Würdemann's ist Wunderbar

Saturday morning, Maureen and I led a field trip at Maureen's old stomping grounds, at Skidaway Island State Park, where she worked as a naturalist throughout much of last summer. With migration in full swing, we were hoping to grow our county lists with some Neotropical visitors. Waking up to an ominous weather forecast, we moderated our expectations a bit, but fortunately, we needn't have. 

 

Before we even got past the nature center and onto the main trails, we had already ticked a flyover Whimbrel and picked up a FOTY Painted Bunting, along with a brilliant male Ruby-throated Hummingbird at the hummingbird feeder.

  

A little farther along we came across a singing male Summer Tanager. Initially, he was hidden in the foliage of a short, dense tree right off the path, but as our group crowded around for better looks he was happy to oblige us. He came out a bit to a more open area, and gradually came closer and closer until he was practically right above us. Talk about a soul-satisfying view!

Walking through a particular marshy area, it's common to hear Clapper Rails all around. The first call we heard, though, sounded to the lot of us like its regal cousin, the King Rail. After some patient waiting, and after enticing it out with some playback, it finally appeared at the edge of the grass. It was definitely drab all over, and lacked the more heavy streaking that you'd expect more of a King Rail. Maureen's camera had died by this point, but I was able to record the call on my phone. So, what's more likely, a Clapper Rail that sounds like a King Rail, or a King Rail that looks like a Clapper Rail?

 

These were all good birds for the day, and we were already pretty happy with ourselves, but we were about to come upon a real show-stopper. The Skidaway Narrows, a waterway that runs alongside Skidaway Island, is a good place to pick up shorebirds, loons, and waders. We arrived at low tide, and along the exposed mud of the riverbank was a Great Blue Heron. The heron immediately struck us as being like no other GBHE we've seen, what with it's extremely pale/whitish head and neck, including a long white crest plume instead of the typical dark blue crest and plume. and brownish-gray neck. Our impression: Würdemann's Heron, the rare form of Great Blue that's intermediate to Great Blue and "Great White" Heron. These are rare enough in south Florida (we'd never seen one while living there), so seeing one in coastal Georgia was quite a surprise. 

I hadn't thought it would be worth bringing the scope along (big mistake!), so I left everyone waiting while I ran nearly a mile to the car and back, desperately hoping against all hope that the heron would stay put for the duration. By the time I returned, out of breath, but with scope in tow, it had moved to a less open area, after getting spooked by a series of passing speedboats. Nevertheless, it was good enough for some quickly digiscoped photos before it disappeared behind a muddy bank. It would briefly reappear a half-hour later, allowing some friends of ours to hightail their way to the park in time to see it, before it flew off for good. 

  

It may not have been a new species for anyone, but it was certainly very exciting to see an exceptionally uncommon variation of an otherwise common bird. It's also notable for producing the following effect: Next time to see me, wherever it is, expect to see me carrying a spotting scope.

You took a wrong turn at the Arctic

As Nick wrote in an earlier post, Georgia has been having some crazy rare birds visiting us. And we have been very fortunate that many of them have not been very far of a drive. Our latest, and probably greatest, sightings have been a Northern Lapwing, a rare visitor from Europe, and a Snowy Owl, a rare visitor from the tundra.

Northern Lapwing 

 (All photos here of the Northern Lapwing are iPhonescoped).

A graduate student was taking a group of undergraduate students out on a field trip to some farmland out in Statesboro to look for some shorebirds that might hang out in the grasses and mud. One of the undergrads pointed out that one bird especially stuck out as being quite different than the others, and when the graduate student got a good look at it, she knew she had something special.

Frontal view of his thick, black breast band

Here, in a random farm in a random town in Georgia, appeared a super rare Northern Lapwing. This just goes to show that there is no telling when and where something extraordinary will show up.

