edge effects

PHOTO POST

Storm surges, snow squalls, frozen rain, creeks on the rise, ice jams, gale force winds, soft waves of slush – February’s weather has been, shall we say, entertaining. Here’s a small selection of pictures from the past week.

 

Quicksilver (click images for larger view)

What colour is ice, you might ask? After a fierce storm on Lake Ontario much of the ice is deep dark brown, as breaking waves have scoured up sand and pebbles, piling the mix into new peninsulas along the shoreline. The next day’s winds then carve out new fjords, bridges and islands.

Cathedral Ceiling

After frozen rain coats a log on the marsh, the sun carves equally complex patterns in the shimmer.

Waterlog

Where the geese have been, we can always find our feather-of-the-day.

Acrostic

Cold temperatures, bright sun, gentle waves spilling over beach pebbles – a recipe for beautiful edge effects.

Topography I

 

Topography II

Let’s have one more shot of cold water on the rocks:

On the rocks


Top photo: The light gets in (click here for larger view)

vortex

PHOTO POST

The Polar Vortex which just gave us an old-fashioned hint of arctic weather may not have been everyone’s cup of tea. But for anyone out sightseeing on the shore of Lake Ontario this weather has been hard to beat.

Way Out – February 1 (click images for larger view)

 

Sunset Wave – January 30

 

Dual Frequency – January 31

 

Steam Cloud – February 1

 

Two Goose Bridge – February 1

 

Fire Lake – January 31

 

Solar Light – January 28

 

Set The Table – January 31

 

Top photo: Vortex – January 30 (click here for larger view

Postscript: a word about safety

Lake Ontario shore ice can be deceptive and very dangerous. Even when a mass of ice appears solid, water can be forced underneath by the waves at high pressure. As a result there can be thin spots in unpredictable places. Before stepping out on such ice, you should know whether the water underneath is deeper than you can or want to stand in. Carry a very stout stick which you can use to test the solidity of the ice in front of you every single step. Do not be tempted to crawl to the edge of the overhang at water’s edge, since this ice may give way suddenly and topple you into the water. You should think carefully about what it would feel like to look up at a big wall of ice while you (briefly) bob up and down in frigid water. And what it would feel like to crash through a weak spot in the ice and then try to pull yourself back up through that hole, if you can find it. Those thoughts should put you in a properly cautious state of mine before venturing out on the ice. Key photo tip: let a zoom lens take you close to scene while you stay safely out of harm’s way.

 

rivers of light

PHOTO POST

Just when winter temperatures drop the farthest, the sun shines its brightest and snow floats across open space like liquid light.

But the current cold snap, like many before it, was preceded by a squall. The geese settled on the marsh to wait out the wind.

West Wind (click images for larger views)

 

West Wind Two

When the storm was over there were lines on the surface of the marsh …

Aftermath

… and lines on the shore.

Aftermath Two

With the air temperature hovering around –20°C, waterfowl sought the warmth of liquid water …

3 + 1

though liquidity was fickle.

Sail to the Sun

In Port Darlington harbour the flow of water and ice became a stream of steam and light.

Winter Harbour 

Top photo: Rivers of Light (click here for larger version)

 

january’s window

PHOTO POST

When a cold dry wind blows in from the north, bright colours come out to play on the lakeshore.

 

Parasol (click images for larger view)

Even in the snowless meadows the early morning light finds seed heads aglow.

Meadowglow

Water flash-frozen in a ditch coats leaves and preserves a remnant of summer’s green.

Dark Matter

Not every day so far this month has been bright, but buffleheads can shine their own lights.

Slipstream

Beach pebbles wear carapaces of ice to catch the shine of sand, stone and morning.

Superconductor

Sometimes these special lenses shout “Look! The sky is blue!”

Blue Rush

Such a blessing, to wake up and gaze through january’s window.

