Butterfly Orchid (Encyclia tampensis) © Jungle Pete

Throwback Thursday: Flowers for Father’s Day by Jungle Pete

Originally Posted June 18th, 2012

The Six Mile Cypress Slough Preserve is a nine-mile long, third of a mile wide, linear strand of forest in Fort Myers, Florida. I assume the name “Nine Mile Cypress Slough Preserve” had already been taken. The 2500-acre preserve is home to a remarkable diversity of plants and wildlife, many of which can be seen on a two and half mile boardwalk.

My dad and I came out here years ago and while others were quick to speed around the circuit we stopped and sat on a bench. We watched Green Anoles flaring their dewlaps in a reptilian show of dominance. We watched a Yellow Rat Snake glide between cypress knees. We spotted a female Northern Cardinal flitting from branch to branch and we listened to a Carolina Wren belt out an unimaginably loud call for such a small bird. A couple of people walked by at a brisk pace and dejectedly remarked that there was nothing to see here. I’ve heard this complaint repeated many times through the years no matter where I go. I’m hoping they’re referring to the wildlife and not me.

I spent Father’s Day at the Six Mile Cypress this year. The rains have yet to fill the swamp and I found myself saying how little there was to see. Thinking about my visit with my father, my wife and baby stopped and took it all in.

Butterfly Orchid (Encyclia tampensis) © Jungle Pete

Clinging to a Pop Ash, about ten feet off the dry swamp floor was a beautiful Florida Butterfly Orchid (Encyclia tampensis). This bee pollinated epiphyte (a plant that grows on another plant) gets its name from the way the flowers dance in the wind like butterflies. The relatively common orchid blooms from May through August from central Florida south through the Everglades. The plant is not parasitic but does get support from the tree and nutrients and water from its heightened position.

We spotted five different flowers in the preserve today which is five more than I’ve seen before here. It helped to have beautiful yellow flowers cast about in the breeze but I might have missed them had I not stopped to look up and around.

I couldn’t be with my father today but here are some flowers for Father’s Day.

Butterfly Orchid (Encyclia tampensis) © Jungle Pete

Originally Posted June 2011

Buffet Mixer © Jungle Pete

There are a variety of benefits to doing things in groups. Consider the last cookout you attended. Someone else bought the food. Someone else cooked and cleaned up. There was less risk of being eaten by a predator. Communal roosting makes sense too. Eating and roosting together makes sense for Great Egrets, Snowy Egrets and White Ibis.

More ears and eyes means predators are at a disadvantage during a sneak attack. While roosting, huddling can conserve warmth for those with the best spots in the roost. The downside is when you head out for breakfast in the morning everyone follows. The older and experienced birds tolerate social parasitism in exchange for safety in numbers. There is a pecking order and bigger birds can dominate others in the flock.

Finding food is also easier with many eyes looking. Once located, the buffet commences. Here a flock of Great White Egrets, Snowy Egrets and a few White Ibis have found a high concentration of fish and frog eggs to feast on.

Around the outskirts of the buffet are Little Blue Herons who are exhibiting commensalism. As the Egrets and Ibis stir things up, the Little Blue Herons feed on what the rest of the birds are not interested in. Essentially commensalism is when one species feeds among others and benefits without harming or benefiting the main species. In this case the Little Blue Heron is the guy that came to the party with the friend you invited. Little Blues are twice as successful when feeding commensally as opposed to individually.

May marked the end of the dry season in Florida which generally runs from December through May 15th. As the wetlands begin to fill with water and prey species re-colonize the marshes and swamps, many of the wading birds will rely less on communal feeding and venture out to forage solo. After a long day of hunting, it’s back to the communal roost for an evening of preening and sleep. Party on.

American Bison by Jim Peaco

For North American hoofed mammals, the month spanning a couple of weeks on either side of Memorial Day is the height of the birthing season. Most elk calves, deer fawns, and bighorn sheep lambs are born during this time. Moose and pronghorn also birth their young after spring is well underway. However, there is one hoofed mammal of the American West that births its babies sooner. American Bison (bison bison) may begin calving as early as April, sometimes dropping their young to an earth that is still covered in snow.

While some young ungulates such as pronghorn and mountain goats appear much like miniature adults, baby bison look quite different than their parents. Their coat is reddish brown or golden, much lighter than the dark brown and nearly black hair found on adult bison. Baby bison lack the curving horns found on adults of both sexes, although a close inspection of a newborn bison’s head by an expert can reveal the tiny buds from which its horns will grow.

Healthy, adult bison are essentially immune from predation. However, wolves and grizzly bears will readily attempt to catch newborn bison. If a bison herd stands its ground against a potential predation attempt by wolves, the young are normally safe. If the herd panics and young bison are separated from the adults, they are much more easily taken by wolves.

Impressive and powerful, it’s not likely that anyone would describe an adult bison as “cute.” But for the first couple months of life, their babies certainly fit the definition, perhaps an odd descriptor for little ones that may one day weigh a ton.

