), and Common Grackles (Quiscalus quiscula).

The afternoon belonged to the insects.  The warm wind blew scores of Monarchs toward the north as they persistently flapped on a southwest heading.  Many may have actually lost ground today.  Painted Lady (Vanessa cardui) and Cloudless Sulphur butterflies were observed battling their way south as well.  All three of the common migrating dragonflies were seen: Common Green Darner (Anax junius), Wandering Glider (Pantala flavescens), and Black Saddlebags (Tramea lacerata).

The warm weather and summer breeze are expected to continue as the rain and wind from Hurricane Nate, today striking coastal Alabama and Mississippi, progresses toward the Susquehanna River watershed during the coming forty-eight hours.

This Great Blue Heron was joined by numerous other fishermen and a good number of sightseers in the falls today.
A colorful young Northern Water Snake (Nerodia sipedon) takes advantage of the sun-heated surface of a Pothole Rock to remain nimble and active.  Cooler weather will soon compel this and other reptiles to find shelter for winter hibernation.
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Blue Jay Way

The Neotropical birds that raised their young in Canada and in the northern United States have now logged many miles on their journey to warmer climates for the coming winter.  As their density decreases among the masses of migrating birds, a shift to species with a tolerance for the cooler winter weather of the temperate regions will be evident.

Though it is unusually warm for this late in September, the movement of diurnal migrants continues.  This morning at Conewago Falls, five Broad-winged Hawks (Buteo platypterus) lifted from the forested hills to the east, then crossed the river to continue a excursion to the southwest which will eventually lead them and thousands of others that passed through Pennsylvania this week to wintering habitat in South America.  Broad-winged Hawks often gather in large migrating groups which swarm in the rising air of thermal updrafts, then, after gaining substantial altitude, glide away to continue their trip.  These ever-growing assemblages from all over eastern North America funnel into coastal Texas where they make a turn to south around the Gulf of Mexico, then continue on toward the tropics.  In the coming weeks, a migration count at Corpus Christi in Texas could tally 100,000 or more Broad-winged Hawks in a single day as a large portion of the continental population passes by.  You can track their movement and that of other diurnal raptors as recorded at sites located all over North America by visiting hawkcount.org on the internet.  Check it out.  You’ll be glad you did.

Nearly all of the other migrants seen today have a much shorter flight ahead of them.  Red-bellied Woodpeckers (Melanerpes carolinus), Red-headed Woodpeckers (Melanerpes erythrocephalus), and Northern Flickers (Colaptes auratus) were on the move.  Migrating American Robins (Turdus migratorius) crossed the river early in the day, possibly leftovers from an overnight flight of this primarily nocturnal migrant.  The season’s first Great Black-backed Gulls (Larus marinus) arrived.  American Goldfinches are easily detected by their calls as they pass overhead.  Look carefully at the goldfinches visiting your feeder, the birds of summer are probably gone and are being replaced by migrants currently passing through.

By far, the most conspicuous migrant today was the Blue Jay.  Hundreds were seen as they filtered out of the hardwood forests of the diabase ridge to cautiously cross the river and continue to the southwest.  Groups of five to fifty birds would noisily congregate in trees along the river’s edge, then begin flying across the falls.  Many wary jays abandoned their small crossing parties and turned back.  Soon, they would try the trip again in a larger flock.

Sensing that they are being watched, Blue Jays are hesitant to fly across the narrow Susquehanna at Conewago Falls without first assembling into a flock.  The local constabulary often penalizes those who freelance and do not move in orderly groups.

A look at this morning’s count reveals few Neotropical migrants.  With the exception of the Broad-winged Hawks and warblers, the migratory species seen today will winter in a sub-tropical temperate climate, primarily in the southern United States, but often as far north as the lower Susquehanna River valley.  The individual birds observed today will mostly continue to a winter home a bit further south.  Those that will winter in the area of Conewago Falls will arrive in October and later.

The Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodius) can be found year-round at Conewago Falls, provided there is open water and adequate food.  Migrants from breeding colonies to the north will soon supplement the local population.
The Double-crested Cormorant (Phalacrocorax auritus) is a summer resident at Conewago Falls.  Migration of the local population and of those from further north will soon begin.  All will be gone by the time ice forms on the river.  Cormorants are often seen drying their feathers in sunlight following a series of feeding dives.

The long-distance migrating insect so beloved among butterfly enthusiasts shows signs of improving numbers.  Today, more than two dozen Monarchs were seen crossing the falls and slowly flapping and gliding their way to Mexico.

CLICK ON THE LOGO FOR TODAY’S MIGRATION COUNT TOTALS