Tag Archives: tricolored heron (Egretta tricolor)

Tropical haven

There is a place where spring calls forth all the magic of the tropics …

White ibises (Eudocimus albus) flying overhead (2009_05_17_019243)

A place where white ibises circle overhead …

A great egret (Ardea alba) collecting nesting material in the understory (2009_05_17_019056)

A place where great egrets lurk in the understory …

A little blue heron (Egretta caerulea) perched on a branch (2009_05_17_019428)

A place where little blue herons keep watch at eye level …

A black-crowned night-heron (Nycticorax nycticorax) perched in a tree (2009_05_17_019912)

A place where black-crowned night-herons peer back from their ligneous perches …

A snowy egret (Egretta thula) perching on a limb (2009_05_17_019767)

A place where snowy egrets observe the observers …

Close-up of a tricolored heron (a.k.a. Louisiana heron; Egretta tricolor) perched in a tree (2009_07_12_026569_n)

A place where tricolored herons remain vigilant even at rest …

A cattle egret (Bubulcus ibis) standing in a tree displaying its mating plumage (2009_05_17_019354)

A place where cattle egrets display their beauty …

It’s amazing that this tropical haven rests just a few miles north of downtown Dallas.

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Photos (taken at the University of Texas Southwestern Medical Center campus in Dallas’s hospital district):

  1. White ibises (Eudocimus albus)
  2. Great egret (Ardea alba)
  3. Little blue heron (Egretta caerulea)
  4. Black-crowned night-heron (Nycticorax nycticorax)
  5. Snowy egret (Egretta thula)
  6. Tricolored heron (a.k.a. Louisiana heron; Egretta tricolor)
  7. Cattle egret (Bubulcus ibis)

It has begun

Less than four miles/six kilometers north of downtown Dallas.  Nestled within the hospital district with towering university and medical buildings quite literally a stone’s throw away.  Surrounded by major thoroughfares and the constant din of automobiles and airplanes.  A motte only 3.5 acres/1.4 hectares in size.  Yet at the height of summer, it will host more than 70 bird species.

A great egret (Ardea alba) standing on winter grass (2010_02_06_049479)

Some species will travel hundreds of miles from their usual nesting territories just to play a part in what can only be described as the most powerful and profound example of opportunism in the whole of North Texas.  Thousands of nests will be built, thousands of eggs will be incubated, thousands of chicks will be hatched, and from late winter through early autumn it will be a place of unimaginable beauty and awe such that all those who see it will be left struggling to comprehend how it could be real.  And all this will take place in a grove of trees much smaller than your local supermarket.

A black-crowned night-heron (Nycticorax nycticorax) perched on a branch (2009_06_20_024000)

I’m of course speaking about the colonial wading bird rookery that continues to thrive on the grounds of the University of Texas Southwestern Medical Center campus.  Older than the oldest records, all we know about the rookery is that it hosts a congregation of species so diverse and so vast that it engenders an otherworldly sense of reality, as though one has been transported to the most remote place imaginable where mystic creatures thrive.

A snowy egret (Egretta thula) hunting in the shallows (2009_06_01_021362)

Yet this is anything but remote.  The rookery lives in an urban jungle.  Six lanes of concrete surround it on two sides and multistory buildings and parking garages surround it on the other two.  Nevertheless they will come, the birds, and some will travel far outside their usual nesting territories just so they can join thousands of other pairs who will mate, nest, brood and rear young in a place that seems accidental at best.

A cattle egret (Bubulcus ibis) resting in a tree (2009_06_13_023406)

Already the largest nesters, the great egrets (Ardea alba), vie for prime real estate, these giant birds wandering the still barren woods plucking up twigs and sticks with which to build a home for their newest generation.  Soon the black-crowned night-herons (Nycticorax nycticorax), little blue herons (Egretta caerulea) and snowy egrets (Egretta thula) will join them.  Following quickly behind them will come the anhingas (a.k.a. water turkey or snakebird; Anhinga anhinga), the cattle egrets (Bubulcus ibis) and the tricolored herons (a.k.a. Louisiana heron; Egretta tricolor).  And when it all seems too much, white ibises (Eudocimus albus) will arrive.

A tricolored heron (a.k.a. Louisiana heron; Egretta tricolor) standing in a tree (2009_07_12_026569)

Meanwhile, flycatchers, cardinals, grackles, woodpeckers, kingbirds, mockingbirds, jays, swallows, wrens, hawks, thrashers, sparrows, robins and a legion vast of species will settle in where space is available.  Simultaneously the opossums and woodrats and raccoons and snakes and tree frogs and other animals will begin making appearances.  The air will fill with insects, the ground will move with crawling things, and the transformation will be complete: the rookery will once again be alive, will be thriving, will be full of so much life that it boggles the mind.

