Fall Break Birding

Read on for four days of migrants and shorebirds, complete with a flamingo and Louisiana’s eighth Tropical Parula

Early October at LSU comes with a brief respite from coursework. We get a fall break, with Thursday and Friday off creating a four day weekend around the same time as midterms. I had plans to bird the southwest coast, hoping a couple huge migration predictions from BirdCast would result in large numbers of passerines in coastal woodlots.

Thursday, though, I opted instead to stay local. My friend Lucas had yet to see the continuing American Flamingo east of New Orleans. Without a car, he didn’t have a way to get out there, and I was more than happy to go see the bright pink celebrity again. The greater New Orleans area also has Timber Rattlesnakes which we were both hopeful would appear. 

Thursday morning, we left Baton Rouge around 6 and embarked on the hour and 40 minute drive to the site, endearingly termed “Flamingo Pond”. We got stuck in traffic and arrived, slightly frustrated, at 8:30 to a pond lacking in the large pink wader department. We birded up and down the roadside pond, hoping it would fly in, for the better part of 40 minutes. A handful of migrants were hopping through the scrubby woods and Forster’s Terns plunged into the water. A collection of herons and egrets was gathered in the corners of the pond. We had the place to ourselves, unlike the other two times I’d come to see the flamingo. After 40 minutes, we left to bird other parts of New Orleans’ urban wildlife refuge, Bayou Sauvage. I updated the state GroupMe to the flamingo’s absence. 

Our eBird list from Flamingo Pond

We first checked Joe Madere Marsh Overlook, historically a good site for King Rail and other marshbirds. We were unsurprised to find it dry, with only a couple Marsh Rabbits hopping around. The extended and severe drought had dried up all of the other marshes around, too - it was the reason we checked Joe Madere in the first place. The only other life around was about a dozen feral cats huddled around dumpsters and picnic benches in the parking lot. 

After striking out at Joe Madere, we went to check Ridge Trail. We opted instead to head across the street and bird Recovery Road, as Ridge Trail was full of children as part of a class trip. There weren’t a ton of birds, but there were lots of Yellow Warblers. The occasional Magnolia Warbler or redstart was mixed in. I was just telling Lucas that we were at a place where Ash-throated Flycatchers had overwintered in previous years when one started “pip” calling from behind us. We spent a while trying to find it, playing some tapes. It moved closer but didn’t ever pop out. We got sidetracked by another flycatcher, an empid. We waffled over the ID for a while, eventually settling on Least, the expected species at the date, based on its small bill, short wings, and fairly bold eyering. It was flagged on eBird and I was making a half-assed attempt to get photos, still hoping the Ash-throat would pop out, when the bird uttered a soft “whit” and I opted instead to just write a brief description. After a few more minutes, we moved on without having seen the Ash-throat, but knowing there was a good chance we’d see more this fall and winter. 

Our eBird list from Recovery One Rd

Just before we found the flycatchers, I recieved a response to my text about the flamingo’s absence. Jennifer Coulson had it about 5 minutes after we left, which she relayed to the state’s email thread. This highlighted a need to consolidate rare bird information for Louisiana. As of now, info is fragmented between a handful of Facebook groups, a ListServ, a state level GroupMe, and various more local groups. This is frustratingly the case in many states, especially with a large contingent of older birders hesitant to learn new apps. While I was thinking about all this, news broke over the GroupMe of a Cassin’s Sparrow at Peveto Woods. I kicked myself a little bit, for were it not for this flamingo chase, that’s where I would be. It was just the latest in a long string of great vagrants in the Baton Rouge Audubon sanctuary. During my tenure at LSU the preserve has sported our first state record Golden-crowned Warbler, our second Black-capped Vireo, and a host of other state-level rarities. 

