Getting Through March

Bell Ridge Wildlife and Environmental Area

There are plenty of times in life when you know you just need to get through one thing because something better is going to be on the other side.  For a birder here in northern Florida, that would apply to March.  April and the promise of spring migration are just ahead, but first you have to get through March.  As you'll see, I had some good luck ... and some not so good luck ... but I staggered through it.

On Thursday, March 16, and again on the following Saturday, I led field trips that could be described as decidedly mixed.  Both featured terrific people and the fun associated with great conversation and camaraderie; neither had an abundance of birds.  The Thursday trip was to Little Orange Creek Preserve, the same place that Rex and I scouted a couple of weeks earlier.  This time the temperature was in the middle thirties, cold indeed for Florida.  Only five people showed up, but they were a cheerful gang, and we laughed and chatted for at least three hours.  Here's a photo of some of the group:

Braving the cold: Jerry, Judy, Tina and Sally.  Emily was somewhere behind me.

The cold and the wind kept the bird population hunkered down, but one intrepid vocalist picked a high perch and sang out for the world to hear his sweet song:

Brown Thrasher at Little Orange Creek.

On Saturday I led the Bolen Bluff field trip for Alachua Audubon.  It got off to a rocky start when the ranger neglected to open the gate.  Forty-seven minutes and a polite phone call later, we finally got into the parking lot.  Bird-wise the trip went downhill from there.  It was still cold, there were no migrants in sight, and even the local residents were unwilling to show themselves.  Eventually we got all the way to the observation deck on the prairie where we saw a Red-tailed Hawk in the distance.  A few vultures flew over and two Bald Eagles made an appearance, but not much more.  I only got one photograph of a bird, the American Robin pictured below.  It was the last Robin I saw before they all headed north for the spring and summer.

The last American Robin of winter.

"Hey, Bob, you said this was a bird walk, right?  Where are the birds?"

My run of pleasant days spent with few birds continued on the 19th.  I drove out to Worthington Springs, a small, rural community in nearby Union County.  Chastain-Seay Park sits on the border between Alachua and Union counties, and I've always loved spending time there.  Unfortunately, a major storm a few years ago destroyed most of the boardwalks and made the others somewhat dangerous to use.  As a result, I haven't visited the park in over a year.  So I was thrilled to find all of the boardwalks repaired and perfectly safe.

One of the boardwalks at Chastain-Seay Park

Four hours flew by while I walked every path and boardwalk I could find.  I was nearly alone in the park (one couple enjoying themselves in the back seat of a car in the woods notwithstanding), so I could soak up the lush spring greenery, the smells of new foliage, the singing of Cardinals and Wrens, and the gurgling of the river below.  I only had about 20 species including five woodpeckers, but I thoroughly enjoyed myself.  I'll be back there again soon.

This Yellow-bellied Sapsucker at Chastain-Seay Park wouldn't hold still long enough for a clear photo.

A day later I spent some time at San Felasco Hammock State Park (Progress Park entrance) in Alachua.  I was pressed for time, but wanted to check out what once was an active sparrow field.  Maybe it was just too late in the season, but I found nothing except some Eastern Bluebirds and this Eastern Phoebe.

An Eastern Phoebe checking me out.  Maybe it thought I might attract some flies?

On March 21 I decided I was ready for something new.  I drove out to Gilchrist County and the new Bell Ridge W. E. A.  Ron Robinson told me about the place and assured me that I'd like it.  As always, Ron was right.  As you can see from the photo at the top of today's blog, Bell Ridge is dominated by Longleaf Pines, scattered palmettos, and tall wire grass that whispers with the breeze.  Currently, the loop trail is just over three miles long, but additional side trails are in the works.  The day was bright and crisp and the sounds of raucous Red-headed Woodpeckers filled the air.

Red-headed Woodpecker at Bell Ridge.  Not a great photo, but a spectacularly beautiful bird.

 Blue Jays darted from tree to tree, Pine Warblers busied themselves looking for food, and Eastern Towhees sang out seemingly from every palmetto or thicket.

The Eastern Towhee used to be called the Rufus-sided Towhee.  I like the old name.

I quickly tallied nearly all of the expected species associated with a pine forest except for nuthatches.  As far as I know, none have been found in the park so far.  However, the true objective for the day was to find a Bachman's Sparrow.  Well, that was easy.  I found them in about a half dozen places, and they popped up and posed for me over and over again.  I'm not sure it gets any better than a cool, brilliantly clear day and a spectacular view of a singing Bachman's Sparrow.

