Janice's Birding Blog

Lots of Snowies but No Snow!

2012-01-10T19:41:00.000-05:00

The winter of 2011/2012 has proven to be an irruptive year for Snowy Owls, as initial sightings of them along the shores of Lake Ontario began at the end of November. Of course I didn't know this at the time when I rushed down to the Whitby harbour at dusk on November 26th to see one that had been reported that afternoon:

As the sun set behind her, there she was in the tree, just right of the centre:

I rushed back down the next day to see her on the rocks...

...and the day after that:

...and so on:

Her dining room table was the concrete pier, where on this particluar day she was mantling over her kill, some of which can be seen behind her if you double click on the photo. Rumour had it that she was seen taking out mergansers on the wing:

For the most part she was easily found at the harbour, but there were also days when she was not to be found. This next set was taken on Sunday, January 8th, when she was seen feeding on a poor duck or gull:

After finishing her meal, she waddled across the concrete with those massive feathery legs and POOF, was gone, as she dropped down onto the boulders right behind the pier. No wonder there were days that she could not be found!

The latest news here in Whitby is that a second one is at the harbour too, so indeed Snowy Fever continues to spread. In their high Arctic breeding grounds, the main food source for Snowies is lemmings, so when the Owl parents have figured out that it's a bumper year for lemmings, they'll raise lots of young owlets accordingly. But eventually they'll face competition for food, so that's when they start heading our way.

For further information on this irruptive year for Snowy Owls, check out this link:

http://10000birds.com/thank-a-lemming.htm

I hate to admit it, but I began to crave closer views of Snowies than what the local harbour one was giving me, so I headed north to the Ravenshoe/Holland Marsh area that's usually a guarantee each winter for Snowies, or so I thought. I dipped on them during two trips there, and a third trip gave me a distant view of a white blob across a field, grrrr.

I dodged another CAA call as I fish-tailed my way through deep mud with water-filled canals on either side of me. I dodged another CAA call as I slid on ice with frozen water-filled canals on either side of me. I'm still undecided as to which scenario would have been preferable had I slid off the road...

To add insult to injury, an adult male Snowy had been reported in another nearby area, which would be a first for me, as I'd only ever seen females or immatures. So finally, on my third attempt in that part of Holland Marsh did I see him at last, on Friday, January 6th. It's been a weird winter for us with hardly any snow to date, but the lack of snow makes it easier to find the owls! I saw the all-white adult male and this immature Snowy Owl on the wing across a field when I first arrived, and followed the latter to his landing pad:

The flat agricultural area that attracts the Snowies consists of dark soil where market gardening crops are grown each year, and the dark soil made it soooo easy for me to find him at last!!! So I plunked myself down in an onion field (with permission from the land owner), my boots and butt totally covered in mud (just like my car!), and spent an hour with him, watching him preen away, what a gorgeous owl!

But it still wasn't enough for me, so yesterday I returned to the area and saw five different Snowy Owls in the end, what a day! My first stop was for the adult male again, he was such an easy find as I once again crawled through an onion field (with permission):

Gorgeous!

I left him to snooze in the sunshine and braved the roads at Ravenshoe once again, which in fact were much better than expected re mud versus ice. My second Snowy for the day was the white blob in the distance, can you see it?? It's a bit tougher with snow on the ground, isn't it? ~~especially when one's car is fish-tailing on a narrow road~~

My third Snowy for the day was seen far off in the distance, so I walked along the path and was so focused on the distant Snowy that I almost stepped on this fourth one on the ground right in front of me!

I encourage you to double click on these next few photos to see more detail:

I have never been to the Snowy Owls' breeding grounds in the Arctic, but perhaps the stark landscape and wide open fields of the Holland Marsh remind them a bit of home? Could the same be said for the rocks and boulders along the harbours of Lake Ontario? In any case, I feel privileged to see them at all!

A Neglected November

2012-01-10T13:55:00.000-05:00

...well actually, it's far more than just one dreary month that I've been off the radar with my blog, so I'm now trying to get back on track with it as best I can, breaking it up into manageable chunks. I can't even say I've had too many bird and critter photos to sift through as generally it's been a quiet late-autumn, but now I'm back!

This will definitely be an odds 'n' sods posting, though, the only orderly thing about it is that it's in chronological order, going back to an early misty morning in the Kawarthas on November 1st:

The one advantage of reviewing my photos so long after the fact is that I am reminded of what good birds we've had in the area, as was the case with this immature lone Brant seen in Pickering on November 3rd, but only for a few days:

This was not a Lifer for me, having already seen them in great numbers at the ferry terminal in Tsawwassen, British Columbia, but it was a "province" bird for me!

It eventually got quite comfortable with me being so close to it and began to preen, perhaps beacuse I was lying flat on the ground in goose poop!

Never let it be said that I don't take photos of gulls! Here's a Ring-billed Gull that was checking me out as I fussed over the Brant:

I made several trips to the Oshawa harbour in early November for the annual Loon look-out, managing to see a Pacific (thanks, Jean!), some Red-throated and thousands of Common Loons that survived the severe botulism scourge that had ravaged the province. Here were some Common Loons seen on Friday, November 4th:

Monday, November 7th saw Ann and I on a road trip to the Kawarthas, and our first stop was at Mr. and Mrs. Corn's place, aka Sharon and Joe. The 902 Trumps were there in full force, eagerly awaiting their breakfast:

Ann's now hooked on them too!

...'twas a better day for the "outcast" cygnet, as the family allowed it a much closer approach without getting its butt kicked by mom, hooray!

Preening after the meal:

We said our farewells to The Trumps, Sharon, and Joe, and continued along back roads where we saw a lingering Great Blue Heron...

...a slaughtered Ruffed Grouse who's seen better days:

...and some beautiful landscapes to make up for the dead bird sighting:

On our way through the Carden area, we spotted my first White-winged Crossbills in nineteen months (!), this is a ~~garbage~~ ~~trash~~ ~~really, really bad~~ record shot only:

We saw a perched Rough-legged Hawk (that are now few and far between this winter, I must say!) that was quietly minding its own business...

...until a Common Raven harassed it:

We dropped in at Ginny's place in Uphill and enjoyed a Hairy Woodpecker feasting on peanut butter:

On the Owl front, all we saw was this Barn Owl, sigh GOTCHA!:

It was still hunting season, so Ann and I were mindful of where we went on the back roads, and it seemed that the critters knew that too, as we really didn't see very much that day. A Northern Shrike at the Golden Hour was our last good sighting for the day, and my first for the season:

Master John has always told me that it becomes more and more difficult with time to add Lifers to one's list, and I now understand that, somuchso that when we read an ontbirds posting of a dark morph adult Pomarine Jaeger seen in Cobourg harbour, off we went on the afternoon of Sunday, November 13th. There was a distinct sense of urgency as the reported bird was suspected to be in its death throes from botulism.

We didn't make it in time, nor did the bird.

But John and I probably had our closest views ever of its field markings, sad to say, before it made its final journey to the ROM:

My next road trip with Ann was on Monday, November 14th, and we stayed local along Lake Ontario, preferring to avoid any hunting encounters up north. At Humber Bay, we readily saw the resident Northern Mockingbird:

House Sparrows were abundant:

My BOTD, though, had to be the Gadwall! I confess that I've never really paid that much attention to the different shades on the male's head, but also love the scalloping details on his breast:

Look at him, he has colours that I wasn't even aware of!

Ann snapped a secret shot of me not- so- gracefully "Gadwalling". Thanks, Ann!

We wrapped up our day at the Evergreen Brickworks in the Don Valley, a new area for us both. In its prior life, it was a quarry and industrial site, but has been converted over to a park with several ponds in the middle of the city:

The former Don Valley Brick Works was in business for almost a century, and supplied bricks to several Toronto landmarks, including Massey Hall, Osgoode Hall, and Casa Loma:

On the nature front it has great potential, but not so much in mid-November, other than a gorgeous Red-tailed Hawk that had been drenched a bit by the wet snow showers earlier that morning:

Working on those tail feathers:

Now that's a red tail!!!

