Grasshoppers are perhaps best known for the occasions throughout history when an enormous congregation of these insects—a “plague of locusts”—would assemble and rove a region to feed. These swarms, which sometimes covered tens of thousands of square miles or more, often decimated crops, darkened the sky, and, on occasion, resulted in catastrophic famine among human settlements in various parts of the world.
The largest “plague of locusts” in the United States occurred during the mid-1870s in the Great Plains. The Rocky Mountain Locust (Melanoplus spretus), a grasshopper of prairies in the American west, had a range that extended east into New England, possibly settling there on lands cleared for farming. Rocky Mountain Locusts, aside from their native habitat on grasslands, apparently thrived on fields planted with warm-season crops. Like most grasshoppers, they fed and developed most vigorously during periods of dry, hot weather. With plenty of vegetative matter to consume during periods of scorching temperatures, the stage was set for populations of these insects to explode in agricultural areas, then take wing in search of more forage. Plagues struck parts of northern New England as early as the mid-1700s and were numerous in various states in the Great Plains through the middle of the 1800s. The big ones hit between 1873 and 1877 when swarms numbering as many as trillions of grasshoppers did $200 million in crop damage and caused a famine so severe that many farmers abandoned the westward migration. To prevent recurrent outbreaks of locust plagues and famine, experts suggested planting more cool-season grains like winter wheat, a crop which could mature and be harvested before the grasshoppers had a chance to cause any significant damage. In the years that followed, and as prairies gave way to the expansive agricultural lands that presently cover most of the Rocky Mountain Locust’s former range, the grasshopper began to disappear. By the early years of the twentieth century, the species was extinct. No one was quite certain why, and the precise cause is still a topic of debate to this day. Conversion of nearly all of its native habitat to cropland and grazing acreage seems to be the most likely culprit.
The critically endangered Eskimo Curlew (Numenius borealis), a species not photographed since 1962 and not confirmed since 1963, fed on Rocky Mountain Locusts during its spring migration through the Great Plains. Excessive hunting and conversion of grasslands to agriculture are believed responsible for the bird’s demise. (United States Fish and Wildlife Service image by Christina Nelson)
In the Mid-Atlantic States, the mosaic of the landscape—farmland interspersed with a mix of forest and disturbed urban/suburban lots—prevents grasshoppers from reaching the densities from which swarms arise. In the years since the implementation of “Green Revolution” farming practices, numbers of grasshoppers in our region have declined. Systemic insecticides including neonicotinoids keep grasshoppers and other insects from munching on warm-season crops like corn and soybeans. And herbicides including 2,4-D (2,4-Dichlorophenoxyacetic acid) have, in effect, become the equivalent of insecticides, eliminating broadleaf food plants from the pasturelands and hayfields where grasshoppers once fed and reproduced in abundance. As a result, few of the approximately three dozen species of grasshoppers with ranges that include the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed are common here. Those that still thrive are largely adapted to roadsides, waste ground, and small clearings where native and some non-native plants make up their diet.
Here’s a look at four species of grasshoppers you’re likely to find in disturbed habitats throughout our region. Each remains common in relatively pesticide-free spaces with stands of dense grasses and broadleaf plants nearby.
CAROLINA GRASSHOPPER
Dissosteira carolina
The Carolina Grasshopper, also known as the Carolina Locust or Quaker, is one of the band-winged grasshoppers. It is commonly found along roadsides and on other bare ground near stands of tall grass and broadleaf plants.The Carolina Grasshopper is variable in color, ranging from very dark brown……to a rich tan or khaki shade. These earth-tone colors provide the insect with effective camouflage while spending time on the ground.The Carolina Grasshopper is most readily detected and identified when it flies. The colors of the wings resemble those of the Mourning Cloak butterfly.Carolina Grasshoppers are among the preferred victims of Great Black Wasps (Sphex pensylvanicus). A female wasp stings the grasshopper to paralyze it, then drags it away to one of numerous cells in an underground burrow where she lays an egg on it. The body of the disabled grasshopper then provides nourishment for the larval wasp.
