Category: Butterfly

A Cache of Good Finds

I’m having so much fun with the titles lately.


South of the Shawnee Hills in Illinois (yes, you CAN go that far south) lies an entirely new ecosystem, the Gulf Coastal Plain- several hundred miles from the Ocean.  However, thanks to the Mississippi River Valley, this ecosystem extends as far north as Southern Illinois. The Cache River Valley is the northern outpost of the Gulf Coastal Plain.  Here Southeastern species like the Prothonotary Warbler (Protonotaria citrea) live.  This bird is actually a bit late- it should have left for South America in August!  Next spring, it will be pure yellow, with dark wings.


Pink Turtlehead (Chelone obliqua) is an uncommon wetland plant of the Wabash River Valley in Indiana and Illinois, the southern Blue Ridge Mountains in North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia.  In between, it’s very patchily distributed.  This is one of those plants where the range map fascinates me, with wide, seemingly-random gaps between populations.


Spiny Softshell Turtles (Apalone spinifera) were fairly common, I saw about five or so.  They enjoyed basking in the nearby creek.


Spiny Softshell Turtles get their name from the spiny growths on their shells, above their necks.  You can see this on the big turtle above.


Cardinal Flower (Lobelia cardinalis) is fairly common in the swamp down here, though not forming pure stands of red flowers as it does in other parts of Illinois.


Wild Garden Phlox (Phlox paniculata) grew in a nearby parking lot, the last phlox of the year.


A  boardwalk ran through dried Heron Pond- the late summer has brought its usual drought, and the swamp was nothing but mud and tall trees.


Baldcypress (Taxodium distichum) forests like this one are at the edge of their native range in southern Illinois.  While these aren’t the giant Baldcypress trees found in other parts of the Cache, I was impressed with this grove, the yellow-green needles like a forest of gold.


And here be giants.  This is the State Champion Cherrybark Oak (Quercus pagoda) tree- the biggest tree I’ve ever seen in Illinois!  Cherrybark Oaks, like Baldcypress, are Coastal Plain trees that swing north here in their distributions.


My hat is over a foot wide at the brim.  This is a massive tree.


I then raced over to Cave Creek Glade, where IDNR had arranged a guided hike.  All four of us (one guide, three people) climbed up the steep glade (rocky, grassy slope surrounded by woodland).


Cave Creek Glade Nature Preserve is one of the most well-preserved in Illinois. Regular fires and volunteer maintenance make for a plant community nearly-identical to that of Native American times.  I do find it funny how keeping an area “natural” involves so much work!


Yellow Horse-gentian (Triosteum angustifolium), with its axillary (between the leaves and main stem) flowers and seedpods, was a favorite of our guide’s for this unusual flower placement.


I think this is Eastern Marbleseed (Lithospermum parviflorum).  At any rate, it’s a Marbleseed.  The small, rock-hard white seeds provide the name for this plant.


Pearl Crescent (Phyciodes tharos) butterflies live upon Asters.  They’re common favorites of mine, though I believe I saw more back home where Heath Asters are more common.


A Least Flycatcher (Empidonax minimus) sat in a tree. (If I’m obviously wrong, let me know, but the call sounded like it and it looked like one to the best of my limited ability to discern such things.  Empidonax flycatchers lead to ID anxiety for even the best birders.)


One of the most “natural” areas in Illinois, there’s virtually no non-native plants beyond a certain point on Cave Creek Glade.  This is one of the best-maintained natural areas in Illinois because of how uninvaded it is.  As Cave Creek Glade is a dry rocky hillside so hot that on an 80°F day,  no insects hid under its rocks, (I checked, hoping for the bizarre Vonones ornatus harvestmen), I suspect the conditions are too extreme for most  introduced, nonnative species.


If I remember correctly, this is  Smooth Aster (Symphyotrichum laeve ).


This Blue Sage (Salvia azurea) is a State-Threatened plant species restricted to far southern Illinois.  It grows more commonly in the southern Great Plains and the southeastern coastal plains.   This area’s Blue Sage are part of a disjunct population centered around far western Kentucky, and this is one of the few spots in Illinois where they are present.


Another find was this odd small-flowered plant with blue flowers.  I believe it’s Fluxweed (Trichostema brachiatum), after some internet research.


Crinoid  and brachiopod fossils could be found in some of the limestone rocks of which the glade was composed.  However, as this is an Illinois Nature Preserve, there is NO collecting of any fossils here. If you visit and you find fossils here, please leave them for other people to enjoy, or else you are actually breaking the law.  That being said, I’d never considered fossil-hunting in Southern Illinois as something I could potentially do in areas where this is permitted.


The views from Cave Creek Glade were something we could take home, in the form of pictures and memories.  In a month or less, this will be a spectacular place for fall colors.


