birds – Page 6 – Roadkill Crossing

Turquoise waters, large, rolling waves crashing into coves with hidden pristine beaches, majestic palms, and friendly, inclusive residents who love their history and land are reasons enough to visit Hawaii.

However, our 50th state’s flora and fauna also stand out, as I discovered on a recent trip there. The vegetation, flowers, and wildlife ignited my senses, and I snapped over 1,200 photos. It was that beautiful, and I only visited three islands: Oahu, Kona, and Maui.

You don’t need to be a botanist to appreciate the abundance of lush plants, trees, and flowers on the 132 Hawaiian islands. Hawaii’s wildlife thrives in these varied tropical habitats.

As an avid but amateur birder, I focused on birds. However, since I was on a group tour, my opportunities to do much bird watching were limited. I listened to and looked for birds as much as possible in my free time at the various stops on every excursion.

I was most impressed with how Hawaiians honor sacred lands by caring for them through public parks, wildlife preserves, and national parks. The lack of trash along roadsides, sidewalks, beaches, and in rainforests proved this point.

In the capital city of Honolulu, flowers were ubiquitous. They bloomed in neatly manicured flowerbeds, bushes, hedges, and trees, and native flowers filled vases inside nearly every building we entered.

However, the countryside was where the flora and fauna ruled. Thanks to frequent tropical rains, dense rainforests grew on the windward sides of these mountainous islands. Since the clouds had spent their moisture, only scrubby trees, bushes, and grasses grew on the leeward slopes. There was that much difference in the annual rainfall.

The transition between lush and barren was usually pronounced. However, in some rural locations, ranchers fenced off large, sloping pastures dotted with scrubby trees where cattle, cows, and horses congregated.

Ancient and recent lava flowed to the sea down the mountainsides, disrupting most plant growth. Still, grasses poked through, helping to break down the rock with assistance from winds and rain.

Lush foliage covered steep, sharp mountains while a half mile to the coast, shorebirds waded for any morsel they could snag. That’s the natural consequence of life on the tip of a submerged volcano that would tower over all land-based mountains, including Mount Everest. Animals and birds flourished all around Hawaii Volcanos National Park.

As the vegetation types changed, so did the animal life. In the adjacent ocean waters, manta rays cruised the shorelines for food, and giant Green Sea Turtles basked on sunny beaches to warm themselves.

At a historical coffee plantation, songbirds darted from tree to tree, singing and calling high above the shaded coffee bushes. Years ago, I experienced similar scenes multiple times in Honduran coffee farms.

The last full day on Maui proved the most thrilling for scenery and fauna. Driving the Road to Hana and back will do that. Steep mountainsides filled with 50 shades of green surrounded majestic waterfalls, and sharp-angled cliffs dove into inviting waters.

Hidden coves with fine black or white sand beaches held their secrets. Crashing waves instantly transformed into a brilliant white froth that quickly disappeared.

I spied a colony of terns that spend most of the year out to sea fishing. They claimed an old, rugged lava rock that protruded above the sea’s surface, providing a handy, protected nesting sight. Behind me, a small flock of finches waddled through the park’s manicured grasses.

I would be negligent not to mention the free-range hens and roosters roaming the islands. Like many other island animals and plants, they are not native but are now part of the culture.

In my few days in this island paradise, nature’s flora and fauna overwhelmed me with joy. Surrounded by such enchanting environments, who wouldn’t be?

A black sand beach along the Road to Hana. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

Finding a Rare Bird is Memorable

A Say’s Phoebe in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

Finding rare birders is always a memorable experience, no matter one’s level of avian expertise. Since I consider myself an average birder, I always appreciate the opportunity to bird with those who are more knowledgeable than me.

That was the case recently when someone discovered a Say’s Phoebe five miles west of my home near Harrisonburg, Virginia. Having a Say’s Phoebe in the Shenandoah Valley was a rare treat, but seeing it in person became my goal since it would be a life bird.

I first learned about the Say’s Phoebe via an email listserv that reports rare bird sightings. I bundled up and headed to the property where the bird was seen. Several birders were already there scouting the bird. Ironically, the phoebe, which should have been in the southwest U.S. or Mexico, was across the road from where I photographed a Snowy Owl a few weeks earlier.

