Dynamic Nature
If I have said it once I have said it a million times. Nature is dynamic and is always changing. Nature does not stay the same nor does it do the same thing year to year.
National Symbol
It seems appropriate that with the inauguration of our 44th president this past week that I took a short two day trip to photograph our national symbol
Irruption
This winter is shaping up as a great irruption year all across the Midwest and the Great Lakes states. This is a very exciting event for bird watchers and naturalist
Winter in Yellowstone NP
There are few places on this planet with more beauty and grandeur than Yellowstone National Park. Not only is it a spectacular place but it’s also one of the few places in North America with an intact wildlife ecosystem where all the top predators and all the animals they prey upon still occur and interact in the daily struggles of life. And the best time to witness this predator / prey relationship is in the dead of winter when the snow is deep, the temperatures are bone breaking cold and the nights are long and dark. That is why I have come to our nation’s first national park this winter. I’m very familiar with this park having been here more times than I can count during the summer but this is the first time I have visited during winter. And I am not disappointed. For the past week I have been fortunate enough to watch and photograph the daily lives of the animals that call this magnificent park home. Here is some of what has thrilled me on this winter adventure. A typical day consists of rising at 5 AM and packing up all the camera gear and extra winter clothing. I’m on the road hours before sunrise to make the drive into the Lamar valley. There is no time to eat breakfast so a cold bagel while driving is the morning breakfast routine. Most mornings the mountainous roads have a light coating of snow from the daily snow showers. Each morning as the day brightens it sheds light on the snow capped mountains that surround the valley. In the open meadows of the valley are herds of elk and bison that are bedded down in the deep snow chewing their cud. Often times the animals are covered in a coating of snow. During the daylight hours I spent hours watching the bison use their massive heads to push the deep powdery snow aside to reach the dormant grass below. It may take several powerful sweeps of the bison’s massive head to push enough snow away to reach what amounts to a tiny tuft of dried brown grass. Of course my mind races thinking about how this gargantuan animal can survive on such a meager food supply. They spend hours and hours plowing snow with its heads just to obtain a small amount of dried grass. How can dried grass be enough to sustain a 1,500 pound or more animal? It’s amazing that any of the bison can survive. And yet they seem to thrive. The elk have a different winter survival tactic. They climb up high on the mountain sides where the snow wasn’t able to accumulate. Sometimes the elk move to open areas where the winter wind has blown the snow away exposing a few stalks of the dried grass. Sure there may be food at these open locations but it’s also the most unprotected areas exposing the elk to frigid winds. The daily struggles of the bighorn sheep involve risking life and limb to scramble out onto exposed rocky outcrops that are dotted with slick patches of ice and snow just to nibble a few tufts of dried grass that clings to the rock face. This is where the bighorns find their meager rations of food. Again, I watch and photograph these animals for hours and think how difficult life is for these animals. However, I also can’t image a happier existence for these animals than one that allows them the freedom to live their lives as they are meant to live—in the wild. That thought alone keeps me warm on these cold winter days. Each day I encounter several coyote trying to eek out a living in this rugged but beautiful winter environment. These critters cover many miles each day in search of a meal. They listen for mice and other small rodents under the thick blanket of snow before pouncing. Many times their meals come in the form of hand-me-downs from the parks top predator—the gray wolf. After the wolves have killed and eaten their fill they leave the carcass for the magpies, ravens and coyotes. But it’s not the elk, bighorns, bison or coyote that I have come to photograph. It is the parks most famous residents—the gray wolf. Each night under the cover of darkness the wolves are out testing the parks residents and if they are lucky and if the packs skill at hunting is strong, the wolves will make a kill. If not they will go hungry for another day. This is where the real life and death drama takes place in the park. In March of 1995 and 96, 31 gray wolves were re-introduced into the park after over a 70 year absences. This was the final piece to complete the ecosystems puzzle. I am lucky that each day I have been able to find several members of the parks pack of wolves to observe and photograph. It’s mid February and it’s the height of the wolf breeding season. One morning a female wolf, in estrous, her gentiles stained in blood, was walking around along a snowy ridge stopping now and then to howl. Eventually she sat down and howled for 5 minutes straight before lying down and falling asleep. Several hours later she woke, stretched and continued her journey to the top of the ridge where she met up with the alpha male of her pack and they mated for the next 30 minutes. So goes the daily life of the wolves in Yellowstone. Next time I will continue my journey into Yellowstone’s complete ecosystem in winter and talk about how these wolves hunt and more importantly the struggles of the alpha male of the black-tail wolf pack.
