Cullinan Resurgence

May 1^st, 2024 ~ You might remember the summer drought along the upper Gulf Coast last year. We’d been short on rain since 2017. We mourned the lost ponds and waterways, and worried about the birds in and around the disappearing estuaries. But Nature is always surprising, and usually resilient. We’ve had above-average rainfall (including some fairly intense storms) this spring, and the lakes are filling back up. I visited Cullinan Park, normally a wetland wonderland, but nearly dried to a mud-cake waste last year, to see how it was doing. The water is back!

Limpkin at Cullinan Park
1/2500 sec. f/6.3 ISO 1000
Nikon D850 with Nikkor 600mm f/4 + 1.4x TC (850mm total)

The air was split by the loud high-pitched calling of multiple birds. Meooowwww. It sounded like a pair of gigantic tomcats facing off. But it was just a pair of Limpkins, Aramus guarauna, gracefully stepping through the water growth, sometimes a bit off-balance as the water turned out to be deeper under the obscuring plants than they thought. Nestlings were observed here on White Lake in April, but Limpkins can raise up to three broods in a season; these are adults, so this could be a mated pair, perhaps working on a second brood.

One of the pair drifted a bit further away, his head feathers dripping from repeated dowsing. Those incredibly long toes are great for making their way across the surface of the tangled water weeds, and also for feeling the stout round Apple Snails, Ampullariidae, their preferred prey, on the clay bottom. Apple snails are an invasive species, crowding out native snails. Our small but growing Limpkin population followed the apple snail invasion along the Gulf Coast from Florida, about 5 – 8 years ago. The “new” of the Limpkins still hasn’t worn off for me – I love catching a glimpse of their streamlined olive-brown bodies and sweet faces.

Immature Little Blue Heron, showing off his blues
1/2500 sec. f/5.6 ISO 1000
Nikon D850 with Nikkor 600mm f/4 + 1.4x TC (850mm total)

This immature Little Blue Heron, Egretta caerulea, was celebrating the lake’s renewal with careful footsteps through the hyacinth-covered water, in search of small fish, amphibians and crustaceans. His adult slate-blue feathers are growing in to replace the juvenile pure white feathers that allowed him to spend his childhood hiding in plain sight among mixed groups of other adult white wading birds (Great Egret, Snowy Egret, Cattle Egret, and White Ibis). 

Indigo and turquoise feast for the eyes
1/2000 sec. f/6.3 ISO 1000
Nikon D850 with Nikkor 600mm f/4 + 1.4x TC (850mm total)

A Purple Gallinule, Porphyrio martinica, stepped across the water weeds, his tail repeatedly flashing its brilliant white underside. I used to think that this tail-flicking was a warning device, and perhaps a distraction to predators who might be convinced to snap at the tail instead of the head. All that may be true, but having read about the white tail flashes of the Hooded Warbler’s hunting technique, I wonder if the Gallinule might be flashing his tail in order to startle his prey of insects and small water creatures into moving, revealing their positions.

Hunting for a snack…
1/2000 sec. f/6.3 ISO 1000
Nikon D850 with Nikkor 600mm f/4 + 1.4x TC (850mm total)

I caught this Gallinule mid-tail-flash, and also mid-blink. His nictating eyelid is drawn half across his eye. His Family name, Porphyrio, means “purple”, and this family includes ten species with variations on his vibrant color combination.

Caught one!
1/2000 sec. f/5.6 ISO 1600
Nikon D850 with Nikkor 600mm f/4 + 1.4x TC (850mm total)

The Purple Gallinule’s bright yellow feet and legs allow it to walk across lily pads as it forages for a meal. The Gallinule is omnivorous, eating a wide variety of water plants, slow insects, and small fish and amphibians. These vivid birds are here in the coastal United States only during their breeding season; the vast majority of this species does not migrate, but spends their life spread across Central and South America. They are accomplished fliers, though, sometimes venturing as far away as Iceland, Switzerland, and South Africa, probably in search of better feeding grounds, in the times when their normal haunts are distressed.

Carolina Chickadee in dim understory
1/2000 sec. f/5.6 ISO 2000
Nikon D850 with Nikkor 600mm f/4 + 1.4x TC (850mm total)

I took a short walk around the east end of White Lake, to check out the new paths built there by the park conservancy. Crossing the low wetland boardwalk, I found this out-spoken little bird with a high-pitched whistle, a Carolina Chickadee, Poecile carolinensis, keeping a sharp eye on the canopy above.

Adult female Northern Cardinal rests for a split second
1/2000 sec. f/5.6 ISO 2000
Nikon D850 with Nikkor 600mm f/4 + 1.4x TC (850mm total)

And just a minute later, a female Northern Cardinal, Cardinalis cardinalis, darted through the low branches with multiple brightly colored males in attendance. I know she’s an adult female, rather than a juvenile, because her bill is bright red; the bill of juveniles is dusty black.

Adult male Anhinga drying his feathers
1/2000 sec. f/5.6 ISO 2000
Nikon D850 with Nikkor 600mm f/4 + 1.4x TC (850mm total)

I returned to the brighter area of the main T-pier, and found a male Anhinga, Anhinga anhinga, showing off in the rattlebushes, sesbania drummondii, at the edge of the water. He posed facing right and then left, then right again, probably drying off between fishing trips. His breeding plumage is still in good shape; his lores (the skin around his eyes) still show hints of bright turquoise, and his mahogany head and neck plumes are still fluffy. So, his family is probably still quite young.

The Limpkins continued probing for snails.
1/2000 sec. f/5.6 ISO 2000
Nikon D850 with Nikkor 600mm f/4 + 1.4x TC (850mm total)

It’s interesting to see the similarities between the Gallinule and the Limpkin. Both are in the Order Gruiformes, but the Limpkin is more closely related to cranes (did you note the Limpkin’s hint of a mini-bustle?) than to gallinules; the word “gruiform” actually means “crane-like”.

Like the water hyacinth, Pontederia crassipes, the white flowers choking the pond are another invasive species, alligator weed, probably Alternanthera philoxeroides. They make an appealing photo, but the densely matted plants cast deep shade crowding out other beneficial terrestrial and water plants, starving animals below the surface. They also slow the flow of water, and speed the accumulation of silt and plant matter, making the lake shallower, and promoting even more invasive plant growth. This is a process called eutrophication, and would, if left unchecked, eventually change the shallow lake into a swamp.

Escargot is on the menu!
1/2000 sec. f/5.6 ISO 2000
Nikon D850 with Nikkor 600mm f/4 + 1.4x TC (850mm total)

The Limpkin found and devoured an apple snail, carrying it about for a bit and pinning it against the shallow bottom several times to get a good grasp on the meat. The occasional pink snail egg clusters in the alligator weed indicate the Limpkins haven’t depleted their food supply just yet. And the Blue Dasher dragonfly just came along for the ride.

I was relieved to find the lake returning to previous water levels, and to find the vibrant (even opportunistic!)  life around it, evidence of the continual ebb and flow of nature.