Peregrine Falcon, adult © Doug Wechsler/VIREO

Peregrinations by Gene Walz

We’ve had a drearily long winter in Manitoba. Six months of freezing temperatures. Even for wintry Winnipeg this is L-O-N-G. It’s May, and big piles of snow still lurk in some shady places. AAARRGH!

The cold and the long-lasting ice and snow (not just in our province but in the Dakotas south of us) have delayed bird migration here. Everything is at least two weeks behind schedule.

Disruptions from routines, even the tardy arrival of spring, can have some very beneficial effects.

Until this year we never suspected that more than a handful of Peregrine Falcons migrated through Manitoba. Then, on April 25, 22 peregrines passed the raptor migration watch at Windy Gates, Manitoba on the North Dakota border. The next day, an astonishing 46 peregrines were recorded. Wow!

Less than 50 years ago, there was only one peregrine sighted in all of Canada east of the Rocky Mountains. Now we have scores zooming through Manitoba in a matter of weeks!

Because we so often hear of declining bird populations, these numbers are both amazing and heartening.

Peregrine Falcon, adult © Doug Wechsler/VIREO

A peregrine recovery program started here in the late 1980s. Since then up to four pairs of these gorgeous raptors have nested in two southern cities in Manitoba every year. With cliff sides and now tall buildings as their favorite nest-sites, few of us thought much about the possibility that other peregrines could be passing through.

Thanks to hawk-watches and the internet, we now realize that the Pembina Valley is a major flight path. Peregrines that breed in Nunavut and Nunavik in the territories north of Manitoba commonly fly through here on their way north to arctic-nesting sites at Rankin Inlet (on Hudson Bay), Igloolik (on the Melville Peninsular), Steensby Inlet (on Baffin Island) and elsewhere.

Peregrines are nesting north of the Arctic Circle in places with few cliffs and fewer skyscrapers. Who knew?!

Ocelot © C. Allan Morgan

Throwback Thursday: Ocelots in the Sky Islands by Sheri Williamson

Originally Posted May 23rd, 2012

A little cat has been making big news in Arizona. Back in November 2009, a remote camera in the Huachuca Mountains, placed by volunteers with Tucson-based Sky Island Alliance, captured a blurry but recognizable photo of an Ocelot. This was the first solid evidence for the species’ presence in Arizona in almost 50 years.

Tantalizing to be sure, but anyone who spends time in the wild knows just how rare it is to see even the relatively common Bobcat. That’s why it was so exciting to hear on February 8, 2011 that dogs had treed an Ocelot in the Huachucas. The animal, which appeared to be a healthy adult male, was allowed to go on its way unharmed after photo and video documentation. It was much grayer and shorter-nosed than the more familiar tropical subspecies, as befits an Ocelot of the colder, more arid Southwest.

Four months later, the Monument fire swept through the southern part of the Huachuca Mountains, causing many to fear for the life of this very special feline neighbor. The story recently took an optimistic turn in late April, when a private citizen’s remote camera captured new Ocelot photos in the Huachucas. These are being examined by biologists with the Arizona Game & Fish Department and compared with the 2011 photos. Whether or not the spot patterns match, we know that there is still at least one Ocelot roaming Arizona’s “sky islands.”

Less than 40 miles as the raven flies from the Arizona encounters, other remote cameras at El Aribabi Conservation Ranch in Sonora, Mexico have recorded multiple Ocelots and at least one Jaguar in addition to Bobcats and Mountain Lions. The bigger felines can no longer travel freely where the border fence has been completed, but I’m glad there’s room for the Ocelot to slip through.

-Sheri Williamson

What I’m looking forward to this spring…

On my two acre wooded lot in Woodstock, Vermont, the spring time treats me to three of my favorite wildflowers – Purple Trillium, Jack-in-the-Pulpit, and Wild Columbine.  The Wild Columbine is distinct from the Red Columbine of the west and prefers rocky, wooded, or open slopes and parts of my woods is perfect habitat.  Jack-in-the Pulpit prefers damp woods and grows in two spots.  Purple Trillium has a special place in my heart.  My dad transplanted several plants from the Adirondack Mountains in our backyard and they bloomed every spring for as long as my parents lived in the house (over 50 years) and I imagine that they are still blooming 20 years later in memory of my parents and brother.  I also love the regional names we have for this flower in the northeast, Wakerobin and Stinking-Benjamin.  I wonder who Benjamin was and why he was honored, having his name associated with this lovely wildflower. (Or was it his smell.)

