Great Gray Owl by Josh Haas

Let’s just bring it right out in the open: everybody thinks Owls are cute. The funny thing is, the cuteness typically ends at their face. While some Owls have this persona of “cute,” hopefully all of us can see through it and realize they are actually tenacious hunters at heart.

This blog brings to the table a story of a person who came upon an injured Great Horned Owl on the road. She thought the Owl looked at her with a “call for help” and they were immediately bonded. Because of this, she couldn’t believe this Owl could ever hurt her. After proceeding to ride in the car with the uncovered bird in her lap to the Rehabilitator, lucky for her the lethargic wild animal didn’t fully come to. For this situation, timing was everything. Luck was in the air as the bird stayed in a coma-like state just long enough. It wasn’t until about 30 minutes after the Rehabilitator had the bird that it finally came out of it and showed its true inner beauty of pure strength and power. Thank goodness the bird didn’t come out of it in the car with these folks. The Rehabilitator couldn’t believe how lucky they were and tried to ensure they learned from this experience.

Great Horned Owl by Josh Haas

As humans, we are very lucky in many ways. We have a different way of understanding and adaptations that have made us superior beings. For some, this means we owe it to animals and nature to step in from time to time. This is a great attitude to have but keeping it in perspective is important. In some cases, Rehabilitators rarely see much money for their efforts and a lot of what they do is their own dedication of time and resources. Think about donating or volunteering with these folks and help them continue doing what they are trained to do.

It’s wonderful to have folks that want to help, especially in situations where human impact was to blame and not Nature but remember that any wild animal needs to be approached safely and by those with experience. For me, Owls aren’t cute. I’m always inspired by their incredible senses and ability to hunt with grace and power. Remember, behind that cute face is a wild animal that does one thing and one thing well: hunt!

Limpkin with Apple Snail by Rosemary Allen

This is the time in our dry down with little or no rain occurring during the winter months. Some of the water from the sheet flow settles deeper into the pools found in the lowest sections of the cypress swamp. It was here that I was able to witness the bird behavior that keeps me coming back for more. This late winter landscape was a calm scene. Afternoon sunlight lit up the water through the still leafless cypress and the ponds were abundant with aquatic life. Wading birds close by included a Great Egret, White Ibis, Little Blue Heron and Great Blue Heron. Anhingas were courting with the males bringing one token branch after another to a female who wanted nothing to do with their offerings. A Black-crowned Night Heron perched on a branch farther out across the pond preening and waking up. Barred Owls called to each other in the distance.

Limpkin excavating snail by Rosemary Allen

But this late afternoon the star of the show was a limpkin wading in the dark clean water with a tip on the end of his bill that curved slightly to the right, meant for only one thing. This individual was particularly vocal and excited as it continued to find and remove one apple snail after another from their right-handed shell. After retrieving what was perhaps the largest one in this body of water, the Great Blue Heron, the master it seems at wading through these waters with patience and grace, slowly tuned his focus toward the Limpkin. The Limpkin headed toward the shallow end, using some floating vegetation to support his prize. His struggle to retrieve his prey pulled not only me in for a closer look, but the patient and graceful Great Blue Heron as well, a bird that appears to have elevated standing meditation to an art form in the bird world. At the point where the meat dangled from the shell and his satisfaction was imminent, this swamp story unfolded with an unexpected ending. The patient and graceful Great Blue Heron made his move, pouncing from behind with his bill aimed at the apple snail. But the Limpkin was keen to his sneaky ways and slipped out with the expertise of a martial artist, devouring his meal in a less crowded area of the pond. The heron would have to be patient a little longer.

Great Blue Heron by Rosemary Allen

Burmese Python by Jungle Pete

In 2008 the USGS released a potential range map for Burmese Pythons (Python molurus bivittatus) in the United States. The startling suggestion was that the lower third of the continental US could be prime habitat. What it neglected to point out was that this tropical weather-loving snake can’t take the cold.

As evidence, in 2000 the Everglades National Park removed two Burmese Pythons. In 2005 they removed 94 more. In 2009 they removed the highest number ever at 367 followed by a decline in 2010 to 322 and in 2011 only 169 were found. In 2010 Florida suffered a sustained period of cold weather. For ten days, the temperature remained un-Florida like and the consequence was the death of many of the invasive species (as well as many of our native one like the West Indian Manatee (Trichechus manatus) and American Crocodile (Crocodylus acutus).

