![]() It reminds me, in some respects, of the dove season opener in South Texas or the traditional pheasant opener in South Dakota. But, because blue-winged teal are particularly affected by cooling weather patterns and well known for their quick migrations to wintering areas, action is often sporadic, with birds here one day and gone the next.Ĭulturally, the opening day of teal season is also important in southern Louisiana. Last year, hunters in Missouri harvested an estimated 15,496 blue-winged teal in September. It’s a fun time to knock off the rust of the off-season and a brief preamble to regular waterfowl seasons further down the road. In my home state of Missouri, our early teal season runs through much of September. And, more specifically, still, the thousands upon thousands of blue-winged teal descending on the swamp in September as part of their annual migration. Of particular interest to us, however, were the migratory birds. are found here, and the array of interconnected habitats, including freshwater, brackish and saltwater marshes, play home to millions of birds, fish and other wildlife. Almost 40 percent of the coastal marshes in the continental U.S. In fact, the entire area surrounding the Mississippi River Delta in southern Louisiana is incredibly ecologically diverse. These white birds, which I later learned were American white ibis, were one of many species that calls the marsh home. Later, as we sped across an open swampy area and disturbed a flock of white birds roosted in a big cypress, he pointed and called out their name in Creole. (Photo by Drew Warden)Įverything Blondiau did or said seemed to showcase his comfort with and knowledge of the area and the creatures that inhabited it. The beauty of their wings is matched only by the tastiness of their breast meat. Erratic-flying bluewings have stunning sky-blue wing coverts and iridescent green speculum feathers. "Definitely don’t want to go swimming here," he’d said matter-of-factly in a distinctive Creole accent. And moments later, he lit up the cypress-lined banks with his spotlight to show a string of red beady eyes staring back at us, a squadron of alligators lying in wait along the shore. It was a strong testament to Blondiau’s familiarity with the marsh and his boat’s capabilities.Įarlier, after we had pulled out of the historic Venice Marina-about as far south in Louisiana as you can go by vehicle-he regaled us with a story about a bass angler who had boated down from New Orleans during a tournament and caught the winning bass in the very canal we were puttering through. Instead, we seemed to skirt the edge each time and surge ahead down the canal. With each successive turn, I waited for our flat-bottomed boat to go careening sideways into the six-foot-high Roseau cane, but we never did. We ripped across the marsh, mud motor blaring as our guide Nathan Blondiau expertly navigated the narrow canal’s winding turns.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |