Having grown up in central Florida and lived in Texas for the last few years, I am used to seeing warblers during migration, not singing on territory like they do here.  This means I have quite a steep learning curve trying to learn the songs of local birds. I am making rapid progress, but there is an incredible amount to learn!

Just a few weeks ago, I was birding at Sapsucker Woods and could hear a very loud song a little ways off in the forest.  I searched and searched and searched and could not find the bird.  Not a chance.  I knew I had heard it before, but I had absolutely no idea what it was.  Finally, since it was starting to get dark, I gave up and headed back home.

The next morning, I was birding at Genung Preserve very close to my house.  As soon as I stepped out of my car, I heard the song again, and this time it was very close.  After a minute or so of searching I finally tracked down an Ovenbird, singing from a fairly low branch in a conifer.  I tried for a few minutes to get some photos, but the light just wasn’t there, as the sun hadn’t cleared the horizon yet.  Since he was clearly on territory, I decided to go find some Blue-winged Warblers and return later in the morning.

After having a successful shoot with a nice male Blue-winged Warbler, I returned to the Ovenbird and followed him around for a while.  I took tons and tons of photographs, but the low and dappled light made it extremely difficult.  Out of all my frames, I ended up with a single frame (top image) that I was fairly pleased with and a couple more that are ok, but nothing spectacular.  Since this bird is right around the corner from my house, I’m going to have to return to see if I can do better!

Male Blue-winged Warbler (Vermivora pinus) - Genung Nature Preserve, Freeville, NY

As a birder, one of my nemesis birds for a long time was the Blue-winged Warbler.  I have seen all but one or two species of wood warblers that are found in the eastern half of the country but for a long time, Blue-wingeds avoided me.  I finally got my eyes on one at High Island, Texas two years ago but it was just a single bird.  When we finally decided to move to Ithaca, I knew that this would give me a chance to not only see Blue-wingeds, but hopefully get some photos as well.

I had been trying to get out and photograph this week but the weather didn’t really want to cooperate in the mornings.  Finally, yesterday, we had a sunny morning and I decided to go check out a very small preserve just around the corner from my apartment, the Genung Nature Preserve, owned by the Finger Lakes Land Trust.  Tuesday evening, someone had reported having heard Blue-winged Warblers at the preserve so I hoped there would be at least one bird on territory.

Before leaving the apartment this morning, I was sure to review the buzzy, almost insect like song of the Blue-winged Warbler.  Knowing the song makes locating the birds infinitely easier.  I arrived at the park, stepped out of my car and was immediately greeted by a Blue-winged Warbler singing about 50 yards away.  Easy enough, I got my gear set up and headed down the trail to find the bird.

Male Blue-winged Warbler (Vermivora pinus) - Genung Nature Preserve, Freeville, NY

Fortunately for us photographers, Blue-wingeds tend to like low brushy habitat rather than really tall canopy trees like so many other warblers do.  Sure enough, the Blue-winged Warbler was singing fairly low down and I was able to spend some significant time photographing the beautiful male.

Male Blue-winged Warbler (Vermivora pinus) - Genung Nature Preserve, Freeville, NY

Once I was satisfied with the images of this bird, I went for a walk through the rest of the preserve.  The forest was alive with bird song including several new birds for the year for me such as the Scarlet Tanager, Eastern Towhee, and Common Yellowthroat.  I also had an Ovenbird that was singing its heart out right by the parking lot.  Maybe I’ll share those photographs with you tomorrow.

Eastern Newt (Red Eft Stage) (Notophthalmus viridescens viridescens) - Robert Treman State Park, New York

This past weekend, I was one of four instructors for a Backcountry Photography class offered by Cornell Outdoor Education.  We left Friday evening and returned Sunday after spending a couple days hiking and exploring Robert H. Treman State Park and Lick Brook Gorge here in Ithaca.

For me, most of the trip was dedicated to teaching rather than photographing, but Sunday morning I was up before the rest of the group and had a few minutes to photograph on my own.  I was only carrying a wide angle and a macro lens so when I found this small salamander, I got the macro out and set up.  Now, I don’t do all that much macro work and had never photographed a salamander before, but I was pleased with the setup and the light.  The setup here is pretty simple as I simply photographed this salamander on a nice patch of moss in fairly diffuse early morning light.

Since getting home, I have done a little bit of research on these critters and learned a lot.  First off, the Red Eft is actually the juvenile stage of the Eastern Newt.  Eastern Newts (Notophthalmus viridescens) have three stages of life, an aquatic tadpole stage, the juvenile terrestrial stage (the eft), and then a final adult aquatic stage.  Additionally, there are four subspecies found in the eastern United States.  It appears that I have photographed the nominative subspecies Notophthalmus viridescens viridescens, also known as the Red-spotted Newt.