Meanwhile, in the vicinity of these areas, on a trail, I spotted this Cottonmouth crossing.  A family with their three kids and dog came along, as did one of the people from the Cave Creek Glade hike.  The Cottonmouth lazily got out of their way as they passed along the side of the trail behind it and well out of the strike range (half the snakes body length). Cottonmouths are not aggressive, but there’s no sense in getting too close to a venomous snake.  The snake departed into the woods, evidently disdaining the sudden amount of traffic on its quiet path.


While I didn’t see much more of the Cache than this, I enjoyed what I got to see, and there will be many more visits in the future.  The largest and oldest tree in Illinois, a Baldcypress, grows in this area- and I plan to make a trip back to find it sometime soon!


A Grand Little Grand Canyon


There is a widespread belief that Starved Rock State Park has the best canyons in Illlinois.  In addition to being wrong, this belief is usually held by people not acquainted with the Shawnee Hills.  I am fast becoming acquainted, and enjoying it immensely.  Speaking of immense, the Little Grand Canyon is the longest trail I’ve hiked in the Shawnee National Forest.  Let’s talk about that.

(Yes, that was a reference to Good Mythical Morning.)


Little Grand Canyon is a box canyon, so named because it’s flat on the sides and flat on bottom.  The length of the trail varies between 2.9 and 3.6 miles, depending on what source you use.  It’s a long trail with >300 feet of elevation change both down and back.  That’s difficult in Illinois terms, if not really difficult anywhere else in the US.  Little Grand Canyon is worth the hike, however.  For instance, in the photo above the dark stems are Beechdrops (Epifagus virginianus), an unusual parasite of beeches that never produces leaves.  Furthermore, the small paired round leaves growing below it are Partridge Berry (Mitchellia repens), an uncommon plant in Illinois.  These two are but the tip of the iceberg when it comes to life here.


A Red-spotted Purple (Limenitis arthemis) drank moisture from a moist boulder.


Yellow Passion Flower (Passiflora lutea)  trailed over the slope of the canyon. This lifer plant is a relative of the tropical Passion Flower vines commonly grown in gardens.


The entry is a very round, shaded, wet trench of slick rock.  Little Grand Canyon is on my ever-growing list of places you should never hike alone, for several reasons.


Life throughout the canyon was fascinating.  It’s a large area, and we found much in it…


In dry cracks in the sandstone, Cave Crickets hid.  These are also colloquially called “Sprickets” for their long legs and generally unnerving appearance, resembling a spider/cricket hybrid.  However, they don’t bite and are generally non-hostile.


Wetter crevices in the surrounding area, and the use of a flashlight, turned up a few Long-tailed Salamanders (Eurycea longicaudata), a lifer for me. Long-tailed Salamanders are “cave salamanders”- considered one of an informal group of salamanders whom prefer dark damp crevices and cave entrances.  The other informal group Long-taileds belong to, the “brook salamanders”, refers to the fact that they also can be found under stones along streams.


Long-tailed Salamanders, whatever their name is, proved to be amazingly elusive.  I had always believed that salamanders were slow-moving creatures, and in comparison to lizards, they are.  The speed of sound is slower than the speed of light, but both outpace a man.  It’s the same here.  I also have some moral issues with catching salamanders- unlike reptiles, which have scales, amphibians have skin that is very easily damaged.  Handling amphibians is not recommended.


A Gray Treefrog (Hyla sp.) perched along the edge of the bluffs, in a little niche.


Walking Ferns (Asplenium rhizophyllum) grew in a mossier section.  This is a species of fern I hadn’t seen in Illinois before.  They grow small plantlets at the tips of every leaf, which root into the moss to grow new plants which then grow leaves with plantlets on the end, and so on.


Green Frogs (Rana clamitans) hid in mossy niches and cracks down low near the base.  There were plenty of these in a wide variety of color forms.


In sheltered spots, clubmosses grew, my first for IL.  Clubmosses look like large mosses, but they have a different anatomy which includes a vascular system.  They prefer wet acidic rocky, high-quality natural areas- which most of Illinois isn’t, but Little Grand Canyon is, in parts.


On the canyon floor, Southern Leopard Frogs (Rana spenocephala) hopped about along the various pools.  The rocky creekbed along the canyon only remained in the form of small pockets of water, each holding a unique group of fish, frogs and other animals and plants.  No two pools had the same species composition- depth, shade, substrate, and proximity to the walls of the canyon varied greatly.  The diversity of microhabitats here is impressive.  Microhabitats are small patches of varied terrain, soil type, moisture, light, etc. within one major habitat.  Knowing microhabitats is usually more important in finding a species than just knowing general habitats.


Crayfish hid under rocks along the streambed and waved their claws menacingly whenever their rocks were disturbed.