DIFFERENTIAL GRASSHOPPER
Melanoplus differentialis
Differential Grasshopper nymph with small “fairy wings”.An adult female Differential Grasshopper with fully developed wings.An adult female Differential Grasshopper
TWO-STRIPED GRASSHOPPER
Melanoplus bivittatus
An early-stage Two-striped Grasshopper nymph.A Two-striped Grasshopper nymph in a later stage.An adult female Two-striped Grasshopper.An adult female Two-striped Grasshopper. Note the pale stripe originating at each eye and joining near the posterior end of the wings to form a V-shaped pattern.An adult female Two-striped Grasshopper.
RED-LEGGED GRASSHOPPER
Melanoplus femurrubrum
An adult male Red-legged Grasshopper hiding in dense urban vegetation.The Red-legged Grasshopper may currently be our most abundant and widespread species.An adult male Red-legged Grasshopper.An adult female Red-legged Grasshopper.
Protein-rich grasshoppers are an important late-summer, early-fall food source for birds. The absence of these insects has forced many species of breeding birds to abandon farmland or, in some cases, disappear altogether.
During the mid-twentieth century, the Cattle Egret (Bubulcus ibis), a notoriously nomadic species, transited the Atlantic from Africa to colonize the Americas…and they did it without any direct assistance from humans. During the 1970s and early 1980s, a nesting population of Cattle Egrets on river islands adjacent to the Susquehanna’s Conejohela Flats off Washington Boro was the largest inland rookery in the northeastern United States. The Lancaster County Bird Club censused the birds each August and found peak numbers in 1981 (7,580). During their years of abundance, V-shaped flocks of Cattle Egrets from the rookery islands ventured into grazing lands throughout portions of Lancaster, York, Dauphin, and Lebanon Counties to hunt grasshoppers. These daily flights were a familiar summertime sight for nearly two decades. Then, in the early 1980s, reductions in pastureland acreage and plummeting grasshopper numbers quickly took their toll. By 1988, the rookery was abandoned. The Cattle Egrets had moved on. (Vintage 33 mm image)During the summer and early fall, juvenile and adult Ring-necked Pheasants feed heavily on grasshoppers. Earlier and more frequent mowing along with declining numbers of grasshoppers on farmlands due to an increase in pesticide use were factors contributing to the crash of the pheasant population in the early 1980s.To the delight of Wild Turkeys, each of the four species of grasshoppers shown above frequents clearings and roadsides adjacent to forest areas. While changes in grasshopper distribution have been detrimental to populations of birds like pheasants, they’ve created a feeding bonanza for turkeys.Wild Turkeys feeding on an abundance of grasshoppers along a forest road.An American Kestrel feeds on a grasshopper while ignoring the abundance of Spotted Lanternflies swarming the adjacent utility pole. In Susquehanna valley farmlands, grasshopper and kestrel numbers are down. Lanternflies, on the other hand, have got it made.Maintaining areas bordering roads, forests, wetlands, farmlands, and human development in a state of early succession can provide and ideal mix of mature grasses and broadleaf plants for grasshoppers, pollinators, birds, and other wildlife.
To pass the afternoon, we sat quietly along the edge of a pond created recently by North American Beavers (Castor canadensis). They first constructed their dam on this small stream about five years ago. Since then, a flourishing wetland has become established. Have a look.
Vegetation surrounding the inundated floodplain helps sequester nutrients and sediments to purify the water while also providing excellent wildlife habitat.The beaver lodge was built among shrubs growing in shallow water in the middle of the pond.Woolgrass (Scirpus cyperinus) is a bulrush that thrives as an emergent and as a terrestrial plant in moist soils bordering the pond.A male Common Whitetail dragonfly keeping watch over his territory.A Twelve-spotted Skimmer perched on Soft Rush.A Blue Dasher dragonfly seizing a Fall Field Cricket (Gryllus pennsylvanicus).A Spicebush Swallowtail visiting a Cardinal Flower.A Green Heron looking for small fish, crayfish, frogs, and tadpoles.The Green Heron stalking potential prey.A Wood Duck feeding on the tiny floating plant known as Lesser Duckweed (Lemna minor).A Least Sandpiper poking at small invertebrates along the muddy edge of the beaver pond.A Solitary Sandpiper.A Solitary Sandpiper testing the waters for proper feeding depth.A Pectoral Sandpiper searches for its next morsel of sustenance.The Sora (Porzana carolina) is a seldom seen rail of marshlands including those created by North American Beavers. Common Cattails, sedges, and rushes provide these chicken-shaped wetland birds with nesting and loafing cover.
