the otters and the others

PHOTO POST

This post is mostly about “the others” – meaning those other herons who aren’t so well known as the Great Blue Herons. But some other others also have a way of popping into the photo opp when you least expect them.

And even the Great Blues, which you see almost every time you gaze across the marsh, can still surprise with new poses.

Meerkat Impressions, First Prize (click images for full-screen views)

This bird gave me a double-take, because I didn’t recall ever seeing a Great Blue stand so perfectly erect. Just a moment later the same bird looked a lot stouter.

Space Needle

What I really love about this time of year, though, is that the small herons make themselves visible too. The Green Heron and the Black-Crowned Night Heron both stay hidden most of the time in early summer, but now that their young ones have left the nest both adults and juveniles are out and about, particularly as the sun sets.

Whether you see much green in its feathers or not, the Green Heron is, in my considered opinion, one of the snappiest dressers in the neighbourhood.

Focus Right

But both the Green Heron, at left below, and the juvenile Night Heron, at right below, have beautiful and striking patterns that nevertheless can serve as great camouflage in many marsh settings.

Different Strokes

Young Night Heron at Dusk

Other than the distinctive red eye, the juvenile Night Heron looks only slightly like its dowdy parent, below. The elder sports a nifty long white plume, but otherwise keeps the design simple.

Night Heron, Plumage

The small herons keep their eyes open for small fish and frogs – and grab insects when they are close at hand. (Or close at foot; an insect landed on a Green Heron’s foot, below, and was snapped up in a flash.)

Very Light Supper

Whether in full light of day, the glow of sunset, or by the light of a full moon, there are few birds more striking than the Green Heron.

Listening Post

That being said, while you’re out looking for herons you never know who else might light up the evening. On one recent evening, a Wood Duck turned on the wattage before slipping back into the shadows.

Wood Duck Glow

And just as darkness falls, a couple times a year if you’re lucky, the Otters might suddenly join the party, splashing and diving and swimming circles around each other.

Surfacing

While you watch them they periodically perform an “up periscope” routine to get a closer look at you. And then after a few breathy barks, they suddenly disappear among the lily pads and the waters are still.

Pop Goes the Otter

the fullness of summer

PHOTO POST

The afternoon sun is hot, but the evening air cools. Gardens and marshes are lush and green, but golds and reds peek through. Fruits ripen, seeds swell. The fullness of summer is now.

Wood Duck in a Rippled Mirror

A young Spotted Sandpiper (the spots will come later) hunts in the shadow of lily pads.

Sandpiper seeks Shadow

The full-grown pads easily support the weight of these diminutive birds.

Sandpiper seeks Light

The lily pads may also hide supper – a frog, perhaps? – for a Great Blue Heron.

Blue on Green

Closer to home a Blue Jay relaxes in the early-morning sun.

Blue Jay with Tall Grass

The hundreds of Red Soldier Beetles that gathered on a Hydrangea Paniculata were not ready to relax.

Busy Beetles

Mushrooms pop up every day and many, like these on a wood chip path, won’t stand up to the mid-day sun.

Sprouting through the wood chips

The Tomatillos in the garden, on the other hand, love the August sunshine as long as they get enough water.

Tomatillo Forest

The Sour Cherry crop is now put away – and our resident Chipmunks were glad to help in the harvest.

Ground Squirrel out on a Limb

Cherry Chipmunk

the crakes and their ilk

PHOTO POST

Do we have Crakes in North America? That depends on whose definition you follow, but I like this one from Merriam-Webster: “any of various rails, especially a short-billed rail.”

At least four species from the Rail family, including three short-billed ones, have made appearances within a kilometer of my home this year – so at least we can say that the Crake cousins are well represented here.

The first one to show up this year was the American Coot, in early spring. I only saw one individual, and it only stuck around for a few days. Likewise, the Common Gallinule and the Sora have also put in appearances here.

Consider the Coot (click images for full-screen views)

The Coot spends somewhat more time swimming than do most Rails, but when it gets out of the water you can see one of the distinctive adaptations shared by Rails. Their feet, which can spread across floating mats of roots and reeds in soupy mud, make it possible to stride through swamps where you and I would sink to our waists.

A Coot’s Feet

The Rails usually hang out in the marsh interior, and they’re not easy to find. But while you prowl the marsh’s edge looking for a good vantage you can spot all sorts of wonders. A multitude of snails, for example (which just happen to be one of the favoured foods of Rails).

