Birding in South Florida

We’re exhausted after 4 days of birding in South Florida with Orange Audubon Society. Up and out of the hotel by 6:30 for all-day walking and craning our necks up, holding binoculars. I definitely need to add upper body strength training to our fitness routines.

Our guides, Mariah and Luis, spotted and heard birds like magicians conjuring doves from their hats and, most importantly, could describe where they were, so the rest of us could find them. Just outside Everglades National Park, we walked the canal, seeing egrets and herons on the water side, warblers and other wintering migrants on the field side. Two white tailed kites flew over to hunt in the park. In the Keys, at Dagney Johnson Biological State Park, I saw warblers (parula, prairie, black and white, pine, palm), oven birds, and catbirds.

At Blue Hole on Big Pine Key, not so much, but the alligator hanging out with tarpon was a surprise. Luis spotted 2 black racers on the Golden Orb Trail on Long Key, where I’d risen my bike many years ago and taken a bad fall when I tried to hop up onto the boardwalk. My ego bruised as much as my hip. Plus every time we returned to camp there, my family reminded me of that adventure, as did Grant this trip. We are a predictable group.

We saw hummingbirds in a Hong Kong orchid tree at an elementary school in Kendall. I was pleased that when we finally spotted the rufous, I was able to describe to others its smaller, thicker body shape compared to all the ruby throated ones buzzing around. All birding is relative. The monk parakeets and different parrots I saw regularly when we lived in Fort Lauderdale were additions to some of the group’s life lists. I did enjoy the red-masked parrot sticking its head out of its cavity nest up in the Biltmore Hotel rafter. I suspect the maintenance people are not as happy about that. The scaly-breasted munia, releasees from the pet trade, flying in the tall grasses at an utility easement, are the Nutmeg Mannikins I’d seen in California. Cute, but should be home in Asia.

The previous Monday I’d had my hearing tested since Grant says I’m not hearing him as well as he thinks I should. Perhaps I’m just ignoring him, because the results were that although I’ve lost some of the higher pitches, my mid and low range are right in the normal area. Doctor said come back next year for another test. Feeling cocky, I’d planned to listen for birds on our trip. Not a prayer, because Luis continually played loud calls over his speaker to lure the birds in. It was successful yet annoying. (And when he wasn’t, Alan, a tour participant, was.) “What happened to only phishing, and that rarely?”, several of us old codgers mumbled among ourselves. But playing bird calls seems to be the thing now. Happens on all the trips I’ve been on recently. We do see more birds. However, I watched a male ruby-throated hummingbird as he tried to determine where the song was coming from, so he could run off his competition. Obviously very agitated. I understand the guides livelihoods depend on showing us birds. Standing at dusk amid the mosquitoes, waiting for the lesser nighthawk, which never did fly by, was a disappointment.  Birds are annoying that way. Still, hearing real birdsong is what I want.