My next Kawarthan road trip with Ann on Monday, November 21st was exciting, but not because of what we saw, but more on that later.... Our target bird was a reported Snowy Owl, but we dipped on that, and pretty much anything else that moved, so we enjoyed the views instead:

An early winter's thin sheet of ice on the surface of the water:

The subdued neutrals of the landscape almost made us beg for a snowfall:

On the outskirts of Fenelon Falls, we were surprised to spot a Coyote!

We stopped off for lunch in town and then headed for the north shore of the lake, and that's when ~~all hell broke loose~~ I decided I had had enough of these boring road trips. The car needed a break, too:

Actually, it was all part of my master plan to spend some time with a local ~~tow truck driver~~ fellow to glean some information on wildlife viewing in the area. If anyone tells you otherwise, they're just wrong!

Meanwhile back at the ranch, European Starlings were in a feeding frenzy by our garage. They're such noisy party birds, excelling at flash mobs on the ground or in the sky. And they're really quite attractive too, if only we paid more attention to them versus slamming them all the time!

The one on the left has a crossed bill, which may be either an injury or a genetic deformity:

A solo run to the cottage on Thursday, November 24th produced a pair of live (!) Ruffed Grouse...

...as well as this Common Loon off the Point, what an unexpected treat!

My final November road trip with Ann was on the 28th to the west end of Lake Ontario, starting off at Bronte Provincial Park where the best bird was this pretty young Cedar Waxwing:

At LaSalle Park in Burlington we saw lots of waterfowl, including this female Greater Scaup...

...a Red-breasted Merganser:

...a dashingly handsome Mallard drake:

...and American Coots:

Our next stop was at the lift bridge and it turned out to be one of my most memorable photography sessions ever, as the lighting was sweet, as were the birds, including thousands of Long-tailed Ducks:

A first year male (thanks Justin!):

The Red-breasted Mergansers were spectacular to see, and on subsequent return visits, I have never seen as many there as I did that day:

What a joy to see White-winged Scoters as well!

It was time to head east again, so we stopped off at Colonel Sam for Grebes, which were too far out for any decent shots, but this female Ruddy Duck was a good bird to see:

Our last stop of the day at Humber Bay gave us awesome views of Redheads, what gorgeous ducks!

A pair of delightful male Redheads are bookends to a single female, with a Mallard in the rear:

My final BOTM on the very last day of November was this Sharp-shinned Hawk perched in a tree over my feeders as I pulled into the driveway:

I have not replenished my feeders since.

So ends November, 2011, phew! This was a long overdue posting, and I now still have December and January to do, as well as some October stragglers, noooooooooooooooooo!!

Can You Believe They Put Out an APB on Me???

2011-11-06T15:53:00.000-05:00

So here's the deal, a few weeks ago I decided I needed a break so I became a ~~run~~flyaway from the family. C'mon, think about it, having nine brothers and sisters is incredibly tough, not to mention all of these humans making such a fuss over us as we hung out on Sturgeon Lake. This cuckoo or loon, I'm not sure which, named "Janice" was the first one who went silly for us around Thanksgiving week-end, she even took some pics of us when we were still one big happy family in the back swamp:

But little did she know that I really wanted to have some "alone" time, so I decided to ~~run~~ fly away from dad, aka #902, mom, and my nine sibs. To this day, no one knows where I went, and I wish it to remain that way. As they say, "What happens in the Kawarthas stays in the Kawarthas", right? But did those human freaks really have to put out an APB on me??? They were all doing a lot of hand-wringing when my family was seen without me, I just don't get it. And rumour has it that this guy named Dan put out the APB on me through his Kawartha Naturalists club, talk about a violation of privacy!!! There were even rumours of my demise, too, yikes, I was only gone for a few weeks, for crying out loud !

But these humans were tenacious, so last Monday I decided to re-join the family and I was eventually spotted by this nice couple named The Corns, aka Sharon and Joe, who then contacted this Trumpeter Swan Lady in Burlington named Bev to share the news of my return.

But things weren't going so well for me, I was positive that mom and dad and my sibs would welcome me back with open wings. So on Tuesday, I arrived back again at that little swamp near Janice's cottage with the family around 8:45 a.m. I knew it was a big deal because this guy called Jimmy ran inside to make a quick phone call when he saw us all back together again. What he didn't realize at the time, though, was that mom was still really ticked off at me, and was chasing me away. Harumph, whassup with that??? And it wasn't going so well with the rest of the family, either. Before I knew it, the family took off to the other side of the lake without me, so I followed them. As we came in for a landing at The Corn's cafeteria, I heard this black car slam on its brakes and saw cuckoo swamp lady Janice holding on to the steering wheel with one hand, and taking a really bad pic of us all with her other hand. Sheeesh, another one who was in on that APB!

It took her a while to find us on the lake, though, as apparently they needed photos of me to compare to my "MISSING" poster:

Cuckoo lady seemed quite overjoyed to see me again as, after all, I had been presumed dead, so I put on one of my better poses for her:

But deep down I was mortified, as my dirty little secret would soon be discovered. I had made a really bad judgment call by ditching the family and was now a total OUTCAST. That's me, way off in the distance, the shame, the shame!!! Cuckoo lady's tears of joy soon turned to tears of sadness:

Mrs. Corn fed the rest of the family this awesome corn delicacy, while I was relegated to staying away:

Any time I tried to get closer to the family to ask for mercy and their forgiveness, I was shunned, but mom's hatred of me was the worst. Cuckoo lady gets an action shot of mom's take-off:

Then I had to suffer the indignity of a public banishment by mom, as I apparently got too close to the family:

I hid behind the cattails as mom returned to the family, acting as if nothing had happened:

And here I was, all alone, all by myself, totally humiliated:

So Mr. Corn tried to quietly slip me some nibblies on the side without the family knowing:

But that didn't go so well for me either, as I was forced to make a hasty retreat when mom chased me off, that's me, aka OUTCAST, swimming away from everyone:

I still stuck around in the distance, but it sure was tough watching everyone else enjoy the meal without me. Ahhhh, if I could do it all over again...

Cuckoo lady was ooo-ing and awww-ing over how much my sibs' feathers had changed, although there really was no need to, as our gray-brown plumage stays that way into our first summer:

Cuckoo lady even got caught up in the feeding frenzy and thanked Mrs. Corn for taking this pic of her feeding the rest of my family, while I'm still way, way off in the distance:

The Swan Lady in Burlington has since told Cuckoo lady and the Corns that if they get to know the rest of my family well enough, they'll eventually be able to recognize the ~~hairy~~ feathery eyeball or evil eye that is cast my way if I get too close to them. This may well be one of those looks:

And so it goes with my sad life, I now know that I've made a huge mistake by leaving my family and find myself wondering if I'll ever be accepted back by them. Sometimes I still hang out with my family, trying to make amends and patch things up, but other times I choose to stay away. I'm a nobody, an avis non grata. I'm way below the bottom of the pecking order, I'm off the grid.

I'm all by myself.

Back to my Kawarthan Autumn

2011-10-29T21:54:00.000-04:00

An early return trip to the cottage on Thursday, October 6th meant a chilly fall morning where Mother Nature was seen sucking the warmth out of our mist-covered lake:

A Great Blue Heron took flight, perhaps to keep warm??

I wandered down to the swamp and ~~saw~~ heard numerous Golden-crowned Kinglets dining on insects as the morning sunshine warmed up the cedars, but a pair of female (!) Pileated Woodpeckers caught my attention in the woods at the end of our point:

I was keen to visit the Altberg Wildlife Sanctuary Nature Reserve (now that's a mouthful!) before cottage season ended, so as Dan successfully discouraged me from making a solo trip there, I arranged to meet Ginny at noon, so off I went (past an empty Osprey nest, hooray!), stopping to enjoy a bit of scenery along the way:

Altberg Nature Reserve is eleven hundred and sixty-three acres of woodland and wetland in the Kawarthas, and the Kawartha Field Naturalists are the property stewards:

Ginny greeted me at the gate, wisely wearing red so as not to become the target of any local hunters:

Ginny adeptly guided me through the nature reserve for the next two and a half hours, which admittedly would have been virtually impossible for me to do on my own, thanks again, Ginny!