Purple Trillium © Charlie Rattigan

Jack-in-the-Pulpit © Charlie Rattigan

Wild Columbine © Charlie Rattigan

]]> http://blog.audubonguides.com/2013/05/06/spring-wildflowers/feed/ 0 http://blog.audubonguides.com/2013/05/01/photo-essay-brown-pelicans/ http://blog.audubonguides.com/2013/05/01/photo-essay-brown-pelicans/#comments Wed, 01 May 2013 12:45:46 +0000 NatureShare http://audubonguides.usmblogs.com/?p=7226 Photo Essay: Brown Pelicans by Charlie Rattigan

Boca Grande, Florida Gasparilla Island  (26.738520 , -82.264413)

Just after sunrise on April 10, 2013 nearly 100 Brown Pelicans, Laughing Gulls, and Common Terns began a feeding frenzy several meters off shore from the Gulf beach just south of Gasparilla Island State Park.  Of the many pelicans feeding, it was not unusual to see as many as five or six birds rise up and dive in quick succession.  The activity lasted well over an hour and was repeated the next day.  The weather was bright and sunny and the wind out of the east and calm.  It was only these mornings that I saw this behavior and suspect that when the wind shifted to a southwesterly direction the fish moved way from the shore.

Divining Brown Pelicans © Charlie Rattigan

Brown Pelicans © Charlie Rattigan

Brown Pelicans knifing into the water © Charlie Rattigan

Brown Pelicans © Charlie Rattigan

Brown Pelicans © Charlie Rattigan

Brown Pelican takes off © Charlie Rattigan

Brown Pelicans preparing to dive © Charlie Rattigan

]]> http://blog.audubonguides.com/2013/05/01/photo-essay-brown-pelicans/feed/ 0 http://blog.audubonguides.com/2013/04/25/throw-back-thursday-happy-birthday-john-james-audubon/ http://blog.audubonguides.com/2013/04/25/throw-back-thursday-happy-birthday-john-james-audubon/#comments Thu, 25 Apr 2013 11:58:32 +0000 Drew Weber http://audubonguides.usmblogs.com/?p=7234 To celebrate John James Audubon’s 228th Birthday on April 26th download all Audubon Single Subject Apps for only $0.99! Available for iPhone, iPad, iPod touch, Android, KindleFire & NOOK.  (Sale runs 4/25/13-4/29/13)

Bluebirds © John James Audubon

Today birders and naturalists around the world are celebrating the 228th (this year) birthday of John James Audubon, the French-American naturalist and artist.

An iconic figure in ornithology, Audubon revolutionized the practice of field identification, created fantastical yet realistic works of art, and worked hard to follow his passion of illustrating birds. Indeed, his name is emblazoned across the top of this page – now the figurehead of an organization synonymous with birds and conservation.

California Quail © John James Audubon

Here are some brief – and perhaps less-known – facts about Audubon:
1. Audubon was born in Haiti, raised in France, and moved to Pennsylvania at age 18 to avoid conscription to Napolean’s army.
2. After moving from southeastern Pennsylvania to Kentucky (with his wife Lucy), Audubon was briefly thrown in jail due to bankruptcy from a failed business venture.
3. Besides the familiar collection of his paintings, Birds of North America, Audubon released Ornithological Biographies (life histories of various bird species) and Viviparous Quadrupeds of North America (a compilation of illustrations and text, started by Audubon and completed by his sons after his death).

His paintings, though, are what define him for modern birders. The birds’ unique poses – that attempted to bring some life and nobility to the dead specimens he often used as guides – invoke the extraordinary from the common.

Brown Pelican © John James Audubon

It is interesting to reflect back on the days before high-quality optics were widely available for the study of birds. It was acceptable- actually the norm back then- to go out and “collect” specimens, a euphemism for killing birds to study. Studying these lifeless forms formed the basis for his artwork, and it is actually quite amazing that he was able to incorporate such life and action into his paintings. I can only imagine what his artwork would have looked like if he had been able study live birds in equal detail. Would his paintings have become as iconic?

So let’s celebrate the artist, his legacy, and the organization that bears his name. Happy 228th birthday to John James Audubon!

Great Blue Heron, adult © Arthur Morris/VIREO

Great Blue Herons are Back in Manitoba by Gene Walz

Those birds brave or foolish enough to return to Manitoba this week shine in the sky as if they are lit from within. And lit with a 500 watt bulb.

The snow has not melted here yet. Still a 2-foot mattress of white in many places. The sun reflecting off the snow turns raptors and geese into shining bird-ghosts, their white undersides brighter than bright.

Even birds that don’t have white undersides look white. A Great Blue Heron flew over me, and it shone so brightly that for a second I thought it might be a white morph (Great White Heron) or an intermediate (Wurdeman’s). A closer look revealed its silvery blue feathers shining like a brand new quarter.

Great Blue Heron, adult white morph (Great White Heron) © Adrian & Jane Binns/VIREO

Great Blue Herons look so relaxed, so laid-back when they fly. The wings beat slowly and steadily. The long neck coils back on itself in a kind of lazy slouch. Not determinedly stretched out straight in front like cranes or geese.

I have no idea how this intrepid heron is going to find food. The rivers are still frozen two feet thick. (Ice-out usually occurs on April 1.) Marshes and streams  may not thaw for a month. It’ll be a while before the fish and frogs and slugs and bugs that suit a heron’s palate will make an appearance.