Enjoying other beautiful birds while viewing the Northern Lapwing, such as this lovely Yellow-throated Warbler

Pine Warbler looking tough on the barbed wire

iPhonescoped photo of an American Pipit. Several of them were in the same field as the Lap

And speaking of extraordinary… The Snowy Owl. I had started to feel left out when it seemed like EVERYONE was seeing a Snowy Owl last winter when the super breeding season pushed owls beyond their northern territories. And after we dipped on the Snowy Owl on St. Simons this past December, I was feeling like I had missed my chance.

Snowy Owl peeking up from his slumber 

Sleepy Snowy

But then here came along a Snowy Owl practically at our back door on Tybee Island. And he’s been sticking around the past couple of weeks. Birders from near and far are flocking to see him (pun intended). Just about everybody, birders and nonbirders alike, are excited to see this awesomely amazing bird. Everybody loves an owl! The only ones who aren’t so happy are the fired up crows and the shorebirds that the Snowy has been picking off for dinner.

A wink ;) and a smile

Crows harassing the Snowy Owl

The crows are not afraid to get close to the Snowy Owl with their raucousness

What’s funny is that about a week before we had seen him, I had raised the question to Nick, “What was the best bird you saw last year?” Of course, we both agreed that it was the Black-headed Gull we found. But I threw in a side note that it would have been a toss up if we had found the Snowy Owl. 

The only photo of the Snowy Owl here that was not iPhonescoped. Pretty nice lighting in those awesome wings, if I do say so myself. =)

And whataya know? The Snowy Owl decided to grace us with his presence and make it a super difficult game of “What has been the best bird we have seen this year?” With all these rarities practically falling at our feet, it’s definitely hard to choose. For the sheer rarity, I would say the Northern Lapwing. For sheer majestic beauty, I would say the Snowy Owl. But luckily I’m not a real judge in a real contest. They’re all wonderful to me! 

You Must Be Lost

Georgia has had an embarrassment of riches lately, with some pretty outstanding birds making their way either farther north, south, or east than usual. Maureen and I aren't the most spirited chasers, but some birds are just too good or too close to pass up.

Our winning streak (winging streak?) started a few weeks ago with a Tundra Swan at Altamaha Wildlife Management Area. It was the same weekend that the Georgia Ornithological Society had its seasonal meeting on Tybee Island, and this concentration of the state's top birders into the area was leaving no rarity unreported. We met a GOS field trip while we were there and, since we had little idea where the swan actually was in this expansive system of impoundments, we tagged along with them. The swan was right where it had been seen during the previous days though, and gracefully fed and preened until we finally walked away contented.

Tundra Swan -- Believe it or not, the swan photos are all phonoscoped

Tundra Swan

Tundra Swan

That very evening a Western Kingbird was spotted at Ft. Pulaski, just 10 minutes from our apartment. We had literally just changed after returning from the swan when we got the call. We were totally spent from a long morning, and pretty set on a nap, so as painful as it was, we decided to put it off until the next day, hoping for the best. And our plan paid off beautifully. Several other birders arrived at the same time, just after the gates opened, and we split up to maximize our coverage. It was relocated low in a tree after about 45 minutes of searching, and gave mostly semi-obscured looks. As more and more birders streamed in, though, the kingbird started acting more like the star attraction it was. Planting itself right on top of a cistern, out in the open, as we all crowded around in adoration. And he loved every second of it, letting us soak him in until everyone had their fill.

Western Kingbird

Western Kingbird

Western Kingbird

Then last weekend, we made our way to Savannah National Wildlife Refuge (confusingly, across the river in South Carolina) to find a reported Cinnamon Teal. It had been fairly reliably found between mile markers 2 and 2.5, and sure enough, it was right there, doing a terrible job of hiding amongst the hundreds of Green-winged Teal. The teal, like the Tundra Swan, was a lifer for us, and we couldn't help but remark on the aptness of the name. It's just so -- cinnamon!