The trail map at the entrance made it all look so easy...

...but once inside, the autumn leaves on the ground along the trails made navigation a challenge:

There's no way I could have coped on my own!

On the critter and birding front it was extremely quiet, but admittedly it was the dead zone of the day. Our BOTD was a Red-shouldered Hawk that we heard calling, but were unable to ever get a visual on it. Regardless, I was content to visit this beautiful location so close to the cottage and will definitely make a return trip there (consider yourself forewarned), the Kawartha Field Naturalists have done a fabulous job there, congrats!

Look closely at the nick marks on this tree. Some are made by Sapsuckers, but most of them are made by BEAR CLAWS! We looked higher up in the tree to make sure that one wasn't looking down at us:

Ginny and I said our farewells back at the parking lot and I made my way home to the cottage via assorted scenic routes to check out the fall colours in my stomping grounds. There was virtually no colour here, with dead trees in the foreground and coniferous trees in the background...

...so why not try a black and white version??

But as Golden Hour approached, I knew exactly where to go to next, on the outskirts of Bobcaygeon:

Yes, folks, I was admittedly out of control, this is what happens now when wildlife is MIA:

I arrived back at a chilly cottage (yup, past an empty Osprey nest, hooray!), just in time to turn on the heaters for the night, it really was not only looking, but now also feeling like autumn in the Kawarthas!

A Milestone for Mom

2011-10-29T14:18:00.001-04:00

It was time to introduce my mother to my latest love, Algonquin, especially when she confessed that she had never been there before in her entire eighty-seven years on the planet! The only family connection to Algonquin that mom is aware of was a sad one that dates back to 1909: my grandfather's youngest brother Bryce (who my Vancouver uncle is named after) was presumed drowned during a canoe trip in Algonquin at the young age of nineteen...

Mom's summers as a child were for the most part spent exclusively at the family cottage, a tradition which continued into her adult life. The commute from Toronto to the cottage back then took an entire day, so the thought of travelling further away from the cottage was no doubt quite daunting for the family.

But that was all about to change, she and I arrived at the cottage late in the day on Monday, October 3rd, but not before ensuring that my Osprey nest was now vacated for the season, after all, it was October. To my horror, one of the babies was still there!

Dad was still around though, too, doing yet another one of his endless food drops:

I followed up with one of my local Osprey experts, and admittedly it was getting rather late for them to still be loitering around. Dad would know when it was time to head south, but as for the baby, we weren't too sure, and I feared that I was about to witness the process of natural selection first-hand. Over the next few days I made frequent visits to the nest and eventually was able to heave a massive sigh of relief when I determined that the nest was indeed empty for this season, phew!

Mom and I departed for Algonquin at the crack of dawn the next morning (past an empty Osprey nest) and saw first light by the time we reached the Haliburton Highlands:

The autumn colours had progressed since my visit a week earlier:

We arrived at the West Gate to Algonquin at 8:30 a.m., mom's first time ever in The Park!!!

A mandatory stop at Peck Lake for the distressed juvenile Common Loon came up empty yet again, but the colours were spectacular:

We made frequent stops at any lookouts along the highway to take in the colours, even if it was past its peak:

An interesting "time-lapse" colour comparison was evident here. Two and a half weeks prior to this visit with mom, there was no apparent colour change yet....

...but nine days later, there it was!

And a week later with mom, it was past its prime, but still glorious to enjoy:

Mom truly enjoyed her first time at the Visitor Centre:

We learned more specific details about the trees that we were seeing:

The spectacular views from the Centre were breath-taking:

Our final stop for the day was a leisurely drive along Opeongo Road:

The rugged rocky terrain of The Park was still offset by the dwindling autumn colours of the foliage:

And so ended our trip to Algonquin, mom heartily approved of my new love as she thoroughly enjoyed the day. We both suffered culture shock as we left the wilderness of Algonquin to return back home (past an empty Osprey nest) to the city, though, but our shared memories of the day together will stay with us forever!

Rediscovering Autumn in Ontario

2011-10-27T18:46:00.002-04:00

I have a confession to make: I have embarked on a new love affair with autumn in Algonquin!

I made a solo return trip there on Monday, September 26th, mainly to look for the troubled juvenile Common Loon on Peck Lake ~~as well as any moose, sssssh, not a good thing to do when alone!~~, but also to take in the fall colours which were almost at their peak:

I have since rejoiced in my rediscovery of autumn, as this was the first time that I'd ever been to the Park at this time of year, and it's now going to be a regular event for me going forward. As I left the Kawarthas in the dark at pre-dawn and drove through the Haliburton Highlands, the colour intensity became strongest in Algonquin, my gasps as I rounded each curve in the road were wearing me out!

My first stop was at Peck Lake to look for this poor Common Loon that Ann and I had seen in distress on September 18th:

I did an insanely quick circuit of the lake and unfortunately could not find any sign of the Loon, and at this point in time I wasn't even sure if that was a good or a bad sign.

The fall colours along the shoreline of Peck Lake were spectacular, though:

Common Mergansers breed in the Park, and one of my resource booklets tells me that the females become single moms almost immediately after mating season, I saw four that day. There's also a standing war between them and loons, so they tend to stick close to the shoreline:

The distant call of a Common Loon caught my attention at one point, but it was well north of the lake, so I continued along the hiking trail:

My next stop was at Wolf Howl Pond, where I spent ninety minutes of sheer joy taking in the fresh air and beautiful colours of the landscape:

Reflections of autumn in the pond:

Painted Turtles basked in the sunshine:

I encountered a tiny, newly-hatched Snapping Turtle on the trail:

Ironically, a few of its siblings had already been crushed to death by the university research vehicle that made daily visits to monitor turtle eggs, this was a missed area that was lacking wire protection. This little fellow's eyes weren't even open yet:

The colours continued to take my breath away (instead of moose for a change!) :

An inquisitive Palm Warbler checked me out, one of several that I saw along the trail:

A shy White-throated Sparrow really wanted to pay me a visit but was unable to find the courage to come out into the open:

An adult male Yellow-rumped Warbler was more adventuresome:

I left the pond and continued along the main highway...

...to Rock Lake Road...

...and arrived at Coon Lake, a brand new lookout spot for me with a phenomenal colour palette of brilliant reds, greens, rusts, oranges, and golds...

...accentuated by the white bark of the trees, I was in heaven:

But it was back to the harsh reality of crowds and tour buses (even on a weekday!) when I arrived at the Visitor Centre, so I took a quick peek at the fall colours from the lookout deck and then hit the road again:

Another lovely view of the Park from the highway...

...was where I also spotted this huge adult Snapping Turtle meandering into the muddy waters of the pond:

More autumn colours along the highway distracted me:

My final panoramic vista before leaving the Park...

...as this burly, yet still somehow handsome Common Raven escorted me back to the West Gate:

My return trip back to the cottage was beautiful, with the progression of fall colours being less advanced the further south I got, as expected. On a whim I stopped off at the Dorset Scenic Lookout Tower for a comparison:

But here's the deal on this tower: the location originally had a lookout tower for forest fires between 1922 and 1961, but this existing structure was opened just east of the original tower in 1967. That's all well and good, but unfortunately for me, the daunting thought of climbing up to the top, a whopping one hundred feet in the air with absolutely nothing between me and those gorgeous autumn colours just made me want to barf. There, I've said it, I suffer from vertigo, although flying isn't a problem for me, thank goodness. Past trips to the Grand Canyon and the Pacific Coast Highway near Pebble Beach had me hiding under the dashboard of the rental car. But I had come this far, and since there were no crowds to see me wailing, flailing, weeping, or puking, I attempted an ascent to the top and survived! It was definitely worth it in the end, despite my hyperactive gag reflex that gave new meaning to the expression "camera shake":

I forced myself to take this photo of a Turkey Vulture from above!