Ripple

Top photo: Sunrise Moment (click here for larger view)

searchlight

PHOTO POST

Have we ever had an autumn and early winter with so little sunlight? Perhaps, but with so many gray days and so little snow, one has to look a little harder for a glimpse of colour and glow while exploring the waterfront this season.

When the sun pokes out along the beach for a few minutes at sunrise or sunset it’s a treat.

Anchor (click images for larger view)

 

Magnification

But just as often the only light seems to emerge from the nearly-frozen water along the edges of the marsh.

Filigree

 

Climbing Feather

When the sky is as wet as the mud and twigs underfoot, it falls to feathers to illuminate their scenes.

Spiny Feather

On this morning the beavers may be among those glad there’s just a dusting of snow – at least they don’t need to shovel their walks.

Beaver Trail

This route leads from the water’s edge to a favoured feeding site.

Dentition

Though the beavers can make short work of a clump of trees, the next summer brings forth twice as many new shoots.

Last year’s chew

Closer to home, another rodent is grateful for our hard work in the garden. In early fall we had a nice crop of beets, but a few weeks later when we went to dig up our harvest the beets had all disappeared. The mystery was solved when we saw this adorable little varmint dig up a treasure from the lawn and scamper up a tree to eat, in what has become a daily performance.

Eat your vegetables

Top photo: Afternoon Fog (click here for larger view)

fall on beach

PHOTO POST

The weather along the lakeshore of late has been frosty, soaking, bone-chilling, blustery – with “warm” definitely not part of the list. Yet elusive rays of sunlight have teamed with the wind and waves to create beautiful sights.

These sights are ephemeral, of course – even softball-size rocks roll around in the force of the waves as the beach is reconfigured almost every day. Still, grains of sand, leaves, and even feathers have all changed the landscape in their own ways, if only for a moment.

Point line plane (click photos for larger views)

 

Weight of a leaf

When westerly winds made it hard to stand up straight and the biting cold made it even harder to focus a camera, sparkles of sand flew swiftly along to the east. But a tiny feather slowed the wind just enough to catch a drift of sand in its lee.

Feather rocks wind

On a slightly colder but sunny and calm morning, a leaf celebrated its equally complex relationship with frost, sand, wind and time.

It’s complicated

The lack of wind and waves made that a good morning for fishing out on the breakwater, never mind the cold.

Perpendicular

When wind and waves inevitably returned, foragers of a different sort stationed themselves along a shifting stripe of blue light, pecking in the sand each time the water washed past their feet.

Round stripe

Top photo: Draw the line (click here for full-size view)

reading the fine print

PHOTO POST

Who knew there was a Green Heron in our neighbourhood?

I’m sure many birders knew, but until this spring I didn’t know there is such a thing as a Green Heron, or that the Green Heron is hardly green at all, or that I had in fact seen and photographed a Green Heron a year ago.

More on herons later, but let’s agree that one can study and admire the fine features of many creatures while being quite unaware of their names.

Wingspan

The dragonflies that buzz around the reeds and lilypads at the edge of the marsh, for example, come in many colours, and might change their looks depending on the angle of the sun – but whatever their species, they are among the most beautiful sights on a steamy summer evening.

Stained Glass

The same can be said of Jewelweed (Impatiens capensis), whose delicate orange blossom would be as beautiful by any other name.

Jewelweed

But of course the details matter greatly in many ways. While the native Jewelweed is no more or less beautiful than the somewhat similar Himalayan Balsam (see previous post, Before and After Flowers), the latter, recently introduced species is unfortunately far too successful in this environment, with the result that it can quickly crowd out most other plants.