West Indian Manatee

The snakes are a huge problem. Necropsies have found the endangered Florida Woodrat (Neotoma floridana), Big Cypress Fox Squirrel (Sciurus niger avicinnia), Wood Storks (Mycteria americana), Everglades Mink (Mustela vison evergladensis) and recently a 76 pound deer in the belly of the snakes.

Wood Stork, adult © Arthur Morris/VIREO

Compounding the problem is the protective nature and prodigious offspring output of a female Python. One female can lay up to ninety eggs. Cold will keep them from spreading north. Strict laws are being put in place to ban the importation of the largest and most dangerous of the invaders and most of the locals are intent on dispatching them.

If only I could enlighten the media a little.
1) Alligators rule the Everglades
2) A handful of pet Anacondas have been found and they are not known to be breeding in the Everglades.
3) The Everglades is over four million acres. The study of mammal population declines occurred in the Everglades National Park. The pythons do not have “voracious appetites”, nor are they “picking the Everglades clean”.
4) The media has a stranglehold on their readers. We have a right to well researched, well written information. Not sensationalism.

To those that would release invasive snakes into the Everglades and to those in the media who perpetuate the python myths – Stop it.

Downy Woodpecker adult male, eastern © Adrian & Jane Binns/VIREO

Scientists and bird watchers can learn a lot just by knowing where birds are located at any given time. But birds are always on the move and populations constantly rise and fall. No single scientist or even a team of scientists could hope to document the complex distribution and movements of so many species over huge landscapes in such a short time as just four days. Enter the Great Backyard Bird Count, and thousands of bird watchers like you.

The Great Backyard Bird Count is an annual four-day event that engaging bird watchers of all ages in counting birds to create a real-time snapshot of where the birds are across the entire continent. This year the count will take place from February 17-20th. Anyone can participate, from beginning bird watchers to experts. It takes as little as 15 minutes on one day, or you can count for as long as you like each day of the event at as many places as you’d like.

Northern Cardinal, adult male © Glenn Bartley/VIREO

You don’t have to be a bird expert to participate. If you see a species you can’t identify, consult Audubon Guides for help. But if you’re still not sure what the bird is, you don’t have to report that species. Only report the ones you do know. There is something everyone can contribute to this project.

Last year GBBC participants reported 594 species on more than 92,000 lists—counting more than 11.4 million birds for the GBBC. Warmer temperatures and lack of snow in parts of North America are setting the stage for what could be a most intriguing count yet.

American Robin © Garth McElroy/VIREO

Past counts have shown the highest probability of finding American Robins in areas without snow. That probability dropped dramatically in areas with even just a few centimeters of snow cover. In the Northeast this year we are seeing unprecedented numbers of American Robins in the north and we are also experiencing record low snow pack.

Over the last 15 years, GBBC participants have helped track the spread of Eurasian Collared-Doves. Native to Europe, these doves escaped captivity and first appeared in Florida in the 1980’s. They have been expanding their range ever since. In the most recent count, participants reported Eurasian Collared-Doves in 40 states and provinces, and it was even reported from Alaska for the first time during the 2011 GBBC!

Eurasian Collared-Dove © Rob Curtis/VIREO

Every sighting reported in the Great Backyard Bird Count becomes part of a permanent record that anyone with Internet access can explore. You can use the information to track year-to-year changes in the abundance and distribution of birds and learn about the complex patterns of winter bird movements. Look for trends that indicate how well birds are faring in the face of environmental changes such as urbanization, global climate change, and disease. Grab your Audubon Guides Bird app and join all of us this weekend for the Great Backyard Bird Count. For more information visit www.birdcount.org

Top 10 Reported Birds in 2011

Sparrows have always had the bad rap of looking the same and being difficult to identify. They are often lumped into a group of birds called the “lbj’s” or “little brown jobbies”: birds that all look the same and aren’t worth the time it takes to identify them. To these folks I say: nonsense! With some patience, sparrow identification is pretty straightforward with most species having obvious features that can be used for identification.

Song Sparrow © Drew Weber

Across much of North America, the Song Sparrow is the default sparrow. It is worth the time to really get to know the field marks of Song Sparrows. It has smudgy red-brown streaks on its chest and a spot in the center of its chest.