I walked as quietly as possible on the crunching snow and heard words that diminished my enthusiasm. “There it goes,” one of the birders said. It was late afternoon, and the guess was the phoebe was headed for a warmer roast than the steel pole buildings with three open sides.

I got eyewitness reports of the bird and details of its favorite haunts around the produce auction buildings it frequented during the day. The recommendation was to try in the morning when the bird foraged for dead insects.

That is precisely what I did. Only two other birders were present when I arrived. They had not found it yet. Discouraged, one birder headed to her car but soon turned around, waving her arms furiously.

She had spotted the bird sitting on the handle of a hand pump, a favorite spot for the bird. Say’s Phoebes perch lower to the ground to feed than their cousins, Eastern Phoebes. But both species pump their tales and fly to intercept the insects, often returning to the same or near the same perch. Say’s Phoebes have a long, dark tail and a distinctive orange-to-pink buff belly.

The bird flew into one of the open-sided buildings and continued to snatch dead insects stuck in spiderwebs around the ceiling and security lights. The lovely bird posed enough for us to capture several decent photos.

Satisfied, the woman who spotted the bird departed for other birding hot spots. That left two of us to follow the bird around, which we did for an hour. Given the bird’s feeding behavior, we soon learned to stand in a central location and let the bird fly to us. That strategy paid dividends. My birding companion even recorded the phoebe calling.

The Say’s Phoebe searched high and low for food. Winter in Virginia isn’t insect season, and several inches of snow covered the ground, too. No one knew what brought the bird to the valley, but we were grateful for the opportunity to view it.

I had the photos I wanted in an hour, so I headed home to share the good news with other birders by posting it on several Facebook birding pages. I was happy to add another bird to my life list. This exhilarating encounter was another birding experience I won’t forget.

The Say’s Phoebe perched on a wall header. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

Basking in the Morning Sunshine

Look at this handsome guy! Isn’t he resplendent with his marvelous feather coloration?

This male Northern Flicker regularly visits the peanut butter suet feeder that hangs from the Red Maple tree in our front yard. I can easily see the feeder and the tree from my home office.

This bird has visited the feeder for several months. Unfortunately, the European Starlings have discovered the tasty suet, too. Outnumbered by the gang of noisy birds, the Northern Flicker sat patiently in the morning sunshine until the starlings thinned out. Then, he made his move for breakfast.

Hawaii – Day 8

The relaxing view from our lanai. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

After a hardy breakfast of veggie omelets and fresh fruit, we left for the Maui Ocean Center. We drove through the burned-out section of Lahaina, and I didn’t realize it at first with all the rebuilding that had been done.

However, the many empty lots and scorched concrete block walls bore witness to the devastation. A respectful hush came over the bus. Everyone sensed the apparent dichotomy. As tourists, we embraced the beauty of the islands, its rhythmic language, the friendliness of its handsome people, and pride in their cultures. Yet, they had no homes, and still, they welcomed us. They needed the tourism jobs.

Sections of Lahaina still waiting to be rebuilt. Photos by Bruce Stambaugh

Though we left the hotel early, we arrived at the ocean center late. An accident caused a long traffic jam on the two-lane highway to the bay where the aquarium is located. The bus driver said accidents along this stretch of road are frequent.

A guided tour of the Maui Ocean Center gave us a good understanding of the sealife around Hawaii. We watched various fish, sharks, and stingrays swim past the aquarium’s large underwater windows. Humpback Whales breed and give birth in the waters off Maui, but we were a little early to see any whales.

Back at the hotel, we strolled down Black Rock Beach to a seaside restaurant. The locals were getting a headstart on celebrating the holidays. A large Christmas tree stood fully decorated at the end of a walkway to the beach.

The setting, the views, the flowers—everything was gorgeous. Parasails caught the trade winds offshore and glided high above the intoxicating indigo ocean.

After a bit of shopping, we continued to take it all in. We rested on the balcony of our third-floor room, which gave us great views of the catamarans sailing by, teenage boys taking turns jumping off the black lava rocks, and the soothing tropical breeze. We had to pinch ourselves to ensure we weren’t dreaming.

As evening approached, I wanted to get some sunset shots from the beach. I went down early, surprised to see how few people were out and about. Clouds began filling the sky, and I feared the sunset would be a bust. I need not have worried.