You never know what you will encounter when out for a walk in the woods in the spring.  Tomorrow I’ll share a few images of some of the wildflowers I found on the trip.

Attwater's Prairie Chicken less than 24 hours old - Houston Zoo, Texas

As I have mentioned, if it wasn’t for the success of the captive breeding program at zoos across Texas, the Attwater’s Prairie Chicken would be long extinct.  Fortunately for us, this bird still can be seen on a couple prairies and the population has been increasing each of the last few years.

The main purpose of the captive breeding program is to raise individuals that can be released into the wild to supplement the wild population.  The hope is that the birds that are released will some day become part of the wild population, breed in the wild, and continue the species.  Unfortunately, as of now, this isn’t completely successful.  The released birds are struggling to breed in the wild.  They display, mate, and build nests just fine but raising young has proven to be extremely difficult.  With virtually zero fledged young from captive released birds, the only way to sustain the population is to continue to release adult birds.

The captive breeding program itself is quite fascinating.  The idea is simple: pair birds together, take their eggs, hatch them in an incubator, raise the chicks, and release them as juvenile birds a few months old.  However, it is quite a complicated process.  Every single captive bird has a documented parentage, and scientists pair birds in order to maximize genetic diversity.  The original captive population was less than 20 birds so this extensive genealogy is extremely important.

When the birds are young, they are raised in small cages and then as they grow they are placed in larger pens outside in appropriate habitat.  Once the birds are at the appropriate age for release, they are moved to a large pen on the prairies where they are to be released.  After a week or so acclimatizing in this pen, they are then released and from then on, they are on their own, hopefully to survive to the next year and to attempt to breed.

Attwater's Prairie Chicken eggs - Houston Zoo, Texas

One exciting development in the last few years is the establishment of a third population of birds.  Up until then, captive birds had been released on only two properties, the National Wildlife Refuge and a small Nature Conservancy reserve in the Houston and Galveston area.  A few years back, a population was released on private ranchland near Goliad, about 3 hours southwest of Houston.

What makes this release so exciting is that it represents the future of the recovery for this species.  Releasing birds on land set aside specifically for the prairie chickens isn’t sustainable as there just isn’t that much land out there classified as preserves.  However, private ranchland covers the vast majority of the landscape and if this species is to someday survive on its own, we have to support local landowners and find ways to help them manage their cattle ranches for good prairie chicken habitat as well.  Fortunately, as has been demonstrated by the work done near Goliad, TX, cattle and prairie chickens don’t have to be mutually exclusive.

The Attwater has been pulled back from the very edge of extinction but it is still extremely vulnerable.  Without further habitat management and a breakthrough that enables wild birds to successfully raise and fledge young, these birds may not have a future.  However, after talking to numerous people involved in the recovery of this species, I am confident that the optimism and enthusiasm of these individuals will enable the eventual recovery of these charismatic prairie dancers.

Captive Attwater's Prairie Chicken (Tympanachus cupido attwateri) - College Station, Texas

Whenever you are working with an extremely rare species, it is hard to build any expectations about the possibility of actually finding, much less photographing an individual.  Fortunately, for the Attwater’s Prairie Chicken, there is a substantial population living in captivity, including a few individuals that were only about 10 minutes from where I lived, so that is where I started.

After meeting with Dr. Nova Silvy at Texas A&M University, I was given access to the Small Upland-bird Research Facility (SURF) where several Attwater’s were held in addition to a few Greater Prairie Chickens.  This facility was instrumental in developing the captive breeding program now used by a half dozen zoos and other wildlife facilities in the state, but it is no longer conducting active research with the Attwater’s.  In fact, Dr. Silvy described it as a retirement facility for Attwater’s that were no longer effective in the breeding programs.

On my first visit, I arrived just before dawn not really sure what to expect.  I very rarely photograph captive species and had never even seen a prairie chicken before.  The facility is set up around a common area with the pens radiating outwards, like the spokes on a bicycle wheel.  For the first few minutes, I just stood at the hub watching the males perform their displays.  After a few minutes, I selected one of the most active birds, set up my camera and entered the pen.

Captive Attwater's Prairie Chicken (Tympanachus cupido attwateri) - College Station, Texas

To my absolute surprise, the male charged me!  For the next few hours, as I worked in the pen, the bird alternated between displaying on the other side of the pen and charging and attacking me.  The attacks were clearly not motivated by fear, but as if he saw me as a rival.  He would display right at my feet and then attack my legs, grabbing my pants and beating my legs with his wings, and then return to his dance.  The attack was very similar to those I later witnessed with the Lesser Prairie Chickens in New Mexico and had seen here in the facility with males attempting to get at each other through the fences.

