By the time you are reading this, I will hopefully be back home from our southern migration. I guess technically I should refer to it as completing our northern migration. This year has been a bit chaotic on the birding front. Our January trip to Arizona netted me over 23 new lifers, but at a cost. Not being in Texas put me over 100 bird species behind for the year – shows you just how good birding is in Texas! We made a quick decision to right the ship and head back to our favorite wintering destination. There are still a lot of misses on the checklist, but did manage to claw back a lot of that deficit bringing me to the exact same point as last year with 272 species for the young 2024 Even managed to pull out three new lifers with one being a first time ever recorded in the US – going to make you wait until those get posted to reveal those gems. To be honest, our timing was not ideal. Probably a week or so early on the birds reaching South Padre Island. High Island was completely dead beyond the rookery residents (guessing 10-14 days early on that location as well). No complaints as there is now plenty of fodder to carry us well into next year (who am I kidding, with my backlog, probably inching into 2026 ha).
One thing that continues to bring a smile is how awesome the Texas birders are (including our fellow winter Texans). Always willing to help get you on a bird, give advice on other hotspots or answer any questions. Proud to say we reacquainted with existing birding friends and made a lot of new ones on this trip. On the downside, I also had three of the most inconsiderate people encounters we have had in a long time (non-birders of course). I can’t tell if this is just isolated cases, the state of the media stoked polarized country or the after-effects of the pandemic, but wow. Intrigued was actually founded as a means to document my human observations and these will definitely get their day in ink – likely on the mothership where the non-wildlife entries are anchored. I may not have yellow eyes like today’s featured feathered friend, but I can assure you my eyes are on constant scan.
Hit the jump to read more about this equally observant bird of prey.
I was thinking about those three “human” encounters as I was searching through the galleries looking for a good topic. Came across this Osprey series – the first shot in particular and immediately decided – yep, that’s the one. Suspect that same look was replicated on my face as I watched those rude encounters play out – especially the one where the individual decided to come at me while threatening me. You are either ignorant or overly confident if you choose to do that to somebody – ESPECIALLY in Texas. Ironically, that would be the same assessment for any bird that would dare to come close to this Osprey with dinner in claw.
One thing for sure, nothing was going to sneak up on this particular specimen. For 20 minutes I stood a safe distance away observing and snapping this killing machine. The fascinating part was it didn’t make any motions to fly off or consume the catch. It literally stood there for nearly the entire time just looking left, right, behind, front an up, almost daring some fellow sand flat visitor to challenge it. This included occasional glances in my direction while wiggling its talons just in case my welcome was overplayed.
Near the end of the 20 minutes or so, the Osprey walked over to a nearby tide puddle. Maybe the fish needed a washing or possibly a clever way to hide its prize from another Osprey that was calling some distance behind me. Looked back thinking mate, but that other specimen made just a few calls and eventually circled well beyond us and then lost contact. Turning back, noticed a Dunlin come into the frame. This did not go unnoticed by the Osprey who proceeded to raise its head feathers up and sternly proclaiming “You, yes you droopy billed varmint, you want some of this (again wiggling its talons) – I’ll make you dessert!” Well, that is what I took from its rather curt whistle.
To its credit, the Dunlin really didn’t react to the shot across the bow and just kept “sewing” the sand. Miffed at the clear lack of respect for its AUTHORITAAAY, the Osprey decided to take flight. The change in light conditions caught me off-guard and I had to bring this shot back in the digital darkroom – really liked the pose as you could see those wicked sharp weapons on the right leg as it deftly kept hold of its prize while maintaining a watchful eye on the skies.
I should note, this series was taken on the South Padre Island conventions center flats in January 2023. This recent visit to the flats were not as productive as the tide was pretty high. For those familiar with the flats, there was probably only 100 yards of visible sand out from the entrance. The expected Gulls, Peeps, Black Skimmers, Sanderlings, Turnstones and Dowitchers were hanging out, but none of prized Plovers that were there in 2023 (Semipalmated, Snowy, Piping etc.). Still one of the best places to be with the one you love, enjoy a beverage and watch a beautiful sunset to cap another incredible day.
Found this extra picture in the gallery and decided to throw it in as well. This one was taken at the Aplomado Falcon Viewing Platform near Laguna Vista – a few miles up from SPI on the mainland. Another Osprey with a fine catch. Just in case you might not be aware, as a general rule, Ospreys carry their catches parallel to their bodies contrasted with Bald Eagles that carry theirs perpendicular to the body. Always a good tip when trying to distinguish the two from a distance.
Will put a bow on it there. Almost home now and we are both pretty exhausted from the long travel days. Enjoy the eclipse tomorrow if you happen to be in an area where it is visible – Brad is heading to a more southern viewing area and can’t wait to hear his account. Stay tuned for those lifers and likely those human behavior stories.
Life Intrigued 