White-throated Sparrow © Drew Weber

During the winter months, one of the most common sparrows is the White-throated Sparrow. Aptly named, the White-throated Sparrow has a bright white patch on its throat, as well as white stripes on its head that turn bright yellow near the beak. These are one of the most common feeder birds in many areas, especially when snow has covered up their more natural food sources.

White-crowned Sparrow © Drew Weber

A close relative, the White-crowned Sparrow, has bold black and white barring on its head. White-crowned Sparrows are less common at feeders, often tending to hang around overgrown hedgerows along fields. Depending on the habitat around your yard, you may be lucky enough to host these large sparrows.

Dark-eyed Junco © Drew Weber

Another easy to identify winter sparrow is the boldly patterned Dark-eyed Junco. Dark above and white below, the little twittering noises of these birds as they scavenge for seeds under my feeder always makes me happy. Juncos vary widely in their plumage across their range and it can be fun to scan through the flocks, looking for a ‘pink-sided’ junco.

American Tree Sparrow © Drew Weber

The most northern of the winter sparrows is the American Tree Sparrow. With its red cap, it is superficially similar to the Chipping Sparrow, a summertime resident. However, the bi-colored bill and spot on the breast separate it from Chipping Sparrow.

These are the most common sparrows you will encounter during the winter in the northeast. Most of them have pretty distinctive features, so the next time you see a sparrow hopping under the feeder or in the shrubs, take the time to identify it and add it to the list of birds that you can quickly recognize.

Adult Great Horned Owl, Southeastern © Rick and Nora Bowers/VIREO

When I saw the two ears just above the edge of a large nest forty feet up the cottonwood, I thought to myself “a Great Horned Owl is already on the nest in late January”. I gathered our birding group and set up the spotting scope and was surprised to see the “ears” were not the feathered ear tufts of a Great Horned Owl, but the furry ears of a Gray Fox high in the tree enjoying the winter sun. I had often seen foxes relaxing on low branches of willows and other small trees but this one won the prize for tree climbing.

The Gray fox (Urocyon cinereoargenteus), may be at the top of the tree because it is at the bottom of the canine food chain. A very atypical canid, Gray Foxes are adept climbers and may climb or roost in trees to escape coyotes. Many years ago, as a wildlife rehabilitator, I had the chance to raise both a young Gray Fox and a young Red Fox in North Central Texas. I would let them out in our large nature center auditorium to play and a rousing game of tag often ensued. The Gray Fox was no match for the long legged Red Fox in a straight race, but whenever the Red Fox got close the Gray would go arboreal across chairs and tables and outmaneuver his pursuer.

Gray Fox © Daniel J. Cox, Natural Exposures

Although the overall color is mostly gray, the rufous on the shoulders of Gray Foxes sometimes misleads people into calling them Red Foxes. Gray Foxes seem to be a charming mix of dog and cat. They only weigh about as much as a big house cat, 8-10 pounds, with short legs and a long snout. They make a variety of chirps, barks and yips that sound anything but doglike. Like a Coyote, they are efficient predators on mice, birds, lizards and large insects and will eat fruit in season. Their ability to climb, rare among canids, allows them to reach fruit high in the tree. Since they are mostly nocturnal, I don’t see them often. But now that I have a better search image, I’ll be checking all the old raven’s nests I see for those telltale ears.

“For this was seynt on Valentyne’s day
Whan every foul cometh ther to choose his mate”
- Chaucer’s “Parliament of Foules”

Nesting season, what a perfect time to find our own Valentine! And a present of chocolate might just put our loved one in the right frame of mind. In southern Mexico and parts of Central America, frothy chocolate drinks have been served at weddings for thousands of years. Casanova is said to have consumed chocolate to enhance his performance. For centuries, humans have believed in the power of chocolate.

Today, we’re clearly hooked on chocolate. From 1970 to 1995, the world production of it doubled. According to a 2009 Nielsen report, Americans spend about $345 million dollars on 58 million pounds of chocolate for Valentine’s Day.

Here’s where birds come into the story once again. Chocolate comes from the seeds of Cacao trees (Theobroma cacao), which is native to tropical lowland rain forests of Central and South America. Lot’s of the chocolate we purchase comes from these areas and many of the songbirds that greet us each summer morning pass the winter there.