We talked it over and decided to finish birding Recovery One before going back for the flamingo. It was largely uneventful, though a couple of Limpkins were nice. This time last year it was quite a tough bird in Orleans parish. Recovery One was historically a great site for ducks and shorebirds. It also held huge numbers of staging Black Terns in the fall. A combination of drought and mismanagement saw the lake dry up and grow in completely with annual grasses and early-successional weedy shrubs. What was once a favorite spot of mine to look through thousands of peeps had become yet another shitty tallow-filled scrubland in just two years. On our way back, we checked the sketchy old metal building on the road for Barn Owls. After striking out, we walked back to the car. We tried again, briefly, to get the Ash-throated Flycatcher to pop out, but it had gotten hot and we weren’t even successful in stirring a cardinal. Then we drove the 10 minutes back to the flamingo, where it was waiting and it had an audience.

I didn’t take any photos this time, so here’s a shot from this first time I made the drive to see this leggy bird

We were also happy to see a juvenile Short-billed Dowitcher with it on the sandbar. After some oohing and awing and socializing with folks from Mississippi, we headed back to Baton Rouge. We stopped to see New Orlean’s resident Monk Parakeets, a stater for Lucas.

Once we got back to Baton Rouge we checked the University Lake for shorebirds. Since a dredging project began this summer, the lake has held some great birds. We had a lot of Yellow Warblers, hundreds of least sandpipers, and a smattering of Western, Stilt, and Pectoral Sandpipers, but nothing unusual. 

The rest of Thursday was lowkey, with some pickup basketball and a couple beers.  I spent Friday morning getting stuff down around the apartment and left for the coast in the afternoon. Nobody had refound the Cassin’s Sparrow but in looking they’d turned up a nice variety of fall migrants, including two Golden-winged Warblers and a continuing Western-like wood-pewee that hadn’t vocalized to confirm its identity unequivocally.

I got to Peveto Woods with about an hour of daylight. Before I’d even stepped out of my car I’d spotted the suspicious pewee. I took some photos and obligatorily played tape of both Western and Eastern Wood-Pewees at it. As expected, the bird didn’t respond at all.

The probable Western Wood-Pewee sporting a muted upper wingbar and a nearly black lower mandible. The overall darkness of the plumage alone is striking.

Then I got to birding my favorite coastal woodlot. First, I made a half-assed attempt at the sparrow, walking around the empty lot adjacent to the Audubon sanctuary where it had been the day before. I was more interested in finding the Golden-winged Warblers, so I spent most of my time birding the interior of the woods. I was happy to see Nashville Warblers, still dapper in their muted fall plumage. Nashvilles are a fairly scarce migrant in Louisiana. In the fall, the majority of them pass to our west. In the spring, most birds favor a circum-gulf migration route. I checked to make sure none of them were tail wagging Western (subspecies ridgwayi) types, the presence of which has never been confirmed in Louisiana (although I’ve had a couple of good candidates in late fall and winter). The woods held lots of other migrants. I enjoyed the subtle splash of yellow on the throat of a Philadelphia Vireo and watched a Wood Thrush skulk through the undergrowth. A Palm Warbler lighted on a branch at my feet, one of my first this fall. A Yellow-throated Warbler followed me down the trail for a while, moving with a loose flock containing Magnolia, Black-and-white, and Black-throated Green Warblers. American Redstarts, perhaps the commonest warbler during early October, were ubiquitous, as were Northern Parulas. Both species sported the full gambit of plumages from shocking males to dull unremarkable first-fall females. Surprisingly there weren’t many Yellow Warblers, in stark contrast with yesterday. Skiens of mostly juvenile White Ibis passed overhead as light faded, as did a smattering of common shorebirds. 
Sometimes, I’ll spend my evenings on the coast playing tape for Chuck Will’s Widow’s and Eastern Whip-Poor-Wills. This evening I’d opted instead to drive some roads a ways inland for snakes. A Cottonmouth was in the road as I was leaving Peveto and it got me excited.

