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

walk on the wet side

PHOTO POST

Through the past week’s intermittent rains returning migrants have joined our full-time residents around the bird feeders and in the marsh, while green shoots have begun to decorate muddy creek banks.

Cardinal Number Two (click images for larger view)

This Black-Capped Chickadee looks for food in a freshly-pruned Forsythia.

Black-Cap Times Two

Our many sparrows include a Tree Sparrow (which likes to feed on the grass beneath a bird feeder) and a Song Sparrow (seen below on a fallen tree beside Bowmanville Creek).

Tree Sparrow on Wet Canvas

 

Still Life with Song Sparrow

Tree branches would barely show against the sticky mud flats along Soper Creek – except for the vivid mosses growing on the wood and the lichens growing on the moss.

Branch of Green

One such lichen, Cladonia asahinae, grows particularly on Chorisodontium aciphyllum, Polytrichum strictum, and Andreaea species of moss. You may prefer an alternate description: these are the cups used by forest pixies to collect and drink the morning dew.

Pixie Cup Lichen

But the tall stems on this moss also do a good job of hanging on to a morning fog.

Forest on the Forest Floor

Just a few steps away some of the first big leaves are emerging from the same saturated mud.

Green Red and Blue

The abundant moisture helps bring out the rich colour in fractured tree stumps.

Robin on Wet Stump

Even on a dull morning in the marsh, Canada Geese have ways of adding their own colour.

Interpretations May Vary

But by late afternoon on a calm, clear day, it can be warm enough to climb up onto a log and dry off in the warm sun.

Sunset Turtle

Top photo: Cardinal Number One (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)

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)

Colour in the eye of the beholder

Photo Post

The marshes are a sea of green, wild and garden flowers are coming into bloom, and one 24-hour period this week saw a burst of nesting activity by the Snapping Turtles.

Notwithstanding all the vivid hues, the tranquility of many midsummer days comes across beautifully in photos of minimal colour.

Waterbug (click images for larger view)

 

Spin

In our garden the Asiatic Lilly (above) and Sea Holly (below) were just about to bloom.

Sea Holly

The lawn is dotted with Daisy Fleabane (below).

Pink & Yellow

Even in the compost bin, an occasional “flower” sprouts from the dark decomposition.

Compost Flower

 

Beach Path

On the dunes and on the marsh, elegant forms rise from the sand and water surfaces.

Making Waves

 

Sunset Stride

As the sun dips below the horizon, a family of swans climbs out on a mud flat, while a turtle digs a lakeside nest to deposit her eggs.

Excavator

 
Top photo: Close Look (click here for larger view)

 

light lines

PHOTO POST

Bright light and shadows run through this week’s post, with photos from garden and forest, marsh and lakeshore.

When there’s a fork in the road, take it (click images for larger views)

 

Mullein

This Mullein plant, lit from the other side by early morning sunlight, grows just beneath a bird feeder. The spot is a favourite hangout for squirrels, who encourage the Blue Jays to spill as much seed as possible.

Feeding Grounds

Purple Finches (who always look more red than purple to me) also visit the same feeder.

I See Red

 

Goldfinch

The Goldfinches and Hummingbirds get their own special feeders.

Wing

 

Antennae

The above photo comes from a bit farther afield, on the bank of a small pond within the grounds of the Darlington Nuclear Station.

Below, the shadows of sunset play across the surface of Soper Creek where a submerged branch breaks the gentle current.

Ripple

On the same evening, a Kingbird rests above a logjam on Bowmanville Creek.

Kingbird

Dozens of Dunlins swirled along the lakeshore on a breezy afternoon, plucking insects as waves splashed over the stones.

Landing

 

Seven

 

Fast Runner

Every so often the birds would rise together in an instant, swoop out over the water in a fast-moving cloud, and circle back to a new spot a bit further down the shore. What caused these sudden flurries? The Dunlins, it appeared, didn’t appreciate the company of a Grackle, whose stroll along the beach repeatedly got too close for comfort.

Grackle

The edge of summer

 PHOTO POST

While a few migratory birds are still stopping by on their way to nesting grounds far to the north, some resident birds have already hatched big broods. Meanwhile woodland flowers are hurrying to develop before the leafy canopies above cast a blanket of shade.

A few days ago a pair of Dunlins paid a colourful visit to Port Darlington beach, pecking at the wet sand in search of tiny insects. Since they nest along the Arctic coast and the shore of Hudson’s Bay these birds still have a long way to fly.

Travellers (click images for larger views)

Along Bowmanville Creek just north of the harbour, a ramshackle beaver lodge has appeared vacant since it was submerged by last spring’s high water. But this curious Mink seems to be quite at home.

Guardian

 

Preaching to the Choir

Two weeks ago there was little trace of these ferns beyond the stumps of last year’s growth. Now they have emerged and unfurled their fronds more than half a meter high. In the interim the muddy forest floor was dotted with fiddleheads.

Fiddlehead Duet

Another woodland plant is just about to present a well-kept secret. The intoxicating aroma of the Mayapple blossom will soon be present –  but you have to get down on hands and knees and peer under the umbrella-leaves of the Mayapple to find its single flower. The single delicious yellow fruit, similarly hidden, will ripen in August – and the squirrels will be ready.

Promise of a Flower

Under a tree on a sand dune, Vinca is now in flower.

Ground Cover

 

Rafting

In the marsh, shoots of green are just emerging amongst the sun-bleached stubble of last year’s reeds. A pair of Common Terns found that a couple pieces of the pithy cattail stalks make a fine raft.

The Great Blue Herons keep watch around the marsh’s edge for the many fish that ripple the water’s surface.

Focus

 

Sunday Morning

Pairs of Canada Geese are watching their nests throughout the marsh and along the creek banks – but some families have really gotten a jump on the season.

Slipstream

Top photo: Beachcombing (click here for full-size image)