Snow Buntings
For the first time in several weeks the weatherman predicted that we would actually get a day of sunshine. During a northland winter the sun makes few precious appearances. So with that in mind I gave some serious thought as to what my photographic plans would be for the sunny day. As a wildlife photographer the sun is good for some species and bad for others. I knew exactly what I wanted to photograph with the available sunshine—Snow buntings (Plectrophenax nivalis). The following morning I woke before dawn and drove 2 hours north of my house where the week before I had seen a small flock of Snow Buntings. Upon my arrival I was happy to see the buntings were still there. I quickly put on my wind pants and extra jacket, hat and heavy duty gloves in preparation for spending the next 5 hours sitting outside in single digit temperatures. Thankfully the wind was not an issue. Next I set up my blind and assembled my camera. I was happy to see that within 30 minutes the buntings seemed to totally ignore my blind and landed within 30 feet of my blind. The problem is, as it is with many flock birds, the moment one bird becomes nervous and flies the entire flock takes flight. Which means the birds would spend 15 to 30 seconds on the ground before blasting off, swirling around and coming back for another visit. While sitting in my blind waiting for the birds to come back I started thinking about the Snow Bunting and what an amazing little bird they are. They are only 6 or so inches long, about the size of a sparrow, with long broad wings that measure about 13 inches long–larger in proportion to their bodies than most birds. Snow Buntings are closely related to sparrows and can be found in northern regions around the world (circumpolar). Their genus name Plectrophenax comes from the Greek “plektron” meaning a claw-like tool used to play a sting instrument and refers to the long straight hind claw on the foot, and “phenax” meaning false, referring to only appear similar to a plektron. The species name nivalis is Latin for snowy, which describes this mostly white bird. The Snow Bunting spends its summers on breeding grounds in the Arctic north of the 66 degree North latitude. They occur from the Aleutian Island chain, across the Arctic of North America, Greenland, Iceland, Svalbard, Scotland, northern Scandinavia and the Siberian Arctic and several islands in the Bering Sea. It is fair to say this is the furthest north nesting song bird in the world. Some say it’s the furthest north nesting bird of any kind. They nest in areas without trees and where the ground never thaws and snow is a year round occurrence. That is one tough bird. They construct a cup nest on the ground, often amongst rocks for added protection from wind and predators. The nest is lined with feathers and fur in which they lay four to six eggs. It is so cold, even in spring, that once the female starts to incubate she has to stay on the eggs 24 hours a day or the eggs will freeze and die. The male feeds the female while she sits on the nest. Between incubating and fledging of the young birds, it takes a total of 23-25 days. At the end of the breeding season flocks of birds leave their homes in the Arctic and disperse to southern Canada and the northern tier states, which is where I am photographing these birds. They feed on the ground scratching for seeds. They love to bathe in the snow and will burrow into the snow to keep warm in very cold conditions. I see many truly beautiful sights in my travels and while photographing wildlife. I speculate that I get to see more sunrises and sunsets than most people. I would rate the sight of a flock of Snow Buntings twisting and turning in flight against a deep blue winter sky as one of my favorites. Their stark black and white plumage and exceedingly long wings makes them look like snow flakes blowing and tumbling in the cold winter winds. It is simply a sight that you will never get tired of seeing. Until next time…
House Finches
Sometimes I think there is something seriously wrong with me. This goes beyond my normal nature inflicted maladies. For example, whenever I travel somewhere I notice something different about incredibly common things. For example, I am writing this column while I am in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, the gateway to the Great Smoky Mountains. I am here to speak at a wildlife conference and of course take a couple of days to slip away and do some photography. On one of my days away from the conference I was set up to photograph some Bluebirds when a male House Finch landed in front of me. About a millisecond after I started photographing the House Finch I noticed how different it looks from the House Finches in my home state of Minnesota. His red plumage was more pronounced and his black streaking was more defined. Also its brown cap was not as well defined as I would expect it to be. I would say that over all it looks brighter than the finches in the upper Midwest but not as red as the male