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Posted by Hawker on 08:30:08 10/31/07
Thursday had been a bust. New axels and u-joints for the old T-bird had made my wallet lighter by a grand and a half.
It had been a long and depressing day, and I craved a reprieve. The 12 X 42 Vortexes were in the trunk, sunset wasn t far off, and Loxahatchee NWR was nearby.
I rolled into Arthur Marshall at six, parking in the far western lot, climbed the levee and observation tower and began glassing. I quickly picked up a Florida phased red shoulder, and saw two harriers hunting low on the dike s grassy margins. Long trails of white and glossy ibis, tri colors, and little blues were streaming in from the north and east. They spun in tight circles and dropped abruptly into their roosts. As the sun neared the horizon, it passed behind a far off thunderhead, gilding just the edges of the cloud in gold. The sky above the marsh turned a bright and bold blue in the declining light and the lightly clouded sky was now populated by crisp, sooty silhouettes. They were stiff gliders, working with precision in the light breeze. Some were coming in from high and others from just above the tops of the willows. They flew in as singles, doubles and small flocks, more than forty of them; they were what I had come to for --- snail kites on their way home for the night.
From the corner of my eye I caught another flight of birds. As I turned to get a better view, they rose up, banked, and the spoonbills then dropped as a group into the trees just in front of the kites.
The contrast in colors diminished as darkness began to prevail. Another day had passed for the birds and me, and tomorrow would surely be better.
Friday, Saturday, and Sunday I was attending an automobile performance driving course at Buckingham Field east of Fort Myers. When packing for this trip I included all the essential gear; helmet, driving shoes, Brian Reposa s Birding Florida , Peterson Guide, and binoculars.
Saturday night after a long day on the track I headed back to the motel, showered, and opened Brian s book to the Fort Myers section. I saw that one of my Holy Grail animals was within striking distance, and if the bird was cooperative, I could still make it to the track before Sunday morning check in.
I arrived at Babcock-Webb long before sun up and was greeted by a long line of swamp buggies; deer season is now open. I walked up to the check station and introduced myself as a birder to a volunteer working the hunt. I asked him if he could help me out. Let me get a map for you, he said. He pointed his work hardened finger to a crossroads. Go yonder, take the turn off to left past the gun range, drive a quarter mile up the road and you will see some pines with white rings painted around the trunks. That s where they'll be.
I pulled off the narrow road far as I dared, and set up a station beside the pine cluster. I leaned against the car and scanned the moonlit pines continuously. Day break began, and I could hear the crack of firearms, but so far no birds. As the sun dawned brighter, the pines came alive with feeding warblers and bluebirds. I tried my best to ignore them. Occasionally a red-bellied would fly in or sandhills would cry overhead, but I put them out of my mind. The bird activity intensified and I was still without my animal. Maybe they have abandoned these nests, was a thought that kept crossing my mind. The bird numbers began to decline, and I was about to give up hope and head down to the track, when something flew in from my left and landed in the closest pine. I snapped the binoculars up quickly, and I had my first ever red-cockaded in sharp view. It lingered, pecking lightly on a knot. Once I had the first one in the bag I walked down the road checking for more of the endearing little creatures in the other marked trees.
On my way out I stopped at the check station to thank my benefactor. As I approached and before I could say a word, he asked in his Cracker drawl, Did you see one? I held up three fingers. He shook my hand firmly. From his response you would have thought I shot the biggest buck of the season. Thanks for the help, I really appreciate it, was my reply.
I entered the race track happy and inspired, but I had to prep up quickly to get to the staging area on time. I really started to get behind, when I began looking at the fence line and the trees surrounding the facility. I quickly picked out a red-tailed and could hear sandhills clattering in the distance. Between runs I was glassing more raptors. During breaks I asked some to the track workers if they would like to see the hawks through my binoculars. It came to point when I would drive into the pits after a pass and someone would walk up and say, I saw this big old hawk being chased by this little tiny bird over by the oaks, or There is a pair of big birds with long necks, walking around making a horrible racket across that field. It sure makes it easier to get people interested in birding once you allow them to try it with good optics.
The day ended up being exceptionally good for both racing and for birding.
Since my luck was soaring, I hit Everglades National Park Monday morning before daybreak. I saw very little on Research Road, or Old Ingraham Highway. Lucky Hammock however was abuzz with a load of warblers; unfortunately I am no good at identifying them by species. The usual kestrels and northern harriers were also present along with twelve sandhills in three different groupings, a duce, a four, and a six.
From ENP I headed south to Hawk Watch International s outpost at Little Crawl Key. The hope was to pick up a lifer Swainson s hawk. No problem at all for John van Dort and Cole Wild the official observers for HWI. They found a few Swainson s for me, along with peregrines, sharp-shinneds, broadwings, merlins, kestrels, ospreys, a short tailed, chimney swifts, and frigatebirds. The wind picked up briskly after noon, the hawk numbers dropped, and I was back on 1 bearing north, stopping at Lucky Hammock to do some drive by birding. I was scanning the newly tilled fields, when I noticed something sitting on the ground in the open. I thought it was harrier with a kill until it jumped into the air. It was peregrine. It barely was airborne, when suddenly another peregrine came hurtling in to view. There was a clash of talons and a spectacular display of air to air conflict in the Vipers before they parted ways.
Hawk Watch International s last day for the 2007 count at Curry Hammock State Park is November 6. If you are a raptor fan, spending a little time or a whole day with John and Cole, is a very rewarding, and informative experience.
Thanks Brian for writing your book. You are rapidly making my life list longer, and my Holy Grail list a lot shorter. I still need a whopper, a Mississippi kite, a flamingo, a panther, an Everglades mink and a leatherback sea turtle.
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