The increase in the activity levels of wildlife in a coastal marsh in May is something to behold. Winter residents have gone to their breeding grounds in the north, with the exception of a few non-breeding brant, the herons and egrets that had toughed it out through the winter, and the common year round residents such as quail, song sparrows, certain species of woodpeckers, and others. The din of thousands of snow geese has been replaced by the maniacal laughter of the laughing gulls. By mid-May many birds are already feeding the young of their first broods, while latecomers are just in the process of building their nests. A coastal marsh in May is full of movement and noise and drama—especially if you're a bird! 

     A wood duck hen is leads a brood of six downy chicks through the dark water at the edge of the marsh with the drake tagging along nearby. They had begun nesting in late February. Now as the chicks grow each day, the drake's vigil becomes unnecessary. Soon he'll fly off to a secluded spot to join other drakes to molt and renew their feathers.

     A little least tern male fishes intensely, not for himself, but for his mate. With quick wing beats, he hovers against the freshening breeze over the shallows, and then dives to deftly pluck out a small fish. He carries it back to the female, who waits patiently on a mud flat. Then with much chattering and wing fluttering, he feeds the gift offering to her and flies off to repeat the process. Soon she will scrape out a nest on the beach near some grasses and lay her eggs.

     Kingbirds find the open coastal marshlands to their liking too, even though they are thought of as birds of the meadows. This member of the flycatcher family is apparently just setting up housekeeping, because it is busy plucking cattail fuzz and fluffy fibers from other old flowers of last summer, along with fine, dried grasses for use in building its nest. 

     A great crested flycatcher is busy doing the same thing, but has chosen a birdhouse that had been set up over a shallow slough. Normally a forest bird, the flycatcher picked a spot that was close to mixed loblolly pine and oak forest. It deftly poked a bill full of long pine tags into the hole to add to its future “nursery.”

     All was not calm in the marsh today. There was some skullduggery going on too. Nature is not without tragedy in a May marsh. A feisty red-winged blackbird chased a snowy egret on a zigzag course through the reeds and rushes. Undoubtedly the egret had designs on the redwing’s eggs for dinner. With epaulets flashing, the redwing scolded and chased the egret and actually got up behind it and grabbed its plumes!

     But the egret is not immune from such action itself. A little marsh wren snuck through the vegetation to the egret’s nest in a low wax myrtle. Marsh wrens will sometimes peck holes in the eggs of egrets and herons that are too close to the little wren’s nest. Vengeance is the marsh wren’s in this case, so it and its young would not be threatened and on the egret’s dinner menu.

     In a similar episode, but with a different outcome, four boat-tailed grackles noisily pursued a ring-billed gull. The gull carried one of the grackle chicks locked tight in its beak. It had a family to feed too. 

     Food-getting for self and young is a prime concern for wildlife, and each does it in a different way. Glossy ibises wade in the shallows feeding actively and vigorously with their sickle-shaped bill, as they garner aquatic worms, insects, mollusks, and crustaceans. In contrast, the black-crowned night heron is a picture of patience. It waits quietly—statue-still—for minutes on end until a fish, frog, or crab swims within range. The snowy egret doesn't wait for its prey, but goes after it where it lives, shuffling its bright yellow feet to scare it out into the open. But you may see one crouch low and actually lean its head over sideways to present the lowest possible profile as it stalks a fish. The great egrets fish by stretching their long necks out, and leaning forward for a better view. The little green-backed heron will often fish near an outlet pipe connecting two flowages waiting for the current to bring it dinner.

     May is the month that brings a crescendo of sound and activity as birds reproduce after their own kind. May is the pivotal month that may decide how many or how few of a given species will return next year to continue the cycle. There'll be more chances into June, July, and August, but with each successive nesting, the resultant broods get smaller and the chances of survival gets slimmer. 

     Birds can withstand and overcome the natural gauntlets of life. However, they can't always overcome the unnatural. Without places to live, there is no chance for success. Birds that live and depend on coastal marshes can't live their whole lives in subdivisions and shopping centers. Without coastal marshes there would be no May crescendo. 

© 2003 Spike Knuth All Rights Reserved. Contact Spike Knuth at

Original Artwork by Spike Knuth © 2003 All Rights Reserved