House Finches I see in Arizona. I spend a lot of time in the southwest and see lots of House Finches and I can tell you the males are very bright red. I made several mental notes of the bird’s appearances and as soon as I could, I started to do a little research into the differences I was seeing in the House Finch. Low and behold there is a documented difference. Here is what I found. But first, let’s look at the little history of this oh so common bird. Originally the House Finch was found only in the southwestern states and Mexico. In the early 1900’s, thousands of these birds were captured and sold all over the eastern half of the country under the name of Hollywood Finches. In the 1940’s enforcement of songbird regulations were increased and bird owners and dealers all over the country released their birds into the wild to avoid prosecution. These newly released birds found each other and started to reproduce. By the 1960’s and 70’s they had colonized most of the eastern half of the country and by the 1980’s and 90’s had started to reach the northern states. Backyard bird feeders all over the eastern half of the country were suddenly hosting dozens of these colorful birds and they were quickly on their way to becoming the most numerous bird that visits birdfeeders. They adapted extremely well to their new eastern homeland and their ability to reproduce rapidly was amazing with young birds reproducing the first spring after they are born and, on average, nesting three times each season. Like a wave the House Finch swept across the eastern and central part of the country meeting up with their natural range relatives in the west in just 30-40 years. Along with the massive range change came a morphological change. House Finch males in the east have become more grayish brown and dusky red. Birds in the northern states were even less red and often showing just a tinge of red. In addition to the color change, House Finches in the east and north have shorter wings and tails, along with larger bills and significantly shorter legs and toes than their western relatives. It is thought that the body size and shape changes came from adapting to feeding at bird feeders. There are more people with backyard feeding stations in the eastern half of the country and increased feeding opportunities has lead to the changes in the body size and shape. They have shorter wings and tails because they don’t need to fly as far and the larger bill is to cope with black oil sunflower seeds which is the most commonly offered foods in most feeders. Or so the theory goes. So to summarize. The House Finch males in the southwest have the most vivid color and are larger with the eastern birds being duller and smaller while the northern birds have least amount of color of them all.
Rule Benders
Continuing with our theme of rule breakers in nature, I would like to take a look at some rule benders not breakers this week. Science tends to look at things as black and white, static or dynamic. We try to draw hard lines between subjects or concepts in science that helps us to better compartmentalize which helps our minds organize and understand. This might work in science, however in nature this kind of thinking and organizing only goes so far before you run into one of the rule breakers or benders. The reason why it doesn’t work in nature is because nature doesn’t stay the same. It’s always changing and adapting to the changing environment. The next time you are out in nature, take a look around to see it for yourself. Trees grow changing grassy fields into woodlands, animal and bird species change and adapt to the ever changing environment. This ability to change and adapt or to explore new possibilities or niches is why nature is so successful. Which is where the rule benders come in. The American Robin (Turdus migratorius) is a classic example of a nature rule bender. The robin is one of the most conspicuous and well known species of bird in North America. And what is it known for? It is known for its migration. In fact, it is so well known for its migration that it species name migratorius means migration. Many look to the returning of the robin as the first signs of spring. So why is this bird a rule bender? Well, not all robins migrate. Each winter, in northern states where winter is alive and well such as Minnesota, (where I live) I estimate there is about 1 percent of all the robins don’t migrate. In mid continent states I would estimate only half of the robins migrate and in southern states most don’t migrate at all. In fact they are joined by the robins from up north for the winter. The other day I was out photographing in zero degree temperatures and with light snow fall when a flock of 30-40 robins flew over my head. I always like to see this kind of thing because it illustrates how nature is dynamic and not predictable. These birds were not having any troubles handling the temperatures. As long as they can find enough food to eat they will make it through the winter just fine.