Isn’t that amazing? North American Beavers build and maintain what human engineers struggle to master—dams and ponds that reduce pollution, allow fish passage, and support self-sustaining ecosystems. Want to clean up the streams and floodplains of your local watershed? Let the beavers do the job!
We’ve got the summertime blues for you, right here at susquehannawildlife.net…
In warm-season grass meadows, Big Bluestem is now in flower. This and other species of native prairie grasses provide excellent habitat for birds, mammals, and insects including butterflies. To survive drought and fire, their roots run much deeper than cool season grasses, creeping down four to six feet or more. This adaptation allowed warm season grasses to recover from heavy grazing by large Pre-Anthropocene mammals. Today, it makes them ideal plants for soil stabilization.A male Indigo Bunting has already found ripe seeds among the heads of flowering Big Bluestem.Look closely and you’ll see our Indigo Bunting is beginning a pre-migration molt out of its bright-blue breeding (alternate) plumage and into a gray-brown winter (basic) plumage. The berries of the American Pokeweed upon which it is perched will soon ripen into a dark blue, almost black, color. Though toxic to humans, these fruits find favor with many species of birds and mammals.Another great wildlife food is Silky Dogwood (Cornus amomum), a deciduous shrub that sports blue-colored berries in summer and showy, bright-red twigs in winter. It grows well in wet ground along streams and ponds, as well as in rain gardens.A Great Blue Heron searches the shallows for small fish. This species is also a good mouser, at times seen hunting in grassy meadows. Right now is prime time to see it and a variety of other herons and egrets throughout the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed.
…so don’t let the summertime blues get you down. Grab a pair of binoculars and/or a camera and go for a stroll!
Have you purchased your 2023-2024 Federal Duck Stamp? Nearly every penny of the 25 dollars you spend for a duck stamp goes toward habitat acquisition and improvements for waterfowl and the hundreds of other animal species that use wetlands for breeding, feeding, and as migration stopover points. Duck stamps aren’t just for hunters, purchasers get free admission to National Wildlife Refuges all over the United States. So do something good for conservation—stop by your local post office and get your Federal Duck Stamp.
Your Federal Duck Stamp is your admission ticket for entry into many of the country’s National Wildlife Refuges including Bombay Hook National Wildlife Refuge on Delaware Bay near Smyrna, Delaware.
Still not convinced that a Federal Duck Stamp is worth the money? Well then, follow along as we take a photo tour of Bombay Hook National Wildlife Refuge. Numbers of southbound shorebirds are on the rise in the refuge’s saltwater marshes and freshwater pools, so we timed a visit earlier this week to coincide with a late-morning high tide.