Great Blue Heron © Arthur Morris/VIREO

Once the ice melts and the heron’s food supply make an appearance, this bird stalks its prey with the proverbial patience of Job. It stiffens into a feathered statue, its bill and long neck poised like a javelin. Then it springs!

But that’s for later. If a heron were to try that now, it would shatter its bill into splinters and end up with a very sore neck. I hope it’s got a good reserve of fat from its warmer wintering ground. It’s still winter up here.

Rough-legged Hawk by Lisa Densmore

Location: Lima, Montana

If you’re wondering where Lima (pronounced LI-ma, like the bean), Montana is, you are not geographically challenged. With due respect to the residents of this small ranching community in the southwestern part of the Treasure State, the only reason Lima entered my life was because we passed through it on the way home after a weekend in Idaho. I’m not apt to forget it. It took a long time to travel through Lima, not due to traffic – we might have seen two cars in two hours on the open road on which we traveled – but because we saw so many Rough-legged Hawks (Buteo lagopus).

Rough-legged Hawk by Lisa Densmore

They perched everywhere, on the irrigation pipes, on the tops of electrical poles, on fence posts… In this hawk-rich environment, I gained a new appreciation for this rodent-eating raptor, which is on the large side for a buteos, averaging 19 to 24 inches tall. With so many of the species in one place, I realized how much variation there could be from one to another. The typical Rough-legged Hawk has a dark belly, though it may be blotchy. A black patch normally shades the carpal joint where the wing bends, but not always or it might be very small. The wings have lots of white on the underside, and its white tail has a black band near its end, but the black morph has a mostly dark tail. ID-ing a Rough-legged Hawk can be challenging if you don’t already know the bird. It’s more diverse than Grand Central Station during rush hour. Fortunately, it lives in a less populated environment than mid-town Manhattan, making it easy to spot.

I enjoyed seeing its color variations. The phenomenon is not unique to Rough-legged Hawks. While each avian on my Audubon Birds app has a common look, variations occur. Have you seen birds-of-a-color that really are not?

I awoke Monday morning before the sun had risen and before the light could burn off the fog of a dream that would remain with me even until today. It wasn’t one of those dreams where you’re about to die but wake up just in time.  In this dream, I was informed I was dead, how I died and how the world had proceeded in my absence. It was upsetting to say the least.

As I headed for my commute across the Everglades I decided to cheer myself up by navigating towards one of my favorite places in the vast wilderness of South Florida. At the southern tip of the peninsula, at the southernmost frontier of the continental United States is a little place called Flamingo in Everglades National Park. The park has three main entrances: the Gulf Coast Visitor Center in Everglades City, Shark Valley Visitor Center in the heart of the Everglades and the Ernest P. Coe Visitor Center just west of Florida City. From Ernest P. Coe (named for the spiritual father of the ENP), a 38-mile road winds its way through pine rocklands and sawgrass prairies, ever-so-slightly sloping into the mangroves and out to Florida Bay.

Out here the cell service grasps for devices just out of reach. Out here I am one of a handful of humans in a four million acre wilderness. I am content.

I am treated to the site of Anhingas feeding white-feathered chicks, camouflaged by the fecal-stained, white-washed tree islands and guarded by alligators basking in the last of the dry season watering holes. As I make my way south, the road sweeps back and forth through dwarf cypress prairies, like a school of mullet chased by dolphin. Crows hop away from bits of carrion pulverized by passing cars.

I stop for a moment to take advantage of one of several spur trails. A crow hops over and is joined by a second. I retrieve my camera for the walk and suddenly there are four crows watching me, speaking to me with a nasally “gonk”. I photograph them and wonder to myself how many crows make up a murder.

Crows © Jungle Pete

After my walk I head south once again on what seems like an endless road. Crow after crow hops to the side of the road as I drive along. And then one doesn’t. One crow maintains its position just on my side of the yellow line, watching me approach, looking as if it’s timing its move. It doesn’t, I slow dramatically and finally the bird takes flight. A light thud grazes the upper windshield and black feathers puff like a dandelion in the wind. I circle back, park and dart for the bird lying on its back on the side of the road. I get only a few feet from the car before I am mobbed by seven crows. I retrieve a hat for my protection and on my second attempt to check on the injured bird the crows are huddled like football players around their fallen mate. When a Turkey Vultures glides over the tree line and towards the injured crow the distracted mob of crows takes off and drives the carrion eater away, enabling me access to the bird. As I return to my car with crow in hand, the mob returns with more birds, perched above me, making a ruckus unlike I’ve heard from birds before. They are yelling and they are not happy.

Was the bird just stunned? Does she have internal injuries? (For some reason I sense she’s a female). Can I get her to an animal rehabilitator? Will they care for a crow as much as I do now? As I head to Flamingo the mob of crows follows me for a distance and seems to gather members as they go. I stop. They stop. I go. They go. It’s unsettling. The crow under my shirt on the passenger seat makes a soft “gagonk” and an “awww”. I peak under to see if she is ready to fly. She’s struggling and with one last “caw” she goes limp.