From the observation deck one can see over three hundred and ten square miles, which of course assumes that one's hands aren't covering the face!

The observation deck is four hundred and sixty-five feet over Lake of Bays ~~I'm sure glad that I didn't read these specs until now!~~ :

I made landfall fifteen minutes later, ~~removing my bib and then cleaning myself up before hitting the road again to continue home to the cottage,~~ and saw this lone adult Osprey at the bridge near my nest, I wondered if this was possibly Dad taking a breather from the kids??

At the nest only one forlorn-looking baby quietly sat still:

So what an amazing road trip I had experienced that day, even if no Moose were seen in the Park. The autumn colours just dazzled me, and I was thrilled to have rediscovered autumn in Ontario. I knew I'd be back to Algonquin again very soon!

Farewell to Summer

2011-10-27T09:48:00.000-04:00

After my wild Algonquin adventures with Ann back in September (yes, folks, I'm out of order once again with my blog), the final week of the summer was spent ~~recuperating from Ann's escpapades~~ peacefully at the cottage with some of my local lovelies, beginning with this female Pileated Woodpecker that foraged for nibblies along our shoreline in the late afternoon. My first feeble attempt at a semi-flight shot looks like this:

Look at the long neck on her as she did a food toss in the air!

...now up to the stump...

...and then over to this pine, she really didn't pay much attention to me as I tried to anticipate her next move as she looked for food, what a beautiful girl!

And speaking of beautiful girls, Mia suffers at the cottage on one of her many beds...

...as does Tessa, whose morning ritual is to always trash the sofa on the front veranda by throwing the pillows and blankets on the floor, but I beat her to it that day:

The last full day of summer already had autumn tints reflected onto the water of our back swamp:

I felt compelled to visit the Osprey nest in the late afternoon, as so much of my wonderful summer had been spent there with the family, one of the babies was cleaning up its beak after a food drop by dad:

"This feels sooooooooooo good!"

Dad did another food drop and as he left the nest, looked at me as if to yell:

"Why am I so grumpy-looking? You wanna know WHY? Because my wife has left me with two screaming babies here that will NOT stop whining at me to %$^&* feed them! Grow up, kids, so I can catch up with my bride in Florida! And shaddup, already!"

"Guilty as charged, I'm one of the whiners, but also the winner of the food drop just now!"

The losing Whiner stayed out on the branch:

I stayed with the babies for about an hour and a half, as I knew it would be one of the last times that we'd all be together (which it was, in the end, waaaaah):

I returned to the cottage just in time for the final sunset of the summer, and what a gorgeous one it was!

The first official sunrise of autumn was a few days later on September 25th, as we were clouded out prior to that:

The first decent autumn sunset found me moving further and further out on the dock each night to chase it as the sun was racing away from us:

Bye bye, summer!

Swan Lake!

2011-10-24T17:33:00.000-04:00

One of my last decent paddles for the season was on Friday, October 7th, after enjoying a tranquil, pastel sunrise:

The day before the official start of our Thanksgiving week-end was a prelude to a phenomenal run of summer weather, so at Jim's suggestion, Brenda and I decided to paddle from the west end of the lake back to the cottage before the boat traffic got ugly over the long week-end. Jim dropped us off at McLaren's Creek, literally on the side of Highway 35!

And yes, that's the tip of my red hot kayak:

It was a gorgeous day for a paddle and a bit on the cool side, but the calm waters meant that we could focus our attention on the spectacular autumn scenery rather than navigating rough waves or other boaters. Brenda takes in the view as we paddle through Ken Reid Conservation Area:

In fact this was my first time seeing the conservation area from the water, and I loved being so close to the Osprey nest that had already been vacated by this year's family:

As we silently paddled our way through the maze of marsh vegetation, more magical scenery awaited us at each and every turn:

On the birding front it was remarkably quiet, other than an American Bittern (a year bird for me, hooray!!!) that we inadvertently flushed, and a hunting Northern Harrier that we watched for quite a while from the comfort of our kayaks. There was no sign of the Common Loon family, though, which I could live with because I only had my toy camera with me.

Almost four hours later we arrived back to The Point, and while I was still down on the dock unloading my paddling gear, Brenda returned to tell me of "some swans in the back swamp". So off we went to check them out, and what an incredible family of Trumpeter Swans they were, comprising of two adults, only one of them was tagged as "902"...

...but the cygnet count was staggering at ten!!

This parent should look far more exhausted, given the number of young ones to be cared for!

Here are a few group shots, go ahead, count 'em: two parents with ten cygnets equals TWELVE!!

One of my Sibley guides indicates that the usual number of eggs for swans is three to eight, so the sheer size of this family seemed remarkable. After reporting the sighting to the Wye Marsh Trumpeter Swan Program group, I have since heard back from both Harry Lumsden and Bev Kingdon that this is a record for them!

Asking for more specifics on 902, I learned that this huge family had already been reported at the other end of our lake nine days earlier. 902 is the male and was caught by Bev on January 10, 2007, to be tagged and banded at LaSalle Park in Burlington. Last year 902 and his bride were blessed with two cygnets, a male and a female, and they continue to winter at LaSalle Park with a couple of hundred other Trumpeter Swans. Seeing this many Trumpeter Swans together each winter is one of my favorite birding rituals and I highly recommend the trip to Burlington to anyone who hasn't seen, or rather heard this amazing spectacle before.

Here's the link for more information on the Trumpeter Swan Program at Wye Marsh:

http://www.wyemarsh.com/conservation/swans.php

Here are some more photos of the cygnets:

It was amusing to observe their massive bodies wobble back and forth in the water as they stirred up the mucky bottom of the swamp with their webbed feet, then dunk their heads underwater to feed:

This beautiful family spent the entire day in our mucky little swamp, and I returned again around dinner time to see them all settled in on the far side, but in fact they departed just before sunset:

To date, this "902" family has not returned, but last week-end Brenda wrote to report a sighting of two more Trumpeters there, tagged as H80 and H86. I immediately forwarded the data on to Bev, who informed me that by some amazing coincidence, these two swans are last year's male and female cygnets of 902!

Huh, how cool is that??!!

Double Trouble in the Park

2011-10-03T10:04:00.000-04:00

Ann and I always seem to get into trouble no matter what (well, according to her, it's apparently me more than her), and the week-end that began on Friday, September 16th was no exception. Still totally pumped by our Moosing ~~mis~~adventures from the day before in Algonquin, I made a quick run back home to Whitby early the next morning to drop off the puppinksies with Robert for the week-end so Ann and I could return back up to the park for an overnight stay.

The first misadventure of the trip was all on me, as I stormed out of ~~the least efficient Timmie's in North America~~ the ~~monopoly~~ only Timmie's in Bobcaygeon without Ann's paid-for bagel order, after standing in line for twenty minutes and not moving an inch. Hey, at least I had the coffee! This being the very same Timmie's that set Ann's sandwich order on fire right before our very eyes two days before, I kid you not, need I say more??!!

What is it with Timmie's up north? And what about the Minden Timmie's, how slow was that one?? It was so slow that after sitting in the drive-through for ten minutes and barely moving, I had time to get out of the car, go inside for a bio break, return back to the car that was still waiting in the drive- through, and be able to even change my order as we had still not yet arrived at the order window. I could have flown over to the newly-opened Timmie's restaurant in Dubai and done better, grrrrrrrrr.

But enough of my rant, back to the park! Before arriving at the West Gate to the park, we swooned over this landscape, made all the more interesting by distant gunshots, nooooooooooo:

We safely arrived at Algonquin in the early afternoon...