This pair of Northern Bobwhite, a species now extirpated from the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed and the rest of Pennsylvania, escorted us into the refuge. At Bombay Hook, they don’t waste your money mowing grass. Instead, a mosaic of warm-season grasses and early successional growth creates ideal habitat for Northern Bobwhite and other wildlife.Twice each day, high tide inundates mudflats in the saltwater tidal marshes at Bombay Hook prompting shorebirds to move into the four man-made freshwater pools. Birds there can often be observed at close range. The auto tour route through the refuge primarily follows a path atop the dikes that create these freshwater pools. Morning light is best when viewing birds on the freshwater side of the road, late-afternoon light is best for observing birds on the tidal saltwater side.A Great Blue Heron at high tide on the edge of a tidal creek that borders Bombay Hook’s tour route at Raymond Pool.Semipalmated Sandpipers stream into Raymond Pool to escape the rising tide in the salt marsh.More Semipalmated Sandpipers and a single Short-billed Dowitcher (Limnodromus griseus) arrive at Raymond Pool.Two more Short-billed Dowitchers on the way in.Recent rains have flooded some of the mudflats in Bombay Hook’s freshwater pools. During our visit, birds were often clustered in areas where bare ground was exposed or where water was shallow enough to feed. Here, Short-billed Dowitchers in the foreground wade in deeper water to probe the bottom while Semipalmated Sandpipers arrive to feed along the pool’s edge. Mallards, American Avocets, and egrets are gathered on the shore.More Short-billed Dowitchers arriving to feed in Raymond Pool.Hundreds of Semipalmated Sandpipers gathered in shallow water where mudflats are usually exposed during mid-summer in Raymond Pool.Hundreds of Semipalmated Sandpipers, several Short-billed Dowitchers, and some Forster’s Terns (Sterna forsteri) crowd onto a mud bar at Bear Swamp Pool.A zoomed-in view of the previous image showing a tightly packed crowd of Semipalmated Sandpipers, Forster’s Terns, and a Short-billed Dowitcher (upper left).Short-billed Dowitchers wading to feed in the unusually high waters of Raymond Pool.Short-billed Dowitchers, American Avocets, and a Snowy Egret in Raymond Pool. A single Stilt Sandpiper (Calidris himantopus) can been seen flying near the top of the flock of dowitchers just below the egret.Zoomed-in view of a Stilt Sandpiper (Calidris himantopus), the bird with white wing linings.American Avocets probe the muddy bottom of Raymond Pool.Among these Short-billed Dowitchers, the second bird from the bottom is a Dunlin. This sandpiper, still in breeding plumage, is a little bit early. Many migrating Dunlin linger at Bombay Hook into October and even November.This Least Sandpiper found a nice little feeding area all to itself at Bear Swamp Pool.Lesser Yellowlegs at Bear Swamp Pool.Lesser Yellowlegs at Bear Swamp PoolA Greater Yellowlegs at Bear Swamp Pool.A Caspian Tern patrolling Raymond Pool.The chattering notes of the Marsh Wren’s (Cistothorus palustris) song can be heard along the tour road wherever it borders tidal waters.This dome-shaped Marsh Wren nest is supported by the stems of Saltwater Cordgrass (Sporobolus alterniflorus), a plant also known as Smooth Cordgrass. High tide licks at the roots of the cordgrass supporting the temporary domicile.By far the most common dragonfly at Bombay Hook is the Seaside Dragonlet (Erythrodiplax berenice). It is our only dragonfly able to breed in saltwater. Seaside Dragonlets are in constant view along the impoundment dikes in the refuge.Red-winged Blackbirds are still nesting at Bombay Hook, probably tending a second brood.Look up! A migrating Bobolink passes over the dike at Shearness Pool.Non-native Mute Swans and resident-type Canada Geese in the rain-swollen Shearness Pool.A pair of Trumpeter Swans (Cygnus buccinator) as seen from the observation tower at Shearness Pool. Unlike gregarious Tundra and Mute Swans, pairs of Trumpeter Swans prefer to nest alone, one pair to a pond, lake, or sluggish stretch of river. The range of these enormous birds was restricted to western North America and their numbers were believed to be as low as 70 birds during the early twentieth century. An isolated population consisting of several thousand birds was discovered in a remote area of Alaska during the 1930s allowing conservation practices to protect and restore their numbers. Trumpeter Swans are slowly repopulating scattered east coast locations following recent re-introduction into suitable habitats in the Great Lakes region.A Great Egret prowling Shearness Pool.A Snowy Egret in Bear Swamp Pool.Wood Ducks in Bear Swamp Pool.A Bombay Hook N.W.R. specialty, a Black-necked Stilt and young at Bear Swamp Pool.