Return of the Bald Eagle
I consider myself a lucky man. For more than 20 years I have been making a living at photographing wildlife, writing books and leading birding tours. I can recall many of the trips I lead in the early and mid 80’s When I was first starting to see iconic bird species such as Loons, Osprey and Bald Eagles. I would pack up a van full of eager birdwatchers, with binoculars slung around their necks, and head out with great anticipation to see if we could find some Bald Eagles. We would drive hundreds of miles searching up and down the Mississippi River in late winter looking for the large black and white birds. If the weather was right, the ice conditions on the river correct and the winds in our favor we would get to see a handful of eagles but only after an entire day worth of searching. It was such a trill for myself and the birdwatchers because it was the first time many of them saw an eagle in the wild. I’m sure you already know, the Bald Eagle was at its all time low numbers in the 1970’s. The effects of DDT took its toll on the symbol of our great nation and put the bird on the ropes, headed for extinction. In most places in the country the bird was already gone. Entire generations of people grew up never seeing this majestic bird. I was fortunate because I lived in an area (Minnesota) that still had a small population of eagles clinging to life. Now, jump forward 25 or so years and I am still leading birding trips to see the bald eagles only this time it’s not so hard to find the birds. In fact on a recent trip along the Mississippi River I counted nearly 1000 Bald Eagles in one day. The group I was with took it all in stride. We would stop and see 150 to 200 eagles soaring in the blue sky and perched in the naked trees. Seeing such large concentrations of eagles was a thrill but no one in the group was jumping up and down or doing cartwheels as we might have done 20 years ago. I didn’t even hear anyone exclaim that they got goose bumps when seeing an eagle fly majestically over-head. I took a moment to reflect upon my past experiences with the Bald Eagle. I have personally seen this species go from a species tittering on the brink of extinction to one that flourishing. From an endangered species to a common species. I saw first hand the slow but steady increase, year after year, of this great bird. Each year I would tell stories to the group about my experience from the last time I was along the river photographing or leading a trip to watch the eagles and each time it seemed less and less important to the group. Almost taking the eagles for granted. I am not sure taking the success of the Bald Eagle is a good thing or bad thing but it’s a true thing. So, I really want to say, I am not the only one who is lucky. We are all lucky to see such a great success story unfold in front of us and for me in front of my very own eyes. I feel very pleased to have had this first hand experience with one of my favorite birds. This experience lives inside of me and the thought of it makes me stop and take a moment each time I see a Bald Eagle flying across the sky or perched in a tree. I am still as thrilled to see the eagles now as I was in those lean eagle times, and yes, I still do get goose bumps from seeing an eagle fly across a blue sky. For all of this, I consider myself a very lucky man. Until next time…
Snow Goose Migration
There are many marvelous places or natural events in the world that can dazzle your eyes and entertain your mind. I am fortunate enough to travel and photograph some of these amazing events and places. Some of these marvels of nature are well known such as the migration of wildebeest on the plains of east Africa. One and a half million animals move across the African plain covering nearly 2,000 miles in search of fresh green grass each year. The gathering of the Andean Flamingos in South America is another great example of a special natural event. Tens of thousands of long legged pink birds gather in huge flocks in shallow lakes to feed. It’s certainly a pink spectacle unmatched in the world. Closer to home the Grand Canyon is a good example of a natural place. Spanning 277 miles long and up to 18 miles wide the Grand Canyon is unmatched in its grandeur and splendor. All you need to do is stand at the rim and gaze upon the canyon to know what I mean. The problem with many of these amazing natural events and places is they are often in far away places and only accessible by those with enough time and money. However there is a natural marvel that rivals the great events of Africa and South America much closer to home. It is the annual migration of the Sandhill Crane and Snow Goose in south central Nebraska. Yep, that’s right—Nebraska. I have just returned from leading a bird watching / photography trip for four days of eye popping, jaw dropping natural spender. And the best part is, I didn’t have to take malaria pills, update my health insurance or break out my passport. I have traveled to Nebraska each spring for nearly 20 years and I still get excited at witnessing this ancient event unfold before my eyes. For the past 20,000 years, nearly a half a million Sandhill Cranes and millions of Snow Geese funnel down to an 80 mile stretch of the Platte River for the first leg of their migration to nesting grounds. After spending the winter scattered in Texas, New Mexico, Arizona and Mexico, the cranes and geese start to move north in mid