VAAM Victories and Hopeless Hawks
Saturday was a great day for Cattle Egrets.
Not only did I see hundreds of them between Stephenville and Houston; I was also satisfied in the name of their species, even by my exacting standards. For the first time, I saw an egret happily perched on the back of a steer in a nice soggy grass field.
The rest of them didn't stray far from the cattle either, and I got to wondering why I ever had difficulty telling them from Great Egrets (in flight, anyway). I'm getting to be a pretty good guesser, since this little rule of thumb has so far held water: Greats rarely fly in pairs or groups and Cattles rarely fly alone. Maybe this is the answer to the burning question: "What's so dang 'Great' about 'em?"
Sometimes the obvious just needs to be stated.
My trip to Houston had to be taken under cover; a pair of good friends were getting married and getting to the church on time took precedence over the allure of the Galveston coast. Afterwards, I'm ashamed to admit, returning home awake and alive took precedence over what I might see if I headed there. Having not done any research beforehand, I couldn't expect to drive up to the beach, say "Here I am," and spot a pair of scoters--though I've heard it has been done.
I contented myself with counting upwards of 17 different species as I barreled down the highways. Identification at high speed is difficult for me, especially for the several hawks I could not put my finger on. They simply don't cooperate by flying low in good light along my own route, wheeling so as to reveal all possible shapes. Even if they did, I would need a chauffeur because of the dangers inherent in blindly operating a vehicle solo on a two-lane highway right after the first rain in a month. As far as I can tell, one of them was a Cooper's-Shinned Kestrel.
*Audible sigh to indicate wistfulness* I'm just making excuses. Really, I just need more practice and more commitment to learning. It's like school or something.
Not only did I see hundreds of them between Stephenville and Houston; I was also satisfied in the name of their species, even by my exacting standards. For the first time, I saw an egret happily perched on the back of a steer in a nice soggy grass field.
The rest of them didn't stray far from the cattle either, and I got to wondering why I ever had difficulty telling them from Great Egrets (in flight, anyway). I'm getting to be a pretty good guesser, since this little rule of thumb has so far held water: Greats rarely fly in pairs or groups and Cattles rarely fly alone. Maybe this is the answer to the burning question: "What's so dang 'Great' about 'em?"
Sometimes the obvious just needs to be stated.
My trip to Houston had to be taken under cover; a pair of good friends were getting married and getting to the church on time took precedence over the allure of the Galveston coast. Afterwards, I'm ashamed to admit, returning home awake and alive took precedence over what I might see if I headed there. Having not done any research beforehand, I couldn't expect to drive up to the beach, say "Here I am," and spot a pair of scoters--though I've heard it has been done.
I contented myself with counting upwards of 17 different species as I barreled down the highways. Identification at high speed is difficult for me, especially for the several hawks I could not put my finger on. They simply don't cooperate by flying low in good light along my own route, wheeling so as to reveal all possible shapes. Even if they did, I would need a chauffeur because of the dangers inherent in blindly operating a vehicle solo on a two-lane highway right after the first rain in a month. As far as I can tell, one of them was a Cooper's-Shinned Kestrel.
*Audible sigh to indicate wistfulness* I'm just making excuses. Really, I just need more practice and more commitment to learning. It's like school or something.
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