As the tide recedes, shorebirds leave the freshwater pools to begin feeding on the vast mudflats exposed within the saltwater marshes. Most birds are far from view, but that won’t stop a dedicated observer from finding other spectacular creatures on the bay side of the tour route road.
Bombay Hook National Wildlife Refuge protects a vast parcel of tidal salt marsh and an extensive network of tidal creeks. These areas are not only essential wildlife habitat, but are critical components for maintaining water quality in Delaware Bay and the Atlantic.The shells of expired Atlantic Horseshoe Crabs were formerly widespread and common among the naturally occurring flotsam along the high tide line on Delaware Bay. We found just this one during our visit to Bombay Hook. Man has certainly decimated populations of this ancient crustacean during recent decades.As the tide goes out, it’s a good time for a quick walk into the salt marsh on the boardwalk trail opposite Raymond Pool.Among the Saltmarsh Cordgrass along the trail and on the banks of the tidal creek there, a visitor will find thousands and thousands of Atlantic Marsh Fiddler Crabs (Minuca pugnax).Atlantic Marsh Fiddler Crabs and their extensive system of burrows help prevent the compaction of tidal soils and thus help maintain ideal conditions for the pure stands of Saltwater Cordgrass that trap sediments and sequester nutrients in coastal wetlands.A male Atlantic Marsh Fiddler Crab peers from its den.Herons and egrets including this Great Egret are quite fond of fiddler crabs. As the tide goes out, many will venture away from the freshwater pools into the salt marshes to find them.A Green Heron seen just before descending into the cordgrass to find fiddler crabs for dinner.A juvenile Clapper Rail (Rallus crepitans crepitans) emerges from the cover of the cordgrass along a tidal creek to search for a meal.Glossy Ibis leave their high-tide hiding place in Shearness Pool to head out into the tidal marshes for the afternoon.Great Black-backed Gulls, Herring Gulls, and possibly other species feed on the mudflats exposed by low tide in the marshes opposite Shearness Pool.An Osprey patrols the vast tidal areas opposite Shearness Pool.
No visit to Bombay Hook is complete without at least a quick loop through the upland habitats at the far end of the tour route.
Indigo Buntings nest in areas of successional growth and yes, that is a Spotted Lanternfly on the grape vine at the far right side of the image.Blue Grosbeaks (Passerina caerulea) are common nesting birds at Bombay Hook. This one was in shrubby growth along the dike at the north end of Shearness Pool.These two native vines are widespread at Bombay Hook and are an excellent source of food for birds. The orange flowers of the Trumpet Vine are a hummingbird favorite and the Poison Ivy provides berries for numerous species of wintering birds.The Pileated Woodpecker is one of the numerous birds that supplements its diet with Poison Ivy berries. The tree this individual is visiting is an American Sweetgum (Liquidambar styraciflua), a species native to the Atlantic Coastal Plain in Delaware. The seed balls are a favorite winter food of goldfinches and siskins.Finis Pool has no frontage on the tidal marsh but is still worth a visit. It lies along a spur road on the tour route and is located within a deciduous coastal plain forest. Check the waters there for basking turtles like this giant Northern Red-bellied Cooter (Pseudemys rubiventris) and much smaller Painted Turtle.The White-tailed Deity is common along the road to Finis Pool.Fowler’s Toads (Anaxyrus fowleri) breed in the vernal ponds found in the vicinity of Finis Pool and elsewhere throughout the refuge.The National Wildlife Refuge System not only protects animal species, it sustains rare and unusual plants as well. This beauty is a Turk’s Cap Lily (Lilium superbum), a native wildflower of wet woods and swamps.Just as quail led us into the refuge this morning, this Wild Turkey did us the courtesy of leading us to the way out in the afternoon.
We hope you’ve been convinced to visit Bombay Hook National Wildlife Refuge sometime soon. And we hope too that you’ll help fund additional conservation acquisitions and improvements by visiting your local post office and buying a Federal Duck Stamp.
Visitors stopping by Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area this week found yet another post-breeding wanderer feeding in the shallows of the main lake and adjacent pond along Hopeland Road—a juvenile Little Blue Heron.