Crows © Jungle Pete

There are many cultures that believe that crows are messengers from the spiritual world. Any spiritual connection I have is with the natural world so it’s difficult for me to untether this moment from my unnerving dream. Was this a message and what did it mean? Is it possible that the intelligent crow that normally moves out of harm’s way made a mistake as I had? In the end I find myself struggling to find the meaning in death and in this case one that I caused. And now I can’t help noticing crows wherever I go.

Want to take a tour of the Everglades with Jungle Pete?  Visit his website for more information: www.ecosafari.com

Nene © Arthur Morris/VIREO

The Birds of Hawaii by Gene Walz

Hawaii is not the place to go if you’re intent on adding to your Life-Bird list. There just aren’t that many unique native birds left on the islands.

Since “civilization” reached Hawaii about 200 years ago, over 30 native bird species have gone extinct.  Recent evidence seems to suggest that more species were killed off by the original islanders; bird plumage played a huge role in their costumes and decoration.

When I was in Maui in January, I did see about three dozen species of birds. But most of them I could have or had seen elsewhere. Cardinals, skylarks, mannikins, white-eyes, the usual Euro-trash, some common shorebirds and waterbirds from the Americas, and others.

There was even a colony of Peach-faced Lovebirds thriving in south Kihei – so new that they aren’t yet in the bird guides for the island.

I take delight in finding and identifying all kinds of birds. But it’s actually disheartening to see non-tropical birds on tropical islands. Especially if they are contributing to the demise of the native birds, the endemics.

One of the last places to see Maui endemics is in Hosmer’s Grove, a canyon near the top of the extinct volcano Haleakala on the east side of the island.

I went there twice and managed to get long, satisfying views of the Apapane, Amakihi, Alauahio, I’iwi — all bright, active, wonderful bird finds. But I missed the Maui Parrotbill and Crested Honeycreeper, two high-priority target-birds that are rapidly disappearing on the island. A huge disappointment.

Nearby I found several NeNe (Hawaiian Goose), and in the shallows at Kealia Ponds I easily spotted Hawaiian Coots, Hawaiian Ducks, and many Hawaiian Stilts.

I went to Maui for the whale-watching, the seafood and fresh fruit, the beaches, and the warmth. It would have been great had I been able to tick all the bird species I targeted. I guess I’ll have to go back. Damn!

Collard Peccary © G. C. Kelley

Javelinas by Gene Walz

Big Bend National Park is a magnificent place – a desert full of mountains of every size, shape and color. If it were closer to civilization, it would be much more popular. But you have to drive through the rest of Texas to reach it. Not many people want to. So, it’s one of the least frequented of the national parks.

That’s great! The fewer the people, the more natural the experience.

I went camping there with my dog Buddy in February without knowing a single thing about the place. Buddy and I both wished we’d done some preliminary research.

For instance: it gets bloody cold in the west Texas desert! Usually around freezing or below at night (once it went down to 14 Fahrenheit), and “the wild Texas winds” that Marty Robbins sang about can make it feel colder.

For instance number two: the west Texas desert is full of too many spiky, thorny, prickly things that stick in a dog’s paws and fur. That makes it a bad place for dogs. I had to inspect and groom Buddy daily; invariably prickly things came off of him and stuck to me.

Also: several wild things that like to mess with dogs. We kept seeing notices about mountain lions, bears and javelinas. The signs warned that dogs must be kept on short leashes and never left alone because of them. That made it tough on both of us.

We never did see bears or mountain lions. (We heard wolves and coyotes.) But javelinas were our constant companions.

Javelinas (aka, Collared Peccary – Pecari tajacu) don’t look particularly dangerous.

They’re less than two feet tall and look like black, furry pigs with skinny legs and big heads. I heard a dunderhead call them “cute” and approach them for a photo. Bad idea! They have sharp tusks and bad tempers. They can gore and gut a dog in seconds. Probably a tourist too.

Collard Peccary hoof prints © NatureShare

In Big Bend, Texas and nearby they are habituated to tourists. They hang around campsites and slake their thirsts in easily accessible areas of the Rio Grande (actually Rio Puny!).

Another example of wild things adapting. They hardly seem wild!

Red-tailed Hawk © Josh Haas / Glances at Nature

I’m betting the last time you saw a Red-tailed Hawk, you didn’t give the bird a second look. When birding and creating lists for the day, there are species that tend to get boring. As one of the most prevalent hawks in North America, the Red-tailed Hawk fits this category for many birders. But I’ve found the bird is worth a closer look.