Yellowstone in winter part 2
In the last column I wrote about the majesty of Yellowstone and how the park’s animals such as Bison and Bighorn Sheep eked out a living in the depths of winter. In this column I would like to concentrate on the rock stars of Yellowstone National Park–the wolves (Canus lupus). No animal has the allure and mystic quite like the Gray Wolf. It’s a top predator that represents the ultimate in wilderness and all things wild. However, it’s also an animal that is near and dear to our human hearts because of our close relationship with the wolves first cousin—the domestic dog. Back in March of 1995 and again 1996, a total of 31 gray wolves were released into the greater Yellowstone ecosystem in an effort to re-establish wolves in the park. This was the last piece that completed the ecosystem puzzle. Since then the wolves have taken their rightful place at the top of the food chain and have flourished. Today they are doing extremely well. I’ve come to Yellowstone during winter specifically for the wolves. Over the past week I have been watching and photographing several of the wolf packs. It’s mating season for the wolves so the activity within each pack is at a fevered pitch. Each day a new drama unfolds before me. The main pack I am following has seven members. Four females and three males (four are black and three are gray). The alpha male, who is black, is busy attending to the alpha female but when the alpha female is laying down or not around the alpha male is also mating with the subordinate females. If you know anything about wolf biology it is only the alpha female that is suppose to breed so to see this kind of extra curricular activity is very interesting. It just goes to show that these animals are not wind-up toys with a set script of behaviors. I like this unpredictableness of nature. As I mentioned, the alpha male of the pack is black with silver highlights. His yellow eyes stand out from his black fur like two beams of sunlight. He is easy to tell apart from the other black members of the pack. He holds his tail high and seems to be spending all of his time moving around and visiting with the other pack members. He doesn’t seem to be getting much rest or eating very much. For days I watch as the alpha male spends all of his waking hours chasing after the females in his pack. Over the past three days I have been watching the alpha male mating with all the female members of his pack. Then on the fourth day everything changed. About mid-day a lone male wolf, gray in color, that had been hanging around in the valley for several days charged into the pack and challenged the residing alpha male. For the next three hours the two fought and chased each other. When all the fighting and chasing was done the black alpha male was driven off and the new gray male took over as the pack leader. It was stunning to witness. Also, knowing this was not something that was seen on TV in some far away and distant land was also thrilling. It happened right here and right now. The ousted male moved about a half mile away to another ridge. He climbed to the top of the ridge and stood on a snow covered rock. Bathed in the last sunlight of the day, he stood there and howled across the river valley back to where his pack was located. As the sun set he began to trot down the side of the ridge right towards me and the road. I moved forward to get some closer images. He paused at the side of the road, turned and starred at me, then crossed the road. He ran through the deep snow on the opposite side of the road and made his way up the hill. It was obvious where this wolf was heading. Three days before his pack killed an elk, and he was heading directly for the remains. He trotted up to what was left of the carcass. For the past couple of days the Black-billed Magpies, Ravens and Coyotes have been picking at the carcass. The male wolf trotted over and picked up one of the hind quarters as if it was a chew toy and began to trot off with it. He carried the hind leg of the elk about 300 yards to the base of a very large rock in an open field and set it down. He looked around in all directions before he settled down and started to chew on the leg. In my mind I could hear what the wolf was thinking. “I need to start to eat right, exercise regularly and in a couple days I will be going back to flight the new gray male and win my pack back”. It was now very dark so I started up the truck and began the long drive back to town. What a magnificent day. Until next time… All of this was swirling through my head recently while photographing a beautiful adult male American Badger. Although the American Badger looks similar to the European Badger, and the Honey Badger, it is not closely related to either one. American Badger is found in open grasslands of the western states and the open pine forests of the Midwest and mid-Atlantic states. The badger is a member of the Mustelidae family, which means they are in the same family as mink, weasel, otter and wolverine. These are a diverse group of carnivorous mammals that have elongated bodies, short legs, short round ears and thick fur. Apart from the Sea Otter, all of these mustelids have anal scent glands that produce a strong musky smell that they use in marking territories, attracting mates and more. Some of the more notable characteristics of
Mexico