In a wet light

Milkweed grows beside the marsh in great profusion, and the blooms attract the Virginia Ctenucha Moth.

Contrasticity

I’m convinced the spelling of Ctenucha was devised merely to confuse people. (The first letter is silent.) But apparently “ctenucha” means “having a comb”.

Tcomb

In the lush meadow at water’s edge there are several storeys of growth. Near ground level I pondered this botanical apparition.

It’s not easy thinking green

With a clear view of the marsh interior, on the right day, with the right light, you just might get a glimpse of some Rails – in this case, the Virginia Rails. The chicks appeared to be just a few days old and, camouflaged in coal-black fuzz, they remained all-but-invisible unless they ventured out of the shadows. (See if you can spot the one in the background below).

Illuminated Marsh

The Virginia Rail chicks already sported feet nearly as long as their tiny bodies.

In the spotlight

Nine days later I got a look at two more chicks, now foraging on their own, and beginning to show the Virginia Rail patterning.

Giant Steps

Taste of independence

While the Rails spend their summer walking among the reeds, seldom swimming or flying, most other marsh birds have different ways of life. Wood Ducks (below) swim throughout the marsh though they nest in trees close to water.

Under the Arch

Flycatchers are fond of the thickets at marsh edge. The different species are notoriously hard to distinguish except by their songs, and I didn’t hear this one sing before it flitted out of sight. Perhaps, some day, I might make its acquaintance once more.

Flycatcher


Photo at top of page: Learning the way (click here for larger view)

family planning

PHOTO POST

In early June some marsh birds are still picking out their nest sites, while others are already preparing their hatchlings to leave home.

The Marsh Wren (at top of page and below) is the tiniest bird in the marsh and not always easy to spot, but its song rings out far and wide. Somehow, in spite of singing incessantly, the male manages to build not one but many nests. As All About Birds explains, “males routinely mate with 2 or more females and build at least 6 dummy nests for every female they mate with.”

Listen Up (click images for full-screen view)

Once More, With Feeling

While Marsh Wrens hide their nests deep in the reeds, the Great Blue Heron favours sites in nearby trees.

Their sensitive eyes allow them to hunt day and night – but this one greeted the warm morning sun with a big yawn.

Pegleg’s Yawn

Mallard ducklings were among the first hatchlings I spotted this year, on May 21.

Formation Four

Cygnets were swimming around the marsh just a few days later.

Dive Five

Where there are young waterfowl a Parental Unit is close at hand, watching over the little ones and demonstrating how things are done.

Cygnet Lesson One

As twilight approaches the Mute Swan leads the cygnets out of the water to bed down on what remains of their nest. Before sleep a thorough grooming session is in order.

Cygnet Lesson Two

Just before dark I’m lucky to spot a group of less-usual visitors. Short-Billed Dowitchers* migrate far to the north, where the lengthy days allow the nesting season to be compressed, and their stops here seem to be brief.

Dowitcher Huddle

As twilight deepens the Marsh Wrens often sneak down to the waterline for a drink.

Marsh Wren’s Nightcap

For a brief moment, Yellow Pond-Lilies seize the light and shine as bright as the setting sun.

Liquid Sunset


Photo at top of page: Marsh Wren Prepares a Nest (click here for full-screen view)

* There is little difference in bill length between the Short-Billed and Long-Billed Dowitchers. Judging by the colour and patterning I think this bunch are Short-Billed.

 

water colours

PHOTO POST

April showers bring May flowers – and while it hasn’t been a wet spring we’ve had our share of dewey mornings, stormy skies, and a few rainbows. On schedule, all kinds of colours are popping out in garden, meadow, forest and marsh.

Some of the colours, to be sure, are left over from previous years, as with this bit of fern in the ivy.

The Fern & Ivy (click images for full-screen view)

Even on a sandy slope Stonecrop Sedum always manages to look lush in springtime, and a blade of grass provides a nice accent.

The Stripe & Speckle

Euphorbia in their many guises are also scattered among the sedums.

The Thirsty Midge

A late-afternoon shower, followed by a ray of sunshine, calls attention to a blooming Bleeding Heart.

The Heart of Pinkness

McLaughlin Bay Wildlife Reserve gives many species a place to thrive in its lowland forests, savannas, swamps and shorelines.

Among the many trees and shrubs in bloom right now are several varieties of what I think are flowering currants:

The Twig & Blossom

Frogs wait patiently for insects to wander just in front of their mouths.

