Listing Through Life

ammospiza maritima

St. Augustine, Florida – Dr. Robert Hayling Freedom Park

Saturday, March 29, 2025 – 8:18 am

For some reason, in my mind this bird became the make-or-break species when I evaluated the success or failure of my trip to Florida. In fact, based on the advice of an Arkansas birder, I rerouted my planned itinerary to include Jekyll Island, in Georgia, specifically to see a Seaside Sparrow. I made a few efforts to find one along the causeway to the island, but when a local birder told me I had little chance unless the tide was very high – which it wasn’t during my visit – I was out of luck.

Several had been seen at the various parks along the coast northeast of Jacksonville, and I tried all those spots where one had been seen in the past month with no luck. There was even one supposedly found on Tuesday at a park I was at. I went back on Wednesday morning to try to find it, but struck out.

On to Orlando, and I figured I’d missed Seaside Sparrow. But on the Lake Apopka Wildlife Drive, I met a friendly local birder who was willing and eager to help me find anything I needed. When I mentioned my failure to find a Seaside Sparrow, he mentioned a little park between the Matanzas and San Sebastian Rivers where they were almost a sure thing if I timed my visit with high tide. St. Augustine was behind me, tripwise, and it meant retracing my steps, but I hardly hesitated.

On Saturday morning, I got up early to be at the park by 9:11, when the tide reached its high point. In fact, I got there almost an hour early. The park was basically a parking lot and a short loop trail around a scrubby peninsula, but on three sides it bordered a salt marsh.

I started walking along the west side, knowing that it wasn’t yet the magical time, but looking and listening anyway. When I got over to the east side, I almost immediately heard one singing. I walked to where the grass ended and a three-foot wide border of rocks began. Beyond the rocks was marsh.

Within half a minute, I spotted a Seaside Sparrow, and during the half hour I remained at that spot, I saw and heard several others. They came and went, so I don’t actually know how many I saw. I estimated four, but it could have been eight or it could have been one very active one. At one point, one perched within the grasses and sang in plain view.

It’s a large, dark gray sparrow with rufous wings, a yellow eye-stripe, a white throat, and a huge bill (for a sparrow). My trip was saved.

porphyrio poliocephallus

Apopka, Florida – Lake Apopka Wildlife Drive

Friday, March 28, 2025 – 7:35 am

In January, 2020, I went to Orlando with coworkers for a convention. My boss “graciously” allowed me to skip one single session to bird, so I rented a car and made a mad morning dash to Newton Park on Lake Apopka. I thought about sticking around for an additional day, but for whatever reason, I didn’t. I’ve regretted it ever since because I found out about the Lake Apopka Wildlife Drive where a couple of birds, that would have been lifers for me at that time, are regularly seen.

When I planned my 2025 trip, I organized everything around my visit to the drive, which is only open Friday-Sunday. My remaining target bird was the Gray-headed Swamphen, an Asian species that escaped into the wild in the late 1990s and has established itself to the point that it is now countable.

The swamphen is a big, gangly rail that looks like a Purple Gallinule on steroids. I was only about a quarter mile along the drive when I spotted my first one. It was standing in the road, but scurried off into the marsh before I could get a decent photo. No worries. I soon saw another one on the road and this time I stopped an took photos before getting too close. Later, I saw one fly across a patch of open water and land in the reeds and a fourth one foraging in the reeds across an open marsh.

Basically, all of them were walking around picking at the ground like chickens, which probably accounts for its name. The heads of females are blue, the heads of males are gray, but I’m not sure what color I’d call the head on this one.

morus bassanus

Jacksonville, Florida – Kathryn Abbey Hanna Park

Wednesday, March 26, 2005 – 2:00 pm

Northern Gannets are common off the coast of Florida. The only question is whether one comes close enough to shore to be identified. They’re a large seabird, with long, narrow wings and pointed tail and head/bill. The wings are white with black triangles at the tips. Their most distinguishing feature is the way they feed, with fast plunges at full speed into the water for fish.

Wednesday was a frustrating day. To begin with, I had to drive 180 degrees around Jacksonville to get from where I was staying to where I wanted to bird. I spent the morning looking for Seaside Sparrows at several locations where they’d been seen recently, with a notable lack of success. I’d pretty much exhausted the birding opportunities in the area, but still have half a day to go. My niece had mentioned this park as a possible place to check out, and it was close. So that’s where I went.

There are several access points to the Atlantic Ocean beach, and the one I picked at random had a covered picnic shelter on a dune looking over the water. I decided to take advantage of the shade to relax and look for gannets. I pulled out my new scope and checked out every bird flying up and down the shore. After perhaps a half hour, I spotted one that I thought might be a gannet. It even made a dive. But it was way out and disappeared before I’d convinced myself.

I sent another half hour sorting through the gulls, terns, and Brown Pelicans, which can look surprisingly white in the midday sun. Eventually I spotted another candidate. It headed generally from south to north, circling, dipping, and flapping. In the five minutes or so that I had it in my view, it wheeled in such a way that I could see the bright white wings with black triangles. I could also see a long white tail and a long head/bill. It was too far out for me to clearly distinguish between the head and the bill, but I definitely saw yellow on more than one occasion, which is the color of an adult gannet’s head. On two occasions, it made one of its plunge dives, and several other times it began a dive but then pulled up.

It moved toward the north until it reached a point a little beyond where I was, then began drifting and circling back south until I lost sight of it. It helped that there were many gulls, terns, and pelicans in the area to compare it with, and I have no doubt it was a gannet, although it was way too far out and moving too much to attempt a photo.

pavo cristatus

Fort George Island Cultural State Park, Florida – Ribault Club

Tuesday, March 25, 2025 – 8:52 am

Your basic peacock. Apparently, a population has established itself in the “wild” in Florida and has survived long enough to become countable on bird lists. It wasn’t a big goal of mine, but since I was in the area …

The Ribault Club is a resort from the 1920s, restored as part of a state park and open for events and weddings. Except on the day I was there. It’s also a place where peafowl are reported regularly. The parking lot was open, so I figured it was OK for me to walk the grounds. I wasn’t out of the car for a minute before I heard a peacock give it screeching cry. A minute later I found it – on the roof the building. We stood and looked at each other for a few minutes, and then I wandered the grounds looking for other birds.

Perhaps 45 minutes later, I saw the peacock strolling across the grass under the trees. I stood where I could get decent photos as it passed within three feet of me on its way down to the shore. It’s an impressive bird, even if seeing one involved no challenge whatsoever.

charadrius wilsonia

Jekyll Island, Georgia – South Beach

Monday, March 24, 2025 – 3:29 pm

I was definitely on the lookout for Wilson’s Plovers, especially after a half-mile section of the beach was roped off with signs every 50 yards that said it was a Wilson’s Plover breeding area. Seconds after I first saw the oystercatchers, I spotted a Wilson’s running along the sand near the rope. It stopped next to a pile of beach debris and stood and watched me walk past.

Later, on my way back down the beach, I spotted it again, and then several more, including two that were chasing each other in what I assume was courtship. They acted like typical plovers, running and stopping. And they looked like typical plovers, with brown backs, white colors, and a black band across the chest. The bill was black a longer and sturdier than that of other plovers. I heard a couple of them give their sharp call.