Migration Road Trip – Louisiana Surprises

April 3^rd – 14^th, 2024 ~ We were continuing our road trip to Dauphin Island, Alabama, investigating new birding locations along the spring migration Central Flyway and Mississippi Flyway.

Sabine Wetlands Walkway, courtesy of the Walkway’s website

The Sabine Wetlands Walkway sounded promising. It has a high bird species count on eBird, and I appreciate the particular philosophy of wetlands, immense flat marshy lands typically cut by wandering bayous only a foot or so deep, with such dense grass and reed growth that rainwater runoff is actually filtered and cleaned before it makes its way to the ocean. Wetlands are typically great bird habitats because those same dense grasses and reeds provide excellent cover and seed forage.

But this was not our day. We watched a large alligator motoring his way down the ditch. We watched numerous Common Grackles and Red-winged Blackbirds dodge in and out of the reeds. I heard an Ibis at some distance, invisible in the reeds. We shared our mosquito repellent with a family whose excited youngsters were all about the gators. Ok. Sometimes chicken, sometimes feathers.

Cypress with their feet in the water, Lake Martin, phone photo

After spending the night in Lafayette, we headed for the Cypress Island Preserve on Lake Martin. The intriguingly named Rookery Road has been closed since 2017 due to hurricane damage. Most disappointingly, the levee path around the lake which would have taken us past the rookery was also closed. But we were able to see a few birds among the feathery green cypress.

Scarlet sentinel, adult male Northern Cardinal
1/2500 sec. f/5.6 ISO 1600
Nikon D850 with Nikkor 600mm f/4 + 1.4x TC (850mm total)

I think every place we stopped throughout our trip featured radiant red male Northern Cardinals, Cardinalis cardinalis, proclaiming their breeding territory from the trees. And that makes sense… they don’t migrate. They stay within their range through thick and thin, snow and sleet, ice, rain and hurricane. And their color remains bright all year, as the outer downy gray feather endings wear off through their intense breeding season activity.

Adult male Prothonotary Warbler in a speck of sunlight
1/2500 sec. f/5.6 ISO 1600
Nikon D850 with Nikkor 600mm f/4 + 1.4x TC (850mm total)

The fresh new cypress fronds made the scenes in the trees misty-green, and I was lucky to be able to focus between them for a split second for a glimpse of a Prothonotary Warbler, Protonotaria citrea. You might recognize “citrea” in their binomial name as another form of “yellow”, this time without the hint of green seen in the Hooded Warbler from my previous post. This is rich Cadmium Yellow, warm and glowing.

Even the birds have to bend in contortions to see through the branches
1/2500 sec. f/5.6 ISO 1600
Nikon D850 with Nikkor 600mm f/4 + 1.4x TC (850mm total)

He gave me one more partial view before he hopped up to continue hunting bugs in the massive cypress, whose fronds were festooned with spider’s webs and caterpillar bags, attesting to the plentiful population of insects at the edge of the lake. Our short walk was over and we headed back to the truck.

Boy Scout Road Trail boardwalk, courtesy of Google Maps Street View

The Big Branch Marsh National Wildlife Refuge covers 18,000 acres of cypress, pine and tupelo forest, grassy marshland, and a wonderful landscape new to me, the pine savannah. The land here is flat marshy grass, cut by wandering very shallow and slow-moving waterways. Towering above the marsh grasses are tall slender widely-spaced bare-trunked pine trees, which allow plenty of sunlight for the grasses.

The landscape screenshot is a “street view” of the path, created by the Google Maps camera on a bicycle, rolling down the boardwalk. I geeked out when I found it, and was especially pleased, because I had totally failed to take a phone photo of the landscape for you.

Immature male Red-winged Blackbird
1/2500 sec. f/5.6 ISO 2500
Nikon D850 with Nikkor 600mm f/4 + 1.4x TC (850mm total)

The marsh grasses were full of Red-winged Blackbirds, Agelaius phoeniceus. Many of the babies have already fledged (grown their first flight feathers), and I was eager to see this “teenager” up close. The dull browns of his highly-camouflaged grade-school outfit are being replaced by the deep satiny black of his adult plumage, and his wing badges are already visible. There was a bit of a breeze, and he kept his balance on the slender stalk by repeatedly tucking his tail under.