The Frog & Fly

The water is so still that the frog’s breathing motion produces a pattern of ripples.

Froggie Makes Waves

The wet woodlands are beginning to go green.

The Squirrel & Wood

On a massive fallen tree trunk, fungi have been hard at work for years.

The Primeval Log

Back at home that evening a chittering chorus accompanies the sunset. The Swallows have discovered the clouds of midges over lakeshore and marsh. While they feed, we watch their flutters and swoops until light fades to darkness.

The Swallow & Sunset


You may have noticed that the titles of the photos above could also be used as names for new pubs. Feel free! I have not trademarked the names, and I will not send squadrons of lawyers after you if you choose one of these names for a new pub in my neighbourhood. Just saying.

juggling mudcats

PHOTO POST

Near the end of a gray spring afternoon a distant white flash caught my eye. A large bird settled at the other side of the marsh and its landing pattern was not at all swan-like, but just like the landing of a large heron.

“It must be a Great Egret,” I thought – though I had never seen one in these parts before. 

As soon as I could grab my camera I headed out on safari. The mysterious white bird was nowhere to be seen. At the far end of the marsh, however, a hedge of herons was assembling.

Heron Trio (click images for full-screen views)

First one, then two, three, and finally five Great Blue Herons were stalking one area. It became clear that fishing in this particular puddle was very good.

Mouthful

The fishing was so good, in fact, that our Egret made a sudden entrance to join the hunt.

Egret’s Entrance

At this point, alas, I must confess that my headline – “juggling mudcats” – is mere click-bait.

You were lured by the prospect of precocious little catfish juggling several tennis balls at once, perhaps while riding unicycles along a tightrope. But the best I can offer are pictures of birds tossing poor mudcats into the air, one at a time.

That being said, it is not easy to consume a squirming spiny catfish, which is much longer than your neck is wide, unless you serve your meal just right. For herons and their ilk, juggling a single mudcat is no mere parlour trick, it’s an essential life skill.

Catching the fish is just the first step.

Clean Strike

Next you must throw the fish high enough that gravity helps you swallow, then catch and re-catch the fish until it lands between your jaws at the ideal angle.

Tiger by the tail

Toss-up

Crosswise

Ready to eat

You might cock an ear to check that your supper has settled – and then you look for another fish.

Just checking



Photo at top of page:
White Shadow (click here for full-screen version)

 

chew on this

PHOTO POST

Spring is doing its best to supplant winter, but menus are still sparse for many creatures, herbivores in particular.

Understory

A few grasses are shooting up but the marsh reeds are brown and the earliest trees are just beginning to leaf out. The first flowers of the season, meanwhile, grow on plants that aren’t attractive to critters like rabbit and deer – an important trait for plants that want to get through much of their lifecycle before later and taller plants have time to shade the ground.

Damp Squill (with Sedum)

Squirrels make do with last year’s nuts and seeds, sometimes washed down with a sip of maple sap.

Red Squirrel

It makes sense that birds who survive primarily on seeds are particularly drawn to bird-feeders in our backyards right now. 

Beak & Crest

Both the Northern Cardinal, above, and Tree Sparrow, below, have sturdy short beaks especially suited to cracking seeds. Both species eat a lot of insects later in springtime, when insects become abundant and seeds are scarce or stale.

Tree Sparrow, on Fence

The swarms of midges are welcomed by those who eat insects, and those who eat those who eat insects.

Welcoming spring

On a warm afternoon spiders begin to stir, though the temperatures are still too chilly for spiders to be active most hours of the day.

Mute Swans are counted among the “flexitarians”, who eat primarily aquatic plants plus the occasional tadpole, mollusk or insect. Their characteristic feeding pose may not be their most elegant move, and occasionally they seem to come up empty.

Good Form

Cold Water, straight up

The low-lying woodlands now have some of the lushest vegetation, in the shape of many mosses.

At the root, moss

While few creatures eat moss, many birds, including Robins, do gather moss for use in building nests.

Robin, deep in the wood, at sunset

The woods are where food is found, for so many species. And for one of our largest local mammals, the woods are food. The Beaver builds its lodges and dams with wood, and also picks the tastiest and most nutritious tree parts for dinner.

Going to dinner

But at this time of year, with new tree growth just beginning, a Beaver can spend hours chewing away at fallen trunks from years past.

