North into Winter

Leaving Longboat Key before dawn yesterday morning, winter was already knocking on the door; it was 45 degrees F in southwest Florida.  As sunrise commenced near Tampa, flocks of wood storks streamed across the orange sherbet sky while farther north, near Ocala, sandhill cranes foraged in the chilly morning air.

Though sunny skies prevailed all the way to Chattanooga, the temperature remained near freezing for the rest of the day.  High, wispy clouds stretched above the north Georgia mountains and, west of Chattanooga, a gray overcast shrouded the Cumberland Plateau, signaling the change to come.  Indeed, we stopped in Nashville, Tennessee, for the night, where snow was expected by morning; unfortunately, we received sleet and freezing rain, coating our vehicle with ice.

Heading north from Nashville, we encountered the snow near Clarksville, where plows seemed to be out of service; crawling along on the snow-packed Interstate, we eventually reached clear pavement south of Paducah, Kentucky.  From then on, our journey through the snowy landscape was unimpaired and we reached Columbia my mid afternoon.  To be honest, after almost two weeks in Florida, I was glad to be back in the American Heartland, where four honest seasons unfold; I'll take my summer heat with the glorious colors of autumn, the invigorating snowstorms of winter and the slow, uneven recovery of spring.

The Ibis Patrol

Those of us who have homes in the Temperate latitudes of North America are familiar with flocks of robins, starlings or grackles that patrol our lawns, searching for insects, worms and grubs.  Down here in Florida, white ibis also perform that duty.

Roaming about in sizable flocks, these attractive birds feed in a variety of habitats, including fresh and saltwater wetlands, tidal mudflats, sloughs and fields, searching for crustaceans, marine worms, frogs, fish, small snakes and a host of aquatic invertebrates.  White ibis also patrol lawns, often marching side by side while probing the grass for insects and slugs; one such group, composed of four adults and two juveniles, has been feeding along our condo complex in recent days.

Highly social, white ibis nest and roost in large colonies, often in the company of egrets and herons.  They breed along the Atlantic and Gulf Coast, from North Carolina to Mexico and are permanent residents throughout Florida.  Indeed, there are few birds so closely associated with the Deep South than these curve-billed waders.

A Night of Tornadoes

Awakened by tornado warnings on our cell phones last night (just before 3AM), we turned on the TV and watched as a twister raked Siesta Key and moved northeastward through Metro Sarasota; three others followed in its wake but were less intense than the first.

The severe weather developed ahead of a potent cold front and were fueled, in part, by a strong subtropical jet stream, an atmospheric feature associated with El Nino.  Indeed, while most Florida tornadoes occur during the annual hurricane season (June to November), the strongest tend to develop during the winter months, especially in El Nino years.

Here on Longboat Key, we received heavy rain last night and continue to experience strong northwesterly winds behind the cold front this morning.  Fortunately, we escaped the brunt of the storms and were treated to a spectacular light show across Sarasota Bay as they moved onshore.  Unfortunately, at least two individuals were killed by the tornadoes.

Florida's High Country

The State of Florida lies completely within the Coastal Plain Province of North America and is not known for hilly or mountainous terrain.  Its highest point, Britton Hill (345 feet above sea level), lies within the North Florida Highlands of the Panhandle, near the Alabama border.

If one were to choose a classic "high country" region, however, it would be along the Lake Wales Ridge that runs north to south in Lake and Polk Counties (between Lakeland and Orlando); from this topographic and geologic ridge, streams flow into several of Florida's major watersheds.  To the northwest are the tributaries of the Withlacoochee River, which eventually enters the Gulf of Mexico at Yankeetown.  To the northeast, streams feed the middle portion of the St. John's River, which flows into the Atlantic Ocean at Jacksonville.  Directly west of the Ridge, several rivers (including the Alafia and Manatee) drain into Tampa Bay while, to the southwest, the Peace River and its tributaries flow toward Charlotte Harbor.  Finally, east and southeast of the Lake Wales Ridge, the Kissimmee River flows SSE to Lake Okeechobee (and thence into the Everglades).

While it may seem inappropriate to speak of high country in Florida, water sculpts all landscapes, even those with modest relief.  The highest point along the Lake Wales Ridge (Sugarloaf Mountain) may be only 312 feet above sea level but this central Florida upland feeds some of the largest rivers in the State.

Death of a Loon

Walking along the canal this morning, I found a dead common loon, bobbing behind a sailboat.  Its carcass appeared to be fresh and no injuries were evident.

Like many humans, he had come south to escape the snow and ice of our northern climes and to fish on the warm waters of Sarasota Bay; no doubt, he had made several journeys prior to his death.  Now, a thousand miles from his north country birthplace, his remains float in subtropical waters, soon to sink to the canal's muddy bottom.  There, crabs, fish and a host of marine invertebrates will strip away his flesh and his soft, avian bones will be scattered by the tidal current.

We humans, encountering such a victim, mourn his tragic death.  We grieve to find the lifeless body of such a romantic species so far from his boreal homeland.  But nature's cycle endures and, for many of us, the fate of this loon, to blend with the magnificent ecosystem of Sarasota Bay, is far more appealing than to be buried in a quilted box.

Gannets on the Horizon

After several days of a persistent east wind, the Gulf of Mexico was smooth as glass this morning.  Unfortunately, the resident birds were unimpressed and, during our two mile walk along the beach, we encountered only small numbers of shorebirds, least terns, brown pelicans and double-crested cormorants.