After that first visit, I returned on several different mornings to continue to capture and document these extremely rare birds.  I walked away with a few nice images but photographing captive birds just doesn’t do much for me.  I wanted to see them in the wild!

Captive Attwater's Prairie Chicken (Tympanachus cupido attwateri) - College Station, Texas

It took some work, but about a month later, I found myself sitting on a prairie with Terry Rosignol, the refuge manager at Attwater Prairie Chicken National Wildlife Refuge (APCNWR), as the sun set.  We were setting up my blind near a lek so that I could return in the morning to try and photograph these magnificent birds in the wild.  That night, I could barely sleep which was fine because I had to get up at about 3:00 anyway.  I was installed in the blind by about 5:00 and by sunrise, I was witnessing my first Attwater’s Prairie Chicken in the wild.  Unfortunately, the bird was about 150 yards away, making it rather hopeless to capture the photographs I wanted.  Despite the distance, I spent the next few hours watching three different birds displaying.  When they left the lek, Terry and I drove around to a few different leks and were fortunate to see several other birds, including a female who visited a male on one lek.  While we sat and watched, we were amazed to see the two copulate, a rather rare event to witness.

While driving around the prairies and talking with Terry, I was amazed by his optimism.  He, and nearly every other researcher I met, is extremely optimistic about the outlook for the Attwater’s.  Their numbers are growing, slowly, but there are still some major concerns regarding the species survival.  If it wasn’t for the captive breeding program, which we will examine tomorrow, the species would have already long vanished, but for now, they keep a tenuous hold on existence.

Captive Attwater's Prairie Chicken (Tympanachus cupido attwateri) - Texas A&M University, Texas

While Lesser Prairie Chickens can be found in substantial numbers across several states, the Attwater’s Prairie Chicken is only found on three single prairies in Texas.  Once numbering in the hundreds of thousands, today there are less than 100 birds remaining in the wild and that population is only sustained through a significant captive breeding and release program.

I first became interested in the Attwater’s Prairie Chicken in 2008, shortly after moving to College Station, Texas.  During my research on the local region, I learned that the two main populations of these birds, one on a small Nature Conservancy preserve in Houston and the main one at Attwater Prairie Chicken National Wildlife Refuge (APCNWR), were within a couple hours of my home.  I also discovered that a professor at Texas A&M had been integral in the early years of the captive breeding program.

Captive Attwater's Prairie Chicken (Tympanachus cupido attwateri) - Texas A&M University, Texas

Throughout the spring of 2008, I spent numerous mornings photographing a few captive birds at the Small Upland-bird Research Facility (SURF) at Texas A&M.  These few birds were actually my first experience with prairie chickens and their amazing displays.  Eventually, I was able to spend some time viewing the wild birds at the National Wildlife Refuge and even able to visit the captive breeding program at the Houston Zoo.  By the end of the spring, I had an article published in the Texas Birds Annual, an annual magazine published by the Texas Ornithological Society.

The Attwater is technically not a full species, but actually a subspecies of the Greater Prairie Chicken, a much more common bird found farther to the north.  They once were classified as a separate species, just like the Heath Hen, a now extinct Prairie Chicken that was abundant in New England in the 19^th century.  Today, the Attwater faces a similar fate, except for the support and recent success of the captive breeding program, which we will look at in a couple days.

Lesser Prairie Chickens (Tympanuchus pallidicinctus) in a standoff - Milensand, New Mexico

In 2008, when I had the opportunity to spend a week in eastern New Mexico photographing Lesser Prairie Chickens on the lek, I knew I would have an opportunity to capture some great action.  After all, there are only so many headshots and portraits of birds dancing you can make, so I decided to focus several days worth of shooting trying to capture the fights on the lek.

Lesser Prairie Chickens (Tympanuchus pallidicinctus) beginning a fight - Milensand, New Mexico

The leks where I was photographing had several dozen birds displaying and each male worked hard to defend his own little area.  However, it was a constant struggle to defend this small territory as neighboring birds constantly encroached and tried to expand their own territories.  These little battles often escalated from dancing displays to standoffs and even to skirmishes.  After witnessing a few battles my first morning there, I knew I was going to be spending a lot of time trying to capture these moments of conflict.

Lesser Prairie Chickens (Tympanuchus pallidicinctus) fighting - Milensand, New Mexico

The battles themselves are brief, only a couple seconds long.  The birds typically square off a foot or two apart and stare each other down.  Then, without much warning, they launch at each other and jump in the air.  After that, anything goes.  Pecking, scratching, grabbing.  It happens fast and then it is over.  Sometimes it requires several jumps to determine a victor, but the birds then usually go on their way, only to fight again later in the morning when one tries to grab up a bit more territory.