Adult Bicknell's Thrush © Steve Faccio/VIREO

Cacao is grown in the understory in the shade of tall trees. Scientists have compared bird communities in shade grown Cacao plantations with forest fragments in Panama and found them to be fairly similar. They found over 200 different kinds of birds with 86 species found in cacao only and only 46 in forest fragments only. Eighteen species of migratory songbirds were found only in Cacao. With lowland rainforest disappearing or fragmented, shade grown Cacao (and shade grown coffee) is becoming more and more important for bird conservation.

While much of the Cacao is still grown in the traditional way under a forest canopy, many growers are now clearing forests to cultivate the trees in more open plantations. Organic chocolate is made from shade-grown Cacao. It often supports fair trade practices, where farmers and workers harvesting the beans are paid fairly, and the Cacao is grown without the use of synthetic fertilizers and pesticides.

Jesus and Jaime Moreno, businessmen and conservationists from the Dominican Republic, visited Mount Mansfield in Vermont and joined me to see a Bicknell’s Thrush a few years ago. This bird breeds here in the mountains and winters in the Caribbean where the Moreno’s live. It is one of the rarest migratory songbirds in North America. Luckily, I was able to not only show them the bird singing, but I captured one during my research work. I let one of them hold the bird and let it go after I banded it. They couldn’t believe this little bird sitting on the palm of their hand would fly thousands of miles to their home in just a few months.

Adult Male Bicknell's Thrush © Tim Laman/VIREO

The Moreno brothers were inspired. Back home they decided to invent and market a new ice cream flavor from their company that would help raise awareness and money for Bicknell’s Thrush conservation. The ice cream is called Choco-Maple, possibly the first flavor ever created for a migratory bird. The idea was to combine distinctive flavors from both ends of the Bicknell’s Thrush migratory range, organic cacao and macadamia nuts grown in the Dominican Republic and maple syrup from Vermont. Profits are donated to help conserve Bicknell’s Thrush habitat.

Although the ice cream is only available in the Dominican Republic, you can do your share to help conserve songbird habitat through your buying power. This year think about purchasing organic chocolate (and coffee) to please your Valentine and the birds.

Everglades Guide Jason with a Burmese Python

We must do everything we can to rid the Everglades of all invasive plant and animal species. That’s a seemingly impossible task at this point for the supposed invasive species capitol of the world. We must also prevent the importation and introduction of any new species to protect the currently out of whack balance of South Florida’s ecosystem. Having said that, I am enraged by the ignorant media coverage regarding the “big snakes” in the Everglades. In December of 2011 an article titled “Severe mammal declines coincide with proliferation of invasive Burmese pythons in Everglades National Park” was published and the media-led hysteria that followed offered tabloid style headlines that fed into people’s natural fears.

“Pythons Rule Florida’s Everglades”
“Pythons and Anacondas Dominate Food Chain”
“Burmese Pythons Picking Florida’s Everglades Clean”
“Pythons have stranglehold on Everglades”

A local NBC anchor suggested without a trace of skepticism that the population of the invasive giants was well over 200,000. This is a stunning climb up the food chain from a few years ago when the estimate was 9,000, then 15,000, 30,000 and then inexplicably 150,000. Now 200,000 plus? Stop it.

Burmese Pythons (Python molurus bivittatus) are endangered in their native Southeast Asian range, thanks to poaching and exportation for the pet trade. People buy them as pets because they’re cuddly or they’re constricting. Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference. They get to be big, growing to lengths over 20 feet. Eventually they’re the ideal pet they once were and owners dump them in the Everglades. Many were thought to have escaped into the swamp in 1992 when Hurricane Andrew devastated Homestead, Florida, home of many reptile breeders and importers.

Northern Raccoon

The scientific paper that has flamed the frenzy claimed that Northern Raccoons (Procyon lotor), Virginia Opossums (Didelphis virginiana) and bobcat sightings (both live and road kill) are down about 99% from a period of time that predated the python infestation. Now one of the co-authors is distancing himself from the suggestion that pythons are to blame. He says it’s possible, but he blames the media for drawing a correlation between the two.