February. Over a 6 to 8 week period of time, millions and millions of birds bottle neck down to this special place in Nebraska where they will feed and put on enough body fat to fuel their journey to the breeding grounds in Canada and Alaska. Each evening my group of bird watchers and photographers would end up near the Platte River to watch the cranes return from feeding in the surrounding fields. Both the cranes and the geese return to the sandbars in the river just after sunset, using the water as a mote of protection from predators. We would watch from the banks of the river as thousands of cranes and geese would fill the sky, swirl around and around before finally settling down on the safety of the sandbars in the river. The orange sky in the west was a perfect backdrop to this spectacular natural event rendering the birds moving black silhouettes in the fiery sky. The accompanying sounds of this huge mass of birds all calling together added greatly to the magic of the moment. I can say in all confidence that the annual migration of the Sandhill Crane and Snow Goose is North America’s most amazing natural spectacle and is in the top 10 natural events in the world, and I am not the only one who feels this way. I recently saw a television show featuring Jane Goodall, famed primatologist and world traveler, who said she felt the migration of the Sandhill Crane and Snow Goose in Nebraska was one of the most remarkable natural spectacles on the earth and that it shouldn’t be missed. She comes to Nebraska each spring to see it for herself. I couldn’t agree more and that’s why I come back year after year. Until next time…
Rarities
Chasing down and photographing rare birds has never been my thing but lately I seem to have run into some of the most uncommon or rare birds in the entire country. During the first week of March I was leading a trip to Nebraska for the annual migration of Sandhill Cranes and Snow Geese. This is a regular trip for me and I expect to see some amazing things such as tens of thousands of cranes filling the evening sky. I might even expect to see, if I am very lucky, a Whooping Crane mixed in the thousands of Sandhill Cranes. Whooping Cranes are very uncommon birds with populations numbering only in the hundreds. However within 30 minutes of arriving in south central Nebraska, I pulled up to a large flock of cranes feeding in a corn field near the road. Immediately I noticed an unusual crane standing on the edge of the flock. Of course the first thing I did was grab my camera and ripped off a couple shots to make sure I had a record of the bird before it took off. Having never seen this kind of crane before I knew it was something special. A few seconds later the crane took off with the rest of the flock. A quick check of the first field guide gave me no clue. The bird was not in the guide. Fortunately a friend had another field guide which did include the identity. We had found a Common Crane which is a kind of crane found in Eurasia and not found in North America. Our group broke into cheers at the fact that we found such a rare bird. A few phone calls later and we found out that this bird is probably the only one of its kind in the country in the wild. Fast forward three week and I am in south Texas Rio Grand Valley where I am writing this column. This time I am working on photographing birds and animals for several new field guides for the state of Texas. While talking to some friends at a local gathering one evening I was told of a rare bird. For the past couple of weeks a White-throated Robin has been seen feeding in a mulberry tree in a town near by. So the next day I head over to see what I can find. I am traveling with 3 other professional wildlife photographers and it was an interest to all of us. Within 10 minutes of arriving in the area we locate the bird feeding on ripening mulberries but the bird stays deep within the inter part of the tree and never leaves the dark shadows. We set up our cameras and begin the waiting process. An hour passes and nothing. We can see parts of the bird, a wing here and a tail there between the branches and leaves but we can’t get a shot of the entire bird. The bird is actively feeding on the berries and doesn’t even notice us. Then all of a sudden, a bird that looks like a robin with a bright white throat, hops out into the open on a branch and the cameras start clicking in rapid fire mode. The bird remains out in the open for another few seconds before flying back into the shadowy interior part of the tree. We are thrilled. High fives all around. The white-throated Robin (Turdus assimilis) normally occurs in the mountains of Mexico. The first one ever recorded in the US was in Laguna Vista, Cameron Co. Texas on Feb 18, 1990. This bird was coming to a feeder with other birds. The second record of a White-throated Robin in the US came in February 1998, also in Texas. Then on March 18, 2008, Allen Williams, a resident of Pharr, Texas found a White-throated Robin feeding on mulberries in his rather large backyard. About a week later I was there to see and photograph this very rare bird in the US. I guess you don’t need to chase down rare birds in order to see these rarities. Sometimes being in the right place at the right time is just as good. Until next time…
The Rituals of Spring