Frogbit One

The same is true of European Frog-bit, whose tiny and delicate white flowers are now popping up around the edges of Bowmanville Marsh. Brought in to an Ottawa area experimental farm in 1932 as a possible decorative plant, it began to colonize many other bodies of water and is now widely established in southern Ontario and some northeast US states. Unfortunately, its miniature “lily pads” soon multiply to great numbers that snuff out many other plants, and which also spread easily when moved by contact with boats or moving water including the wake from boats. (See Ontario government fact sheet on European Frog-bit)

Frogbit Two

 

Shore Lunch

On the other hand, the Turkey Vulture is one of our more majestic indigenous birds, though it has the unglamorous job of cleaning up carrion. (They do not eat fresh meat.) When Turkey Vultures glide on thermals over the beach they are a welcome sight, as that usually means there is a dead fish or waterbird sending a pungent odour heavenward, and the Turkey Vultures have arrived to deal with it.

Sharp Look

One of the inescapable facts of living on the lakeshore is that there are lots of spiders – thousands, millions, gazillions? They make a mess of windows and outdoor walls, and ensure that the first person to walk through a doorway in the morning can expect a spider web across the face. Most of them are too small to successfully photograph with the equipment I have, but this beauty, stationed on the gatepost to our vegetable garden, is an exception.

Garden Guardian

 

Night Heron by Day

A fine heron by any name

And now about those herons. The Great Blue Heron is unmistakable and can be sighted on most paddling excursions in Bowmanville and Westside marshes, but the small herons are more elusive.

Adult Black-Crowned Night Herons are fairly easy to spot, as their white body and black-cap head stand out clearly against the green reeds. The youngsters, though, wear a better camouflage. Though the adult Black-Crown Night Herons and Green Herons don’t look at all alike, their youngsters bear many similarities.

I first became aware of the Green Heron a few months ago, when I spotted one in the still-short fresh green reeds along Soper Creek. Following that sighting I tried many times to spot the bird again, with little luck. But by late July I started to see young small herons, and learned it is easy to confuse the Black-Crowned Night Heron with the Green Heron – they both have predominately brown and white mottled feathers.

The juvenile Black-Crowned Night Heron does not have a black cap, I learned, while a Green Heron wears a dark cap as both a juvenile and adult.

Looking at old pictures, I realized that in a post a year ago I had misidentified the bird at right as a Black-Crowned Night Heron, at a time when I wasn’t aware that Green Herons exist or that they might be found in this area.

At Roost

In the past two weeks I believe I have spotted juveniles of both species, though they are far more cautious and skittish than the Great Blue Herons. The youngster above, for example, retreated to a hiding place high in the trees beside Bowmanville Creek. It was only by drifting by very slowly that I found one angle with an almost unobstructed view.

And after many excursions at dawn and at sunset, I think I’ve finally captured a clear view of a Green Heron, below.

I Was Here All Along

Top photo: On An Arc (click here for larger view)

Disclaimer: the foregoing is not to be construed as advice from a certified authority, including but not limited to, ornithologist, entomologist, arachnologist, angelologist, ichthyologist, neuropsychopharmacologist, lepidopterologist, numismatologist, phytologist, dendrologist or other ologist, and is accompanied by no guarantee, either express or implied.

before and after flowers

PHOTO POST

With most summer flowers now fallen away or drying, it is up to butterflies and damselflies, grasses and fruits, to provide flashes of colour. While monarchs are drawn to the late-blooming Silphium, their caterpillars chew through Milkweed leaves.

Perspectives in pink (click images for larger views)

A wide variety of dragonflies and damselflies drift across from the marsh to our gardens – and clearly, for them this is a busy time of year.

Freefloat

 

Stars Came Out

 

Orange arrangement

Some of this season’s lilies are strikingly colourful even as they dry in the sun, and a few are still attracting pollinators.

Firedust

 

Listening Post

But sometimes you want to escape the heat. This rabbit relaxes on the beach in a cool morning breeze, having earned a break after a long night of pillaging gardens throughout the neighbourhood.

Coming-of-Age Story

On Westside Marsh, a trio of Mute Swan cygnets now look almost grown up, though their grey bills and mottled grey feathers still set them apart from their parents.