Bachman's Sparrow at Bell Ridge

Two days later it was my turn to lead the weekly bird walk at Sweetwater Wetlands.  I really enjoy these trips because they often include people who have never visited a wetland area and people who are not birders or just starting out.  It gives me the chance to see the world through fresh eyes.  This particular week I had a really large crowd of 28 people.  Thankfully, Kim, one of the rangers in the park, was an enormous help, taking a large chunk of the group with her for much of the morning.

Any day at Sweetwater is wonderful, but two funny things happened that made this one memorable.  Almost as soon as we reached the boardwalk we saw an American Bittern out in the open and just below our feet.  I told everyone how lucky we were to find them.  Bitterns can be very secretive and hard to see.  Getting a clean look at one is really a treat and kind of rare.  Just as I finished a young boy said, "There's another one right here."  I looked, and sure enough, there was a second.  I began to exclaim over having two when I was interrupted by a woman saying, "Isn't that one right there too?"  Yes, a third American Bittern was visible at the same time!  I shrugged, looked at the person next to me, and said, "Yeah, they're as common as Starlings."

One of three American Bitterns we could see at the same time at Sweetwater Wetlands Park in Gainesville

At the end of the walk I thanked everyone for coming and urged them all to come back again as the park seems to change from one day to the next.  One participant sadly commented that we hadn't seen a Purple Gallinule during the walk.  I nodded knowingly and said, "They're not here yet, but within a week or two and you should be able to find several."  The gang broke up and headed to the parking lot, but I wanted one more look at the closest pool.  I walked out onto the boardwalk and ...

Purple Gallinule at Sweetwater Wetlands Park in Gainesville.

As my buddy Rex pointed out, it was within a week or two, so I wasn't completely wrong!

So, birding can be a humbling experience at times.  No, change that.  Birding is often a humbling experience, and just when you think you know something, the birding gods whack you upside the head with a two by four.  Here's a case in point.  On March 30, I drove over to Cedar Key hoping for some cool shorebirds or early migrants.  As always, Cedar Key had birds everywhere, but mostly they were the same ones I'm used to seeing in the same places I'm used to seeing them.  For example, there is almost always a Willet feeding along the closest edge of the water at Shell Mound, and there it was again:

Willet at Shell Mound: The usual bird in the usual spot.

So when I saw a small bird dive into the marsh grass on the other side of the boardwalk, I assumed it would prove to be either a Marsh Wren or a Nelson's Sparrow.  I spished a bit, the bird cooperated and hopped into the open.  I snapped a photo of what I was sure was the expected Nelson's Sparrow.  Later that day I posted the photo to Facebook and a sharp-eyed Matt Hafner (one of the best birders I know) pointed out my error.  The bird was actually a Saltmarsh Sparrow, a bird I've only seen on Florida's Atlantic coast.  The differences between the two species are subtle but I should have seen the important field marks right away.  Thanks to Matt, I added a new bird to my Levy County list (#234!).

Saltmarsh Sparrow at Shell Mound near Cedar Key in Levy County

 The day and the month were capped off with a delightful little scene that I was privileged to witness.  I was birding along one edge of the cemetery grounds in Cedar Key when I saw a male Red-bellied Woodpecker land on a dead tree near what appeared to be a nest hole.  He drummed on the tree once, turned his head to look over his shoulder, and called out to the trees behind him.  Immediately, another Red-bellied answered.  Satisfied, the male crawled into the hole and disappeared.  A few minutes later, a female Red-bellied flew to the same spot and drilled lightly on the trunk.  Within a second or two, the male stuck his head out and looked at her.  Seeing that she was his mate, he took off into the trees, and she popped into the hole.  In my mind, it played out like this ...

He flew to the hole, tapped on it and called, "Honey, I'm going inside to check on the eggs!"

She answered, "Okay, I'll be right there!"

Soon she flew to the hole and gently tapped, "It's me, babe!"

He looked out and smiled, knowing that all was well, and flew off to take up the hunt for food.

How can you not feel blessed to witness such a touching scene involving these beautiful birds?

Red-bellied Woodpecker domestic bliss.  He took his place inside and waited for her.

Another March is in the books.  For the month I tallied 112 species with only 95 of them inside Alachua County.  For the year, I was up to 168 species in Florida with 128 of them in Alachua County.  But now it's on to April.  Bring on migration!!