There were over a dozen clearly distinct fish species in the pools, including this Orangethroat Darter (Etheostoma spectable).  Orangethroat Darter is a fairly common species of rocky creeks in the Midwest, but this is my first time finding one in Illinois.  Darters, which mostly like unpolluted rocky creeks, generally dislike Illinois, which is full of polluted muddy creeks except on its edges.  Darters get their name from the way they move- they rest on the bottom among rocks and swim rapidly from rock to rock, before settling again.  All Darter fish are found in North America only, where two hundred and thirteen species thrive, many restricted to only one or two river drainages.  The Ozarks and the Cumberland Plateau are especially noted for this, with almost every river in those areas having its own unique species of darter.  This led to one of the first major conservation battles back in the day, Snail Darter vs. Tellico Dam. See link for details.


Unusual rock formations in the bluffs indicate Little Grand Canyon’s ecological past and present usage by animals.  This area’s cracks and crevices play a vital role for snakes and other creatures that need to overwinter underground.   At one point, Little Grand Canyon was known as Rattlesnake Den for its large population of Timber Rattlesnakes.  These were overcollected and/or killed here and throughout the state, leading to a severely diminished population statewide.  Timber Rattlesnakes are now State-threatened in Illinois, and while they are not present in large numbers anywhere in this state, a few  secret, protected hibernation den sites still persist.


In addition to venomous snakes (Copperheads persist in fairly decent numbers throughout the Shawnee Hills, including this site), Little Grand Canyon’s  steep, slick rock cliffs are the other reason this place shouldn’t be hiked alone.  People have died from falling over the edge of the cliffs here.  It’s amazing, but not the safest place in the world.


The tree in the center, along with other plants surrounding it, were notably darker than everything else around it.  I have no idea why this is.   Perhaps some sort of fungus?  If so, it’s affecting all of the vegetation in the immediate vicinity of the tree… I should investigate this.


We climbed back up the canyon, past an area rich in plants and also in poor lighting- hence the lack of photos from our way out of the canyon.


Well above a waterfall, I flipped two rocks.  One yielded this tiny crayfish, ~150 feet above the valley floor.  I wish there was a guide to Crayfish of Illinois- I haven’t found one yet.  I might have to make one… that’d be a project.


At the top, a Fence Lizard (Sceloporus undulatus)  sat on a wooden fence.  What a surprise.  The fence was at the top of one of the finer overlooks in Illinois.  It’s a solid No. 6 behind Fults Hill Prairie, Inspiration Point,  Grandview Drive, Meredosia Hill Prairie, and Pere Marquette State Park.  I will someday come up with a list of the best scenic overlooks in Illinois. This will be on it.

After this overlook, the trail undulates up and down a ridge for a mile back to the parking lot.  If I hadn’t been spoiled by the trail I’d just hiked, the upland forest here might have been enjoyable.  As it was, I was a bit too tired and running a bit late to notice.  I would recommend taking this path in reverse order, starting out going west (left) and going in a clockwise loop back. However, no matter how you walk it, Little Grand Canyon is one of the finest places to visit in Illinois and currently holds the title of best canyon I’ve ever visited in Illinois.  If you’d like Starved Rock with a tenth of the people, a slightly longer trail,  a bigger, wilder canyon, and far more diverse flora and fauna, visit Little Grand Canyon… with a friend or two.


Ebird Checklist (It’s back!):

When You Dip, Don’t Trip On The Cottonmouths


It’s time to introduce the word “dip” to nonbirders, and I don’t mean something you’d put on chips.  Nor do I mean the substance that seems to be the subject of every YouTube ad I see lately. Dipping on a bird means missing it.  I don’t know where that originated, but it’s a thing.

On August 17, a  Swallow-tailed Kite, one of the most beautiful hawks in the world, was seen at Duck Creek Conservation Area in Missouri, less than two hours from where I live.  Due to a lack of internet information about the bird (it’s in a weird gap zone where it’s common enough to not be reported widely and rare enough that it ought to be)  the Swallow-tailed Kite was not seen again until the 24th, and then it was seen the 24th through the 27th.  I heard about it on the 26th of August, but I wasn’t able to go and look for it until August 31- several days after any reports.  For a rural area like Stoddard County, Missouri, that’s not a surprise.  It’s the edge of the Ozarks, near significant wetlands but not near population centers.  The closest city of more than 20,000 people is Cape Girardeau, about an hour away.   So, I had a chance, if I got out early in the morning and checked for it flying about in the rising air currents. This would be my 300th species of wild bird I’ve seen in the United States.  Mentally, I couldn’t wait, but…


Cut to August 31.  I wake up, groggily, and look at my alarm, faded memories of turning it off some hours previously running through my brain.  It’s 9:30 AM.  I wanted to be on the road at 8 AM.  Well, I massively screwed up.  The weather was gray and cloudy as I drove over to Duck Creek Conservation Area, arriving around 12:00 PM.  Gray and overcast skies, lightly drizzling with cold rain, the edge of the old Hurricane Harvey storm system- terrible weather for hawks and singing migrants, and depression inducing for me.  And that’s before reflecting on the fact that this storm killed 51 people and displaced thousands, including a few people I know.


