For a refreshing change of scenery, I went with some friends to the deserts of central Baja, California. The little town of Loreto in the Mexican state of Baja California Sur sits on the shores of the Sea of Cortez, also known as Gulf of California. A glance around the horizon reveals some rugged, crumbling, brown, dry mountains, a segment of open sea, a lot of tall, columnar cardon cacti, and the waving fronds of fan palms. A change of scenery, indeed.<\/p>\n
I awoke in the morning to the swish of palm fronds and the persistent cooing of white-winged doves. A short beach walk from our temporary residence was a broad, braided, tidal flat that would be an estuary if and when the now-dry river delivered water. This was a great place to watch birds, especially at low tide, when mudflats and shallow-water sloughs offered good foraging. There were several kinds of shorebirds, including some familiar ones (dowitchers, greater yellowlegs, least sandpipers, semipalmated plovers, marbled godwits, willets, whimbrels) from home waters. Wilson’s plovers were there too, sporting a much heftier bill than the other plovers. A large flock of (mostly) royal terns rested on the outer sand bars. Big white yellow-footed gulls stalked along the water’s edges and yelled at other gulls that flew overhead.<\/p>\n
[Mendenhall Glacier master plan calls for major change]<\/a><\/ins><\/p>\n There were six kinds of herons, including two species of white egrets. A new species (for me) was the reddish egret (so-named for the reddish neck feathers, presumably), whose active foraging techniques were fun to watch. After standing quietly for some minutes, one of those egrets would burst into a bit of fancy footwork, dancing and turning, in hopes of stirring up some small fish. At other times, one would half-spread its wings into a sort of hood and run in a small circle, perhaps corralling fish that might then try to shelter in the shade of the spread wings. So different from the more usual stalking techniques of many other herons.<\/p>\n Another interesting heron was the little blue heron, much smaller than the familiar great blue heron (also present) and decked out in lovely shades of grayish blue. This species is unusual because the juveniles are pure white during their first year (and easy to confuse, on a quick glance, with the white egrets), and the legs looked greenish to me. They start to get the blue plumage in their second year. I have to wonder why they have such a distinctive juvenile plumage.<\/p>\n