We’ve seen worse, but this winter has been particularly tough for birds and mammals in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed. Due to the dry conditions of late summer and fall in 2024, the wild food crop of seeds, nuts, berries, and other fare has been less than average. The cold temperatures make insects hard to come by. Let’s have a look at how some of our local generalist and specialist species are faring this winter.
House Sparrows (bottom) and House Finches (top) are generalists. To survive and thrive, they are adapted to a variety of habitats and types of food. House Sparrows live almost anywhere man-made structures are found. They are true omnivores and will eat almost anything, especially if they see something else try to eat it first. The House Sparrow’s close association with humans has allowed it to become the most widespread and successful living avian dinosaur. On a cold night, they’ll take shelter either within dense vegetation alongside a building or within the structure itself. Though not nearly as cosmopolitan, the House Finch has successfully colonized much of the eastern United States after escaping from captivity as a cage bird in New York during the middle of the twentieth century. Upon being trans-located here from the arid southwest, they adapted to suburbs and farmlands consuming primarily a granivore diet of seeds supplemented with seasonally available berries. They quickly became accustomed to offerings at bird-feeding stations as well. To survive the harsh winters in the northern sections of their range, eastern populations of House Finches are developing a pattern of migration. These movements are most evident in late fall when dozens or sometimes hundreds can be seen heading south over regional hawk-counting stations.Though they require dead trees for nesting and as places to find the grubs and adult insects upon which they primarily feed, woodpeckers including the Northern Flicker are generalists, seldom passing by a supply of fruits like these Poison Ivy berries as a source of winter food. Flickers regularly visit suburban areas where they’ll drop by at bird-feeding stations for suet. During the warmer months, they are the woodpecker most frequently seen on the ground where swarms of ants garner their full attention.The Pileated Woodpecker is seldom found outside of mature forests where it digs relentlessly to remove grubs and other infestations from dead wood. But it is not a true specialist……it too finds a supply of Poison Ivy berries to be indispensable during a cold winter day.The Ruby-crowned Kinglet is a generalist, feeding mostly on insects, but also consuming small seeds and some berries, including those of Poison Ivy. It nests well to our north in tall spruces and other evergreens. During migration and in winter, the Ruby-crowned Kinglet may be found in deciduous trees, brush, and tall grass in habitats ranging from forests to parks and suburbia. This male is displaying its seldom-seen red crown.The Golden-crowned Kinglet, seen here on a Poison Ivy vine, is more of a specialist than the Ruby-crowned species, though the two will often occur in mixed groups during the winter. The Golden-crowned Kinglet nests in Spruce-Fir forests and in conifers within mixed woodlands. Even during migration, and particularly in winter, these birds are seldom found far from a stand of large evergreens within which they find shelter for the night.The Hermit Thrush’s generalist lifestyle allows it to survive cold season weather in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed. During summer, it breeds in coniferous and mixed woods from the northern parts of our valley north into Canada and feeds primarily on worms, insects, and other arthropods. During migration and in winter, the Hermit Thrush becomes a regular visitor to deciduous forests, woody parks and suburbs, particularly where a supply of wild berries is available to supplement its diet.Iconic as it pulls earthworms from lawns during the warmer months, the generalist American Robin is fully dependent upon a crop of berries to survive winter conditions in the lower Susquehanna valley. The drought afflicted wild food crop of 2024 has led to fewer robins spending the season here and has delayed the northward push of migrating birds until the ground thaws and the earthworms make the ground rumble once again.It’s insects for the nestlings during spring and summer, then berries through the winter for the cheerful Eastern Bluebirds, another generalist species.American Crows are an excellent example of a generalist species. They’ll go anywhere to find food and they’ll eat almost anything. Like the House Sparrow and several other generalists, they adapt very well to human activity and actually thrive on it. Garbage anyone?Another career generalist is the widely worshiped White-tailed Deity, a species adapted to nearly all man-made landscapes with adequate vegetation upon which to browse. Pushed to the limit during severe weather, some individuals will consume carrion and even resort to cannibalism.You might think the Great Blue Heron is a specialist. Nope, it’s an accomplished generalist. Great blues will live, feed, and breed on almost any body of fresh or brackish water. And their diet includes almost anything that swims. In winter, you’ll even see them in fields hunting mice and voles.The