Whenever you’re complaining, it’s always good to remember there’s people in worse situations.  I stopped complaining, and I stopped the car, at the spot.  No Kite in sight- nothing moving.  Well, there was still plenty to see.  I waited for several minutes, scanning the nearby area, which had a few Cardinal Flowers (Lobelia cardinalis).  I decided to go check out Duck Creek Conservation Area’s main section after waiting for awhile with no sightings, and so I did.


It turned out to contain a 1,800 acre lake, 2/3 of which was American Lotus (Nelumbo lutea).  That’s 1,200 acres of American Lotus.  Back in late July, the main bloom season, that had to have been a spectacle!  Even now, it was still impressive, the massive platter-sized leaves floating on the water or emerging up en masse, a little worn from a long growing season.


If there’s any spot north of Texas where a Northern Jacana could show up, it might be here.  A Northern Jacana, for the unaware, is this little Central American bird with huge feet that wades around on lily-pads and lotus leaves.  They have the largest feet, relative to body size, of any bird.  It’s a bird I’ve always wanted to see,  but almost certainly none will ever show up here.  Anyway, that was a tangent of hypothetical nonsense.  I just like Jacanas.  Back to more photos of the lake.


Duck Creek Conservation Area, and the nearby Mingo National Wildlife Refuge, sit in an odd location.  To the southeast is Crowley’s Ridge, a raised line stretching over 150 miles from southwest of Cape Girardeau, Missouri to Helena, Arkansas, on the border of the Mississippi River and Mississippi itself.  On both sides of Crowley’s Ridge are floodplains, and several miles west of the floodplains at this point, the edge of the Ozarks rises up.  It’s odd geography, because in the middle, at Duck Creek and Mingo, you can see a chain of not-very-distant hills looking either northwest or southeast, as you can see above and below:


Those trees in the lake itself are Bald Cypress (Taxodium distichum), the quintessential Southeastern swamp tree.  They grow here in large numbers, though none of them are the giants they can be on old-growth forests.  This entire area was logged, and if it had stayed dry it would be farmland or ranchland like the surrounding area.  Continued flooding ensured its survival.


This 1800-acre lake is a perfect rectangle (of course it’s artificial) with roads all the way around.  It was built to control water flow in the area, holding water during wet seasons and releasing it in dry seasons.  This conservation area, as well as Mingo NWR, is built around providing winter food for duck populations.  And, of course, duck hunting.  During duck season, the conservation area is closed to non-hunters.  Next February, I think this might be a really fun place to visit for ducks.


White Water Lilies (Nymphaea odorata) bloomed among the lotus.


I moved away from the lake, and decided to venture into the back 40 of the conservation area.  I was met with a scene out of National Geographic- a ton of herons in a tree.  Specifically, these are Cattle Egrets (Bubulcus ibis), a species which is moving through Southern IL and MO currently:


I then decided, mapless, to try taking a back way over to Mingo.  While inevitably lost in the edge of the Ozarks, I spotted three beat-up graffiti-ed trailers – and one perfectly large, healthy, tropical banana tree growing in a pot in the middle.   Owing to my unfortunately persistent ethnic stereotypes of trailer-dwelling Ozarkians as shotgun-wielding meth users, I didn’t stop for a photo.  It does fascinate me how in our “politically-correct” society, no one cares if you mock country people in the hills who live below the poverty line.  But I digress.

Anyway, I bring up the banana tree as part of my rule of country driving.  “If you drive for two hours in the country, not on the interstate, you’ll see something weird.  Sometimes the weird is a bird.  Most of the time it’s not.”  There’s also the Southern Wilderness and Carbondale Addenda, as follows:  “In the Ozarks, Cumberland Plateau, and Shawnee Hills, the finding-something-weird time is one hour- and in Carbondale, Illinois, it’s five minutes.”

Getting myself un-lost by turning around and driving to the Kite spot yet again (with no luck), I proceeded over to Mingo National Wildlife Refuge.  I found a calling Least Flycatcher, an early migrant, on the way when I pulled off at a marsh overlook to check Google Maps.  I also learned that Mingo charges admission: $3 per day or $12 per year.  It’s a giant swamp. That’ll be $12.


