An Eagle, a Bee, and a DC-3

Early last week a bald eagle was sighted at Sunset Bay. She was first observed in the morning on one of the far-away logs that the pelicans favor. She sat out there for a couple of hours before she flew away.

Bald eagles are rare visitors to White Rock Lake. They have only been seen a few times in the past several years, so everyone was excited about the sighting.

Last Wednesday, the 24th, I went out to Sunset Bay to see Mister Mary Mack, my goose friend. I wasn’t thinking of the bald eagle until I walked to the dock and was stopped by two people who said they’d seen a pic of the bald eagle going around and asked where they could see the bird.

I told them that the bald eagle had only been seen the week before for a few hours, and I said that bald eagle sightings at the lake were very uncommon because the birds didn’t stay, just flew overhead or paused before resuming their travels. That sighting was a one-time type of thing, I said.

Ten minutes later a bald eagle flew overhead.

I had been sitting in the shade with Mister Mary Mack when I saw what I thought was a hawk flying over the waters of Sunset Bay. I was slow to get on my feet and get my camera ready because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to take a pic; the hawk was flying extremely high, and taking a blurry, tiny pic wasn’t appealing. As I got ready to photograph the hawk I thought of how BIG she seemed. Then I noticed the white tail. Not a hawk but an eagle! She was only briefly visible and seemed to disappear in the direction of Emerald Isle. She was grasping a fish in her claws; it wasn’t until I looked closely that I realized how large the fish must have been. Eagles are huge birds, and the fish was long enough that it extended well past her legs.

A bald eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) clutching a fish while flying at White Rock Lake in Dallas, TX

I went back out to the dock a little while later and ran into a birder who had just arrived and hadn’t seen the eagle. He filled me in: apparently the eagle had been seen off and on since the initial two-hour sighting. It wasn’t just passing through.

The bald eagle wasn’t my first sighting; I’d seen plenty when I lived in Florida. It wasn’t even my first Texas sighting; Q and I had seen one on our first trip to the Richland Creek Wildlife Management Area. But there was something thrilling about seeing that bird at the lake where I spend so much time and thus seems ordinary to me.

Now I hope to see an osprey. I used to see them all the time when I lived in Florida, and I miss them.

I moved on the Boathouse. August and September have been very static months for birds here—occasionally I would see a migrant, but mostly it has been mallards and mockingbirds and first-year egrets desperately hunting for fish. So I’ve been spending a lot of time watching insects.

I saw an absolutely beautiful bee with a shiny blue abdomen and pale green eyes. Earlier in the summer green-eyed bees would hang out around the flowers of a Mexican Hat plant I had planted in my front yard, but they were much smaller than the one I saw at the Boathouse. And the Boathouse bee behaved for me: it stayed on each flower for an extended amount of time and climbed onto nearby flowers to feed instead of flitting around. He turned out to be a male southern carpenter bee, Xylocopa micans. He posed for several minutes before flying away.

A male southern carpenter bee, Xylocopa micans, feeding from a flower at White Rock Lake in Dallas, TX

A male southern carpenter bee, Xylocopa micans, feeding from a flower at White Rock Lake in Dallas, TX

Here he looks like a small child trying to pull himself up to a too-large table.

Q and I occasionally see historical airplanes and helicopters flying over our backyard or the lake as they are in transit to or from places like the Frontiers of Flight museum in Dallas; the Cold War Air Museum in Lancaster; the Cavanaugh Flight Museum in Addison; and the Dallas Executive Airport, where the corporate headquarters are located for the Commemorative Air Force. I know almost nothing about planes, historical or modern, but Q knows plenty and tells me about the ones we see. Q can differentiate between what might be an interesting old plane from a boring modern one by sound. I can’t, so I take pics of almost everything that flies overhead that isn’t a Southwest jet. And something flew overhead.

A DC-3 aircraft, registration number N583V, flies overhead at White Rock Lake in Dallas, TX

Hooray for the DC-3!

When I got home I googled the DC-3’s registration number, N583V, and was able to get quite a bit of information about the plane. She was used initially in America and in England during World War II, then was sold to a Canadian airline.

https://canavbooks.wordpress.com/2013/01/19/where-are-they-now-canadas-enduring-dc-3s/

Apparently she had been sitting fallow for over thirty years before being restored and taking to the air again in 2012.

http://www.warbirdinformationexchange.org/phpBB3/viewtopic.php?f=16&t=47775

It was a good day to see flying things.

 

Pelican Ichiban: First-of-Season American White Pelican at White Rock Lake on September 13

According to J R Compton, a local photographer and birder who has been watching the pelicans at White Rock Lake for several years, the earliest arrival date for a pelican is September 15. That would have been on a Monday. K, a friend whom I met while we were both watching the pelicans this past fall and winter, hoped that a pelican might come early, on the weekend, so she could have a chance to see it.

K, my significant other Q, and I were standing on the dock at Sunset Bay on Saturday afternoon, watching a snowy egret hunt. I peered out at a far-off log and said, “Wait a minute, there’s a pelican there.”