A poor phone pic of the Cottonmouth (Agkistrodon piscivorous)

I was hoping for a Prairie Kingsnake (Lampropeltis calligaster), or really anything. I didn’t have much luck, only seeing a small DeKay’s Brownsake and a Rough Greensnake before the temps dropped into the 60s and I turned in for the night. I saw a couple Barn Owls and a Great-horned on my way back to the beach, both new birds for the day. 
Saturday morning Peveto Woods was my first stop and it was hopping. In two and a half hours I racked up nearly 80 species within the woodlot including 12 warbler species. The highlight for me was a Common Ground Dove in the early morning. The bird flushed up from the pasture on the back end of the woodlot. On bright red wings, it propelled its tiny body to a small patch of Black Willow (Salix nigra) in the pasture. It was a great start to the day; it was only my second one in Louisiana this year and my first ever for Cameron Parish. The beachside of the preserve hosted a flock of 14 Franklin’s Gulls, my first in the state this fall. I always enjoy seeing them among groups of Laughing Gulls. In my opinion, Franklin’s are subtly better than Laughing Gulls in just about every way. 

You can see about a dozen Franklin’s Gulls mixed in with the Laughing Gulls here. Note their smaller bills and fuller dark hoods.

The beach held a few shorebirds and a collection of waders including a white-morph Reddish Egret. Among the shorebirds was a banded Piping Plover, a bird that’s returned for several winters now that was originally banded on the breeding grounds in eastern Montana. 

Turning my attention back to the woods, I spent several minutes photographing a particularly cooperative Black-throated Green Warbler.

I ran into my friends James and Katie who told me they’d had a Mourning Warbler. I spent some time searching but could never locate it, though I’m pretty sure it was the source of a couple distant call notes. Gray Catbirds saturated the woods, with small flocks moving in the Live Oaks. Scissor-tailed Flycatchers decorated the nearby fencelines and flocks of swallows, mostly rough-winged, streamed westbound down the coast. A scaly Inca Dove lighted right in front of me, allowing be to grab some mediocre photos. I enjoyed watching a Yellow-breasted Chat eat a caterpillar and strike off into the thick brush. The small cold front had pushed in my first Lincoln’s Sparrow, Yellow-rumped Warbler, and Ruby-crowned Kinglets of the fall. Feeling satisfied Peveto Woods was covered, I headed to some other woodlots that don’t receive as much love. 

The species composition throughout the woodlots was the same all day. There were surprisingly high numbers of Nashville Warblers. The most common species were Common Yellowthroats, American Redstarts, and Northern Parulas. More fall arrivals like Blue-headed Vireos showed themselves as well. American Kestrels, Merlins, and Broad-winged Hawks were in the skies. I had one Swainson’s Hawk, a pretty adult, on an afternoon thermal. Crested Caracaras were in the fields and on fencelines. Dozens more Scissor-tailed Flycatchers were around and I checked each group carefully for rarer kingbird species (fruitlessly).

I had a couple Wilson’s Warblers and one each of Blue-winged and Prairie. The Prairie was very cooperative and also fairly late, so I took lots of pictures. A Clay-colored Sparrow, my first for the year in Louisiana, popped out briefly as well.

This Prairie Warbler responded to vireo scold calls at a chenier on the side of the highway

The rest of the day yielded some nice birds, including an Olive-sided Flycatcher, and a Kickin’ Shrimp Poboy from my favorite food truck, Anchor’s Up Grill. With the drought, I was able to drive to East Jetty Beach for the first time. Before it was closed to the public by Louisiana Natural Gas Company, the beach and adjacent woods were some of Louisiana’s most productive birding hotspots. While I couldn’t get into the woods, I enjoyed Marbled Godwits, Long-billed Curlews, lots of Lesser Black-backed Gulls, and other shorebirds in the most expansive beach flats I’ve seen in the state.

Above, from left: Olive-sided Flycatcher, Western Sandpiper, Snowy Plover, Sanderling flock

I spent the night on the beach then started the morning with the same drive as the night before. It had pretty much the same suite of birds, among them Long-billed Curlew and Marbled Godwit. My favorite bird of the morning drive was a low-flying Peregrine Falcon. I also enjoyed hearing my first Savannah Sparrows of the fall and a close flyby from a Reddish Egret.