Virginia Opossum with young © Jack Dermid

They did note that top predators like the Florida Panther (Puma concolor coryi) and Coyote (Canis latrans) (an Everglades new comer), populations had increased but did not suggest that they could be culprits in the population declines of prey species such as raccoons and opossums. Nor did they mention the severe drought the Everglades National Park has experienced and what effect that might have on the need for certain species to seek out better habitat.

Florida Panther © Brian Kenney

The analysis of the scientific paper was lacking and the media did not do their due diligence to understand the entire issue. The shocking headline was enough to craft an exciting tale of reptile Armageddon. I’ll explain more about the biology of the pythons, the threat they pose and what we need to do to stop it. Next week.

They call Florida a peninsula, but it’s just a giant sandbar. A friend of mine calls it “The Big Spit”. I was really looking forward to being roasted brown. Well, those plans went out the window.

Then I got an invitation from my long-time friend Charlie Rattigan to join him at the Space Coast Birding and Nature Festival. I knew nothing about the festival, but Titusville, Florida had to be warmer than Winnipeg. And it was in an area where I could finally, maybe, find the Florida Scrub-Jay, a bird that had eluded me on three previous trips to The Sunshine State. Maybe the Red-cockaded Woodpecker and the Brown-headed Nuthatch too.

Getting a plane ticket at the very last minute means one thing: bad itinerary. I had to get up at 4:00 am, fly to Chicago, wait there, fly to Cleveland, wait there, then fly to Orlando. Wait there too — for Charlie to arrive. ARRRRGH! Fourteen hours sitting on airline seats and in noisy terminals!

Only one week in Florida instead of two months: I’d better make the most of it.

We got to Titusville a day before the festival began and decided to do some preliminary birding on our own. Using the Audubon Birds app with its “Find Birds with eBird” connection on Charlie’s iPhone, we quickly found out where Florida Scrub-jays had recently been spotted. Of the numerous sightings, Cape Canaveral National Seashore seemed like the perfect choice; it was not only close but shared a border with Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge.

When we got to the fee station on Merritt Island, we asked the ranger on duty where the Scrub-jays were. An affable, talkative guy, he told us to park the car and walk behind the ranger station. We couldn’t believe it. They could be right there!

Then again, the curse of the mythical Florida Scrub-Jay could still be operational. I’d missed a sure thing before; I could be unlucky again.

Before we began walking around, we checked the app for the songs and calls of the jay, not as noisy and insistent as a Blue Jay. The Florida Scrub-Jay is quieter, a more modest “shreep.”

Right away we saw a jay-sized grayish bird scooting through the bushes. Could we be so lucky as to see a Scrub Jay this quickly? Nope. It was a Northern Mockingbird (very plentiful in Florida).

Northern Mockingbird © James M. Wedge/VIREO

Was that a “shreep” we heard on the other side of the bushes? Was that the mockingbird mocking us, imitating the jay?

We cut though the bushes and got to an opening where the railroad tracks separated the refuge from the Kennedy Space Center. We’d been warned not to go past the tracks. For a second I thought to myself: am I willing to be clapped in jail for a lifer? Will I have to cross the tracks to find the elusive Florida Scrub-Jay?

In the time it took to ask and answer my own question, it became irrelevant. A Scrub-jay appeared as if out of nowhere, flying across the tracks from the Space Center property and perched in a small tree next to the tracks. Then suddenly another, and another, and another. Four Scrub-Jays. Three hopping on the tracks coming ever closer. We hoisted our binoculars and took them in. Soon we didn’t really need to. They were close enough to see clearly with the naked eye. These are lovely birds. A blue that reminds me of the color of a Mountain Bluebird with a white throat and a necklace of blue.

Florida Scrub-Jay © Arthur Morris/VIREO

These Scrub-jays were curious and fearless like their cousins the Gray Jays, the “Whiskey Jacks.” The boldest one, with four leg bands, bounced along the railroad ties and came within a foot of my boots. The three others, without bands, got within six feet or so, but no closer. The jays stayed until we had imprinted them indelibly in our minds. What a great way to get a lifer!

On our way out, we thanked the park ranger. He asked if we were interested in owls too. When we said yes, he told us to stop down the road and look in an open field surrounded by a fence.

There on a fifty foot high pole was an Osprey nest. In the nest was a Great Horned Owl. Clearly, a lazy but feisty owl.