Red-shouldered Hawk is a generalist with a diet ranging from amphibians and reptiles to small rodents and large insects. Mostly regarded as a species of bottomlands, they’ll frequent woodland edges, roadsides, and suburbia during the winter months.During its periodic winter visits to the region, the American Tree Sparrow feeds on seeds among the grasses and forbs of semi-open country with scattered short shrubs and trees. A generalist species, it will show up at backyard bird-feeding stations, particularly during periods of inclement weather. In summer, the American Tree Sparrow nests in tundra with growths of stunted willows and spruce and their diet includes insects as a source of protein for themselves and their young.The White-crowned Sparrow has similar winter habitat preferences to the tree sparrows……it becomes adaptable and something of a generalist when searching for food during bad winter storms.The Savannah Sparrow is an omnivore favoring insects in summer and seeds in winter. Though very closely tied to its grassland habitat year-round, snow cover can push these birds to enter woodier environs to consume fruits like these rose hips.Dusk and dawn during the short days of winter are the prime hunting times of a mammal specialist, the Short-eared Owl. Its presence in the lower Susquehanna valley is dependent on two dominant factors: extensive grassland habitat and an adequate population of the owl’s favored food, the Meadow Vole (Microtus pennsylvanicus). The Short-eared Owl’s requirements as a specialist species make finding a suitable place to live difficult. Unlike the generalist birds and mammals that often adapt to the widespread man-made disturbances in the region, populations of specialists frequently become fragmented, reduced in abundance, and subject to extirpation.The Meadow Vole is a generalist rodent that can be abundant in grasslands, early successional growth, fallow fields, marshlands, and, of course, meadows. They are primarily herbivores, but will occasionally consume insects and other arthropods. Usually nocturnal, some individuals venture out along their surface runways during daylight hours becoming vulnerable to diurnal raptors including kestrels, harriers, and buteos.A Short-eared Owl in near darkness patrolling a grassland for Meadow Voles.The eastward expansion of the Coyote (Canis latrans), a species of western North America’s grasslands and scrublands, and its progressive mixing with the Wolf (Canis lupus) in these eastern extensions of its range, has produced an expanding population of very adaptable generalists we call Eastern Coyotes (Canis latrans var.). These omnivorous canines colonized the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed during the last four decades to replace extirpated wolves as the top-tier natural predator in the region. Their primary diet includes Meadow Voles in grasslands and other small mammals along woodland edges and in successional habitats. Seasonally, they consume the berries of numerous wild plants. Slightly larger than their western ancestors, Eastern Coyotes with the admixture of Wolf genetics can subdue small ungulates. Like other apex predators, they are attracted to vulnerable prey and thus play a crucial role in culling the weak and diseased among their potential quarry species to assure the health and potential of populations of these species as long-term sources of food energy. The benefit to the prey species is however largely diluted in populous areas of the northeast; most venison consumed by Eastern Coyotes here is in the form of road kill. During periods of extended snow cover when small rodents and other foods become inaccessible, Eastern Coyotes, particularly young individuals, will wander into new areas seeking sustenance. Sometimes they venture into cities and suburbs where they explore the neighborhoods in search of garbage and pet foods placed outside the home. (Video clip courtesy of Tyler and Grace Good. Click image to view.)
Wildlife certainly has a tough time making it through the winter in the lower Susquehanna valley. Establishing and/or protecting habitat that includes plenty of year-round cover and sources of food and water can really give generalist species a better chance of survival. But remember, the goal isn’t to create unnatural concentrations of wildlife, it is instead to return the landscape surrounding us into more of a natural state. That’s why we try to use native plants as much as possible. And that’s why we try to attract not only a certain bird, mammal, or other creature, but we try to promote the development of a naturally functioning ecosystem with a food web, a diversity of pollinating plants, pollinating insects, and so on. Through this experience, we stand a better chance of understanding what it takes to graduate to the bigger job at hand—protecting, enhancing, and restoring habitats needed by specialist species. These are efforts worthy of the great resources that are sometimes needed to make them a success. It takes a mindset that goes beyond a focus upon the welfare of each individual animal to instead achieve the discipline to concentrate long-term on the projects and processes necessary to promote the health of the ecosystems within which specialist species live and breed. It sounds easier than it is—the majority of us frequently become distracted.