However, whenever I stopped to scan the calm sea, I observed flocks of northern gannets on the horizon, diving for their breakfast; at one point, a few moved closer to shore and could be observed without binoculars.  After breeding on rocky cliffs along the northern Atlantic Ocean (see Gannets of Bird Rock and Bonaventure Island National Park), these large sea birds disperse across the Atlantic for the winter months, where juveniles remain year-round until old enough to breed.  In North America, they may be observed off the East Coast, from the Canadian Maritimes to the Gulf of Mexico.

Today's events highlight the importance of knowing what to look for, having the patience to stop and scan the environment and having the tools (binoculars or spotting scopes) to observe distant wildlife. What may have been an unproductive birding walk proved to be far more interesting.

Streaming Mergansers

Our Longboat Key condo sits on an inlet of Sarasota Bay and offers a view of the main channel, framed by mangrove islands.  Late this morning, while watching white pelicans, egrets and roseate spoonbills along the inlet, I saw a line of red-breasted mergansers flying low across the bay, passing behind the islands.  To my delight, the streaming flock continued to pass for ten minutes or more, likely composed of at least 2000 ducks.

Unlike their cousins (common and hooded mergansers), which winter on open freshwater lakes and rivers across much of North America, red-breasted mergansers prefer coastal bays and estuaries, where they feed with pelicans, cormorants, loons, ospreys and other sea birds.  There they gather in huge flocks, diving for fish and joining in the feeding frenzies that often develop at low tide.

Indeed, of all the sea birds that winter on Sarasota Bay, red-breasted mergansers are likely the most abundant.  On some days, only a few are encountered while, on others, these attractive ducks nearly cover the inlet.

Atlantic Needlefish

One of the more interesting predators along our seawall is the Atlantic needlefish.  These streamlined, long-jawed fish dart about a barnacle-encrusted rock pile at a bend in the wall, snaring small fish with their numerous sharp teeth; young needlefish, tiny replicas of the adults, hunt in schools, feeding on a host of marine invertebrates.  The needlefish themselves are potential prey for larger fish, inshore sharks and dolphins.

Found along the western coast of the Atlantic Ocean, from Maine to Brazil, these distinctive fish favor shallow, calm, brackish waters near mangroves, marinas, piers and seawalls.  Tolerant of freshwater, many travel up coastal rivers and some have been found as far inland as the Tennessee River watershed (having traversed canals from Gulf Coast streams).  Spawning occurs in May or June, the eggs harboring tendrils that attach to aquatic vegetation.

While Atlantic needlefish are officially listed as gamefish (adults may reach 2-3 feet in length), they are more often caught accidentally and are generally used as bait.  Some of us, not inclined to drown worms for recreation, simply enjoy watching these "saltwater gar" as they zoom about the shallows of Sarasota Bay.

An Aerial Attack

On this cool, breezy day on Longboat Key, we took our usual walk along the beach.  Unfortunately, there was little to observe during our two mile walk; small flocks of sanderlings and ruddy turnstones scoured the beach, a few ring-billed gulls and royal terns lounged on the sand and a squadron of brown pelicans braved the choppy Gulf.

Once we returned to our condo, however, the activity increased abruptly.  My attention was suddenly drawn toward Sarasota Bay as the cries of an osprey rose to a frenzy, a large fish clutched in his talons. The cause for his alarm was soon apparent as an adult bald eagle swooped in from the shore, chasing the osprey across the bay.  Near collisions followed and the smaller raptor eventually dropped his dinner, some fifty feet off our seawall.  The eagle made one last pass, snaring the fish and heading off to enjoy his meal.

While we like to think of our National Bird as a regal hunter, he is more often a scavenger or a thief, feasting on injured waterfowl, picking at the carcass of a deer or elk, finishing off salmon or seals killed by bears and, as we observed today, stealing fish from ospreys.  Then again, he is at the top of his food chain.

Convict Fish

Of all the fish that congregate along our seawall on Sarasota Bay, sheepshead are among the most common.  Often called "convict fish" due to their prominent black and silver stripes, sheepshead are medium-sized marine fish, found along the western Atlantic Coast from Nova Scotia to Brazil; their numbers are especially high in southwest Florida.

Favoring inshore, brackish habitats, sheepshead are best found near mangroves, piers, jetties, seawalls and tidal creek inlets.  They are omnivorous predators, consuming small fish, crustaceans, aquatic insects, a host of marine invertebrates and some aquatic plants.  Come March and April, sheepshead move offshore to spawn but still prefer to gather near human structures or natural reefs.

Members of the porgy and seabream family, which is represented by more than 120 species worldwide, convict fish are prized for their mild, white flesh and are commonly placed in aquariums due to their attractive markings.  Natural predators include a variety of inshore sharks and large fish.

Banded Knots on Longboat Key

This afternoon, while walking along the beach on Longboat Key, Florida, I came across a flock of thirteen red knots; on closer inspection, I discovered that three of them had multiple leg bands of various shapes and colors.

Over the past few decades, ornithologists and conservation organizations have been banding certain species of shorebirds, attempting to document their seasonal ranges and migration patterns.  Participating countries along the Atlantic flyway have been assigned specific band colors and banding site codes have been used to clarify the movement of the birds.  Unfortunately, the latter codes (printed or engraved on the bands) are often difficult to read unless a spotting scope is available or, of course, the bird is dead.

Once I documented the color and type of bands on the red knots (only one of which contained a code), I submitted the report to www.bandedbirds.org; in addition, I established a profile with that organization, hoping to submit additional sightings over the coming years.  After all, most conservation organizations depend on both financial and active support from the public and those of us who care about the welfare of threatened species and endangered ecosystems relish the opportunity to participate in their vital work.