The juvenile Little Blue Heron is a white bird resembling an egret during its first year. At about one year of age, it begins molt into a deep blue adult plumage. Young birds are notorious for roaming inland and north from breeding areas along the Atlantic coast and throughout the south. They are a post-breeding wanderer nowhere near as rare as the Limpkin seen at Middle Creek a week ago; a few are found each summer in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed.
A juvenile Little Blue Heron currently at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area. Note the yellow legs and pale beak, field marks that help separate this species from the Great Egret and Snowy Egret.
As oft times happens, birders attracted to see one unusual bird find another in the vicinity. So with fall shorebird migration ramping up, the discovery of something out of the ordinary isn’t a total surprise, particularly where habitat is good and people are watching.
A Hudsonian Godwit (Limosa haemastica) has arrived on mudflats at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area.
The arrival of a Hudsonian Godwit is not an unheard of occurrence in the lower Susquehanna region, but locating one that sticks around and provides abundant viewing opportunities is a rarity. This adult presumably left the species’ breeding areas in Alaska or central/western Canada in recent weeks to begin its southbound movement. Hudsonian Godwits pass through the eastern United States only during the autumn migration, and the majority fly by without being noticed along a route that mostly takes them offshore of the Mid-Atlantic States.
The Hudsonian Godwit (right) at Middle Creek W.M.A. feeding with other migrating shorebirds…a Lesser Yellowlegs (top) and a Least Sandpiper (left).To probe the muddy bottom for invertebrates, Hudsonian Godwits will often wade in deeper water than accompanying species.This godwit seemed to be capturing small snails, presumably the young of the thousands of adult Acute Bladder Snails (Physellla acuta) seen here covering the surface of the mud. This species of air-breathing freshwater snail is tolerant of low levels of dissolved oxygen and is frequently the only mollusk found in polluted waters of the lower Susquehanna valley.For feeding shorebirds, the young snails may be more edible than the adults due to their fragile shells. Small birds like the Least Sandpiper may also be consuming the gelatinous egg masses. In North America, the Acute Bladder Snail was believed to be an introduced species from Europe. DNA testing has now determined that it is actually a native species that was instead transported into Europe from North America early in the nineteenth century or before. Locally, the snails were known as Physella heterostropha and were thought to be native. However, the recent genetic tests have shown Physella heterostropha and Physella integra, a snail first described by Lancaster County naturalist Samuel S. Haldeman, to be synonyms of Physella acuta. Click the “Freshwater Snails” tab at the top of this page to learn more about these mollusks.The Hudsonian Godwit at Middle Creek W.M.A., you may never get a better look!
Mid-summer can be a less than exciting time for those who like to observe wild birds. The songs of spring gradually grow silent as young birds leave the nest and preoccupy their parents with the chore of gathering enough food to satisfy their ballooning appetites. To avoid predators, roving families of many species remain hidden and as inconspicuous as possible while the young birds learn how to find food and handle the dangers of the world.
But all is not lost. There are two opportunities for seeing unique birds during the hot and humid days of July.
First, many shorebirds such as sandpipers, plovers, dowitchers, and godwits begin moving south from breeding grounds in Canada. That’s right, fall migration starts during the first days of summer, right where spring migration left off. The earliest arrivals are primarily birds that for one reason on another (age, weather, food availability) did not nest this year. These individuals will be followed by birds that completed their breeding cycles early or experienced nest failures. Finally, adults and juveniles from successful nests are on their way to the wintering grounds, extending the movement into the months we more traditionally start to associate with fall migration—late August into October.