...and hoping for a repeat performance of the Moose sightings from the day before, we immediately headed back to the trail and learned that what we had experienced the day before was probably a once-in-a-lifetime event, as no Moose were to be found anywhere. However, Ann jumped ten feet in the air when this lil fellow scooted across the trail in front of her:

Our find of the day was a small flock of Boreal Chickadees that tortured us with their raspy calls as they flitted in and out of the evergreens, and for the next few days they continued with this annoying behaviour to ensure we were unable to get any decent photos of them. We also ran into Angie and Rob on the trail, who were pleased that we shared our special find with them!

Other than that, it was very quiet on both the birding and critter front, so instead we aimed our cameras at the beautiful landscapes as the late-day lighting was beginning to change:

Rugged walls of rock revealed contrasting colours...

...but it was the autumn reflections of Algonquin in the water that mesmerized us both:

Floating away:

Aquatic brushstrokes:

A pleasant drive along Opeongo Road at dusk completed our visit to the park for the day, as we wanted to drive back to the motel in daylight.

Our next misadventure for the trip was at the motel check-in, only to discover that our reservations had been bungled up by the new owners. Frustrated by their lack of accountability, initiative, customer service and problem-solving skills, I frantically called around for other accommodations (from my cell phone, that is, as there were no phones in the room. "Free WiFi" was only available from the main building, the list went on and on) while Ann successfully practised her negotiating skills with the on-duty staff for a full refund.

But by now of course it was pitch black out, and trust, me driving along Highway 60 in the dark, when sections of it are under construction with no lines to guide you, when you just know that at any moment, any number of critters could possibly jump out in front of you, this was not a fun time ~~as well as the only time we ever prayed to not see critters!!!~~

But we safely made it to our cozy new motel whose compassionate owners stayed open late to await our arrival, and it turned out to be the best place in the end. We had an excellent stay there, and their sincere friendliness and hospitality more than made up for the stress caused by the other motel.

We were thrilled to see the view of Spring Lake from our room the next morning at daybreak, as the gorgeous autumn colours were muted by the mist rising off the lake:

We decided then and there that we needed more time in the park, so we extended our stay, after enjoying a fabulous hearty breakfast with fellow birders Bill and Margaret.

Although we dipped on the Moose again, the scenery more than made up for it (well, not really, but what choice did we have??). Another reflection shot:

My new favorite place in the province:

A first year male Spruce Grouse was a special treat to see on the side of the road, I've only ever seen the adults in Algonquin:

This was also a year bird for me, as we dipped on it during the OFO outing back in April:

A Great Blue Heron was in this tiny pond each and every time we drove by it:

And more tranquil landscapes to enjoy:

Along Opeongo Road I saw my first ever Pine Marten, and even though it was a really brief glimpse, it was still enough of a view to properly identify it. We returned to the main highway, and just for fun decided to see if Ann's CAA membership was current (it was). We also learned that Bell kicked Rogers' butt when it came to cell phone reception in Whitney, c'mon guys, what's up with that?? We also learned that there is extremely limited access to a car mechanic, even on a Saturday. We also learned that if one drives a noisy car long enough, the rock that was picked up along the way on one of the back roads will eventually be spewed back out onto the highway. ~~Each and every time Ann and I have gone to the park we encounter some sort of automotive malfunction (on Thursday's day trip visit, a warning light decided to act up on my vehicle).~~ Actually, I just made up this last part, just in case any family members are reading this, you can all calm down now, everything was just fine, as is always the case on our road trips!

That evening over another delicious home-cooked meal in the motel restaurant, we decided on one last attempt to see some Moose, but this time it would be at daybreak the following morning. So it was that we were up at 5:30 a.m., heading out on Highway 60 in the dark yet again, further aggravated by fog, no lines on the road, and worst of all, no coffee in us!! Another white knuckle drive by Ann got us to the area on time to see more morning mist on the water:

But imagine our surprise when this beautiful Red Fox kit briefly appeared in front of us, running into the bush at the side of the road, but then he came back out to the road, once we stopped the car:

This was the closest ever that I had been to one in the wild, and certainly the healthiest. Most of the Red Foxes that come into the Toronto Wildlife Centre suffer from mange, so it was a pleasure to see such a healthy one:

What was not so good, though, was that he was begging almost like a dog would, so it was apparent that he was more accustomed to humans than was good for him. As I retrieved my tripod out of the car trunk, he waltzed around to the back of the car to watch me. He sat down, lay down, and checked us out for food, no doubt, but once he finally realized he was wasting his time on us, he left.

We continued on to the parking lot for our Moosing adventure, only to find several cars already there ahead of us, and any hopes of seeing wildlife was quickly dashed as it was a quite a large group of people on a nature walk where conversation took priority over critters.

We met up with Margaret and Barry, though, and had a splendid time together with them both. An adult male Spruce Grouse on the trail almost landed on Margaret's head when he took off, quite the close call for her! Ann and Barry stayed near the marsh while Margaret and I did our first work-out for the day as we hiked along the trail:

A heavy frost covered the grasses in the marshy areas:

The warmth of the sunlight was gradually burning off the mist:

It was still such a magical time of day in the park:

A Great Blue Heron warmed itself up....

...until it decided to move on:

Cedar Waxwings, Hooded Mergansers, and Northern Flickers were seen:

But still no Moose, so we headed over to Peck Lake Trail, as warblers had been seen in the parking lot, as well as Beavers and Common Loons out on the lake:

The 2.3 kilometre trail follows the shoreline of Peck Lake, with occasional lookout points:

As Ann and I made our way around the lake, towards the end of the trail we ran into Margaret again, and she immediately showed us where she had seen the young Common Loon out on the water. Sure enough, there it was, a gorgeous young bird, very close to the shoreline, slowly swimming back and forth right in front of us, but every so often it was frantically shaking its head, and we could see something sticking up from its back. At first its behaviour reminded me of the Osprey head shake, but our joy quickly turned to horror when we realized what was really going on.

I take absolutely no pleasure in posting these next three photos, as this poor juvenile Common Loon was severely tangled up in fishing line.

The fishing lure/hook is caught on its lower back, but the fishing line is wrapped around its lower beak and tongue. The fishing line can be seen on the left side of its neck:

One of its calmer moments between frantic "untangling" attempts:

There are times when one just has to do something versus nothing.

After making several phone calls while keeping a watchful eye on the Loon (once again, those nerdy walkie talkies saved the day!), Ontario Parks staff eventually arrived to make a rescue attempt, but in vain. Common Loons are one of the most challenging species to rescue, as they're excellent divers and swimmers. Calls were also made to both the Muskoka and Toronto Wildlife Centres, as well as another organization called "A Wing and a Prayer".

Since that day as part of our follow-up, I have contacted a few other private individuals for their expertise to help save this poor Loon, and in fact a second rescue attempt was made a few days later, also in vain. We continue to monitor the lake for the Loon's presence, sadly with no luck so far, although I'm returning back up there again tomorrow for another look and will notify the Muskoka Wildlife Centre accordingly.

Our sincere thanks and gratitude go to everyone who has helped out with this very sad situation, including Margaret (who not only located the bird for us, but she and her husband Barry stayed behind with Ann and I until the Ontario Parks staff arrived), and all of the wildlife organizations and concerned individuals (Justin, Chris, and Andrew) that have given us encouragement and support.

To quote Justin, it's truly sad that a Loon can still haunt us, not just by its call...

It was an upsetting way to wrap up our visit to Algonquin, but it was now time for us to return to the cottage in the Kawarthas before it got dark, so with heavy hearts we hit the road.

A quick stop at the Osprey nest on our way home cheered us up a bit (LEE: this is not an imminent pooparazzi shot!):

One of the babies flies overhead while the other one gives him the ~~hairy~~ feathery eyeball, can't they just get along, already??

...still keeping it in its sight:

It finally settles down:

Ann left for home the next morning, both of us being physically and mentally fried from the past few days together, but particularly because of the distressing Loon encounter.

As always, though, there were lots of shared adventures, misadventures, and in general, plain insanity. I haved since named ourselves "The Cuckoo and The Loon", who knows what our next adventure will be!

