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February 01, 2007 - Florida and its high fliers• The Suffolk Times •February 1, 2007 Florl a�l a!n- its high fll*er — p�'! r h011 rr;: M1 mv� tl r Al Ellm 1 w , h � r fiah� �14 gg �n k r 1 4 r y, ":.rrr�a�'�r'�ry*,AvF .+q'^.•• ms.µ. Vultures are a common sight in Florida. Here we see black vultures enjoying photos unfortunate ine aay the winter weather we'd been enjoyin left, Barbara and I headed south to our retreat in Florida. We always try for a straight flight through so we don't get involved in long waits between flights and the general confusion that often can be so aggravating. Every seat in the plane was taken; it looked like all of a sudden people were escaping the cold. As we waited to board the plane, I had time to search the area for any signs of bird life. The cement and blacktop that surrounded the airport held little in the line of food for anything but one lonely Focus US starling. I believe these rug - ON ged invaders from the "old country" will inherit the N A T U R E earth, for they seem to be able to survive under any by Paul conditions. Stoutenburgh I remember when Barbara -- and I camped through Alas- ka, I was anxious to see what that vast and beautiful country could otter in the line of bird life. I no sooner got off the plane when I spotted a single bird some distance away. Out came the binoculars to identify my first bird in Alaska. As I turned the focusing knob, the bird slowly came into view. Could you believe it? My first bird in Alaska was a starling! They had spread from a tiny beginning in New York City all across the United States and up into Canada and Alaska. Talk about an invasive species. Our flight down was unbelievably smooth; only once or twice did we feel any bumps and that wa, just as we went through the high cloud cover that dominated the whole eastern seaboard. Once through that, we flew in beautiful sunshine, leav- ing the dismal gray cloud cover behind. As we landed at Tampa Bay my eyes swept across the vast open spaces that act as buffers be- tween the cement runways that spread out in all directions around us. What I was looking for were owls, burrowing owls. I'd seen them at the airport in Homestead, Fla., years ago and, who knows, I . Yoiiiupb Lnere mignt ne some here.'1'hes owls live in burrows and the sight of a family of these long- legged birds is something to see. Friends told us there were burrowing owls at the airport there so we couldn't pass up the op- portunity to stop in and check them out, but how The airport was ringed with a high chain -link fence with menacing barbed wire along the top. No one we spoke to at the airport knew anything about owls. Then I had an idea: We were asking the wron eo le. With a little inquiring here and there, we ound a down -to -earth maintenance man who knew all about "his" burrowing owls. "Want to see them ?" he asked. In no time we were sitting in the back of an old maintenance pickup speeding down a dirt road that ringed the airport. Our driver knew just where to go and sure enough, there were "his burrowing owls," standing on their long legs blinking at us. I was busy clicking away while Barbara kept up a lively conversation with the "keeper of the owls." Later on we would come across other burrow- ing owls; one family we found was about to be wiped out because of a housing development that was under way, destroying everything in its path. The pressure on Florida's delicate ecosystem is unbelievable; it seems everywhere you look new construction is taking place. Our little hideaway has been around for over 60 years and has seen this land transformation radually building up until today, when we see it steamrolling over much of the land. You can tell the age of many of the homes down here on the Gulf because newer buildings are being built on pilings eight feet above the water table. This is the government's requirement if you want to pur cha a federal flood insurance, and who doesn't in this land of hurricanes and tornadoes? From the Tampa airport to our place takes us about one hour via taxi. There's only one thing wrong with the ride, and that is our driver takes advantage of today's high speeds and we miss seeing a lot of the countryside, as it flies by too fast . ere's little time to catch a glimpse of any of the birds they have down here. As you probably remember, I'm partial to vultures and when I see a group of them enjoying a meal of some unfortunate roadkill, I'd like to holler out "Stop!" to get a good view of them up close. We see both kinds of vultures here: the turkey and the black. Up close you can tell them apart by their heads; the turkey vul- ture has a colorful reddish head while the black vulture's head is black. Both are ex- pert aerialists; they seem to soar endlessly on outstretched wings. Looking closely as they wheel about, you can tell them apart by the position of their wings. The black vulture's wings are positioned straight out while the turkey vulture has straight -up- ward, dihedral wings. It was an easy job to get the place livable: rn the water on throw the electric switch. white ibis, like so many birds and animals, is be ied out of its natural habitat down here in Flori e resort to feeding on manicured lawns around ri ial developments. , tnen listen for the refrigerator to come on. This done, we were ready to settle in. We knew we were in the right place, for the family of fish crows that was here last year once again greete us with monotonous calls from the top of the tamarind tree nearby. The great egret that begs at everyone's door- step is also still here. I must say, if anyone want- ed to get a close look at this three -foot white giant, this is the place to come. It wasn't long before we had our own trans- portation in the form of a rented car. First order of business was to get food. We headed for the Publix store a short distance away. Just outside the parking lot, high on an electric wire, were six white ibis, a relatively common bird down here but a rather rare wader up home. I once photographed a white ibis in Riverhead. It was one of those shots that I never should have at- The pressure on tempted. The ibis was feed- Florida's delicate ing in some bushes at the end of a creek. Those bushes ecosystem is cared little about my dunga- unbelievable. rees or thin cotton shirt. As I crawled on my hands and knees, every bush, especially those with thorns, seemed to reach ou and grab me. I wasn't going to let some lowly bush stop me. so I pressed on. Ahead of me was my prize, a crow -size wader with red feet and legs and a long, down - curved, reddish bill that is used most effectively to probe for crustaceans and worms in soft mud. It was most frustrating, for it seemed each time I got close to this rare visitor it would move and I would have to start over again. I finally did get a few quick shots, but they were miserably poor and could be used only as a record. I still pursue those wonderful creatures called birds but now I leave out the crawling and wad- ing through the swamp and marshes. I still get a thrill when I look through a camera lens or focus on some bird in a treetop, even if it's one I've seen many times before.