This time of year is filled with ancient rituals. Rituals that ensure the survival of the natural world. Each spring, as it has for ten’s of thousands of years, and in some species even millions of years, birds and animals strut, sing, show off, chase, cajole, or whatever it takes to find a mate with the sole objective of reproducing. The huge diversity of bird and animal species has lead to a wide variety of ways in which the males prove to the females that they are worthy fathers and that the females are worthy mothers. All of these spring rituals are all triggered by the amount of available daylight and signals the start of the breeding season. As the world tilts on its axis and the sun slowly get higher in the sky we gain more daylight. With each passing day in spring we gain more daylight. In fact we have gained over 5 hours of daylight since the winter solstice, which is the shortest daylight of the year, back in December. The amount of daylight is called the photo-period. The photo-period is what indicates or triggers the mating response in birds and animals. In the case of the mammals they perceive the daylight through their eyes and is passed onto the brain. We humans are the same way. We feel different at this time of year because of the amount of daylight we perceive with our eyes. Birds on the other hand perceive daylight directly into their brains through their skulls. A direct signal to the brain from the outside world if you will. Once the brain has been informed of the amount of daylight, it triggers hormones to be released that flow though the animals or birds body that awakens the reproductive organs which lay dormant for most of the year. Unlike humans, most animals and birds can only mate during a brief period of time each spring. That is not true for all birds and animals but it is true for most. Once the reproductive organs are up and running, the mating rituals begin. In the bird world, the males are the ones all dressed up to impress. The males of many bird species have brightly colored feathers that are designed to do one thing—communicate to the female that he is good and strong with a abundant food supply within his territory. In addition the males augment their brightly colored feathers with songs. Bird songs are as ancient as their bird species that are singing the songs. Many songbirds have been around for hundreds of thousands of years. Songbirds are a specialized group of birds that have wonderful complex songs that usually only the male sings. There are a few species that break the rules and both the male and female sing, such as the Northern Cardinal. But in general it’s usually just the male that sings. Birds that are not songbirds such as the Wild Turkey don’t sing a song at all. They rely on visual display to show that the male is a strong healthy bird and worth mating with. He will fan out his tail feathers, droop his wings so the wingtips are dragging on the ground and puff up his iridescent body feathers to impress the gals. He even has large patches of exposed skin around his head that change color from red to blue and white. Male turkeys give a hissing and popping noise over and over as he tries to maneuver himself in front of the females in his group so they can get a good look at his magnificence. Only when the females are ready to nest will they pay him any attention and allow mating. The actual mating is brief but the courtship goes on for weeks. While he waits for her readiness, he will strut around and around so she won’t forget he is ready. Strutting male turkeys is a ritual that I look forward to seeing and photographing each spring. In my mind it’s an ancient ritual that indicates spring. I can spend hours watching the males do their thing. I get a sense of security and permanence and that all is right in nature when I see this ancient dance. For you the rituals of spring may be the singing of a male robin or the mate chasing of the Eastern Gray Squirrel in your backyard. Cottontail rabbits will also chase each other across your lawn and jump high into the air for their mating ritual. No mater what the spring ritual, remember these are important aspects to a healthy environment and it’s a ritual that ensures these birds and animals will be around for many more generations, but only when the sun climbs high into the spring sky. Until next time…
Woodcock
Dust billows up from behind my truck as I drive down the dirt road to my favorite location to see and photograph a strange little bird known as the timber doodle. Stopping on the side of the road, I step from my truck into a picture perfect late evening. The sun has just set but the western sky still glows bright orange and the sky is crystal clear. I love evenings like this. Quickly I set up my tripod, camera, and most import, my flash. I grab my flashlight and walk towards a wet field with small trees on the edge of a large stand of woods. As I walk, I flash back nearly 30 years. I was a young naturalist, wide eyed and eager to see all the natural world had to offer. I am walking into the same field, this time with the best naturalist I have even known at my side. She is showing me the display flight of the timber doodle. What the heck is a timber doodle I ask her? She responds with the bird’s real name, American Woodcock. Oh, I said, still not knowing what the heck she is talking about. Shortly after sunset, we stand in the field and wait quietly. A near by pond filled with Western Chorus Frogs is filling the night with their loud mating call. Then a loud noise breaks from the grass in front of us. It sounds like an electric