'Twas a Few Good Days...

2011-10-02T13:49:00.000-04:00

...to stay off the Kawartha roads mid-September, as Ann and I were on the tear upon her arrival back up at the cottage on Tuesday the 13th.

It was already late-day with overcast weather conditions, so our one and only stop was of course at the Osprey nest:

Increasing tension still remained between the two babies, as their scrapping and skirmishes continued:

One of them finally caved and moved out of the nest to a branch for a time-out:

Twenty minutes later, dad did a food drop and the successful recipient took off with its fresh meal...

...but returned a bit later as the clouds began to clear out:

The cooling- off period hadn't worked, as the two of them soon began scrapping again:

Kudos go to Ann as well, as one of her shots from this intense interaction came in first for the second year in a row in the Friends of the Osprey photo contest, congrats, Ann!

The pair eventually separated and we were serenaded by The Whiner...

...but another food drop by dad a while later meant a hasty exit from the nest by the winning baby:

On Wednesday we stayed local, beginning the morning down at the swamp where the warblers were few and far between, perhaps because of this Sharp-shinned Hawk:

The brilliant green of this amazing Common (why call this beauty common??) Green Darner caught my eye, and I particularly like the bull's eye pattern on the top of the face, double-click on the photo to see it better. This is either a female or young male I draw the line at further examination ;-) :

A quick stop at the Osprey nest was unexpectedly quite stressful for both Ann and I, as one of the babies flew perilously close to the busy road as it decided on a different tree to land in:

It landed there safely with the remnants of its meal, so we quickly left so it could finish eating in private:

The rest of the afternoon was spent driving around country back roads (see? We warned everyone to stay off the roads!) and although it was fairly quiet, we did see a Red Fox, American Kestrels, and these Blue-winged Teal:

As it turned out, this was one of the marshes that Ann and I had been to during the Kawarthas Christmas Bird Count in late- December, so it was nice to stumble upon it again under much warmer conditions!

Perhaps our best bird of the day was a Red-shouldered Hawk that we spotted in a woodlot, this is a ~~garbage~~ record shot only, it can only get better from here, it's dead centre in the photo, coming in for a landing, red shoulders visible and all!

One only has to go to the local dump if one needs a tick for the day for Turkey Vultures:

The "No Scavenging" sign was apparently the tossed gauntlet for these Turkey Vultures:

We had hoped for some Bald Eagles, even just one (!!!), but no luck. There were some Common Ravens in the area, but mostly just TV's, how many can you see in this tree???

Others were flying right at us at times.

To quote Monty Python: "I'm not dead yet!":

On our way back to the cottage, we saw the Osprey dad continue with his enabling behaviour as another food drop was made:

Dad makes a quick exit while the baby chomps down on the meal:

In the end it was a quiet day for Ann and I, so we made an early night of it back at the cottage as the following day meant an early start to Algonquin, and you already know how that day turned out!!

http://janicesbirdingblog.blogspot.com/2011/09/moose-encounters-of-omg-kind.html

My next post will be of the return overnight trip to Algonquin, stay tuned!

Straggler Catch-up: Warbler Hell was Upon Me

2011-09-30T19:57:00.000-04:00

Back to the reality of my cottage critters before Ann's arrival on September 13th: today I find myself back in Warbler Hell, but it's a ~~kill me~~ ~~shoot me now~~ welcome break from scary Moose and whining Osprey. Well, not quite re the Osprey, but at least this post has some other goodies in it for a change, beginning with our resident Otter who made another one of his visits at dawn off the dock, he was actually snorting when he came up out of the lake with a crayfish in tow:

My ~~spidergirl~~ friend Laura called me about this beautiful Monarch Butterfly chrysalis she found on her garage door. Look carefully and you will see the orange and black wings!

I returned a few days later to find it gone, but did find this Monarch Butterfly in all its glory nearby:

On Friday, September 9th, I inadvertently entered Warbler Hell while taking a walk along the back road towards the swamp, beginning with this first year male Common Yellowthroat:

It seemed like only the young ones were out and about, always intrigued by the sound of my camera (and not put off by my groans as I struggled to identify them). This young male Black-throated Green's wobbly song was a dead giveaway, though, he would need to put some more effort into that for the gals, as acrobatic moves on their own just won't cut it:

A first year male Magnolia Warbler was a pleasant surprise:

By Golden Hour on the Saturday night, I was twitching for the Osprey nest, so off I went and while watching the babies, what is either a Song or a Swamp Sparrow landed on the wire fence next to me. I'm going with a Song, thanks to Master John as he's got more years of experience than I, plus the angle of the shot is limiting any other field markings:

Meanwhile, up in the nest, one of the Osprey babies was snoozing in the sunshine:

...and he's out cold, head drops down, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz:

But not for long, as this one made his way over to one of their preferred spots in time for Golden Hour:

Early the next morning, after this gorgeous sunrise...

...a silent but curious young male Rose-breasted Grosbeak watched me from above along the back road towards the swamp:

And yup, again that night I found myself back at the nest at the Golden Hour, observing a gagging Osprey:

...a fluffy Osprey:

...a regal Osprey:

...a headless Osprey:

...and an itchy Osprey (can you begin to imagine what this would look like if those talons scratched out an eye??? Major OUCH!) :

By the morning of Monday, September 12th, I had been totally swallowed up by Warbler Hell. I'm only just now reviewing my photos today to identify these suckers, and granted, some were readily identifiable on the same day (wow, what a difference a year makes!), but others were still a challenge, and I even discovered some new species that I'd missed as my eyes no doubt glazed over them all.

So here goes, in order of appearance that day down at the swamp, wheeeee!

Not a warbler at all, grrrr, a $#%^ Warbling Vireo!

A first year female Northern Parula:

Yellow-rumped Warbler:

Cape May Warbler:

First fall female Yellow-rumped Warbler:

At times she was too close for me to focus on her!

A female adult Blackburnian Warbler, my surprise photo find of the day and a toughie, thanks to Master John for agreeing with me!

A first year male Black-throated Green Warbler, with its same wobbly song from before:

And lastly PHEW! , a handsome first year male Northern Parula:

It was time for me to retreat back to the comfort zone of the Osprey nest that night as I was exhausted by all of those warblers. I tried to stay away, I really did, but I only stayed for half an hour, but what an unusual time it was that evening! Both babies were quite feisty and irritable with each other:

Dad flew in with his usual Golden Hour food drop...

...and all hell breaks loose with the babies, more so than usual. The one on the right has won the fish fight:

As I was checking my camera settings, the babies got into yet another skirmish and I heard a loud "SNAP". I immediately feared that it was an injury to one of their wings, but in the end figured out it was a breaking branch in the nest. They were extremely snarky and aggressive towards each other so maybe the father was weaning them off his food drops to encourage them to do it themselves.

The baby eventually left the nest with the fish, making a brief fly-by around the area, and I fully expected it to land in one of their usual feeding trees. Instead it returned to the nest with the fish and stayed put, occasionally just looking at it, as the poor fish was still flapping around every so often. Here was proof that dad does not always remove the head for them, but the baby soon began to eat, putting the fish out of its misery.

With a tight grip on its meal, the baby Osprey fluffed itself up, I just love the beauty of these magnificent birds:

It continued to contemplate its next move with its meal, always wary of its hungry sibling up in the nest:

I left them alone for another day, but was thrilled to have seen different behaviour during this visit, as this was the first time that I had seen such nasty battles. Perhaps they were finally figuring out that it was time for them to part company and head south?

Moose Encounters of the OMG Kind

2011-09-23T15:45:00.000-04:00

A day trip to Algonquin with Ann on Thursday, September 15th will stay in my mind forever for various reasons, beginning with this beautiful early morning view of Little Silver Lake as we left the Kawarthas for Algonquin:

We arrived at the park in good time, fuelled by lots of caffeine:

Our first stop was along Arowhon Road, and the poster bird for the park put in its first appearance for us that day, those feisty Gray Jays:

The rugged scenery was breath-taking along the trail:

Birds were somewhat scarce, though, with lots of noisy blue Jays and Northern Flickers in the area, but a tail-pumpin' Palm Warbler was also seen along the way...