A white ibis (Eudocimus albus) looking out from the treetops (2009_07_12_026496)

I will make every effort to visit regularly and document reliably this most fascinating natural wonder.  As I did last year, I hope to follow the progress of the rookery and observe its inhabitants as much as possible.  I hope you’ll come along for this journey through the wonderland of an urban rookery where life abounds, where magic abides, and where city dwellers can lose themselves in nature’s demonstration of alien life.  One cannot say they know birds in North Texas without visiting this place, for this place holds more bird species and more individual birds per square yard/meter than anywhere else in this region.

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Photos:

[1] Great egret (Ardea alba)

[2] Black-crowned night-heron (Nycticorax nycticorax)

[3] Snowy egret (Egretta thula)

[4] Cattle egret (Bubulcus ibis)

[5] Tricolored heron (a.k.a. Louisiana heron; Egretta tricolor)

[6] White ibis (Eudocimus albus)

Scenes from Aransas

Despite uncooperative weather at Aransas National Wildlife Refuge during my visit last week, weather that made distance photography all but impossible, the fog and drizzle and thick clouds served one important purpose: to remind me that the clear view can sometimes obscure, that the richness of color and texture and form can sometimes be appreciated only when nature forces us to look at things differently.

A female bufflehead (Bucephala albeola) swimming in shallows just before sunrise (2009_12_13_043908)

Just before sunrise I stood at Jones Lake and watched a variety of wildlife start the day.  This lone female bufflehead (Bucephala albeola) swam lazily about the shallows.

A tricolored heron (a.k.a. Louisiana heron; Egretta tricolor) resting in a freshwater slough (2009_12_13_044364)

Alligators fill in warmer times the freshwater sloughs along the Heron Flats trail.  Too cool for the large reptiles to pose a threat, this tricolored heron (a.k.a. Louisiana heron; Egretta tricolor) seemed comfortably unconcerned with the cold-blooded dangers lurking in dens hidden around the area.

A male gadwall (Anas strepera) floating in a tidal marsh (2009_12_13_044380)

A plaintive, lonely cry.  That drew my attention to the tidal flats where this male gadwall (Anas strepera) floated by himself.  A few more calls and his mate scrambled from the marshy salt flat quite near where I stood.

A willet (Tringa semipalmata) flying over a foggy marsh (2009_12_13_044741)

Back at Jones Lake later in the afternoon, the weather had deteriorated significantly.  But the thickening fog couldn’t hide this willet (Tringa semipalmata) who flew in from the gray beyond and joined several friends near shore.

A great blue heron (Ardea herodias) standing on a salt flat in thick fog (2009_12_13_044764)

From Jones Lake I moved to the salt marsh and walked the boardwalk to the shore.  In a nearby flat this great blue heron (Ardea herodias) was little more than a shadow in an increasingly gray world.

A foggy shoreline with felled trees (2009_12_13_044542)

The Dagger Point lookout faces into San Antonio Bay where slow erosion of the shore undercuts sand hills and drops oak and redbay trees into the water below.  The fog had become so thick that only what was within arm’s length retained color while everything beyond faded into a world with no ground, no air and no sky—all was a kaleidoscope of gray.  When it moved its head, my eyes were drawn to the great blue heron perched atop the highest limb on the left; otherwise, it was one shadow amongst many, a distant and dark extension of the fallen tree upon which it stood.

The rookery – Part 1

Farms and ranches.  Urban and suburban sprawl.  Highways and byways.  Throughout the “civilized” world, these anthropogenic artifacts have gone to great lengths in reducing the availability of natural habitat for plants and animals.  Traveling some distance from humanity seems a prerequisite just to see nature doing its thing in what little space we’ve left for it.  This explains why most people in developed areas rarely see anything more than a handful of bird species, the occasional rat or mouse or ant or wasp, and almost no flora save that planted in manicured lawns and decorative gardens.

Conversely, nature has an interesting way of taking advantage of what few opportunities we provide it.  These oft overlooked silos of life accommodate surprising diversity where it’s least expected.  And that creates an opening for discovery, a chance a lot of people won’t otherwise have.  Therein lay the seed of appreciation that can make a city dweller comprehend the beauty beyond—and the need to protect it.

As the crow flies, it’s less than four miles/six kilometers north of downtown Dallas: the University of Texas Southwestern Medical Center campus, a large complex of health facilities and college buildings smack-dab in the middle of the hospital district.  For miles around, you can’t throw a stone without hitting a doctor or nurse or medical student—and winding up in court for the trouble!  Yet nestled in the middle of a bustling urban landscape and located on the campus grounds lies an example of nature’s irony and majesty.


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A small wooded area at the intersection of two major roads.  It covers approximately 3.5 acres/1.4 hectares and serves as respite for students, faculty and patients, a breath of verdant escapism outside cold stone walls.  To leave the sterile smell of the hospital for a few minutes and listen as gentle breezes whisper through the trees probably has as much a medicinal effect as any prescription drug.  (Recent studies showing the impact of nature on the human mind and body certainly agree.)

But that humble area of trees and brush also serves another purpose, one protected by state and federal laws.  It’s a rookery for migratory birds.

A great egret (Ardea alba) perched in a tree (2009_04_19_015737)

I visited the site a few weeks ago.  I’m embarrassed to admit it was the first time in my life…and I’ve lived here almost 40 years.  It seems I’ve spent too much time running here and there, always looking for the exotic or out-of-the-way opportunities, and in the process I ignored what should be a cherished Dallas landmark.

Two black-crowned night-herons (Nycticorax nycticorax) perched in the treetops (2009_04_19_015683)

Like an imaginary world, the rookery presents as a surreal oasis in the middle of the city.  To get close to it, one must stand within a cluster of multi-story buildings and heavy traffic, yet the number of species nesting here defies belief.  Great egrets flit across six-lane roads.  Anhinga circle above the treetops.  Snowy and cattle egrets busy themselves with collecting twigs for their nests.  Green and little blue herons lurk in the shadows trying to remain invisible.  Once in a while a tricolored or great blue heron shows up.  And white ibises sometimes nest here as well, although they tend towards the middle of the woods, a forbidden realm that offers them escape from the city around them.

Two snowy egrets (Egretta thula) building a nest (2009_04_19_015774)

Then there are the robins and kingbirds and flycatchers, and the sparrows and wrens and finches.  Starlings, grackles, mockingbirds, doves, woodpeckers and an endless parade of other species likewise dwell or hunt here.  The magnitude, the volume of life in this tiny patch of land seems incomprehensible at best.  That’s never more true than when one considers that it’s a small green dot in the middle of a gray concrete jungle.

A tricolored heron (a.k.a. Louisiana heron; Egretta tricolor) perched in a tree (2009_04_19_016082)

Birds aren’t the only inhabitants.  Fox squirrels and Virginia opossums scurry about the branches and understory while trying to avoid the angry retribution of nesting herons.  If you’ve never seen a great egret wallop a squirrel for being too close to its nest, I assure you the squirrel always loses.  And it ain’t pretty.

A green heron (Butorides virescens) perched on a branch over a pond (2009_04_19_016309)

Signs around the periphery of the grove adamantly declare the obvious: “Bird Nesting Area: NO TRESPASSING.”  These manifest the university’s responsibility…but not necessarily its wishes.  Controversy surrounds this wonder, this beguiling gem amidst mundane people and their ways.  While so many pass by without noticing, even the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department pays attention.

An American robin (Turdus migratorius) standing in dirt looking for food (2009_04_19_015993)

I contacted UT Southwestern about the rookery.  I asked for more than the usual press release: I added several specific questions related to historical treatment of the area and what plans exist for the future.  I have yet to hear back, although I hope to include their response in future installments of this miniseries.

A Virginia opossum (a.k.a. possum; Didelphis virginiana) looking down from within a tree (2009_04_19_016229)

Meanwhile I’m left with a sense of awe and intrigue.  I’ve seen alligators and crocodiles, killer snails and killer snakes, rodents larger than most dogs and rodents smaller than a thumbprint, whales and wasps of many stripes, and countless birds that fill every niche of nature’s womb, yet still I find myself beguiled by the bounty of life that finds home and safety in a wee bit of woods hidden within a concrete jungle.  It’s a testament to life that many hundreds of nests will be built there—again.

The rookery calls me back while the spring nesting season continues.  I intend to return as often as I can to document this marvelous dichotomy, a simple little spot that reminds me of what Rachel Carson penned in The Sense of Wonder:

For most of us, knowledge of our world comes largely through sight, yet we look about with such unseeing eyes that we are partially blind.  One way to open your eyes is to ask yourself, ‘What if I had never seen this before? What if I knew I would never see it again?'”

Indeed, what if…

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Photos:

[1] Great egret (Ardea alba)

[2] Black-crowned night-herons (Nycticorax nycticorax)

[3] Snowy egrets (Egretta thula)

[4] Tricolored heron (a.k.a. Louisiana heron; Egretta tricolor)

[5] Green heron (Butorides virescens)

[6] American robin (Turdus migratorius)

[7] Virginia opossum (a.k.a. possum; Didelphis virginiana)

[cross-posted to The Clade]