Seashore Ornithology: The Brown Pelican

One of my favorite shorebirds is by far the brown pelican (Pelecanus occidentalis).  It is small in comparison to the other members of its genus, and it is a fairly common bird in my neck of the woods.  But that makes them no less interesting.  They also have a relatively rich fossil record.  Fossil Pelecanus are known from the Early Oligocene around 30 million years ago, and by that point they were already very like modern forms.

A pair of Pelecanus occidentalis fly above the beach at North Peninsula State Park, Florida.

Brown pelicans are known for diving for their meals, which they catch in large gular pouches attached to their lower bill.  On land, they move about rather clumsily with their large bodies and webbed feet.  But in flight, they are truly magnificent.  Their long broad wings make them brilliant gliders. And when they flock together, which they do more often than not, they are a sight to see as they soar gently above the sand and waves.

Beach Blogging

Thalassa! Thalassa!

Time for a holiday! This week I'll be spending my days by the beach and bay, and am looking forward to a little relaxation, plenty of time outdoors, and a chance to share it with you all. The sea, home of our earliest ancestors, has always held a certain appeal to me.  While our more recent ancestors may have moved away from it for more terrestrial way of life, there are many plants and animals that never left.  And even more that returned to the waters and shorelines of the world secondarily.  I think I've always envied them a bit.  Combined with the endless hours I spent as a child combing the beach and watching the water, I always look forward to being able to return myself. So with that in mind, keep an eye out here and on Twitter for seaside science (among other things) this week.

Goodbye, Lonesome George.

Lonesome George in his corral at the Charles Darwin Research Center on Isla Santa Cruz.

In December 1971 , the last Pinta Island tortoise (Chelonoidis nigra abingdoni) was discovered in the Galápagos.  This solitary male would come to be known as "Lonesome George", and he would spend the rest of his days serving as an international symbol for conservation.  As the last of his subspecies, much effort was put into trying to breed him with females of closely related subspecies, but all eggs laid were infertile.  Today, Lonesome George's life ended, and with it, another (sub)species has gone extinct.