Being an individual from a population of a very successful generalist species is no guarantee of survival. This Eastern Gray Squirrel fell from a tall tree when the limbs became ice covered during a storm earlier this month. Just a freak accident? Maybe, but mistakes like this are often fatal in the natural world. This squirrel’s passing may seem brutal, but it provides a better opportunity for other squirrels and animals that share its food and cover requirements to make it through the winter. And those survivors that didn’t suffer such a fatal mistake or, more importantly, don’t possess a vulnerability that may have contributed to such a mishap will have a chance to pass those traits on to a new generation. This squirrel as an individual is gone, its species lives on, and may be stronger for its passing.Pennsylvania Game Commission crews maintain a grassland ecosystem for Short-eared Owls and other specialists using prescribed fire to prevent succession beyond its earliest stages. Among the additional specialist species benefiting from this management tool are Monarchs and other butterflies whose host plants survive early-season fire, but not competition with woody vines, shrubs, trees, and invasive herbaceous growth.
On the wider scale, it’s of great importance to identify and protect the existing and potential future habitats necessary for the survival of specialist species. And we’re not saying that solely for their benefit. These protection measures should probably include setting aside areas on higher ground that may become the beach intertidal zone or tidal marsh when the existing ones becomes inundated. And it may mean finally getting out of the wetlands, floodplains, and gullies to let them be the rain-absorbing, storm-buffering, water purifiers they spent millennia becoming. And it may mean it’s time to give up on building stick structures on tinderbox lands, especially hillsides and rocky outcrops with shallow, eroding soils that dry to dust every few years. We need to think ahead and stop living for the view. If you want to enjoy the view from these places, go visit and take plenty of pictures, or a video, that’s always nice, then live somewhere else. Each of these areas includes ecosystems that meet the narrow habitat requirements of many of our specialist species, and we’re building like fools in them. Then we feign victimhood and solicit pity when the calamity strikes: fires, floods, landslides, and washouts—again and again. Wouldn’t it be a whole lot smarter to build somewhere else? It may seem like a lot to do for some specialist animals, but it’s not. Because, you see, we should and can live somewhere else—they can’t.
The Allegheny Woodrat (Neotoma magister), a threatened species in Pennsylvania and a critically imperiled species in Maryland, is a habitat specialist requiring the forested rocky slopes, talus-flanked ridgetops, and caves of the Ridge and Valley Province for its nest sites and survival. Isolated populations survived within similar environs in the lower Susquehanna River valley’s Piedmont Province and on South Mountain through at least the first half of the twentieth century, but have since been extirpated. Human encroachment that fragments their habitat and promotes exposure to parasite-hosting mammals including the Raccoon (Procyon lotor), carrier of the Raccoon Roundworm (Baylisascarius procyonis), could prove fatal to remaining populations of this native mammal. (National Park Service image by Rick Olsen)The American Oystercatcher (Haematopus palliatus) is a specialist species that uses its highly adapted bill to feed on marine invertebrates including mollusks, few of which are actually oysters. Reliant upon tidal ecosystems for its survival, many of the seashore animals that make up this wader’s diet are themselves specialist species. Oystercatchers spend nearly their entire lives in tidal marshes or within the intertidal zone on beaches. They also frequent rocky jetties, particularly during high tide. This individual was photographed near the mouth of Chesapeake Bay in Northhampton County, Virginia, a location that, when the waters of the Atlantic started rising over 10,000 years ago, was the lower Susquehanna valley about 60 miles from the river’s mouth at present-day Norfolk Canyon along the edge of the continental shelf. Get the drift?
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.