The Visitor’s Center proved to have very helpful staff.  In fact, it was one of the nicest visitor’s centers I’ve ever explored.  They told me that Yellow-crowned Night Herons are common on the refuge in the spring- the last Midwestern heron I have yet to see.  At that point, I was glad I’d bought the year pass, without knowing yet what was to come.  A Tawny Emperor (Asterocampa clyton) l butterfly landed outside, on the pavement, as did something else:


I had no idea that Robber Flies, feared insect predators of mosquitoes, were also able to hunt dragonflies like this Green Darner (Anax junius).  This fly was over an inch long, and completely harmless to humans.  In fact, Robber Flies eat mosquitoes, so we want them around.


On the edge of the roads, I found masses of Sneezeweed (Helenium amarum), so named because settlers used it to cure colds and because it blooms as the same time as Ragweed, thus making people think they are allergic to it.  The scientific name is better- Helenium refers to Helen of Troy- according to Greek myth the most beautiful woman in the world.  Helenium isn’t the most beautiful flower in the world (Showy Lady’s Slipper is), but it is a pleasant one I quite enjoy.


A Three-Toed Box Turtle (Terrapene carolina triunguis) , Missouri’s official state reptile, wandered about on the path.  I’d seen a couple before, but this is my first time seeing one well.


Red-eared Sliders (Trachemys scripta elegans) were everywhere.  I was hoping to find maybe a rarer turtle, but as this is slow-moving muddy waters, few unusual turtles were visible.


Another animal that was everywhere was the Little Blue Heron (Egretta caerula)- the white immature form.  I found exactly one adult Little Blue Heron, in the photo above.  After this, I drove up to one of several overlooks on the edge of Crowley’s Ridge.  Far off is the eastern Ozarks.


If you don’t like snakes, and you somehow tolerated the Robber Fly, this is the perfect spot to end off.  From here on in, it’s a lot of snakes- albeit four lifer snakes!  These were all found someplace within or near Mingo- not the same place, and I’m not saying where.  Mingo National Wildlife Refuge is over 21,000 acres of habitat, and combined with the 2,400 acres of Duck Creek, it’s a massive tract of wilderness.  Snake poachers can have fun figuring all that out, although most of the species I saw aren’t exactly the most popular for collecting.  If I’d seen Kingsnakes, Rattlesnakes, or Milk Snakes, the most popular snakes to be collected, I’d be considerably more elusive about the locations.  If you ever seen a large, colorful or venomous snake in the wild, don’t announce specifically where it is, or there’s a good chance it will be taken away.


Western Ribbon Snakes (Thamnophis proximus) are common in wetlands here, and this neonate was hiding in such an area- the only flipped snake of the day.  By flipped,  I mean that I turned something over to find it.  Everybody else was out and about.


That includes my first lifer snake of the day,  a Broad-banded Watersnake (Nerodia fasciata confluens).  Hiding in the woody tangles along one of the many ditches, this Southeastern species is one of several species of snakes whose Southern ranges curve upwards along the Mississippi River Valley floodplain, of which this is technically a part.  I had forgotten these live in Missouri- they’ve been extirpated (died out) from what was once a very limited Illinois range.


Another lifer  was the Diamondback Watersnake (Nerodia rhombifer), one of North America’s larger watersnake species,  generally found in the southern parts of the Great Plains and Mississippi River drainage.  This particular specimen was at least three and a half feet long!


Unsuprisingly, the third one was another Nerodia watersnake, the Plain-bellied Watersnake (Nerodia erythogaster).  It was in the middle of a road and decided to quickly cross that road and get away from me. So, the above photo is the only one I have.


Later down that same road, a large, thick-bodied snake with a very angular head began to cross- my very first Cottonmouth (Agkistrodon piscivorus), forty feet away.  Cottonmouths have much thicker bodies and far more angular heads than any other snake I’ve ever seen in the wild.   There’s so many myths about these, one of North America’s more common venomous snakes, that I feel I may have to do a little mythbustering here.  Cottonmouths are reluctant to bite- handling, harassing or stepping on a Cottonmouth hard are the best ways to get bitten.  I’ve been told on multiple occasions that Cottonmouths will chase people, but that isn’t entirely true.  If a Cottonmouth sees a threat,  its first instinct is to escape, preferably into nearby water.  If the person happens to be between the nearest water source and the Cottonmouth, it may slip right by the person en route to the water.  So, a Cottonmouth may appear to be chasing a person, while doing nothing of the sort- the exact opposite, in fact.

Also, the range of a Cottonmouth does not extend past the Shawnee Hills in Illinois.  I occasionally end up in arguments with people whose all-knowing “country uncles” say they see Cottonmouths throughout central or northern Illinois.  I usually end those by offering to get bitten by said snake, sight unseen.  (I won’t be saying that in southern Missouri or where I live now.)  There’s a joke that all snakes in the US have been called Cottonmouths at some point.  The sad part about this is that nearly all US snakes, especially watersnakes, have been killed as “Cottonmouths”.  I understand if you don’t like snakes- I’m not too fond of spiders or wasps.  But please let them be. Leaving a snake alone is the surest way to not be bitten.