It was about an hour past sunset and the evening sky was jet black and filled with a million stars. I leaned back in the seat of the small refurbished wooden fishing boat and felt the cool night air wash over my face. As the boat motored along, my mind wondered back to all the amazing adventures that have transpired throughout the day and it brought a smile to my face. It would be another 30 minutes or so before we would arrive back at the dock so I sat back and enjoyed the night sky and my thoughts. The boat skimmed across the still waters of the narrow tea stained river. The boat’s captain navigates through narrow tunnels not much wider and taller than the boat. The tunnels are cut out of the Red Mangrove trees that line the river bank. The arching branches and aerial roots of the mangrove form a thick dense stand and without constant pruning the passageways would be grown over in no time. Only a tiny light attached to the bow of the boat and the steady hand of the captain guides us safely down the river and through the maze of tree roots, dogging crocodiles and night-herons that are hunting on the river. I am on the pacific coast of central Mexico about three hours north or Puerto Vallarta in a wonderful small fishing village of San Blas. I have just finished another wonderful day of photographing the wide variety of bird species that call this amazing area of Mexico home. I am here for 10 days and as I write this I am on day five. Each day is similar. Get up about an hour before sunrise and pack up all the camera gear and food and water for the day. Head to the truck and drive either down to the beach to photograph the amazing variety of sea birds such as the Magnificent Frigate bird or drive up high into the mountains to locate and photograph rare and elusive birds such as the Colima Pygmy-Owl or Magpie Jays. Today was a little different. At 3 PM I met up with a local guide and captain of this marvelous boat. My guide is a pleasant, retirement aged gentleman with a wide toothless grin and a nodding head. His English is limited to the names of all the birds in the area. So all you have to do is say the name of the bird and he nods, smiles and off we go to find the bird. What an amazing guide. This evening was so amazing my head is spinning. We started out this boat trip with wonderful birds such as a Common Black Hawk which tried to kill and eat a Black Vulture. If you have ever seen the size of a vulture you know they are huge birds so this Black Hawk must have had a huge apatite and even a larger ego. Needless to say he didn’t manage to catch and kill the vulture but I got some great images of this bird. We slowing made our way down the river with a new species of bird around each bend. As the sun was setting we found a colony of Boat-billed Herons. This crazy looking bird has a bill as wide as a boat, well not really but it’s very wide, and a loud raspy call that is unforgettable. I got so many great images of this secretive bird that I was just thrilled. And the best was yet to come. By the time we got to the turn around point in the river the sun had set and the stars were starting to shine. Our guide turned the boat around and we started heading back in the dark. Using a large battery operated spot light he illuminated the narrow river. Slowly we made our way down the river until he suddenly called out Pottoe. There perched on a dead branch sitting bolt upright was one of the most amazing birds. These members of the night-jar family hunt at night using huge yellow eyes to gaze skyward watching for flying insects. When they see an inset they fly out and grab the bug before returning to their perch. What really amazed me was the size of these nocturnal birds. Nearly the size of a large owl each time this bird took flight to snatch up a bug I thought I was seeing an owl. Earlier in the day when it was still light we found a Northern Potoo which is a bird of the topical lowlands, sitting on its daytime roost. It is a nocturnal bird that sleeps during the day. In order to avoid being eaten during the day by other birds and animals it strikes a pose on a tree branch that mimics a wooden branch allowing it to blend in so well you would swear it was part of the tree. The guide held the spot light on the bird I was able to get some wonderful images of this crazy bird. While I was photographing the Potoo other nocturnal critters were rustling up some dinner. The spot light also illuminated a several Fishing Bats. These highly specialized bats have enlarged feet which allow them to snatch small fish off the surface of the river in the middle of the night. Will wonders never of coastal Mexico never cease? Since I am here for almost another week I hope to write one more store about my adventures of photographing the wildlife in coastal Mexico. Until then…
Mexico Part 2
My photographic adventures along the Pacific Coast of Mexico continue this week with a wide variety of strange and wonderful birds. As I mentioned in the first installment, I am in a small fishing village of San Blas, Mexico. Each day is sunny and warm and filled with another grand adventure and discovery. Some days are spent along the coast photographing pelicans and gulls as they skim across the oceans surface. Other days we drive up into the mountains and tropical forests for owls and songbirds. One of the more spectacular coastal birds in this region is the Magnificent Frigatebird. If you have ever watched one of the TV specials about sea birds you probably have seen this bird. It is huge with nearly an 8 foot wing span. The males are black with a large red throat sac called a gular sack that it can inflate like a balloon to impress the girls during courtship. They are very distinctive looking with long narrow wings that angle backwards at the wrist. Their tail is forked and up to 2 feet long like the streamers on a ships mast. The females have white chests and black head. The young have white chests and heads. The frigatebird has the longest wings relative to its body weight of any bird. It is truly a sea bird but it never lands or swims in the ocean. Instead it takes off from land and goes out to sea, soaring high over the waters surface looking for fish, jellyfish, crustaceans and more. When it spots something it swoops down uses it long thin bill to snatch it from the oceans surface. Many consider this bird the pirate of the bird world, flying a black flag and wondering the oceans in search of food treasure. In fact these birds are known to go to sea and continue flying for many days to weeks at a time without landing. They are helpless if they land on the waters surface so they fly continually. The sleep and eat on the wing. In the ports along the coast fisherman bring in the catch of the day and the frigatebirds gather by the hundreds looking for handouts. These huge birds circle overhead waiting to swoop down and snatch up a scrap of discarded fish. Photographing them as they swirl overhead is both fun and challenging. The local fisherman were accommodating and trying to talk to us as though we can understand. Once they saw that we were photographing the birds the fishermen sent two small children down to the waters edge to throw some fish scraps to bring in the birds. Then we really got some good images. One day while driving along a tropical forest road high up in the mountains a large rusty colored bird flew right in front of the windshield. I stopped the truck in a small opening in the thick forest and looked across the valley. There at the base of one of the many trees was a very large rusty colored bird with a very long tail and a large curved bill. My buddy Rick recognizes it immediately as a Squirrel Cuckoo. Before I could ask the question this bird starts to run directly up the trunk of the tree just like a squirrel. Once it reached the branches of the tree it hopped from branch to branch with great speed, skill and agility. With its long tail and rusty red color it appeared and acted just like a squirrel. Now I didn’t even have to ask the question as to how it got its name. The bird briefly landed on a branch out in the open, which is unusual in dense tropical forests, and I was able to get just one image. Since my camera shoots 10 pictures per second I would normally get dozens of images of a single species but this bird was only interested in moving across the valley and we never saw it again. It will be a bird that will stick in my memory for a long time to come. I could go on and on about all the owls I photographed after dark, high up in the mountains or the boat trips that we took out into the ocean to photograph nesting Blue-footed Boobies. Or how I was laying face down in piles of bird poop to get a decent image of nesting Blue-foots. But I guess that will have to be another column. Until next time…
Spring Grouse
Saying that I like spring-time would be a cliché. I mean, who doesn’t like spring? After a long cold and snowy winter, spring is like a breath of fresh air. The dull brown and drab gray landscape that dominates late winter turns bright emerald green, dotted with blooming flowers in a multitude of colors. Birds are singing and fish are spawning. For a wildlife photographer, spring is a magical season, filled with so many possibilities and promise that it is often hard to concentrate on just one subject. However, this spring I have made a plan to concentrate on photographing a group of birds that have always intrigued me—the grouse. I traveled to the prairies along the Minnesota / South Dakota boarder to photograph Greater Prairie Chickens. Once a week for the past four weeks I visited the chickens breeding grounds. These birds have such an interesting breeding system. And when I say system I mean an elaborate system. Catch this, the males all gather in one central location where the grass is short and the visibility is greatest. This arena is called a lek. Once at the lek the males all put on a show for the females by performing a combination of displays and dances. Leaning forward the males fan their tails, droop their wings to the ground and also erect a set of long narrow feathers located along its neck like horns. Then the male gulps air and inflates bright yellow air sacs located along its neck, which helps to produce a booming sound. The males do this over and over in hopes of attracting the eye of a receptive female. Speaking of females, they travel from the surrounding area to the lek to watch the prospective males. She will stand along the edge of the lek or sometimes just walk right through the middle as she watches the males perform. Once she decides which male suits her they will either copulate right on the spot or fly a short distance away to mate. As I think about it, the lek system of mating is perfect for a prairie species. Since there are no trees the sound of their booming travels a long distance and the open arena allows for maximum viewing. Half way back across the state of Minnesota in the deciduous forest region is another favorite grouse, the Ruffed Grouse. For years I have been trying to find a good location to photograph this denizen of the woodlands and I finally found it this week. Several things intrigue me about the Ruffed Grouse. The habitat they prefer is young aspen and pine forests combination. Not a common forest type anywhere. In addition the population of the Ruffed Grouse has huge population swings peaking every ten years then crashing. But it’s the mating ritual of the Ruffed Grouse that I am hear to see and photograph. Each spring the males skulk along the forest floor in search for the perfect log. Once it is located the male stands on the log and begins to advertise to prospective females. Unlike the Prairie Chicken which performs in groups out in the open, the Ruffed Grouse is a solo performer in a dense forest. So the trick is to get your advertising “song” out across your territory to the ears of prospective females. And this is the cool part. Unlike the male Prairie Chicken who inflates air sacs and makes a booming noise the Ruffed Grouse uses a mechanical means instead of his voice. Perched on his log the male’s posture becomes erect with his head in the air, his tail fans out and lies across the log like the train of a wedding dress. His wings are cupped and droop forward and now he is ready to announce his presence to all the females in his woodlot. Slowly at first he gives a single flap of his wings, and not just any old flap. No, this flap is so strong and powerful that is actually makes a thudding sound. Then as if the wings were wound up with a steel spring the wings start to flap faster, and faster each time creating another thud until the flapping and thudding is so rapid it sounds like a drum beat. Each set of rapid flapping lasts only 7-10 seconds then the male ruffles up his feathers and settles down. Curious, I wondered how long in between each flapping session so I began to time it. The male that I was photographing was on a fairly regular schedule of every three and a half minutes between drumming. When you first hear the drumming of a Ruffed Grouse you notice right away that you are not really heard it as much as you feel it. Turns out this is a very effect way to get your “song” out across dense woodland. Another cool thing about these birds. Females are attracted to the males drumming and slowly walk in to meet the male on his drumming log. When a female approaches he stops drumming and begins a visual display. He fans his tail like a turkey while stands on his log. If he is acceptable mating with take place and she will wonder off and the male will return to a life of drumming on his log. These are just a few reasons why I really, and I mean really like spring. Until next time…
Spring / Reproduction
I think the words spring and reproduction should be synonymous. Or at least in the natural world they should be. After all it is spring time when the plants, birds, animals and even the reptiles and amphibians all reproduce. All you need to do is spend five minutes outside at this time of year and you would know what I mean. Reproduction is happening all over the natural world. The other day I put on my hip boots and headed out into a small shallow pond. On my way into the pond I observed a male and female Wood Duck. The male Wood Duck was displaying for the female. He would swim in front of the female and make a “zipping” call while showing off his brilliant breeding plumage. Reproduction is under way here. Near the edge of the pond was a female Canada Goose sitting on her nest made of dried grasses with the inner cup lined with her own feathers. A set of six eggs lay nestled underneath her. The male was standing guard nearby and started honking very loudly when I got too near. Another pair of Canada Geese was swimming in the pond with five tiny yellow goslings swimming very close by their sides. Reproduction is complete here. But none of this is what drew me to this pond on this wonderful spring morning. No it was the incessant calling of the male American Toad (Bufo americanus). For days this pond has been devoid of any toad or frog calls. I have been waiting for the toads to start breeding. In fact I have been keeping track of the dates when the toads start to call in this pond for several years and this year they are nearly 2 weeks later than usual. When the water warms to the optimal breeding temperature the male toads enter the pond, swim to the center and crawl up onto any stick or branch that is sticking out of the water and get ready to call. They take a series of shallow breaths. You can actually see them hyper-inflating their lungs with each breath then a small patch of skin on their throat inflates. This is called the vocal sac, and they start to call. The inflated vocal sac acts like a resonating chamber much like a drum. Here is how it works. The sound originates in their larynx or voice box. The toad takes air into it’s lungs and closes off its nostrils. The air is then forced up and out. The air rushing past the larynx produces the high pitched sound. The inflated air sac acts as a resonating chamber intensifying the sound carrying the call of the male toad far and wide across the pond. The females who are listening for the males enter the pond and start to swim towards the calling males. This is all the males need to be enticed, because as soon as he sees a female drawing near he jumps from his calling perch and swims directly towards her. The male grapples with the female until he has maneuvered himself on top of her. In most species the female toad is much larger than the male. He grasps her just behind her front legs and won’t let go. When the two toads are locked together this is called amplexus. Floating in the water the male will not let go. Sometimes the pair sink to the bottom of the pond while others swim