I was itching to find something rare on my last day of break, so I immediately began checking seldom-visited woodlots in eastern Cameron Parish. Oak Grove was first up, and held quite a few good birds. The highlights for me were a late Yellow-bellied Flycatcher and another Common Ground Dove.

Yellow-bellied Flycatchers are scarce migrants in Louisiana and their migration interval doesn’t coincide well with when I’m here for school. Accordingly, this was the first one I’ve ever photgraphed.

Lots of warblers were around but not the numbers or diversity of the day before. Indigo Buntings were thick though and I had another Clay-colored Sparrow.

I checked Rutherford Beach, often a good spot for shorebirds and the road in always has the potential for something interesting. It was slow, but two distant White-tailed Kites and a swimming Clapper Rail made it well worth the stop.

I kept moving west, checking every roadside woodlot. I came up with a late Great-crested Flycatcher and some less common migrants like Philadelphia Vireo. It was getting hot when I came to a little cemetery on the side of the highway where Jack and I had a probable Cassin’s Vireo get away from us last winter. Immediately I pished in a Tropical Parula. It was a beautiful male and it was right above me with two Northern Parulas and a redstart. I took a burst of photos, hoping to have crushed the documentation on what would be one of my best finds to date. I looked at the back of my camera, frustrated to see only live oak leaves and a blurry impression of a bird behind them. I texted the state GroupMe and tried to call anyone I thought might be within easy striking distance, hoping they’d get to see it and also that more people stood a better chance at documenting this rarity.

Tropical Parulas on the gulf coast are a touchy subject because they hybridize a lot with Northern Parulas. Since hybrids are fertile, quite a lot of birds look very much like Tropical Parulas in southern Texas but have one or two white feathers. Some people choose to count these birds as Tropicals, considering them close enough, but that doesn’t fly further out of range. Louisiana has had a few hybrids and seven Tropicals, with no pure birds since 2007. The upper Texas coast has had a few in that timeframe, including a bird I got to see last October. That bird probably wouldn’t pass the stern eye of the Louisiana Bird Records Committee. It has a suggestion of white in the lores and the orange in the chest seems to bunch into a band, both potentially indicative of some introgression with Northern Parulas at some point in its genetic past. The bird I was looking at in Cameron, though, was picture perfect. Bright colors, a broad mask, and most importantly no hint of white around the eye. I desperately needed to document it.

The bird was foraging in the area for about 10 minutes and I was able to fire off a couple bursts of pictures. Frustratingly (an understatement) the camera wouldn’t grab focus and none of the photos I checked showed anything resembling a bird.

Despite playing mob tapes, vireo scolds, and parula playback, Esme (who’d shown up within 15 minutes of my message hitting the GroupMe) and I weren’t able to refind the bird. Esme never even got a glimpse of it; birds seemed to be moving west down the chenier and it appeared that the parula had left the area.

Frustrated, hot, and out of water, I called it a day about 2:30 in the afternoon after two hours of fruitless searching for the parula. I drove back to Baton Rouge with mixed feelings, for it had been a great weekend and topped off by a great bird. However, I wasn’t able to document it and nobody else had refound it. When I got home, though, I put my photos on my laptop just in case. Among the live oak leaves - there it was! Not a good photo by any means, but along with my field notes, I’m hopeful this bird gets past the LBRC and goes down as Louisiana’s 8th Tropical Parula.

Not my best photo ever, it shows all the features of a male Tropical Parula and made me feel a lot better about submitting a long form to the Louisiana Bird Records Committee

The parula had distracted me from what was really quite spectacular birding in that little roadside woodlot. We had another Yellow-bellied Flycatcher feeding at knee height for the duration of the time we were there. A spectacular Yellow-throated Vireo emerged at eye level in ragweed to a mob tape. Ruby-crowned Kinglets danced next to Esme’s speaker. All in all, I managed over 50 species during the mid day lull at a postage stamp sized woodlot. It was a pretty great way to cap off a refreshing - if not very restful - fall break.

View the full species list as an eBird trip report here: https://ebird.org/tripreport/162411