Red-tailed Hawk – midwest © Crossley ID Guide: Raptors

This raptor is a dynamic hunter that tends to go after small mammals, amphibians, reptiles and more. It’s opportunistic nature is one reason the bird is so pervasive and, hence, boring to birders. One type of prey missing from the list is small perching birds. And while it’s true they’re not necessarily built for hunting this type of prey, once while hawk watching at the Whitefish Point Bird Observatory I saw an individual display the power and versatility needed for the task. Flying at tree-top level with a strong steady wing-flap, the bird suddenly fanned its tail in such a way so as to flip sideways and nab an unsuspecting Northern Flicker off a dead tree. My binoculars came down, a smile came over my face, and for me the Red-tailed Hawk became a little more exciting. More recently, during a Detroit River Hawkwatch count, I saw a beautiful Northern Harrier circling above the count site when a Red-tailed Hawk unexpectedly stooped into view in pursuit of the Harrier. Enthusiasm soared among the onlookers as the Red-tailed Hawk continued after the Harrier. The aerial battle demonstrated to all who had seen it that this large-bodied Buteo could not only keep up with other agile raptors but maneuver like a Merlin as it dipped and raced around the skies. Yet another experience where for me, the Red-tailed Hawk became a little more exciting.

Red-tailed Hawk Range Map © NatureShare

These are just two quick examples of how the Red-tailed Hawk is more than a modest soaring bird living around our highway systems. The large hawk is nothing short of amazing. With its large powerful feet, snappy wing flap, and keen hunting techniques, this adaptable bird can adjust easily to many habitats and situations. My hope is the next time you find yourself viewing a Red-tailed Hawk through your binocs, you’ll linger a bit longer. It might just do something for which the bird becomes a little more exciting.

Red-tailed Hawk © Dave Haas / Glances at Nature

To see more of Josh’s work, get tips on photography, or to sign up for workshops and trips please visit www.glancesatnature.com.

The Crossley ID Guide: Raptors by Richard Crossley, Jerry Liguori, and Brian Sullivan will be available April 2013.  The book covers thirty-four of North America’s diurnal raptor species (all species except owls), 101 stunning color plates–including thirty-five double-page layouts, species information and more!  Be sure to enter to win the ultimate Crossley ID Guide Sweepstakes to win some cool prizes including the Audubon Birds app!

Horned Lark adult male, Eastern © Arthur Morris/VIREO

Getting Ready for Spring: Horned Larks by Gene Walz

A winter tradition here in Manitoba that I missed this year usually involves jumping in the car on a clear, snow-free day in early February (on or near an accompanying friend’s birthday) and heading out to find Horned Larks. I spent this winter in a warmer, mostly snow-free zone. So the larks weren’t the first returning birds of the year for me. Bald Eagles beat them.

Horned Lark adult male, Northern © Glenn Bartley/VIREO

I’ve never considered Horned Larks the true harbingers of spring. They don’t qualify because every year I hear reports of Horned Larks that over-winter here. And the migrating larks usually come back to Manitoba far ahead of the official arrival of spring on March 21, and well before the snow melts (the actual arrival of spring sometime in April). But I like to celebrate their hardy appearance.

Horned Lark adult male, Interior West © Rob Curtis/VIREO

Any bird that sticks around from November to March or comes back here in the dead of winter has got to be special, deserves a salute, a toot of the horn, especially a bird so delicate.

Twenty-one subspecies of the Horned Lark can be found in North America (another 19 around the world). Subspecies associated with Manitoba, the Canadian Prairies, and the Great Plains include Eremophila.aalpestris enthymia, E.a. leucolaema, and E.a. praticola.

Dusty brownish-grey above and white below, they are best distinguished by the black, yellow and white markings on their heads and necks (black “horns” aren’t often visible) and their white outer tail-feathers.

Horned Lark adult male, Interior West © Greg Lasley/VIREO

They prefer open areas with short, sparse vegetation — croplands, fencerows, road rights-of-way, pastures, and recently cut hayfields. The gravel mile-roads in farm country southwest of Winnipeg are the best place to find them.  They flit along the road edges, folding their wings after each beat and never flying very high or far from the car.

Because they are grassland birds, their numbers are diminishing. I’d hate to see them disappear completely. They cheer me up considerably in February when I usually need it most.

Horned Lark adult, Pacific © Alan David Walther/VIREO

As I related in my last post on ducks, the winter months can appear to be a slow period for birding. However, in addition to ducks, there is another group of birds that is more diverse and easy to observe in the winter compared to the summer: the sparrows.

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.

Sedona Nightscape, Trails of Light

Sedona Nightscape:

This very special image took hundreds of miles in travel, days of scouting, hours throughout the night shooting, and hours of post-processing. This makes it an ‘earned’ image in my book. It’s a classic long exposure but instead of just leaving the shutter open for 30 minutes, I created this using multiple stacked exposures instead. This was because the town of Sedona was close enough that in a super long exposure, the light pollution would’ve ruined the image. The first shot was taken about 45 minutes after sunset when there was still enough ambient light to illuminate the rocky ridge in the foreground. After that, I had to leave my gear in place and wait a couple hours until it was dark enough to begin taking the 30 second exposures one after another. I did this for another 90 minutes until I was sure I had a sizable group of images without plane lights and other problems to create a nice star trail image. Finally, the shooting was complete. On the plane ride home at an altitude of 30,000 feet, several interested people on the flight watched as the final image was created. A night image was my goal weeks before heading to Arizona for this trip and I’m excited to say we made it happen.