Lesser Prairie Chickens (Tympanuchus pallidicinctus) fighting - Milensand, New Mexico

Whether these fights actually influence the females’ selection, I don’t know.  It may be that the females actually judge who wins each fight, or more likely, the winner gets a better position or a larger territory as a result, and this is what the females are using as selection criteria. Whatever the reason, on a crowded lek, fights are constantly breaking out and changing the dynamics of the site.

Tomorrow, we will look at a different species of prairie chicken, one that is so endangered that leks rarely have more than one to three males and therefore, fights are rare.

Male Lesser Prairie Chicken (Tympanuchus pallidicinctus) Displaying - Milnesand, New Mexico

It’s predawn on the prairies of eastern New Mexico and I sit in my blind listening to the darkness.  A slight breeze riffles through the nylon of the blind, but otherwise the prairie is nearly silent.  I wait, listening for any sound of dawn.  An insect chirps mechanically occasionally in the darkness.  As the first hint of dawn begins to seep across the Eastern horizon, I hear the heavy flap of wings as the first prairie chickens arrive to begin their morning displays.  Soon, the birds begin to arrive from all directions, flying low across the prairie and landing in an open area, as they do every morning and evening each spring.

I can hear the displays before I can see them, strange noises as the males inflate the balloon-like pouches on the side of their neck and dance furiously trying to attract a female.  As they bob their heads calling, it sounds like some weird noise a plastic toy might make, but its far more than a squeak.  Something between a coo, a boom, and a whistle.  There really is no other display like it.

Male Lesser Prairie Chicken (Tympanuchus pallidicinctus) Displaying - Milnesand, New Mexico

These birds have gathered on what is known as a lek.  All the males in the area will assemble, each morning, on one of a handful of locations to compete with each other for females.  Every male performs essentially the same dance and vocalizations.  A foot stomping, head bobbing dance that is accompanied by vocalizations created using inflated pouches of skin.  As the males display, the females will approach the lek, watch the males, possibly select a male, and mate before leaving rather quickly.

Female Lesser Prairie Chicken (Tympanuchus pallidicinctus) - Milnesand, New Mexico

What is truly amazing to me is that if you track the mate selection of all the females, a striking pattern emerges.  The vast majority of the females will select the same male as a mate.  There will be a small handful that picks a second or third male, but for most of the males on the lek, well they have a very frustrating spring season.

This pattern of dominance is about more than just the quality of the display because this isn’t just a “walk off” in the style of Zoolander.  Fights and brief skirmishes break out constantly across the lek, and tomorrow we’ll look at this direct competition on the lek.

Lesser Prairie Chicken (Tympanuchus pallidicinctus) - Milnesand, New Mexico

Have you ever seen a bird dance?  No?  A couple minutes on YouTube will turn up some amazing dancing birds including Birds of Paradise and a manikin that does the moonwalk, but have you ever actually seen a bird dance?  Well, you don’t have to travel to the tropics to witness these amazing phenomena.  Depending where you live in the United States, it may be in your backyard or fairly close nearby…

Of course, I am not talking about seeing a Bird of Paradise or Mannakin here in the US.  I am talking about witnessing the annual spring dance of birds from the Grouse family.  These incredible birds include both Grouse and Prairie Chickens and are fairly easy to witness if you live in the Interior West.  If you live in the east, the Ruffed Grouse is as close as you can get and while they might not be dancing, their display is equally as impressive to watch.

This week I’ll be taking you on a journey to the prairies of eastern New Mexico to witness the displays of the Lesser Prairie Chicken, central Texas to search for the nearly extinct Attwater’s Prairie Chicken, and into the depths of the Museum of Vertebrate Zoology at University of California, Berkeley to find the extinct Heath Hen.  We’ll look at the display themselves, the reason for the display, and the dynamic natural history at play.  Check back tomorrow for our first stop, Milnesand, New Mexico.

Dark-eyed Junco (Junco hyemalis) - Summerhill State Forest, New York

Dark-eyed Junco (Junco hyemalis) - Summerhill State Forest, New York

Like yesterday’s Song Sparrows, many Dark-eyed Juncos hang around the area over the winter and are commonly seen at feeders.  They also set up territories and begin singing early in the spring.  They breed in forests dominated by conifers but are also seen in mixed woods.  I have had them singing in my back yard in the past few weeks, but I was able to photograph this male singing in Summerhill State Forest last week.  I have enjoyed photographing these sparrows both this spring and last fall because we don’t get them in central Florida.