Over Pineapple Island, opposite the channel, warm, amber crepuscular rays began to filter through the clouds. They appeared like spotlights against the higher clouds, creating a surreal scene. I wondered what the natives long ago would have thought had they experienced this. Was this a sign from the gods? If so, what did it mean?

I snapped away at my good fortune. Could this vacation get any better? Yes, it did.

Water Lilies bloomed outside the hotel restaurant. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

Hawaii – Day 7

Our first sunset on Maui. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

I knew I would like Maui. From the air, Hawaii’s commitment to green energy was evident. Giant white windmills stood out on the black lava mountainsides, and acres of solar panels and agricultural fields stood side by side.

The bright morning sunshine highlighted two cruise ships docked at the small harbor. I was glad there weren’t more.

Lunchtime called when we left the busy little airport that looked more like a Hollywood movie set. We boarded the bus and headed to Paia on Maui’s north coast. Paia’s fame hails back to 1870 when the first sugar cane crop was planted there.

The old town wasn’t built for tourist buses, so we had to exit expediently to avoid blocking traffic. With only 14 passengers, the bus emptied in record time, mainly because we were hungry.

Most of us walked to the Paia Fish Market for fresh seafood. Lunch was on our own, and our tab demonstrated the high cost of living in Paradise. However, given the quality of our seafood, we didn’t quibble.

Soon, we headed to Iao Valley State Monument, which features a phallic rock nicknamed “the Needle,” which the ancients worshiped. I didn’t ask any questions. Once there, I enjoyed an easy hike to the viewing area, which provides a lovely view back down the valley we climbed to reach the monument.

Visitors and their pet dogs lounged in the refreshing, cool waters of a stream that carved the valley millennia ago. I enjoyed the pleasant views and the invigorating air. The adorned natural monument stands between two steep mountainsides.

From there, we drove to the Maui Tropical Plantation, a campus with a restaurant, a large gift shop, and an impressive pond that allowed me to see the Hawai’i state bird, the Hawaiian Goose, or Nene. I also spotted a Black-crowned Night Heron attempting to swallow a big, fat fish. It was still wrestling with the fish when it was time to head to our hotel to check-in.

I secured a seat on the bus’s ocean side and enjoyed the views of the turquoise Pacific Ocean and the many parks and beaches along the way. The island of Lanai, or Pineapple Island, was just across the way.

The bus took the bypass around Lahaina, where the devastating fires broke out and burned much of the historic town. Still, we saw vacant lot after vacant lot. Only a small percentage of buildings and a few homes have been rebuilt. A few hardy people live in campers where their houses once stood.

Please click on the photos to enlarge them.

When we arrived at our hotel, we found our room had an ocean view in the middle of the resort. We walked around the charming property to orient ourselves and couldn’t believe our good fortune. With these arrangements and the balmy breezes, it was an absolute Paradise. But we were only beginning our incredible stay in Maui.

That evening, we experienced our first sunset and then watched the nightly reenactment of young men diving from the black rocks that jut into the ocean. A single young man with a lighted torch climbed the rocks, reached his arms high to the gods in appreciation of another day, and jumped into the sea. The tradition started from much higher cliffs, but the demonstration was still impressive.

A video of jumping from the rocks.

The experience was a marvelous way to finish our first day in Maui, especially with my wife feeling better. We happily wondered what was ahead.

Hawaii – Days 5 & 6

Kehena Bland Sand Beach, Kona. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

Our fifth day in Hawaii was filled with many wonders and one big downer. My wife woke up not feeling well. She encouraged me to go on the scheduled excursion to explore much of the Big Island. I did so, but reluctantly.

Our day trip had multiple stops, and the local bus driver added some of his favorites, making the exploration day a success. Our first stop wasn’t far from the hotel.

It was a tourist stop, but our guide wanted us to experience a geologic phenomenon. We explored a lava tube formed by molten lava flowing from a volcanic vent through existing lava rock that had solidified years before. Once the lava flowed out, only the outer shell of the flowing lava remained, leaving the tube-like feature. It was the first of several intriguing stops.

We drove south high above the ocean to our west. Lucious vegetation captured our attention as the bus maneuvered the two-lane highway on it wound its way up, down, and around the parameters of the island.

The island’s official name is Hawaii, and it is located in the county of Hawaii in the state of Hawaii. Consequently, the locals prefer Kona to avoid confusion, and I concur.