Camera Body & Lens- Canon 1D Mark III, 24-70mm f2.8 lens

Aperture- f2.8

Shutter Speed- Multiple 30sec exposures, stacked

ISO- 250

Lightning with a Purple Hue

Lightning with a Purple Hue:

After years of waiting for the perfect storm to photograph, it was finally here. The storm has to be just right to make lightning photography work and this one was perfect. Using an intervalometer, I set up underneath my deck and began shooting. After setting my exposure settings, focus and composition the intervalometer took over to kick off the exposures one after another while I retreated inside where it was safe. This was a great compromise that made my wife happy. =) Safety has to be number one in storm photography and this device sure makes it safe. While inside, I waited until the rain was close enough that it would compromise any good images and then retrieved my gear. After loading the 100+ images, I had one that turned out great (and this one is it!) The purple sky, tree line and lighting all work together to make this a nice image.

Camera Body & Lens- Canon Rebel T2i, Tamron 28-75mm f2.8 lens

Aperture- f6.3

Shutter Speed- 20sec

ISO- 100

Lake Superior Lightning

Lake Superior Lightning:

A more recent image, this was taken on the south shores of Lake Superior in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. After a day of shooting waterfalls the lighting was drab that evening so I figured my shooting was done for the day. It was about that time I began to hear distant thunder and decided to make the trek out to the beach to see what was happening. As a distant storm approached I set up and waited. The evening light dwindled and the storm approached; a hole in the clouds opened up at the perfect time show-casing an orange sky lit by the fading sun. The lighting popped and all I needed was a rock star of a lightning bolt to finish off the scape. Just before the rain began my wishes paid off and I got my lightning. To create this image I set my aperture, ISO and then used 6 second exposures over and over until the right lightning appeared in the sky (notice my stopped down aperture of f13 to keep too much light from hitting the sensor). As the sky becomes darker, this technique gets easier as you can use longer exposures but because I was shooting before dark, I had to stop down my aperture and could only use 6 second exposures without blowing out the images.

Camera Body & Lens- Canon 5D Mark II, Canon 24-70mm f2.8 lens

Aperture- f13

Shutter Speed- 6sec

ISO- 200

Star-filled Night with Space Station

Star-filled Night with Space Station:

This image is the result of a family member contacting me about some action I might be interested in. The International Space Station was set to pass by our night sky that night. At the time, I was still living in the city where light pollution would ruin the image so I grabbed my gear and headed out in the country in search of a spot. I ended up on a golf course and struggled to find a decent spot with enough time to get set up in time. I was able to make it work and record the image with the International Space Station streaking across the sky. For all of you photographers out there, it pays to spread the word and build a base of people that can give you tips on where possible action may be. I’ve captured several images this way and had I not been tipped off, the images would not exist today.

Camera Body & Lens- Canon 1D Mark II, Tamron 28-75mm f2.8 lens

Aperture- f2.8

Shutter Speed- 30sec

ISO- 100

To see more of Josh’s work, get tips on photography, or to sign up for workshops and trips please visit www.glancesatnature.com.

www.NatureShare.com

While in Lafayette, IN for what would be our last Christmas gathering, I awoke well before sunrise to the sound of a baby playing in her crib.  Being up early has its advantages and like many mornings, I jumped on my iPhone for things like the daily weather, news, and of course a gander through the Audubon Field Guide to North American Birds app.  Using the “Find Birds with eBird” feature, I scanned the list and one bird jumped out very quickly.  A Varied Thrush had been seen the day prior no more than 12 miles from where I was staying.  This bird should be in California, let alone Indiana so it was worth the effort.  If you haven’t checked out this great feature in the app, it’s worth your time.  It’s quick and much better than some of the other apps that feature eBird searching.

Cooper’s Hawk, Adult © Josh Haas

Unfortunately, after two morning attempts for this western thrush, I never did see it but I did get a nice opportunity with an adult Cooper’s Hawk before meeting a nice birder who mentioned having Saw-whet Owls roosting on his property.  That obviously perked some interest!  I jumped at the invitation and soon found myself riding in a gator across his property 6 miles away after a different bird.  Boy it would’ve paid to be prepared for the 12 degree temps but who would’ve known a family Christmas could turn into a birding adventure.  I suppose in our family, it’s very likely!

Sure enough, as we approached a small Cedar grove, we slowed and eventually stopped.  Looking into the woods, one can’t help but notice the many yellow ribbons hanging on trees marking where birds were or are roosting.  The gentleman does surveys daily to gather data about the individuals.   Amazing commitment…

Northern Saw-whet Owl © Josh Haas

All in all, he showed me three individual Saw-whet Owls.  One was even awake and willing to be photographed.  Oh man was I one happy Daddy!  This property was amazing and he told stories of the many species of Owls, Raptors and Passerines that fledged over the years from the 200 acre parcel.  This is another example of a great find and a genuine birder willing to share his great spot.