Eastern Kingbirds, Tyrannus tyrannus, were also numerous, but they seemed to prefer the higher perches. Way up in a pine tree, not much more than a smudge above the branch, I saw a bird that appeared to have an extraordinarily long decurved bill. Long lens to the rescue. It was an Eastern Kingbird that had captured a dragonfly. With practiced ease, he smushed its thorax, repeatedly tossed it in the air to reposition for more smushing, then gulped it down.

Gallery of Eastern Kingbird with dragon fly
1/2500 sec. f/5.6 ISO 2500
Nikon D850 with Nikkor 600mm f/4 + 1.4x TC (850mm total)

You can speed through the gallery to get past the tasty bits, and can double-click on any photo to see it closer to original size.

Handsome Eastern Kingbird, looking quite satisfied with himself
1/2500 sec. f/5.6 ISO 2500
Nikon D850 with Nikkor 600mm f/4 + 1.4x TC (850mm total)

As I was standing on the walkway panting from my exertions holding the long lens fastened on the Kingbird, I became aware of some crazy-loud honking-croaking sounds. It was definitely a bird, and the sound was coming from very near the boardwalk. I whipped out Merlin while Hubby used his binoculars to scan the grassy verge of the marsh, not 9 feet away from us. Camera up and ready, I backed up (in a rare moment of clarity), knowing that I have a minimum focusing distance of 10 feet. The sounds clearly indicated the bird was moving, and was within feet of us, but he was still invisible. At last Hubby said “I’ve got it! I’ve got it!” Following his gaze, I found a russet brown blur in my lens, and backed up two more steps.

He was so close. Just. Right. There!
1/2500 sec. f/5.6 ISO 2500
Nikon D850 with Nikkor 600mm f/4 + 1.4x TC (850mm total)

After all the excitement, this is what I got. Yep, another butt-shot. This is a Clapper Rail, Rallus crepitans, identified partly by his coloring, and mostly by Merlin, the phone app that listens to bird calls and identifies the bird responsible. His white tail, flicking up like a white flag, was easy to follow when he headed deeper into the grass, but that highly-figured tan-russet-brown pattern made him nearly impossible to see while he was walking parallel to the boardwalk.

Here is the call we heard, from Xeno Canto, the citizen-science website for collecting bird calls (currently at 10488 species, 95% of the total 11082 known bird species, world-wide).

Range maps for the Northern Cardinal, Prothonotary Warbler, Red-winged Blackbird, Eastern Kingbird, and Clapper Rail, courtesy of All About Birds.

The range maps show a wide variation in migratory patterns. The Northern Cardinal is a year-round resident. Most Clapper Rails don’t migrate, but a few, up close to Massachusetts, do. The Red-winged Blackbird is a short-distance migrant, meaning the distributed population just consolidates a bit when the cold weather hits. The Eastern Kingbird and Prothonotary Warbler have differentiated ranges, with areas clearly populated only as they are passing through.

Wings flutter above a Cajun delicacy
1/2500 sec. f/5.6 ISO 2500
Nikon D850 with Nikkor 600mm f/4 + 1.4x TC (850mm total)

As we walked back to the truck, we passed a small stand of thorny-looking thistles, swarming with butterflies. This is a Palamedes Swallowtail, papilio palamedes. It is very similar to a Black Swallowtail, but has yellow stripes along his abdomen, while the Black Swallowtail has yellow spots.

Adventure lurks in the humblest photograph: I looked up the name of the thistle that had the butterflies so excited. It is the Bristly Thistle, Cirsium horridulum, what the Cajuns call “Chadron”, from the French “Chardon”. It’s a Cajun springtime tradition to harvest the young plants that haven’t yet bloomed, then peel and munch on the raw young thistle stalks – sort of like celery. Who knew?!

What a marvelous end for this short visit to the unique, birdy and surprising state of Louisiana. Next stop, Alabama!