February 01, 2007 - Florida and its high fliers•
The Suffolk Times •February 1, 2007
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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.