Cinnamon Teal

But our luck didn't end there. The very next day (a Monday, no less), we got a third-hand scoop about a Snowy Owl on Tybee Island. I was just leaving work, when Maureen told me she had a voicemail from our friend Diana that was almost too good to be true. A Snowy Owl (the same one?) had been seen on St. Simon's Island in December, and we spent a significant portion of my birthday trying to track it down, to no avail. Now here it was, just 15 minutes away! Unfortunately, the sun was fading fast and we still had to pick up our gear. It was already dusk by the time we parked, but how hard can it be to pick out a bright white bird? Not very. We stepped out of the car, turned around, and saw a shape silhouetted against the sky. Literally the first thing we looked at was the Snowy Owl. Even in the dark, it was breathtaking.

Snowy Owl -- phonoscoped at night

We woke up early the next morning before work, to try and see it in the daylight, but to no avail. (Diana Churchill has some great shots up on her blog, though). Hopefully, this doesn't mean our streak is at an end. A Northern Lapwing (!), Georgia's first on record, is relatively nearby, in Statesboro. Man, that's a crazy good bird. Hang on, lapwing, we're coming!

Dawn sky over the pier

It's hard to get too upset about missing the Snowy when we got to see a sunrise like this before work

Sunrise over Tybee Island

Jaeger Shots!

Just this past week, an out-of-town birder who visited the Savannah area reported seeing an odd bird on the shore of North Beach of Tybee Island that he didn't figure out what it was until after he had returned home. And lo and behold, he had found a most unusual bird indeed - a Pomarine Jaeger!

Pomarine Jaeger with his foot sticking out

Pomarine Jaeger on Tybee Island

This bird isn't odd to find in this part of the country. However, it is extremely odd to find it on shore! These hefty birds are almost always found offshore, flying powerfully out over the ocean waters. What probably brought this bird inland was a problem with its left eye which was clearly injured and/ or infected somehow.

 

A close-up view of the injured/infected left eye

Left eye can't open

Another look at his left eye

Knowing that we'd probably never see a Pomarine Jaeger, or any jaeger for that matter, this up-close, we went over to re-locate it on Tybee in the early evening after I got off of work as we knew that most beach-goers would be gone for the day on this summer weekend. We trekked through the sand as we have many times before, and just at the bend of the shore where we have found many shorebirds, gulls and terns, there lay the lone jaeger, so sweet and peaceful.

Pomarine Jaeger preening

A look at the twisted tail

Pomarine Jaeger

We watched him as we inched up ever so slowly and cautiously towards him. "Regular" beach-goers (those not outfitted with binoculars, a camera, and a scope) walked right past him and he didn't flinch, so we decided to move in closer and get some better looks and shots of him. He seemed as calm as a cucumber and didn't seem to mind our presence. We figured he must have gotten used to it with all of the beach visitors that come and go. And he probably figured no one was really interested in him, except for these odd creatures approaching him with large black lenses.

As we gazed upon him, we relished admiringly over its mighty bill and beautiful face and physique. As we came around the side of him, we saw that very distinctive long and twisted central tail feather, clinching its identity along with its dark malar and lack of pale crescent at the base of its bill as in the Parasitic Jaeger. On his other side, his beauty was slightly blemished only by his wonky left eye which you could see was not able to open entirely. The poor thing had to turn the right side of his face upward in order to see what was going on above him.

Pomarine Jaeger had an itch, so he turned over on his side to scratch it!

Jaeger looking up with his good right eye

We had heard from other local birders that had previously re-located the bird that it could fly. And after about an hour at the beach, Nick witnessed the jaeger take a short burst of flight to move about 100 feet from where we originally spotted it. So although the bird is able to fly, his eye is keeping him grounded. We know that one other birder has contacted a rehabber to try to pick up the bird, but they did not have success in re-locating him. We, too, are trying to reach out to see if anyone can try to come back and get him. We've been told that rehabbing ocean birds can be very difficult, so the fate of this awesome bird is unknown at this time. But we have hope for him yet.

Farewell and good luck to you, Mr. Jaeger