But not to worry, our target critter for this trip was...

During our miserable wintry OFO trip back in April, we had failed to see any Moose along the highway, so we were determined to see one (only one, please, that's all we asked for!!) on this trip. The signs of their presence was everywhere, though, as fresh prints were on the trail...

...as was fresh poop:

Ann attempts to hide her tears of disappointment that we've not yet seen one:

But our luck quickly changed as she spotted a Moose on the far side of a marsh as we made our way back along the trail! At precisely 12:16 p.m., this young male bull silently grazed at the water's edge, what a magnificent creature!

And off he goes into the woods, two minutes later at 12:18 p.m.:

Ann and I were thrilled beyond words, we both thanked the Moose gods for smiling down upon us that day, whoohooo!!! The timepiece gods momentarily smiled down on me as well, but sadly only for a brief moment :-(

We made our way back to the main highway looking for any other critters along the way, including this swimming Beaver:

But it was the landscape views in the park that we enjoyed the most after the Moose sighting, as the crisp, clean air and blue skies dominated the day:

But we also had obligations back at the cottage, so on a whim we decided to go back to the marsh where the moose had been seen for one last possible look for him. After all, it was late-afternoon, with not too many other people around, and also a good feeding time for them, so off we went.

I had secretly timed the walk from the parking lot back to the marsh, so knew it would take me less than seven minutes to arrive there. Ann wanted to remain behind at the parking lot to play with the Gray Jays some more, so it was decided that I would head off to the marsh solo. But ~~don't think we were total dummies~~ as we were knowledgeable and wise, outdoorsy types, I armed myself and Ann with those new geeky walkie talkies from Costco. That way, I could radio Ann to come join me if the Moose was still around ~~am I smart or what, huh??? I scare myself sometimes~~.

Here's what happened next:

4:09 p.m.: I leave for the marsh, with an ETA of 4:16 p.m. latest. Do a walkie talkie practice run with Ann, and all's good on that count.

4:10 p.m.: I'm flying along the trail on my mission to get to that marsh, and anyone who knows me well knows that I'm a speed demon when I walk on my own...

4:11 p.m.: I do a time check, and yup, am actually ahead of schedule to arrive at the marsh, probably only another four minutes to go as I'm making such good time. Then as I look up from my watch, ahead of me on the left hand side of the trail I see THIS:

4:11 p.m.: it's entirely possible that at this time, a few OMG's, along with few other ~~totally inappropriate words~~ choice words came out of my mouth. What the heck, he was supposed to be in the marsh, not right on the TRAIL.

4:12 p.m.: My photographer instinct to "get-the-shot-before- it-disappears" dwindled (although my shaking did not). Common sense finally prevailed and I radio'd Ann back at the parking lot, telling her in a frantic whisper that "the #$^& moose was right on the trail."

4:13 p.m.: Still NO ANSWER from Ann. I'm gonna die alone. But at least when they recover my camera card, they'll know that I was trying different camera settings to get the best shot!

4:14 p.m.: I finally see Ann coming towards me, scurrying along the trail, phew! She arrives and I feel better already.

4:16 p.m.: (the time I was supposed to have arrived at the marsh!) We both photograph this young male Moose as he continues to calmly graze and wander out of sight off the path, but then he wanders back out onto it, always just a smidge closer to us. We're also doing the same, moving in a bit closer as he really didn't seem particularly concerned about us.

4:17 p.m.: Our little cream puff checks us out. I had no idea how shaken up I was at the time ~~LIAR, you know exactly how scared you were!!!~~ until editing my photos, only to find that not one of them was even close to straight, my heart was racing and the adrenaline was pumping!

4:18 p.m.: Closer and closer we all get to one another....

4:19 p.m.: To our ~~horror~~ delight, we realize that there are, in fact, TWO young bulls on the trail, but if you double-click on these next two photos, the second one can be seen through the leaves on the right hand side of the first one, but at the time that I took these photos, I hadn't even seen him yet!!

4:19 p.m., a few seconds later: Both are revealed, OMG OMG OMG:

4:22 p.m.: They now both continue to meander back and forth, in and out of the bushes on both sides of the trail, getting closer and closer to us. But now they're messing with us, as only one is visible- huh. We wonder where the other one is....

4:23 p.m.: Suddenly both have come back out to the middle of the trail, almost as if they've gone off in the bushes to consult with each other...

4:24 p.m.: We have no photographic proof of what happened next, but suffice it to say that we saw both of these magnificent beasts (whose shoulder height runs at about seven feet) slowly turn to face us head on, and begin to break into a TROT straight at us.

Ann and I both learned about the "fight or flee" instinct. Opting for the latter while screaming "we're gonna die", "start the car, start the car!!", we indeed made it safely back to the car, only to look back to see these two bulls chuckling away to themselves, but they were also apparently disappointed that their ruse to see human scat on the trail failed.

4:41 p.m.: My last view of one of them. Yeah, I know, I know, we were idiots to go back even for a moment, but they continued to graze along the trail.

This was one of the most exhilarating thirty minutes ever in my life that I'll never forget, and even now as I relive it again while writing this post and reviewing the pictures, my heart still races like mad. These sightings that day are even more special to me now as ~~I lived to tell the tale~~ Ann and I didn't have any more Moose encounters in the park.

Thank goodness, I say, as I really don't think we could have handled it! until the next time, that is

Just When You Hoped for an Osprey-free Post

2011-09-13T08:49:00.000-04:00

Hah, not yet, my friends!

On Friday, September 9th I had one of my closest encounters ever with the Osprey family, so we're not quite done yet with them. My morning visit found one of the babies working away at his piece of sushi:

Given the ~~freakishly sick and addictively high~~ amount of time that I've spent observing their behaviour (write a book already for BSC!), I learned a lot about Osprey that day. As soon as the baby begins to struggle with and have trouble handling and maneuvring its prey when there's less and less of it to grab onto, it begins to whimper like a big wuss, poor baby!

Did you ever wonder if they eat even the tail of the fish?

Yes, indeedy, this baby sure does, down the hatch!

Most of the other photos that I took during that morning visit have since been deleted, as my return visit at the Golden Hour was one of my most memorable ones ever, as well as most stressful and graphic. As mentioned in an earlier post, these beautiful birds will be heading south soon, so when I go to the nest these days I expect nothing. And sometimes that's what I see there, nothing, no birds, no parents, NOTHING, nada, rien, zilch.

But on Friday evening, both babies were at the nest, but to my dismay, one of them looked a bit ruffled up:

Although the photos didn't show it, there were other dishevelled feathers on its right side, so my initial fears were that it had been grazed by a car. My camera was quickly replaced with my 18 x 50 binos to check it out, as well as to see how the baby was behaving. I didn't have to wait too long to see that it was fine, as dad made one of his hasty food drops and the babies went nuts:

The baby that successfully fought for the fish left the nest with it tightly clenched in its talons, so I heaved a sigh of relief that all was well. It sits panting in the heat in one of its preferred feeding trees:

...checking me out with those gorgeous amber eyes that I've already seen a colour change over the past few days:

The odd "underwing" feather (okfine, BSC will have nothing to do with me if I cannot even call it by its proper name!) had re-aligned itself when the baby took off from the nest, so that was a huge relief for me!

Meanwhile, back at the ~~ranch~~ nest, the other baby was just sitting there whining, trying to come up with a better strategy to get that fish the next time, so I lost track of where the winning baby was. Suddenly my peripheral vision kicked in and by a total fluke, I spotted him further up the road flying into a dead tree (and no, he did not hit the tree ;-) ) , this being a brand new eating spot for him, so off went the Car Lady to watch him enjoy his meal.