It was Pelican Ichiban, the first American White Pelican of the season at White Rock Lake.

I remembered from last fall that the first arriving pelicans tended to hang out almost exclusively on the far-away logs until more birds came. Then they shifted closer to the shore and onto the nearer logs. Thus, I wasn’t expecting much more than what we were seeing. Even with the bird so far away, we were all happy that there was finally a pelican at the lake again after six months and that we all got to see it together.

A cormorant that was sitting on the same far-away log suddenly darted toward Pelican Ichiban. The cormorant’s beak was open, and her wings were spread. Instead of Pelican Ichiban snapping at the cormorant, or just ignoring her, she freaked the fuck out. She flew up off the log and into the water.

Then she started swimming. We thought she was just going to hop up on a different far-out log, but she didn’t. She swam further in. And further. She made a nice pass swimming parallel to the dock, turned around, and swam back out to another far-off log that she hopped upon.

K saw her the next morning, the 14th, and K, Q, and I were all back out again in the afternoon. Shortly before Q and I arrived, K had watched Pelican Ichiban leave the far-off log where she had been loafing, bathe, and hop up onto a closer log. We watched her groom. And groom. And groom some more.

K said, “I forgot how long they can groom.”

I said, “Now I remember why we used to be out here for hours watching them. We had to wait that long for something to happen!”

Occasionally between grooming spells Pelican Ichiban would briefly flap her wings or scratch her neck. Once she tried scratching her gular pouch, but she seemed to lose interest and ended the session with an abbreviated gular flutter.

A snowy hopped on Pelican Ichiban’s log, but Pelican Ichiban ignored her. Later the snowy left and a great egret got on. Pelican Ichiban was still unperturbed. In fact, she was starting to get sleepy: her eyelids were drooping and occasionally closing.

The next afternoon she wasn’t there. I figured she was probably out fishing at another part of the lake. I rode my bike around the lake, but I didn’t see her. Pelican Ichiban must have paused to rest and refuel at the lake before continuing on her migration route. I was disappointed she didn’t stay but happy that I got to see her. Hopefully more pelicans will be arriving soon.

A pelican (american white pelican; Pelecanus erythrorhynchos) swimming at White Rock Lake in Dallas, TX

Pelican Ichiban begins her pass in front of us.

A pelican (american white pelican; Pelecanus erythrorhynchos) swimming at White Rock Lake in Dallas, TX

The cap of dark feathers on the back of Pelican Ichiban’s head is part of the bird’s “chick-feeding” plumage.

A pelican (american white pelican; Pelecanus erythrorhynchos) swimming at White Rock Lake in Dallas, TX

Pelican Ichiban turns to swim back out to a far-away log for loafing.

A pelican (american white pelican; Pelecanus erythrorhynchos) beating her wings at White Rock Lake in Dallas, TX

Pelican Ichiban briefly beats her wings after a grooming session. This was taken on September 14.

A pelican (american white pelican; Pelecanus erythrorhynchos) scratching at White Rock Lake in Dallas, TX

Itchy!

A pelican (american white pelican; Pelecanus erythrorhynchos) displaying her wings at White Rock Lake in Dallas, TX

She paused for a little while with her wings held out. K and I hoped that she might do something interesting, but she just went back to grooming.

A pelican (american white pelican; Pelecanus erythrorhynchos) and a snowy egret (Egretta thula) stand on a log at White Rock Lake in Dallas, TX

Gosh, snowy, we don’t need to save that many seats for your friends, do we?

A pelican (american white pelican; Pelecanus erythrorhynchos) scratching her gular pouch at White Rock Lake in Dallas, TX

“if I had teeth I could floss. I would do it. I would be the very best.” Quotation by Twitter user birdsrightsactivist.

A sleepy pelican (american white pelican; Pelecanus erythrorhynchos) standing on a log at White Rock Lake in Dallas, TX

Sleepy lady.

The Pelican Can!

*to the tune of “The Candy Man” from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory*

Who can take a sunfish
Sunning near her mouth
Cover it with beaky and then slide it in her pouch
The pelican!
The pelican can!
The pelican can ’cause she mixes it with blood and makes the fish taste good
Who can take a rainbow trout
Swimming merrily
Dip it in the lake and make a goody for her beak
The pelican!
The pelican can!
The pelican can ’cause she mixes it with blood and makes the fish taste good
The pelican she makes
Everything she takes
Satisfying and delicious
Talk about your fledgling wishes
You can eat up all the fishes!
Who can take two marlins
Dip ’em in a stream
Separate the salt out and collect the tasty meat
The pelican!
The pelican can!
The pelican can ’cause she mixes it with blood and makes the fish taste good
And the fish tastes good . . . because the pelican thinks it should

A juvenile pelican (american white pelican; Pelecanus erythrorhynchos) stretches its gular pouch at White Rock Lake in Dallas, TX