Great Horned Owl adult, Eastern © Johann Schumacher/VIREO

We poked around the island some more. Man, there are a lot of vultures in Florida! Has the economic depression attracted them in such numbers, or is it always like this? Hardly a minute passed without us seeing either a Black or a Turkey Vulture, often dozens at a time. Soaring, teetering, swooping and looking for carrion. Eerie!

And Coots. Coots everywhere! The ponds and lagoons of Merritt Island are full of coots. We saw hundreds and hundreds at a time. And lovely views of Snow and Great egrets with an occasional Tricolored heron in the mix of birds.

Our daily list had reached thirty birds in less than three hours when we decided to head out. We’d seen some great birds: a Bald Eagle (always a thrill), Northern Cardinals, Pine warblers, Boat-tailed Grackles (better vocalizations than their Common cousins), Red-bellied woodpeckers (pretty common), Eurasian Collared-Doves, and White Ibises, to mention just a few.

White Ibis adult, breeding © Arthur Morris/VIREO

On our way off the island we decided to stop at a beach on the north side of the road just before the bridge. We’d seen some gulls and waders along the shore from a distance.

The gulls included: Ring-billed, Bonaparte’s, Laughing, Great Black-backed. There were some interesting terns. Forster’s (always a special treat) and side-by-side a Caspian and a Royal Tern, offering a great opportunity to note the subtle differences. White crown and yellow-orange bill on the Royals, black skullcap and red-orange bill on the Caspian.

Among the gulls and terns, a special bird for me, also turned out to be a lifer. Black skimmers, close to 100 birds resting about 10 yards offshore on land that had not been covered by the tide. One took off and flew closer. With its lower mandible skimming the smooth surface of the lagoon, it was unmistakable – even for someone who has never seen one before.

Black Skimmer adult, breeding © Arthur Morris/VIREO

We then turned our attention to the shorebirds. Shorebirds are a challenging species for me and many people. It’s often impossible to distinguish one from another, particularly when they are dressed in their winter plumage. It can be frustrating. Paying attention to behaviour near the water’s edge will provide the observer with ID clues.

There were Ruddy Turnstones, turning stones: always fun to see, sanderlings behaving like wind up toys, and dunlins actively feeding.

It was a remarkable morning of birding – sharing the experience of seeing two life birds with my friend as well as the enjoyment and challenge of finding and identifying birds in this still wild area shared with scrub-jays, rockets, and astronauts.

Gray Wolf by Lisa Densmore

Location: Yellowstone National Park

En route to Yellowstone National Park, my sweetheart received a text message from his 15-year-old son who was just leaving the park.

“Saw a wolf!” read the text message.

“Where?” we wrote back.

“Near the gate by Gardner,” came the reply.

An hour later, just after passing under the massive stone arch at the northwestern entrance to Yellowstone, we spied a canine animal stalking something in the snowy sagebrush, a coyote. As we watched the coyote pounce then swallow a dark vole, I realized the reported wolf was likely this coyote, a common misidentification.

Coyote

The Gray wolf (Canis lupus), also known as an Arctic wolf, Common wolf, Mexican wolf, Plains wolf, Timber wolf and Tundra wolf, is much bigger than a Coyote (Canis latrans). The average Coyote stands about 24 inches at the shoulder and weighs less than 50 pounds. The largest Coyote on record weighed less than 75 pounds. By comparison, the average Gray Wolf is 33 inches tall at the shoulder and weighs over 60 pounds. Alaskan and other far-northern wolves often weigh over 100 pounds. The heaviest Gray Wolf on record in North America tipped the scales at 175 pounds! Wolves also have larger, wider snouts, shorter ears, and a proportionately smaller head than coyotes.

Gray Wolf with young © Rita Summers

The next morning, we saw the wolf in the first photo trotting purposefully across a frozen hillside. Resembling a cross between a German shepherd and a Husky, its gray, cream and dark gold winter coat was so lush, I wanted to run my hand over it, but I wasn’t about to get out of the car to pet a wild wolf!

Wolves are apex predators. They are exceptionally strong for their size, able to turn over a dead moose. Their teeth can crush with double the strength of a German shepherd’s teeth. And they can run fast, over 35 miles per hour.
“I wish it were a black one,” said my partner. Wolf fur color can include every shade of white, cream, gray, brown and black. About half of the Yellowstone population is reportedly black. I didn’t care its color. I was happy for the chance to photograph one.