He paid me no heed, so I quietly pulled in quite close to him and began taking more photos. It was only when I was checking my camera settings that I realized it was in fact THE FATHER and not the baby! The adults are far more skittish than the babies and usually immediately fly off when approached, but this guy had other things on his mind- and under his talons.

WARNING GRAPHIC CONTENT: the following contains medieval-like scenes of extreme graphic content, incuding blood, guts, gore, made all the worse when you know that the fish was still alive and thrashing around:

Yes, it was sadly at this point that I saw the fish still squirming:

As I'm watching him continue the slaughter, I'm also hearing a cuckoo calling in the background, I was far too focused on this close encounter with the Osprey dad to pursue the cuckoo. Then again, the irony of this was not lost on the ~~cuckoo~~ Car Lady ;-)

The other background noise was that of the two babies constantly whimpering for this fresh meal to be delivered to them back at the nest!

He takes a chomp, but all the while is totally aware of his surroundings, constantly looking around:

Yum, most of the head is gone now as his meal prep for the babies' food drop is almost complete:

And off he goes to the nest with the remnants of the fish, directly over my car:

I could not believe my good fortune to have been so close to an adult, BEST TIME EVER!!!

So this was the winning baby with its fresh meal:

Struggling with the tail again...

...good to the last bite:

Another new observation for me that day was the post-meal beak and talon cleaning, it was time to get rid of all of that blood, guts, and fish slime, I suppose. Even though the next three images appear to all look the same, if you double-click on them you'll see how the baby is rubbing its beak back and forth on the branch as well as its talons:

The baby returns to the nest and they continue to whimper and beg for more:

But it was time for me to leave, so I went to turn the car around up the road, only to find Father Osprey in the very same tree as before, merrily eating away again on a fresh catch. I literally groaned out loud, but of course stayed another thirty minutes watching him as he gleefully ate more of the fish this time before delivering it to the nest full of begging babies:

WARNING GRAPHIC CONTENT: the following contains medieval-like scenes of extreme graphic content, incuding blood, guts, gore, but this time at least the fish was mercifully dead:

Dad has a piece of fish skin in his beak...

...but decides the juice ain't worth the squeeze to swallow it, so let's it drop:

Hannibal Dad says: "Got Chianti?"

Constantly on the look-out while eating (unlike the babies when they eat, I might add!), the only threat he had to his meal was numerous flies that surrounded him. I've also learned that not always does the father do the head removal as part of the meal prep, as the fish has been delivered whole on other recent food drops I've seen:

As members of the Pooparazzi Club well know: they eat, they poop. End of story.

And off he goes to the nest with the remnants, straight over my car again!

Dad is certainly a good provider to his babies in such a short period of time! Mom hasn't been seen for a few weeks now, so I suspect she's already left on her southern journey.

And so ended my phenomenal Golden Hour evening at the nest with not only both babies, but also dad, an unexpected treat, as well as my closest encounter ever with an adult. What an amazing night that I'll never forget, especially when I expected to see nothing!

Juanita's Cottage Nerdfest and Other Goodies

2011-09-10T13:21:00.000-04:00

On Monday, August 29th, eleven intrepid nerders and entoes (look that one up, my normal friends!) joined me at the cottage for a day of chasing chasing pretty much anything with wings, including birds, butterflies, dragonflies, house flies, fruit flies, deer flies, tsetse flies, etc, etc, you get the idea!

Although bird numbers were low, sadly, there were lots of insects to be found, the highlight of which (for me, at least) was a Giant Swallowtail that gracefully floated by the front of the cottage during lunch. Based on the loud shrieks made by my guests, I gather that this was indeed a rare event, so many thanks to Skip for hauling me out of the kitchen to catch a fleeting glimpse of it, it was huge!

A Leopard Frog in the back swamp was so well camouflaged, it was almost impossible to detect:

A Shadow Darner out of the shadows:

In the morning and afternoon, I shared my favourite birding spots with the gang, and eventually lunch (but apparently not soon enough for Doug ;-) ). Hopefully my desserts made up for the lack of birds, here's a photo of ~~some beached whales~~ the gang:

I continued looking for new birds during the rest of the week, and did fairly well in the end. Wednesday's sunrise from the dock was another keeper:

I decided to explore some new back roads outside of Bobcaygeon, discovering some new spots to check out in the future:

Just north of this area, a first year male American Redstart was not only a good find, but a very cooperative subject as well, the sound of my camera shutter drew him in closer and closer:

At the end of the day, we enjoyed a dramatic sunset:

As changing (NOOOOOOOOO) temperatures began to set in on Friday, September 2nd, a misty sunrise greeted us:

The Pileated Woodpecker pair that I had semi-promised my nerding guests on Monday was sadly a no-show that day, and I have since learned that one of our neighbours considered stirring the pot by telling us that an Ivory-billed Woodpecker had just been seen on The Point. Yeah, right ;-)

On Friday morning, though, the Pileated pair tortured me yet again with their jungle calls all along The Point, so as usual, I could be found stalking them for a good ninety minutes in my jammies along the back road. The female was doing major excavation work high up in a tree:

...and as she worked her way around to the back of the tree and came back into view again, I continued to take photos of her, then suddenly realized not only a size difference, but also that unmistakable red mustache belonging to a male! Finally, a photo of a male, whoohoo!

I was also pleased to see at least three Merlins in the same area, this being the first time in several weeks that I had seen or heard any evidence of them since they were screaming killing machines earlier in the season.

On Saturday, September 3rd, the female Belted Kingfisher finally succumbed to my stalking her for weeks on end (and no, I did not wade over to that perch and put fish on it!!):

It was so hot in the sun that she was panting:

And so ended the unofficial last week of the summer for me!

Tough Love

2011-09-08T22:38:00.000-04:00

What may have been my last serious photo shoot for the year with the two Osprey babies was on the evening of Friday, August 26th, but the sunrise that day at The Point was spectacular:

Seizing the moment when Robert went for one of his marathon kayaking sessions, I spent the Golden Hour at the nest.

On my way up to the highway, though, as always I checked one of the distant trees where our local Osprey chill during the day and was surprised to see not only an Osprey, but a Turkey Vulture as well! This is not the best shot, but is a good size comparison shot of both species. On the left is the Osprey which looks like the size of a songbird next to the Turkey Vulture!

I arrived at the nest to find both crybabies present and for the next few hours I watched and listened to them whine, beg, cry, act out, stretch, wail, beg, whine, shriek, and cry. And cry. And cry. Other than that, they were total slugs, as neither parent brought any food to them in the end, poor babies!

At first the baby on the branch was well-behaved....

...but then it began:

No answer from the parents:

Time to stretch out that wing:

...and the wailing starts up again:

...and continues:

...and so on:

When all else fails, it's time for some wing stretches:

...but that doesn't bring in food either:

Now it's time for a power nap, there's no sign of the parents whatsoever...

...and finally it packs it in and takes off:

Now my attention switches over to the other baby who has been a slug in the nest all this time, providing back-up vocals for its sibling, along with some head-banging moves:

But back to the begging calls:

It was time for me to leave them for the night, as it was heart-breaking for me to watch them for perhaps the last time together for this year. Was this tough love method how the parents force them to provide for themselves? Probably.

Our local hawk watches have already started up for the season, and adult Osprey are now on the move south, and these babies won't be too far behind them. Even over the past two weeks I've noticed fewer Osprey in the Kawarthas area, and any recent visits to the nests have come up empty as well. Hey, what was that, yet another collective sigh of relief from you all again??!!

I already miss these two quirky characters that I've spent so many incredible ~~weeks~~ ~~days~~ hours with. I've watched them grow so quickly to be the same size as their parents.

I've watched them fight over food drops, mantle, wingercise, branch, chatter, beg, cry, insanely spin their heads around, and poop and then some!!!

I've watched them finally and safely fledge, and watched them expand their territory each time I've returned to their nest.

I wish them a safe journey to perhaps South America, and hope that perhaps they'll even return back here to the Kawarthas next year!

See, admit it, you miss them already too!!! ;-)