To see more of Josh’s work, get tips on photography, or to sign up for workshops and trips please visit www.glancesatnature.com.

Birding by Bike © Josh Haas

For 2013 I’ve decided to blend my passion of birding and cycling into a one-year event.  Some of you may know what a Big Year is (seeing as many bird species in a calendar year, within specified boundaries) but I’m taking it one step further.  I’m doing a BIg Green Big Year (BIGBY).  My boundaries are anywhere within Barry County, MI and my goal will be to see as many bird species as possible by bike.  My ride of choice is shown below.

Josh with his BIGBY Bike © Glances at Nature

This cyclocross bike is perfect for the job with slightly wider/knobby tires for back roads.  While perfect on gravel, it still has a road feel for when I need to cover some serious mileage quickly, while on pavement.  I’ve outfitted the bike with lights for night riding after nocturnals, a rack for carrying my scope and a unique bag on the front to carry my binocs for quick use.  I do want to say a big thanks to our favorite optics folks at Eagle Optics who helped me choose an inexpensive binoc for this rough-road journey and also a big thanks to Mike at Team Active Cycling and Fitness for yet another great bike!

My plan the first couple months is to concentrate on winter species until the ice thaws and the first spring migrants begin showing up.  As spring thrusts upon us, longer rides will ensue and I will be after the mass of migrants moving through.  Barry County breeders will be the focus in summer, fall will bring another mad dash for any missed migrants and the last couple months of 2013 will be dedicated to any winter species still missing.

Red-headed Woodpecker & Trumpeter Swan © Josh Haas

We’re through the first month of 2013 and I’ve accomplished six rides thus far with a total of 42 species and 95 miles ridden.. The first ride brought species such as Snow Bunting, Bald Eagle, and Horned Lark. The second ride yielded a Red-headed Woodpecker, a few late ducks and an Eastern Meadowlark still lingering. The third ride was short but I was able to snag a Wild Turkey. During my fourth ride, I was able to track down Trumpeter Swans and a Rough-legged Hawk. While my fifth and sixth rides didn’t yield many, important species such as Red-breasted Nuthatch and Red-shouldered Hawk were added to the list.  These are just the highlights of each ride.  There are still winter specialties to get so stay tuned!  Please visit http://www.glancesatnature.com/blog to see the latest tally and full list all year long.

To see more of Josh’s work, get tips on photography, or to sign up for workshops and trips please visit www.glancesatnature.com.

Snowfall in Vermont 12/27/12

Anyone who has looked closely at a snowflake under a magnifying glass, or even with their naked eye, has an appreciation for the intricacy and delicacy of these frozen ice crystals that descend from the sky.  Exactly how do they form and why do they assume the shapes that they do?

Snowflake © Kenneth G. Libbrecht

According to physicist Kenneth Lebbrecht, in his book The Snowflake: Winter’s Secret Beauty, snowflakes and snow crystals are made of ice. As its name implies, a snow crystal consists of a single crystal of ice.  Snowflake is a general term that includes all shapes and combinations of snow crystals.  A snowflake can be a single snow crystal, or a conglomerate of crystals.

A snow crystal is not a frozen raindrop.  When raindrops freeze, they are referred to as sleet; the individual particles of ice lack the intricate patterns of snowflakes.  Rather, snow crystals form when water vapor in the clouds condenses directly into ice. As more vapor condenses, the ice crystal grows and develops, creating elaborate patterns.

Snowflake © Kenneth G. Libbrecht

There is a sequence of events in the formation of a snow crystal.  Evaporation from the ocean, lakes and streams, as well as the transpiration of plants and the expiration of animals puts a large amount of water vapor into the air.  When a mass of air cools, the water vapor it contains condenses out of it.  In summer, when this occurs next to the ground, we refer to the condensed water droplets as dew. When the air high above the ground is cooled, the water vapor condenses onto particles of dust, forming clouds full of water droplets.  In winter, the individual water droplets start to freeze around 14 degrees Fahrenheit. They don’t all freeze at once; gradually the water droplets surrounding the particles of ice evaporate into water vapor which then condenses onto the ice crystals, growing snow crystals.

Snowflake © Kenneth G. Libbrecht

Many snow crystals begin as hexagonal prisms – flakes with smooth facets, or sides, arranged in a hexagonal shape.  “Branches” then sprout at each of the six corners of this hexagonal crystal and as the surrounding water vapor condenses on them, they grow. Because the entire crystal passes through the same climatic conditions, the branches tend to grow in a similar pattern at a similar rate, creating the six-pointed star-shaped crystal, or stellar dendrite, that we are familiar with.  Many shapes, including columns, plates and needles, are formed.  Humidity, and particularly, temperature, affects the pattern of growth.  Snow crystals tend to form simpler shapes when the humidity is low, and more complex shapes at higher humidities. Even so, the majority of snowflakes are not symmetrical.  Within a given cloud, different snowflakes are blown in different directions, encountering different temperatures, which results in slightly different shapes.  Thus, no two snowflakes are identical.

Snowfall © Mary Holland