Under the Canopy

The flowers that are just now coming into bloom tend to be very tall. At two metres or more, the Himalayan Balsam is a good bit taller than its native cousin the orange-blossomed Jewelweed, which blooms a bit earlier. (The crushed stems of both species yield a clear juice that sooths the burn from Poison Ivy.)

Himalayan Balsam’s hollow but sturdy stalks are beautiful in their own right, though they are usually hidden deep in the understory. A tenacious competitor, it can quickly take over an area and produce a thick stand that leaves no room for other plants. Those who have had the experience of struggling to control a well-established stand realize this plant’s magnificence comes at great expense.

Jewelweed One

Its pink flowers are succeeded by an equally elaborate exploding seed pod that can distribute hundreds of seeds several metres in every direction. If you see a few of these flowers you might want to enjoy their beauty now – and then pull up the plants before they can seed next summer’s forest.

Jewelweed Sundown

 

Top photo: Monarchs’ Realm

 

house of orange

PHOTO POST

The star that burns most brightly in our garden recently is the Butterfly Weed (aka Pleurisy Root, Butterfly Milkweed). This not-so-common member of the milkweed family is said to attract Monarch butterflies.

Panorama in Orange (click images for larger view)

So far this year the Monarchs haven’t paid much attention, but other insects have certainly noticed these blooms. The Musca domestica (housefly) looks its resplendent best against a backdrop of Butterfly weed.

Transparency

Even where the flowers have little colour, it’s not hard to spot some flashes of orange. This dragonfly has flown across the road from the marsh to check out the arugula flowers, while bronze and brassy damselflies also flit around the garden.

Transparency II

 

Sunshadow

Intense summer sun plus a small but very welcome shower sped this sunflower toward maturity. Just two days separates these photos, as yellow-green quickly turns to orange.

Count To Three

The dry heat of recent weeks had many things switching to the hues of fall. With lawns drying up and many flowers withered, some days it looked more like September than July. The burnt ochre of the garden ornaments below – fragmented memories of someone else’s long-ago Mexican vacation – fit right in.

Repose

Some flowers, of course, still ring out in defiantly different tones.

Coiled Blue

Borage (above) and white water lily (below) look cool even when the sun is directly overhead in a cloudless sky.

Deep Light

Yet the palette in our corner of the world is trending toward yellow, gold, and orange, as rudbeckia, sylphium, and a flaming lily, below, come into their glory.

Orange Flows

Top photo: Buzz buzz (click here for larger view)

heat of summer

PHOTO POST

As the most intense heat wave in years takes hold of the lakeshore, the growth of some plants accelerates, others parch and wither, and many marsh-dwellers seek mid-day shade or the cool of twilight hours.

With a still bountiful supply of moisture, green plants in the marsh are tall and lush, though the air is steamy with transpiration.

Featured Creature (click images for larger views)

Water levels are dropping, exposing little isthmuses and giving grasses a chance to spring up out of the mud. This killdeer is feeding by sunset in Westside Marsh.

Stepping to the Sunset

Garden plants are remaining lush only if they are watered every day or two – but these Evening Primrose blossoms did grab onto a generous morning dew.

Primrose by Morning

 

Blooming Bergamot

Bergamot, above, and Viper’s Bugloss, below, answer the mid-day sun with particularly intense bursts of colour.

By a Thread

 

Ring Bill

Ring-billed Gulls, above, and Osprey, below, keep watch over waters of marsh and lake, and swoop down frequently to grab small fish.

Balance One

 

Balance Two

 

At Roost

The chilly waters of Lake Ontario can usually be counted on to keep the air a bit cooler – though on a calm night the cooling effect seems not to make it even 50 meters inland. Perhaps that is why two Great Blue Herons forsook their fishing grounds in the marsh one night and joined the gulls out on the Port Darlington breakwater.

 

Heron at Light House Rock


 

Top photo: Red Goose (click here for larger view)