buzzer. It’s the call of the American Woodcock. Every few seconds it gives another call—“peent”. Then suddenly it flies from the grass into the fading evening light. It flies up to a height of a couple hundred feet then starts to fly in a tight circle directly over our heads. I remember standing there, looking up and watching the display with my mouth open in utter wonderment. I can hear a twittering and whistling noises coming from the woodcock above my head. It flies around and around several times before suddenly it drops from the sky like a rock, landing back where it left the ground and then it starts to call again—“peent”. That was my first experience with the mating display flight of the American Woodcock. It is something I will never forget. Flash forward to present time, and I am walking with my camera into the field in the fading evening light. I have the same experience of flashing back and remembering my first experience each and every time I come to see the woodcock display flight. The American Woodcock (Scolopax minor) is a plump, short legged shorebird that isn’t found at the shore. It favorite places are damp or wet meadows. It has a large head with an extremely long bill used to probe deep into the wet soils for insects and earthworms. It has huge eyes that are placed on either side of its head giving it the ability to see in front and behind at the same time. The males perform this elaborate evening courtship flight each spring to impress the girls. Presumably the females are nearby on the ground, listening for a male with loud calls a good flight pattern. When she seen a male that is to her liking, she will approach the male on the ground. Together they will fly off a short distance to a location near by and mate. Afterwards the male returns to his dancing field and she will head back into the woods to find a place to nest which is usually at the base of a large tree. Tonight I am here to photograph the male woodcock. I work my way into the field as quietly as possible and I wait. I am enjoying the end of the day and it’s getting very dark. From just 50 feet away I hear the first call of the night. I work my way up closer just as the male takes to the sky to perform his sky dance just as he and many generations before him have done for countless years. His flight is perfect and he comes back down not 25 feet away from me and starts to call. I turn on my flashlight and spot him standing in the grass. Quickly I focus my camera and push the shutter release. The flash from my camera goes off and lights up the small woodland meadow. The male doesn’t even blink an eye, he just goes on calling. I’ve got my shot. Many years have passed since that first night and there have been very few springs where I haven’t come to witness the woodcock display flight. Now I bring my wife and daughter to this place to see the magical sky dance of the woodcock. The field is the same but it is filling in with trees. The Chorus Frogs are still calling from the small pond and the woodcock are still dancing and displaying and I am still hear to see the dance of the timber doodle. Until next time…
Rushing Grebes
My alarm goes off at 4 AM and I am up and out of bed in seconds. Minutes later I am in my truck driving north in the darkness of another beautiful spring morning. The stars are still shinning and the moon is full and setting in the western sky. As I drive north, the eastern sky starts to glow orange and red. I have a feeling of anticipation in my stomach, or was that hunger, I’m not sure. Two and a half hours later we are backing the boat into the lake. My good friend and fellow photographer Buck Huber and I are heading out on a large lake in Central Minnesota to photograph one of the most exciting courtship dances of all the North American birds—Western Grebes (Aechmophorus occidentalis). The Western Grebe is a large long-necked water bird that has a black cap and a two tone neck– black in the back and white in the front. It has a deep red eye and a long narrow yellowish green bill. They range from western Minnesota and the Dakotas as far west as Oregon and California and as far south as Colorado. But I am not here to photograph a bird sitting around in the water. No, I am here for the “rush” and the “dance”. So right about now you are thinking, what the heck is this guy taking about? The Western Grebe is a bird with a highly unusual mating ritual. About a week after the ice leaves the northern lakes, flocks of Western Grebes migrate back to lakes where they have been breeding for hundreds and in some cases thousands of years. They are colonial nesters which mean hundreds of pairs of birds all nest in the same area. In many instances their nests are only 5 to 6 feet apart. Nests are located in cattails and bulrush along lakeshores. Each nest is constructed with the dead aquatic plants from last year. Nests are a flat mat of floating vegetation that holds up to four off-white eggs in a shallow cup. These birds are monogamous and it’s unknown if they mate with the same partner each season. Now here comes the fun part. Western Grebes are well known for their many and spectacular displays. In fact they have so many displays I can’t write about them all so I will limit it to the most obvious. First is the rush. When a male and female are apart for a short period of time, usually one is off fishing, upon returning they will greet each other with several loud calls. As they swim closer