One bite at a time


Photo at top of page – Two Front Teeth (click here for full-screen image)

 

magic in the mud

PHOTO POST

The water level in Lake Ontario is extraordinarily low for this time of year, and so the shoreline marshes don’t have much depth. The diving ducks – Buffleheads, Mergansers, Long-tails and their ilk – are staying out on the lake or just migrating further north. But the dabblers – Northern Shovelers, Northern Pintails, Mallards and Ring-Necked Ducks – are happily feeding in the shallows.

Pintails up (click images for full-screen views)

A flock of Pintails (above and below) landed on a recent morning. After a quick look around their surroundings above the surface, they got to the real business: feeding on the vegetation below the surface.

Pintails down

Well out from the edges, the water in Bowmanville Marsh is so shallow that a migrating Yellowlegs can wade.

Ready to Fly

It might appear that a Robin has stowed away on a drifting log. But the Robin, like so many other small birds, is happy to bathe and drink right at marsh’s edge. This log was just a short jump away.

Robin Embarks

The low water also results in wide mud flats all around the marshes, and the Killdeers are loving it. Their shrill cries fill the air as they dash from one great feeding spot to another to another.

Breakfast right here

It’s better over here

Frogs are thawing in the spring sun’s warmth. These were spotted just a hop down the coast, at McLaughlin Bay on the east edge of Oshawa.

Leopard Frog I

Leopard Frog II

Frogs can be difficult to identify, but from my googling I’d say we have a Leopard Frog, above, and a Wood Frog, below.

Wood Frog

The water in much of Westside Marsh, as in Bowmanville Marsh, is only 15–20 centimeters deep. But Westside Marsh is a better swimming hole this spring for the large dabblers, including swans.

Trumpeter Trio

A trio of Trumpeter Swans, above, stopped by at least briefly. Meanwhile the locally more common Mute Swans were all over this marsh, and one pair, below, apparently ran aground.

Plumbing the Depths

On the muddy banks of marsh and creek, one bright flower is already marking the season. The tiny Coltsfoot blossom sparkles just a few centimeters above the cold mud.

Coltsfoot flower

And when the winds are still and the sun shines through the shallows, bright-coloured shoots light up the silty bottom. There’s life in all that mud.

Underwater Garden


Photo at top: clockwise from top, Northern Shovelers, Grackle, Killdeer, Mourning Dove (click here for full-screen version)

 

staying close to land

PHOTO POST

These days can be ever so quiet.

Some mornings the marsh is filled with geese and gulls, but other days the honks and screeches are far away.

Sparkle and Shadow

A pair of foxes might criss-cross the marsh before dawn, tracing the edges of every island, but leaving no evidence that they found a single mouse to eat.

If you come to a fork in the road, take it

Read More

the woodpecker’s tongue 

PHOTO POST

If I hadn’t gone grocery shopping on bicycle, I probably would have missed the oversized woodpecker checking out some local trees. But as I pedaled down the street towards home I heard a bird speaking a language I didn’t recognize, and I turned my head just in time to spot the flashy red crest of Dryocopus pileatus.

The colourful sight was a welcome treat given that nearly all migratory birds have left, vegetation is now mostly faded, and the sun’s glancing rays are often dulled by clouds. The views across marsh and lake often present in a nearly black and white palette.

Light Curves (click images for full-size views)

The Lesser Yellowlegs was one of the last traveling birds to come through from shores far to the north. On a cloudy evening the shallow muddy water made an austere background for this wader.

Dotted Lines

But in the afternoon sun the waters picked up reflected colour from surrounding plants.

Soft Splash

And a nearby stand of sumach turned the surface to crimson.

Red Dive

Warm days soon gave way to chillier mornings and the welcome sight of steam rising off the lake.

Sunrise Parade

The autumn still held a surprise, though, for the spectacular Pileated Woodpecker made a sudden appearance just a few days ago. Since this is not a migratory species, perhaps she has moved in nearby.

Listen Here

A bird this large needs to carve a deep hole for a nest, and the Pileated Woodpecker is up to the task. “Pileated Woodpeckers use their long necks to pull far back from the tree, then make powerful strikes with their heavy bills, pulling with their feet to increase the strength of the blow.” (allaboutbirds.org)

It’s convenient that some of the tastiest food lives in trees: “The birds also use their long, barbed tongues to extract woodboring beetle larvae.” (allaboutbirds.org)

Woodpecker’s Tongue


Photo at top of page: Exploration (click here for full-size image)