flight paths

PHOTO POST

Amateur photographers who try, as I do, to capture birds in flight soon learn that the smaller birds tend to be more difficult to catch than the big birds.

You need to get that much closer to a small bird, and with some exceptions they tend to be skittish. Their takeoffs are amazingly quick and their wings beat very fast, which means you need a very fast shutter speed, which in turn means only very strong light will do.

So it’s a great idea to start with the Great Blue Heron.

Launch Pad (click images for larger views)

These beautiful birds hang around from April until November, giving you lots of time to learn their habits. When they fly, they often settle down again not far away, giving you another chance for a photo if you missed the first try, if the lighting is wrong or the background is too cluttered.

Scout

Our medium-size feathered residents are more challenging. Many duck species, for example, have famously fast take-offs. Though you may see them often, it’s easy to get a collection of pictures showing colourful blurs, or just some tail feathers exiting the photo frame.

Gulls, on the other hand, can glide along in the face of a fierce wind with only the occasional wing movement. When a Ring-Billed Gull swoops along close to shore, just above the waves, it’s possible to get some easy photos. For the photos below, the Gull’s fishing habits helped. Over and over it made a slow pass against the wind, then swooped high and caught a ride downwind a hundred meters, then came past me slowly again.

Reading Right to Left

With birds that are just migrating through, serendipity plays a larger role. Six Short-Billed Dowitchers visited Bowmanville Marsh a few nights ago, likely on their way to nesting grounds near James Bay or in sub-arctic Quebec. We’re on their flight path, but opportunities to photograph them may be rare as they only drop by briefly, unannounced.

Stopover

Serendipity also played a starring role in the following photo. While I was training my camera on a window-mounted feeder intent on getting some snaps of hummingbirds, a Baltimore Oriole set down for just a few seconds on a wicker chair just below the feeder. A quick framing and re-focus gave me a chance for just one shot – but it worked, with a clay planter and indoor greenery on the other side of the window adding complementary colours.

Oriole with Wicker Chair

Fortunately three hummingbirds soon arrived as well, and it was clear this feeder was disputed territory.

Hummingbirds, Face to Face

The determined hummingbirds thrust and pounced as fiercely as some of their distant dinosaur ancestors, and none of them got much to eat for the next hour.

Archilocus Rex

At last a single hummingbird settled in for a long drink at another feeder. “Watch this”, he seemed to say, “Flying isn’t my only trick!” – and with slight movements of his neck a patch of beautifully-patterned feathers flashed from black to ruby-red and back again.

Light Tricks

Photo at top: Time Flies Like an Arrow (Osprey, Great Blue Heron, Red-Winged Blackbird) – click here for larger view

13 seconds in march

PHOTO POST

In these parts we can usually hear spring coming long before we can see it.

On the second day of March when this coyote was making midday rounds, the marsh was frozen solid and it didn’t even feel like spring – except that the snowflakes landed almost like soft rain.

Midday Rounds (click images for larger view)

But non-wintering birds had already started to appear, and the quiet of winter was punctuated by sounds we hadn’t heard here for months.

Smooth Operator

A few Long-Tailed Ducks started to show up in late February. This one was taking shelter in the harbour on a blustery early-March afternoon.

A more surprising visitor on the same day was a Common Loon, which had been stranded after landing on a rooftop in Oshawa. Unable to launch into flight except from water, this one was rescued and set free in Bowmanville harbour.

Portrait of a Loon

A quick look around

One way to gauge the spring was by watching the ice dwindle on the harbour breakwaters. Though the ice at the very ends of the breakwaters is still hanging on, ice on the lower rocks was gradually washed away by waves or melted by the strengthening sun.

Breakwater, March 13

Breakwater, March 27

It was a warm sunny afternoon when we had a delightful surprise visit from a pair of Trumpeter Swans.

Nice to meet you

The largest native bird in North America, Trumpeter Swans were nearly extinct in the mid-20th century, and had been extirpated from Ontario some 200 years ago. But dedicated work by volunteers over the past 30 years has resulted in a population of hundreds of these birds in Ontario, along with as many as 50,000 on the continent as a whole.

These feet are made for swimming

In spite of a few warm afternoons, most nights and mornings have stayed below freezing, and it’s hard to think how some of the really small birds stay warm.

Fluffed

The Black-Capped Chickadee seems to stay comfortable right through the winter – but at least it has the ability to fluff up its luxurious plumage for maximum warmth.

Announcement

The Red-Winged Blackbirds return from their migrations long before there is a hint of new growth in the marsh, and perhaps they stay warm through aerobic vocal workouts.

Slippery Slope

The song of a Killdeer in March is more surprising. A pair stopped by the harbour on March 27 and found the sand at water’s edge was still an icy slide.

But each spring sunrise lets us know the chill is only temporary.

Due East plus 13

Top photo: Due East (click here for larger view). The top photo and the bottom photo were taken 13 seconds apart.

the light of a nearby star

PHOTO POST

A tree at the base of the Port Darlington breakwater stands watch over wind and waves and grows a new coat during winter storms.

Last week’s blasts from the west whipped up the waves and funnelled splashes high into the tree.

Crescent (click images for larger views)

By the heat of the noon-day sun the glow was a glorious spectacle.

Splash, slowed

But the sun’s rise through this tree called me to the beach at dawn, day after day.

A moment of sunrise

Cold fire with twigs

Sunrise moment II

Convergence


Photo at top: Arcs (click here for larger view)

rumours of spring

PHOTO POST

When small talk first turns to the coming of spring, that’s generally a good sign that we’re entering another phase of winter – and I mean that in the nicest way.

The light is the most obvious, of course, with the sun rising much earlier and climbing higher. But we also start to see some of the earliest migrating birds.

The Long-Tailed Duck is primarily a sea bird and summers along the arctic coast. Though they are said to sometimes winter in the Great Lakes I haven’t yet spotted them here in mid-winter. In the past week several have been hanging around Port Darlington, sometimes mingling with the swans and buffleheads.

Twilight Buffet (click images for larger views)

It’s worth noting that only the male Long-Tailed Duck (top photo) sports the namesake appendage. The female (below) apparently functions quite well without those extra feathers.

Who needs that silly tail?

In February the stronger sun has worked with rain, snow, fierce winds and wildly fluctuating temperatures to sculpt new scenes along the waterfront each day.

Beach scene, sand

 

Beach scene, feather

 

Beach scene, ice

A recent storm distributed rounded chunks of ice across the beach, then coated the whole lot with a slick new surface of ice. This made for treacherous travel for a wobbly biped with a high center-of-gravity – even before a thick blanket of fluffy new snow hid all the hazards. In such conditions, obviously, it’s safer to make your pre-dawn rounds on all fours.

It’s this way

The break-up of ice takes a different form on our creeks, as recent rains pushed huge slabs through valleys and low-lying woods.

Water under the bridge

On the lake, massive walls of ice provided a shield for the shoreline until these formations were cut away by pounding waves.

Bergs

 

Whitewater

I’m happy to mark the last day of February in calm conditions with a celebration of the vivid colours at dawn and twilight.

Bright ripple

 

Cliff face

 

Blue whale

Top photo: Long-Tailed Dive (click here for larger view)

 

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)