together their heads get low to the surface of the water and they ratchet their heads back and for. Suddenly they both spring from the water’s surface and run across the water, with their necks extended straight up and their heads cocked at an angle so their bills are pointing upward. Their wings are head open over their backs and using their extremely large feet, they run across the waters surface, side by side for up to 20 feet before they slow down and dive head first into the water. The rush is over. After the rush, the birds resurface and only now and then, maybe only one in 50 rushes, do they follow up with one more remarkable display—the weed dance. Both birds will dive to the bottom of the lake and pick up some green plants. Resurfacing they swim together and once again rise up out of the water, stretching their necks upwards and as if they are presenting the gifts to one another. They shake and turn their heads back and forth as if to say look at what I brought you. This lasts about 20 seconds and they drop the weeds and swim off together. Wow, now that is a display. I remember as a kid in the 1960’s watching this very scene on a nature program on our black and white TV, and thinking how cool it looked and that some day I would like to see it. And now that I am watching it in person, I’m thinking it’s even better in color. I have traveled to this colony of Western Grebes 4 times over the past 2 weeks and was only really successful at capturing these amazing images on just one of the trips. All total I spent 25 to 30 hours crouched over in the boat hiding in the weeds to get these images, not including drive time, but I think it was well worth it. Until next time…
Nesting Birds
I am always impressed with birds, in particular in how successful they are as a species and their amazing diversity. I think as people we often take the birds for granted and that they are just a “normal” part of nature. Oh sure they are beautiful to look at but do we actually “look” at them? Do we spend any time sitting and watching? Do we consider how different they are or how small and fragile they are? Recently I found myself thinking about these very questions. Just yesterday at sunrise on a early summer morning. The sky was clear and blue, the sun had just come up and the winds were calm. Nothing short of a perfect morning. I was spending a few days at my cabin on a lake with my wife and daughter and had taken some time early in the morning before they got up to photograph a Yellow Warbler nest. I had slowly moved closer and closer to the nest over a 30 minute period of time so the mother Yellow Warbler would become comfortable with me. I used the trees and shrubs between us as a natural barrier to make the tiny warbler feel more safe. Slowly I got within photographic range then settled in for a while so she would get very comfortable with me before I started photographing. I sat and watched as the mother warbler move about the shrubs and trees gathering caterpillars, spiders and other insects to bring back to the nest. She would wait until she had several stuffed in her bill before returning to the nest to feed the young. Interestingly, she never left a 10 foot radius around the nest to gather the food for your newly hatched chicks. I could hear the male Yellow Warbler singing near by but he seemed to stay away most of the time. Occasionally he would show up with a big fat caterpillar and she would eagerly greet him and she would act like a baby bird herself by fluttering her wings and bowing before accept the caterpillar offering from the male. She would immediately return to the nest with the caterpillar and stand over the young in the nest as has if to say, “Look what your father brought you” and feed one of the hungry chicks. Then off she would go to look for more food. After I knew she was comfortable with me be near by and had made many trips to the nest to feed the young I started to photograph. This is an important part of wildlife photography. In order to get natural behaviors and real action shots you need to sit and watch and learn what the bird is doing and also give it time to get comfortable with you being so close before taking any pictures. Once I started taking some pictures the mother warbler didn’t even look up or react a tiny bit to my camera shutter or my flash going off. I had successfully introduced myself to this wonderful creature. Over the next couple hours I photograph the comings and goings of the mother as she feed the incredibly tiny chicks. At this stage of life these birds are no larger than a lima bean. They a sparsely covered with feathers, their eyes are sealed shut and they only have enough energy to lift their heads for a few seconds before collapsing on the floor of the nest in exhaustion. But time and time again the mother flew to the edge of the nest and three tiny heads would lift up and she would deliver her insect meal and the babies would crumble in a heap. About every third or fourth visit the mother would settle down and sit on the chicks to keep them warm. This is a process called brooding. Chicks this small don’t have the ability to regular their own body temperatures very well so the mother still needs to keep them warm. Feeling like I got several nice images, I slowly packed up my stuff and waited for a time when the mother wasn’t watching to creep away from the nest, being careful not to disturb the tiny amazing bird family. Until next time…