(Then again, if you don’t like snakes, how did you make it this far?)


After all of this, I decided to drive around the refuge, and see the sights:


Currently my best photo of a Yellow-billed Cuckoo (Coccyzus americanus) is this one above.   These birds are my photographic nemesis, as I’ve mentioned previously.


I ended up driving all of the Wildlife Loop, scaring up some turkeys, a Red-shouldered Hawk, and a few scenic views, all the way from Crowley’s Ridge across the floodplains to the Ozarks -three different natural divisions in less than twenty miles!  Crowley’s Ridge is considered to have flora more characteristic of the Appalachians than the Ozarks, and the wetlands between are similar to those of the Gulf Coast or Lower Mississippi River Valley in general.


From here to southern Indiana, centered on the Shawnee Hills is a major transition zone.  The edge of the Great Plains is a little bit north of here, and the edge of the Gulf Coastal Plain natural division is right up against this- in fact, in the photo above, you’re looking at a little bit of it.  To the west, the Ozark Mountains form their own unique natural division, while to the east the edge of the Cumberland Plateau and by extension the edge of the Appalachian Mountain range, just barely misses Illinois, but much of its flora and fauna are present.  As I mentioned, Crowley’s Ridge, which you can see below,  is, to some degree, an extension of that area.


Northern prairies meet southern swamps, and eastern forests meet western woodlands- and it’s all happening here!  Add to this the fact that the world’s third largest river flows through the middle of it, and that many North American birds use this area to migrate- well, it’s just all very, very, exciting for me, that I get to live in this area now.


The Wildlife Loop proved to have some wildlife, with three Raccoons (Procyon lotor) at various spots.  One individual, roaming along the banks of a ditch, remained for a photo in the dying light of a clouded sunset.  I ended up out of the Loop, to find:


A thicker-than-usual line appeared in the grass in the middle of a road.  Neonate (young) Cottonmouth!   The angled head, when it popped up, was a dead giveaway.  I approached to within six feet- it’s a snake that’s a foot long, after all, and I have leg protection in the form of snake guards.  (Sometime I’ll do a blog showing all the gear I have.)  It watched me- I watched it.  Neither of us moved for a minute, but neither approached the other.  I then backed away, and the snake took off for the side of the road, away from me.  Good luck out there, young Cottonmouth.


After this, I checked the Kite spot, yet again, and saw nothing.  It was getting dark, and driving exhausts me.  I stopped in a rural town for gas, which was $2.26.  A couple hours later, my new hometown had it for $2.59.  Always stop for gas in Missouri, if you live in Illinois.

I may have dipped on the Swallow-tailed Kite, but I’ll take four lifer snakes, a few good birds, and two amazing areas to explore in exchange.  In order to make the cost of that Mingo year pass worthwhile, I have to visit three more times…


Ebird Checklist for Mingo NWR:


Grand Tower Island- and Finally, the Anhinga.


Grand Tower Island is one of the best spots I’ve ever birded.  Sweeping views, a large number of wetlands, quiet conditions and a lack of irritating insects past the occasional horsefly make this spot downright amazing.  The only downside is that you sort of have to invent your own parking spots- it’s a road on a decently wide levee, surrounded by acres of private land.


This is the story of my first trip here, despite it being a bit “spoiled” for readers in earlier posts.  Still, it’s hard to spoil such a beautiful and wondrous place completely!


Grand Tower Island gets its name from Grand Tower, Illinois, a town which gets its name from Grand Tower, an island in the Mississippi (not to be mistaken with Grand Tower Island) that looks like someone took Starved Rock and stuck it in the middle of the river.


Looking out from Grand Tower-the-city boat launch, just across from Grand Tower-the-rock, and just north of Grand Tower-the-island-but-not-the-rock,  you can see Buttonbush (Cephalanthus occidentalis) with Tiger Swallowtails (Papilio glaucus) and other butterflies all over it.  Fun fact:  Buttonbushes are in the same taxonomic family as  the coffee tree.


In the riprap along the edge of the Mississippi River at the boat lauch, I found this Spotted Sandpiper (Actitis macularius).  It posed well for photos before flying downriver.  Spotted Sandpipers are found by moving water far more often than most sandpipers, and they often hunt for food along riverbanks.  I’ve just never seen one on a river quite this large before!


I drove down Grand Tower Island, looking for whatever I could see.  At this time, I’d never been there before, so the numbers of herons were overwhelming. Many of these were Cattle Egrets (Bulbulculs ibis), either resting in the fields or playing a sort of “leapfrog” over one another, presumably to stir up insects to eat.