For those of you who find identifying shorebirds more of a labor than a pleasure, I get it. For you, July can bring a special treat—post-breeding wanderers. Post-breeding wanderers are birds we find roaming in directions other than south during the summer months, after the nesting cycle is complete. This behavior is known as “post-breeding dispersal”. Even though we often have no way of telling for sure that a wandering bird did indeed begin its roving journey after either being a parent or a fledgling during the preceding nesting season, the term post-breeding wanderer still applies. It’s a title based more on a bird sighting and it’s time and place than upon the life cycle of the bird(s) being observed. Post-breeding wanderers are often southern species that show up hundreds of miles outside there usual range, sometimes traveling in groups and lingering in an adopted area until the cooler weather of fall finally prompts them to go back home. Many are birds associated with aquatic habitats such as shores, marshes, and rivers, so water levels and their impact on the birds’ food supplies within their home range may be the motivation for some of these movements. What makes post-breeding wanderers a favorite among many birders is their pop. They are often some of our largest, most colorful, or most sought-after species. Birds such as herons, egrets, ibises, spoonbills, stilts, avocets, terns, and raptors are showy and attract a crowd.
While it’s often impossible to predict exactly which species, if any, will disperse from their typical breeding range in a significant way during a given year, some seem to roam with regularity. Perhaps the most consistent and certainly the earliest post-breeding wanderer to visit our region is the “Florida Bald Eagle”. Bald Eagles nest in “The Sunshine State” beginning in the fall, so by early spring, many of their young are on their own. By mid-spring, many of these eagles begin cruising north, some passing into the lower Susquehanna valley and beyond. Gatherings of dozens of adult Bald Eagles at Conowingo Dam during April and May, while our local adults are nesting and after the wintering birds have gone north, probably include numerous post-breeding wanderers from Florida and other Gulf Coast States.
So this week, what exactly was it that prompted hundreds of birders to travel to Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area from all over the Mid-Atlantic States and from as far away as Colorado?
Birders observing something special at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area on July 10, 2023.
Was it the majestic Great Blue Herons and playful Killdeer?
Great Blue Heron and a Killdeer.
Was it the colorful Green Herons?
Green Heron
Was it the Great Egrets snapping small fish from the shallows?
Great Egret
Was it the small flocks of shorebirds like these Least Sandpipers beginning to trickle south from Canada?
Least Sandpipers
All very nice, but not the inspiration for traveling hundreds or even thousands of miles to see a bird.
It was the appearance of this very rare post-breeding wanderer…
A Limpkin at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area in Lancaster County. The Limpkin (Aramus guarauna) is the only surviving member of the family Aramidae.
…Pennsylvania’s first record of a Limpkin, a tropical wading bird native to Florida, the Caribbean Islands, and South America. Many observers visiting Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area had never seen one before, so if they happen to be a “lister”, a birder who keeps a tally of the wild bird species they’ve seen, this Limpkin was a “lifer”.
The Limpkin is an inhabitant of vegetated marshlands where it feeds almost exclusively upon large snails of the family Ampullariidae, including the Florida Applesnail (Pomacea paludosa), the largest native freshwater snail in the United States.
In the United States, the native range of the Limpkin lies within the native range of the Florida Applesnail, shown here in gold. Introduced populations of the snail are shown in brown. (United States Geological Survey Nonindigenous Aquatic Species image)A spectacular nineteenth-century rendition of the Florida Applesnail, including an egg mass, illustrated by Helen E. Lawson in Samuel S. Haldeman’s “Monograph of the Freshwater Univalve Mollusca of the United States”.
Observations of the Limpkin lingering at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area have revealed a pair of interesting facts. First, in the absence of Florida Applesnails, this particular Limpkin has found a substitute food source, the non-native Chinese Mystery Snail (Cipangopaludina chinensis). And second, Chinese Mystery Snails have recently become established in the lakes, pools, and ponds at the refuge, very likely arriving as stowaways on Spatterdock (Nupharadvena) and/or American Lotus (Nelumbo lutea), native transplants brought in during recent years to improve wetland habitat and process the abundance of nutrients (including waterfowl waste) in the water.