Near the island’s southern tip, an overlook affords splendid views of previous lava flows and the blue Pacific. Miles away, we could see the southernmost point of the US. Sorry, Key West. No haze, cell towers, or skyscrapers spoiled the view. Giant windmills turned in the tropical wind. From our vantage point, they looked like children’s pinwheels.

Please click on the photos to enlarge them.

I wished my wife could have seen this. I kept wondering how she was doing and hoped for a signal to check in with her. I would have to wait a while longer than I wanted.

The landscapes and foliage changed drastically as the bus driver adeptly navigated the undulating and winding curves. The land was either barren and chunked up black lava or many shades of green with pastures, shrubs, and trees of all shapes and sizes.

Every now and then, we saw another Hawaiian human-caused phenomenon. Because of the rural nature of the islands and the tricky terrain for motorized vehicles to maneuver, crashes are frequent. Instead of towing the wrecked cars, they are pushed off the roadway and over the hillside where they stay. This only applies to vehicles deemed not worth towing.

Many demolished cars, trucks, and vans were either stripped of their valuables, burned out, or both. They had been there long enough for young trees to grow through the tipped-over junkers. This practice seems to run counter to the nearly litter-free islands. Recycling is the norm in Hawaii, with old, crashed vehicles apparently exempted.

When we reached the tiny village of Naalehu, we stopped at the southernmost bakery in the US. The Portuguese donuts were scrumptious. I only ate one but took one back for my wife.

Too soon, we were back on the road, heading north. The ocean was on the right, and slush pastures dotted with windswept and stunted trees on the steep slope of a volcano on the left. This was the windward east side of Kona, where the prevailing winds bring ample rains compared to the western part of the island.

We arrived at Punalu’u Black Sand Beach Park and were pleasantly surprised. As we approached the beautiful beach, I noticed popup canopies, and many people stood around observing.

Our visit was well-timed. Scientists, professors, and marine biology students from the University of Hawaii were capturing, evaluating, and tagging Green Sea Turtles. In fact, a few large ones lay on the beach, absorbing the warmth of the noontime sun.

Since we had lunch reservations at our primary destination, our time on the beach was limited. The black sand is the product of lava being eroded and pulverized many times to form the beach.

The bus steadily climbed the gradual slope to the Hawaii Volcanos National Park’s visitors center, where a tasty lunch awaited us. After lunch, we joined our guide outside.

I was expecting a tall volcanic cone where we peered over the edge to look down into the crater. I underestimated the size and power of these massive domes. It was at least a half mile away. I think Manhattan could fit inside Kilauea’s gigantic crater.

Please click on the photos to enlarge them.

I also expected strong odors to emit from the caldera. Instead, it mainly was steam from vents along the volcano’s sides, although the fumes from Kilauea’s center would have been noxious.

To get a closer look, some of the group walked with our guide along an abandoned highway about half a mile. We could more closely see the steam rising from the crater’s center.

Several birds popped out before us on our way back to the bus. We headed back down the mountain, through the aptly named little burg of Volcano, and on to Hilo, the island’s largest town.

We stopped at Rainbow Falls in Wailuku River State Park, and I finally had a signal to contact my wife. She had Covid. Our guide jumped into action and tried to find an urgent care facility where Neva could be seen. However, all three were either closed or about to close, so my dear wife had to take a cab to the local hospital emergency room, where she spent four hours before being seen. All she wanted was a prescription for Paxlovid, which the ER doctor faxed to the local pharmacy.

Our guide assured us Neva and I could continue on the tour. She said the tour company treats COVID-19 like the flu. We would isolate on the bus and wear masks when around others. With only 14 people on the tour and riding a bus for 46 passengers, we could easily comply. I informed the other group members, and they were most understanding and concerned.

Darkness began to fall as we headed west up over a pass that took us past several volcano domes. The twilight gave them an eerie appearance. My poor wife didn’t arrive back at the hotel until 11 p.m.

We spent the next day relaxing around the hotel after I retrieved Neva’s prescription. I did some birding and enjoyed exploring the nooks and crannies on the hotel property while my wife rested. We finished the day watching mantarays feed in the shallow waters along the lava rocks in front of the hotel.

The next day, it was off to Maui!

Happy New Year!

I got so busy with the holidays that I forgot to post this photo of a Snowy Owl that showed up in mid-November in western Rockingham County, Virginia, five miles from where I live. So, I thought I would let this beautiful bird wish you a Happy New Year!