to any green plants that may be growing the in water. Either way the female begins to lay long stings of eggs encased in a clear gelatinous casing. Toads and frogs have external fertilization which means as the eggs emerge from the female into the water the male is applying sperm. If the pair are not joined close enough together the sperm won’t be applied to the eggs and the eggs won’t develop. This is why the male grabs the female so tightly and won’t let go. This is also why he is smaller. Egg laying can go on for a few minutes or several hours. The strings of eggs cling to the bottom of the pond or the plants growing in the water. Once the female has deposited her eggs the two will break up and the male will go back to calling for another female. The water temperature will incubate the eggs and within a week or two tiny tadpoles will emerge from the eggs and a new generation of toads will inhabit the pond. Until next time…
Nature Amazement
I am continually amazed with each and every encounter I have with nature. Even after more than twenty years of being in this business, I still find myself in awe of much of what I see in nature–especially at this time of year. I can find amazement and wonderment in the simplest things and also in the complexity of nature. I often look at some of the most common and simple aspects of nature and think about it, not for what I see on the surface but for what I don’t see. Here is a good example. Last week while scouting some locations to photograph some birds I spotted something I hadn’t plan on finding. I love this part of the job. You know, finding something completely unexpected. It’s like a wonderful gift that you weren’t expecting to receive. This gift was a nest of a Red-bellied Woodpecker. I had just scanned the surface of a small pond with my binoculars when I turned and saw an adult Red-belled Woodpecker about 100 feet away fly directly through the woods and land at it’s nest cavity. Of course I was thrilled. The nest was located about 25 feet off the ground in a broken off trunk of a Boxelder tree. I walked over to observe more. When I approached I could hear the young woodpecker’s high pitched cries for food from within the cavity. The parents were out gathering insects to feed the young and would return every 5 five minutes or so. It didn’t take me long to put a plan into action. I headed back to the office where I store all of my extra equipment. I had something special in mind for this situation. I knew that due to the height of the cavity the images wouldn’t look very good. However, my fifteen foot tall deer stand and ladder would even the playing field. Within hours of discovering the nest I erected my stand about 30 feet away from the nest. When I climbed up to take a look at my new vantage point I knew I had a winning angle. It didn’t take long before the parents showed up to feed their young. Right away I started to get some great images. As the morning wore on and the hours pasted, the parents slowed down the feedings. Now it would be up to a half hour between visits by the parents. For another photographer this extra time would be shear boredom. Not for me. I love this down time. It gives me a moment to look around and to think. Sitting fifteen feet up in a tree gives you a completely different prospective on the woods. Suddenly I thought this is what it must look like to the birds that live at this level in the forest. I could feel the tree swaying in the breeze and I could see other birds fly by below me. Everything became crystal clear and I could see every little movement by the chipmunk on the forest floor, the eagle and osprey that were fighting over a fish as they flew over head. And it got me thinking about the things that seem so simple such as the cavity these birds were nesting in. It may seem that a hole in a tree may not be very impressive but that is not how I see it. The woodpeckers created this hole. It didn’t just magically appear. This means an entire series of events had to take place for this to happen. Years before a strong wind or lightning bolt had broke off the large limb, leaving a three foot tall stump. After that it took several years for the stump to dry, the bark to fall off and become soft enough for the woodpeckers to take advantage of it. Along came the Red-bellied Woodpeckers who searched for just the right location for their new home. With one mighty blow from their bill, a chip of wood fell to the forest floor and the woodpeckers started construction on their new home. And now for one of the most amazing things. With only the bird’s beak for a tool, the pair of woodpeckers started to hammer away at the dried wood. Very slowly, chip by chip, a small depression in the wood took form. Over the next couple of days, armed with only the will-power a pair of woodpeckers desiring a family could possess, a secure, dry and well protected home took shape. As the cavity became deeper the parents would have to climb inside the cramped hole and hammer away at the wood interior. After several chips were broken free they would gather up all the wood chips in their beak and climb to the cavity entrance and spit them out to be carried away on the wind. After about a week of constantly banging their faces against hard wood the woodpeckers would complete their home. Only now could the egg laying take place. Suddenly one of the parents returns to the nest cavity to feed the young, snapping me out of my thoughts and I fire off my camera capturing some of the most amazing aspects of nature. Until next time…