Cattle Egrets in North America are a new development- and yet not deliberately introduced, unlike House Sparrows or Starlings- both of which were brought over and set free on this continent.  In 1877, Cattle Egrets appeared in South America, evidently having flown across the ocean.  In the 1930s, they began expanding their range rapidly, and by 1953 they were breeding in Florida.  Now they live as far north as Canada, and appear on every continent.


This is something they did themselves- no people introduced them.  Cattle Egrets like cattle habitat, feeding on insects that livestock stir up. No cattle live on Grand Tower Island, but it seems to be popular with this species anyway.


Cattle Egrets are uncommon in Illinois, and there were hundreds here- in Missouri!  Due to a change in the shape of the river, Grand Tower Island is actually part of Missouri.  However, anything seen on Grand Tower Island usually flies over Illinois at some point.  It’s a benefit of the local geography that favors listers- birders who try to record as many birds as possible in as many counties, states, and countries as they can.   I’m somewhat of a “lister “- I like getting new birds for my home counties (Jackson and Sangamon) and my state (Illinois) as well as Missouri, the state I’ve decided I want to live in someday if possible. (Well, either Missouri or North Carolina.)


Seven species of heron were present, including a lone juvenile Black-crowned Night-heron (Nycticorax nycticorax) and these two immature Little Blue Herons (Egretta caerula), which are bright white as youngsters.  If this seems confusing to you, know that it also is to me!


After Cattle Egret, the next largest number of a species goes to Great Egrets (Ardea alba), above.  In the evening, these birds all congregate on some of the ponds to roost together.  Some people have recorded five hundred or more Great Egrets at once here, on the Illinois side.


Snowy Egret (Egretta thula) are also quite common here, splashing about in the shallows.  While they all look like white herons, each species has a different foraging behavior as well as bill shape and pattern. Snowy Egrets, which have thin black bills, like to run about.  Little Blue Herons, which usually have silvery bills, tend to “lean” forwards as they move slowly but steadily through the shallows, occasionally snatching up an unfortunate frog or fish.  Great Egrets and Great Blue Herons sit and wait, striking at whatever fish comes too near.  Cattle Egrets play leapfrog or stand still.  Green Herons and Black-crowned Night Herons hide in tree branches, leaning far over the water, waiting for a fish to swim underneath.


Another excellent feature of Grand Tower Island is its proximity to the Mississippi River and the bluffs of that river that border the Shawnee National Forest.   North of here is Fountain Bluff and Devil’s Backbone, two hills running north-to-south.  This combination of air currents provided by the geography and proximity to the river provides for some good thermals- excellent for watching hawks fly overhead!  Sometimes even better than that…


This is an immature Bald Eagle (Halialeetus leucocephalus).  That gigantic bill and the broad, big wings held flat- like a flying surfboard, I always think-  make this a fun bird to identify at great distance.  I’ve seen four at one time here, not bad for the summer months.  In the winter, when hundreds of Canadian Bald Eagles come south to Illinois, this place is going to be FUN.


A new bird for me was this, the Mississippi Kite (Ictinia mississippiensis).  I got a brief look at one some months ago in the Ozarks, but essentially the Illinois ones have really been my introduction to this species.  Mississippi Kites are EVERYWHERE in the summer months here, though they’ll migrate in a month or two.  Social and insect-eating, they enjoy flying in groups over the river bottoms  in pursuit of dragonflies, cicadas, and more.  These kites used to be far more common in Illinois, but as they like large insect populations coupled with large woodlands, they declined to the point of being State-Threatened.  However, the population is growing again.  A few have settled far to the north, near Rockford, Illinois, just barely south of Wisconsin.  Sooner or later they’ll be delisted and considered a species more-or-less safe in numbers here.


A group of Mississippi Kites, Turkey Vultures, Black Vultures, an American Kestrel, three Cattle Egrets, a Great Egret and one other bird decided to come together and soar overhead about 10:00 AM.  That one other bird was the Anhinga I wanted to see.  A bird of the Deep South, not to be expected anywhere without alligators, Anhingas (Anhinga anhinga) are somewhat similar to Cormorants in appearance.  However, Anhingas have a long thin spearlike bill, a long, pizza-slice shaped tail, and broader wings, and they are furthermore not considered relatives.  If you haven’t figured it out, the Anhinga is the bird in the upper right corner above and the only one below.  The other bird in lower left above is a Turkey Vulture (Cathartes aura), for size comparison.