The Chinese Mystery Snail is the largest freshwater snail in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed. (Vintage 35 mm image)By hitching a ride on aquatic transplants like this Spatterdock, non-native freshwater snails are easily vectored into new areas outside their previous range.Spatterdock, a native species also known as Yellow Pond Lily or Cow Lily, flowering in August.Blooming American Lotus transplants in a pool at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area during August.The Limpkin at Middle Creek W.M.A. capturing a Chinese Mystery Snail.The Limpkin at Middle Creek carrying a Chinese Mystery Snail.The Limpkin is seen here maneuvering the the snail in its bill, a set of mandibles specially adapted for extracting the bodies of large freshwater snails from their shells.The tweezers-like tip of the bill is used to grasp the shell by the rim of the opening or by the “trapdoor” (operculum) that protects the snail inside.A posed Chinese Mystery Snail showing its “trapdoor”, the operculum protecting the soft body tissue when the animal withdraws inside. The tips of the Limpkin’s bill close tightly like the end of a tweezers to grasp the operculum and remove it and the snail’s body from the shell. (Vintage 35 mm image)The tweezers-tipped bill, which is curved slightly to the right in some Limpkins, is slid into the shell to grasp the snails body and remove it for consumption. The entire extraction process takes 10 to 30 seconds.
The Middle Creek Limpkin’s affinity for Chinese Mystery Snails may help explain how it was able to find its way to Pennsylvania in apparent good health. Look again at the map showing the range of the Limpkin’s primary native food source, the Florida Applesnail. Note that there are established populations (shown in brown) where these snails were introduced along the northern coast of Georgia and southern coast of South Carolina…
Native (gold) and non-native (brown) ranges of the Florida Applesnail. (United States Geological Survey Nonindigenous Aquatic Species image)
…now look at the latest U.S.G.S. Nonindigenous Aquatic Species map showing the ranges (in brown) of established populations of non-native Chinese Mystery Snails…
Range (in brown) of established populations of non-native Chinese Mystery Snails. (United States Geological Survey Nonindigenous Aquatic Species image)
…and now imagine that you’re a happy-go-lucky Limpkin working your way up the Atlantic Coastal Plain toward Pennsylvania and taking advantage of the abundance of food and sunshine that summer brings to the northern latitudes. It’s a new frontier. Introduced populations of Chinese Mystery Snails are like having a Waffle House serving escargot at every exit along the way!
Be sure to click the “Freshwater Snails” tab at the top of this page to learn more about the Chinese Mystery Snail and its arrival in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed. Once there, you’ll find some additional commentary about the Limpkin and the likelihood of Everglade Snail Kites taking advantage of the presence of Chinese Mystery Snails to wander north. Be certain to check it out.
The endangered Everglade Snail Kite (Rostrhamus sociabilis plumbeus), a Florida Applesnail specialist, has survived in part due to its ability to adapt to eating the non-native Pomacea maculata applesnails which have become widespread in Florida following releases from aquaria. The adaptation?…a larger body and bill for eating larger snails. (National Park Service image)
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.”
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)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 there 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. (Vintage 35 mm image)A Royal Tern (Thalasseus maximus) along the Gulf of Mexico shore at Boca Chica Beach. (Vintage 35 mm image)Least Terns are a sand-nesting species, thus are vulnerable to disturbances created by recreational use of beaches. (Vintage 35 mm image)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.
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.
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.
A Green Heron in vegetation alongside the Falcon Dam spillway.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.
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?
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 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)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.
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.
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)
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.
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)
This linear grove of mature trees, many of them nearly one hundred years old, is a planting of native White Oaks (Quercus alba) and Swamp White Oaks (Quercus bicolor).
Imagine the benefit of trees 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?
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…
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.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.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.An American Robin feeding on Common Winterberry.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 in the shade beneath a canopy of tall trees.The Common Pawpaw a small shade-loving tree of the forest understory.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.The Buttonbush is a shrub of wet soils. It produces a round flower cluster, followed by this globular seed cluster.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, 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 pools, but it is predominately a protectorate 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). Witnessing thousands of these birds rising over the marsh and glowing in the amber light of a setting sun is an unforgettable experience.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.
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.
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.
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.CLICK ON THE LOGO FOR TODAY’S MIGRATION COUNT TOTALS
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