When I heard about the Snowy Owl, my wife and I headed out, hoping to see it. I wanted to document the rarity with photos, too. A few other birders were already there when we arrived. In a matter of minutes, we were joined by several others, including two different school groups from nearby private elementary schools.

The bird sat on a 55-gallon steel drum near a pasture. Another birder had set up his scope and allowed me to take this photo with my iPhone 14 Pro. Otherwise, I would have had to heavily crop the images I took with my camera. The next day, the bird was gone, not to be relocated.

So, on behalf of the Snowy Owl, I wish you the best in 2025.

This is where the owl was found and what we saw with the naked eye. Can you find the Snowy Owl?

The Colorful Week That Was

My wife and I were busy last week. Everywhere we went, we saw color, literally and metaphorically. Color dominated, from flowers to birds to people to landscapes to food to sunsets.

Here are a few samples of the vivid, muted, and impressive hues we encountered as we traveled from Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley to the Piedmont of North Carolina and back.

We met good friends from Ohio for breakfast in Front Royal, Virginia.

We bought apples and fresh cider at a local orchard.

We enjoyed lunch with cousins from California and North Carolina.

Dan Nicholas Park Lake.
Textures and colors.
The Foot Bridge.
A multitude of greens.
A pristine lake.
Reflections.
The last lily bloom.
Muscovy Duck.
A migrating Bay Breasted Warbler.
A Great Blue Heron.

Dan Nicholas Park wasn’t the only place we saw birds. We sat in the shade and chatted while various species of birds visited our hosts’ backyard feeders.

Please click on the photos to enlarge them.

Of course, I had to include a sunset from Cannon Park in Salisbury, North Carolina.

Please click on the photos to enlarge them.

The evening we arrived home in Harrisonburg, Virginia, the aurora borealis brightened the night sky. The following morning, we had the first frost of the season.

On Saturday, we hustled from one event to another. It was Homecoming at Eastern Mennonite University, where our daughter is the athletic director. The highlight for us was the dedication of the new state-of-the-art track. The ceremonies culminated with a ceremonial lap around the track by significant donors, former track members, and current track members. The oldest participant to run was in his 80s. He runs every day.

Please click on the photos to enlarge them.

Sugar Maple leaves are peaking.

That evening, we watched our grandson lead the Rock City Regime as the drum major at a high school band competition.

The colorful week ended with a welcome home by late-blooming clematis.

A Birder’s Dream Come True

Kirtland’s Warbler, Waynesboro, Virginia. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

When I opened the email from the birding listserv this morning, I knew I would pursue this rare bird. Fall bird migration was in full swing, and it’s a real rarity when a Kirtland’s Warbler is spotted. Experts estimate that only 1,500 of this species remain today.

It turned out that this bird was in a park only a mile from the wildlife rescue center where I took the injured Cape May Warbler last week. I had never been to the park where the Kirtland’s had been spotted.

My wife and I headed southwest toward Waynesboro, taking familiar back roads. Crossing over I-81 told us we had made the right decision. The busy highway was nearly bumper to bumper in both north and south lanes.

The GPS took us right to the park. The small parking lot was full, but fortunately, a space opened up right after we pulled in. Another birder arrived right after us and wondered where the bird was. I had no idea until we saw a small group emerge from the trees and thicket carrying binoculars and cameras with baseball bat-sized lenses.

They stopped and pointed their cameras and bins toward the thicket as we joined them. They spotted the bird immediately, and as good birders are want to do, they helped newcomers like us find the bird.

My wife had the rare bird in her binoculars before I did. Once it popped into the open, I saw the bird through my binoculars and then tried to capture images on my camera. Documentation is essential in birding, especially rare birds.

The bird darted up and down, in and out of the jungle of vines, saplings, and mature trees. It foraged on insects and berries. The bird finally popped into my viewfinder, and I got this photo and a few other less desirable ones.

Seeing a Kirtland’s Warbler is always exciting, especially if it is a life bird, meaning the first time you have seen the elusive bird. It’s a birder’s dream come true. Indeed, this bird was a lifer for several in the cooperative group.

Birding is all about finding and sharing, which Neva and I experienced today. On our way home, we celebrated with a delicious late lunch at our favorite burger place.