Back in the 1800s, Anhingas may have been more common in far Southern Illinois, but the removal of the cypress swamps they like to live in caused them to vanish.  The strip of land south of the Shawnee Hills is actually considered part of the Gulf Coastal Plain ecozone- having many of its species and habitats more in common with Louisiana than with much of the rest of Illinois.  In this area, Anhingas were rediscovered in about 2009 or 2010, in a spot known as Snake Hole Lane.  The head honcho of Illinois birding, Greg Neise, went down to find them, in one of the more amusing stories about chasing a rarity that I’ve read.   Amusing, of course, because I wasn’t there:

By contrast, all I had to do was sit on a levee and wait for about fifteen minutes, in the meantime watching all of the herons I talked about earlier, as well as a few other birds:


I’ve talked about my favorite group of birds, shorebirds, ad nauseum, but still, anything that weighs about an ounce, is six inches or less long, and flies from Alaska to Argentina twice a year on its own power, is an impressive animal.  That’s what these little birds in the photo above do.  With a couple of seabird exceptions, there’s not much to rival shorebirds at migration!


Nearby lurked one of the great waterfowl predators in Illinois and Missouri, the Common Snapping Turtle (Chelydra serpentina).  These don’t go after shorebirds, but they’ve been known to attack ducks from underneath, dragging them down under the water to be eaten.  Pleasant, I know.   Still, it came as a shock to me.  If you’re squeamish, don’t look up the Youtube videos of it.


Of course, in that case also never look up herons eating things.  There’s videos of herons hunting moles in fields, hunting other birds, and even hunting venomous snakes!  However, this concentration above was mostly after fish in a flooded slough on the Illinois side.


Perched behind me in a tree was a young Mississippi Kite, trying to figure out how to use a dead tree branch.  It was not succeeding with the vertical one, but it kept trying.


Eventually, after a few minutes, it gave up and flew away.   Still, it was very amusing to watch!


Nearby,  a Red-tailed Hawk (Buteo jamaicensis), one of the few I’ve seen here, perched, waiting for mice to appear.  Larue- Pine Hills Research Natural Area, the wetlands of the Big Muddy River, Grand Tower Island,  Oakwood Bottoms, and the wooded slopes of Fountain Bluff occur within five or ten minute’s drive of each other.  Few of these are the open agricultural areas Red-tailed Hawks like.  Surprisingly, I have yet to see a Red-shouldered Hawk here, a species far more fond of wooded floodplains.  I’ve heard them a couple times, however.


One Bald Eagle on the north end of Grand Tower Island was a regular, however, perched in one of the same few trees every time.  In the first photo, it is “panting” from heat. Birds cannot sweat- they must expel excessive heat by panting and by holding their wings away from their body, as this Bald Eagle is doing.  I’d never observed this kind of behavior before.


The nearby area around the Illinois edge of Grand Tower Island has similar habitat, if much reduced, to the island itself.  It’s here that a White Ibis had been spotted in July, a visitor from the South.  Another visitor, in addition to the Anhingas, was a Neotropic Cormorant.  I’ve tried several times to bring a smaller-than-usual cormorant to species, but failed to correctly identify or identify enough distingusing marks on several birds, as you might have seen previously.


A few days later, I was driving down here, looking for whatever I could find.  Several Turkey Vultures flew right over the tops of some trees, apparently startling a small cormorant.  It took off- and it had a long tail and no yellow in the face, signs of a rarity.  My camera was tightly in its case, unable to record the Neotropic Cormorant I’d tried to find for months.  Well, that’s how it goes.


I pulled off along Route 3 later in the day to photograph some sandpipers, and I stumbled across what I believe is a Western Sandpiper (Calidris mauri) in the middle in the photo above, which in addition to a Baird’s Sandpiper from the day before, makes this the fifth new species of bird and third new sandpiper I’ve found since moving down here.  I would be very OK if this trend continued!   Western Sandpipers migrate from Alaska to Florida and Peru, but they rarely arrive in Illinois.  The Western Sandpiper made an excellent Fifth Orchid* to the day.


Another day’s Fifth Orchid was a Red-necked Phalarope (Phalaropus lobatus), one of the world’s most “feminist” birds. Basically, traditional bird gender roles are reversed in the phalaropes.  The less colorful males, up to four of them, have to take care of one female’s eggs and young while she fights with other females for the right to keep those males.   So much else is reversed with these birds, too!  Most shorebirds live on the edge of mudflats, but for much of their lives, phalaropes live out in the open ocean, far at sea, spinning in circles.  I mean that- they spin in a circle in the water to concentrate plankton on which to feed.  Here’s more details on a related species, the more common Wilson’s Phalarope.  Red-necked Phalaropes are less common, but they do occasionally migrate inland.  Still, this was the first Red-necked Phalarope ever seen in Jackson County, Illinois, according to Ebird.


I also took a photo of a Great Egret eating a shad in the shallows.   The wait and ambush method works well for these herons, it seems.   Personally,  I prefer the Snowy Egret, always darting about from place to place- not unlike me, sometimes!

I look forwards to seeing many more of them here, at my new favorite birdwatching (and eclipse-watching) spot.  Come for the rarities, stay for the view:


*Fifth Orchid- an unexpected last find at the end of the day.  I haven’t used this personally-created term in awhile, but I figure it comes in handy here.