Saving Land with Lenses

Ranch owners in South Texas combine business with conservation in a creative new program

Text and photographs by Gerrit Vyn

With the sun slowly illuminating the eastern sky, I settled into my blind in the thorn-laden brush country of South Texas. The queer, inquiring voices of Common Pauraques floated through the air, giving life to the parched country around me. As I readied my camera, I imagined one last time the long list of unique South Texas birds that might appear, attracted to the feeders and water hole just outside. It was now just a matter of time—I could already hear the soft calls of birds approaching—the sounds of wings and feet in the twilight brush.

The Pyrrhuloxia is common in the Tamaulipas thorn scrub of South Texas. The bird’s thick, pale, strongly curved bill helps distinguish it from a female cardinal.

A pair of Olive Sparrows was first to appear, lurking at the clearing's edge, daring one another to venture forth from the cover of a mesquite. Then a Pyrrhuloxia, a bulbous-beaked desert cousin of the cardinal, flashed across the clearing, landing briefly among the thorns of a colima before disappearing again. Finally, as the first brilliant rays of light wound their way through the tangled brush, a bold Long-billed Thrasher walked into the opening, grabbed a corn kernel, and darted back for cover.

Throughout the rest of the morning I was dazzled by bird after bird: raucous gangs of brilliantly colored Green Jays, bold and aggressive Golden-fronted Woodpeckers, the streaking yellow flash of a Great Kiskadee buzzing the water hole, and the multinoted hollow cooing of frantically pacing White-tipped Doves. I watched and photographed unnoticed for hours as the birds bathed, fed, preened, and interacted. By morning's end, I had become more familiar with many of the birds of South Texas than I could have in a month of birding at the busy parks of the Lower Rio Grande Valley.

This was the kind of experience I had been hoping for when I made arrangements to visit a half-dozen ranch properties in the valley collectively known as Lens and Land. There, in a region that has long attracted legions of birders, a group of conservation-minded landowners has teamed up to provide a specialized service to wildlife photographers, birders, and anyone seeking a more intimate experience with the unique fauna of the region. In exchange for a daily fee, visitors gain access to private properties managed for wildlife and set up specifically for photography and wildlife observation.

Comfortable blinds are strategically positioned throughout each property. Each is set up for morning or evening observation, and many are submerged into the earth, offering ground-level viewing of waterholes, ponds, and feeders. These ground-level blinds provide a unique perspective where you may come eye to eye with anything from an inquisitive Plain Chachalaca to a western diamondback rattlesnake on the move. Some of the most memorable experiences during my visit occurred in these ground-level blinds. On one still evening I watched a Great Kiskadee skimming a mirrorlike water hole, often stopping to perch and preen on a snag just six feet away. Later, a nine-banded armadillo shuffled from the Texas thicket for one of the longest drinks I've ever seen an animal take. The array of birds attracted to the water holes and the chance of encountering the numerous mammal species creates excitement each time you step into a blind. Whether it is the lazy song of an Audubon's Oriole announcing its arrival to bathe, a bobcat slipping in to take a drink after a long day laying up in the hot Texas brush, or the arrival of the first male Painted Buntings on a spring morning, there is always something new to see and experience.

A female Golden-fronted Woodpecker pauses while foraging amid the spines of a prickly pear cactus. This bird is fairly common in dry woodlands and mesquite brushlands.

The primary goal of the ranch owners of Lens and Land is conservation. They want to protect more private lands from development. South Texas is rapidly losing its natural lands to agriculture and suburban sprawl, and these ranches provide important corridors of wildlife habitat and sinks from which wildlife populations can reestablish themselves. The visitor fees help the ranchers support visitors and provide a revenue stream. In ranching, the model has always been to get the most out of your land, and the Lens and Land model lets the ranchers do so in an environmentally friendly fashion. Most importantly, the revenue helps keep the land out of the hands of developers. Sometimes just generating enough revenue from the land to pay the property tax is all it takes to keep it in the hands of ranch families. Several of the owners hope that putting these easily-managed revenue streams in place now will reduce future economic pressure on their children and prevent the eventual sale and subdivision of their properties. So far the system is proving successful, with support from more visitors every year, and other ranchers across Texas are beginning to take note.

Perhaps the biggest treat of my visit to South Texas was spending time with the landowners themselves. Their intimate experience with their properties and their knowledge of local natural history were invaluable in providing unique opportunities for photography and wildlife observation. All the landowners took the time to ensure that my visit was productive and comfortable. From a cooler of beer in the shade with Steve Bentsen to G'Anne Weaver's brownies, the hospitality was memorable and genuine. As I toured the Weaver Ranch with grandfatherly Kent Weaver, he beamed with enthusiasm for the project and showed his excitement at sharing his own special piece of the earth with others. For some of the landowners, that's what Lens and Land is really all about—finding that common thread, a passion for conservation and wildlife, that connects some of us.

Intimate encounters with wildlife, such as this Harris’s Hawk, are regular events when you are hidden in a Lens and Land blind.

All of the current Lens and Land properties are located within a two-hour drive of McAllen, Texas. They cover a spectrum of habitats, becoming drier as you head west. Accordingly, each ranch has its specialties, and a visit isn't complete without exploring several of them. To the east, I visited El Tecolote ranch for its robust population of Ferruginous Pygmy-Owls and nesting Least Grebes. I wasn't disappointed—ranch guide Bob Simpson and I quickly whistled a pair of owls into view amid mesquite ranchland that looked more like the acacia savannahs of east Africa than typical inland South Texas brush country. Farthest to the west, I visited Dos Venadas ranch, owned by nature photographer Steve Bentsen. Situated among dryland farms, Steve's ranch is an island oasis of native Texas bush country. Dos Venadas boasts nesting Audubon's Orioles, resident habituated Harris's Hawks, and the most reliable diurnal viewing of Eastern Screech-Owls that I know of. Between El Tecolote and Dos Venadas, four other ranches, each with its own character, host unique specialties and are home to most of the typical resident birds for which South Texas is known. I would eagerly visit each of them again.

My final evening shoot was in a low bunker blind on a hot spring evening. The pungent odor of javelina drifted by from time to time, revealing the presence of the robust desert swine just out of view. Birds were visiting the water hole in force, with as many as 18 Northern Mockingbirds quenching their thirst side by side in the still water.

Among the other birds were a gang of Green Jays, birds that had become very familiar to me during my weeklong visit. Though I had seen them almost every day, on this evening the light and the surroundings were special. Several of them sat quiet, glowing and green among the wispy mesquite boughs that draped the scene. With all of the action I had been experiencing throughout the week, these usually raucous birds had somehow become too familiar too quickly. It seemed that on this, my last evening, they were intent on letting me know that they were the jewels of South Texas. Luckily, with the whole evening ahead of me and my camera in hand, I was in a good position to pay them their due.

A Green Jay, a South Texas specialty, perches in the open at the Martins’ Javelina Ranch.

Gerrit Vyn is a wildlife photographer and an audio engineer at the Cornell Lab of Ornithology's Macaulay Library. Visit his web site: www.gerritvynphoto.com To learn more about Lens and Land or to schedule a visit, go to their web site: www.lensandland.com.

For permission to reprint all or part of this article, please contact Tim Gallagher, editor, Cornell Lab of Ornithology, 159 Sapsucker Woods Rd., Ithaca, NY, 14850. Phone: (607) 254-2443. email: twg3@cornell.edu