I really like the tranquility evinced by this picture of a Mountain Bluebird. But I didn’t initially bother to share it in a posting.
Didn’t bother, that is, until I abruptly needed it as an antidote to what I witnessed today at noon (next posting). So, enjoy the serenity while you can.
Common Loons spend the winter along the Pacific Coast. In spring they arrive at interior lakes to breed. Upon arrival they are at once friendly to partners, and highly aggressive to rivals.
The problem loons seem to have is: Which is which? To human eyes, both sexes look alike, and if last week’s observations are a guide, the loons, themselves, often seem unsure of who’s who.
This is a tale of three or four Common Loons coursing about on one of the lakelets of the West Arm of Kootenay Lake.
These two Common Loons had been swimming together for a while, and one occasionally displayed for the other. They seemed to be friends.
Farther out on the water, a lone loon had been swimming when another spotted it and landed nearby. They approached gingerly, apparently unsure of the identity of the other.
Abruptly the decision was made: foe. How each determined this was unclear to me.
Each backed away and reared up aggressively.
Each thought it could win, so the fight for supremacy began.
And continued.
One loon was losing and broke away.
The victor would not leave well enough alone and chased the loser back and forth across the water for another five minutes or so. Each bird planed. There was a great deal of energy put into the exercise before the vanquished loon ended it by flying off.
Elsewhere on the lakelet, these two were seen. I rather suspect that they were friends.
A year ago in planing waterbirds, I wrote about an uncommon behaviour of some swimmers.
When swimming across a water surface, water birds usually float. Called displacement mode, a bird is primarily supported by its buoyancy (static pressure). However, its swimming speed is constrained by the waves it makes to what is known as the hull speed (see, muskrat hull speed). To swim faster, a bird can either dive, or switch to planing mode.
In planing mode, a bird is primarily supported by the lift provided by the rush of water against its slightly tipped-up body (dynamic pressure). The problem is that for a bird (or boat) to plane requires not only much greater power, but also the right body (hull) shape. These things were explored in the essay.
While I knew that a Common Loon could plane, I hadn’t managed a picture of it until this last week. Present were all the characteristics (which are shared by planing boats):
• It travelled at a much greater speed than possible in displacement mode.
• The bird’s breast was lifted slightly allowing water to rush against a tipped-up body.
• The tail was pressed downward to mimic a boat’s sharp transition between hull and transom.
• The wake took the form of a rooster tail.
Other aspects of loon behaviour seen on this occasion will be explored in the next posting.
A Common Loon planes across the Lake.
A year ago (Tomfoolery), I watched as a female Wild Turkey was viewed with appreciation by two males. However, the two males were so obsessed by a concern for their rival’s attentions, that neither could attend to the female. It was odd; neither mated with her because each wished to block the other.
This situation seems to have been repeated with Red-winged Blackbirds.
This fetching female Red-winged Blackbird was hanging out in the vicinity of a couple of males.
Here are the two male Red-winged Blackbirds.
One male spent its time denouncing the other.
It then flew after the (imagined) interloper. But, the conflict meant that neither male mated. Odd.
Flowers seem to time their blooming to optimize their interaction with pollinators.
Two early spring bloomers were noticed today: a Glacier Lily and a Fairy Slipper (an orchid).
This is one of a large crop of Glacier Lilies strewn across the hillside.
There were only two Fairy Slippers that had bloomed already, but many buds were about to do so. In another week, they will have spread across the slope.
By being able to fly, birds have an unparalleled ability to move from place to place. But, can they carry luggage along with them?
Birds have few options: carry something with their feet; carry it in their bills or gullets. Alas, only some birds have bills or feet suitable for transporting things even a short distance. Raptors are perhaps the most versatile.
Yesterday I watched two different raptors fly material from one place to another.
This is a female Kestrel, and she is carrying a vole in her claws. She took it to a tree branch and ate it. On previous occasions, I have seen a Kestrel carry beetles and other birds in its bill when it was feeding its chicks.
This Osprey is doing double duty by carrying both a stick and a fish to its nest.
April has been a month of sparse postings, but not one of sparse observations.
This collection shows some of the sightings that did not have a posting of its own.
A male Pintail Duck wanders past.
The oversized bills of a mating pair of Northern Shovelers are evident.
There is tranquility in this scene of three Great Blue Herons.
This unfortunate Northern Flicker seems to have its head on backwards.
A Columbian Ground Squirrel pulls sentry duty.
Two Turkey Vultures soar over the lakeshore.
A pair of Wood Ducks (female, left; male, right) rests on a branch above the water.
It is nest-building time and this Osprey is bring a stick to the task.
A real treat was watching a Marsh Wren burst forth in song.
Now that the snow has vanished, fields have become the hunting ground of Mountain Bluebirds.
A Meadow Lark flies to meet a companion atop of a tree.
A Black-billed Magpie flies through the trees.
Defending itself after its arrest for defacing industrial property, this marmot feigned innumeracy.
The first Bumble Bee to be seen in any numbers is the Bombus bifarius. This one flew by on its way to collect pollen.
Early most springs, I post pictures of Bombylius major, for it is only at this time that one sees this interesting fly in one’s garden.
Abruptly, spring has arrived, and so has bombylius.
Although Bombylius major is a fly, it has the appearance of a bumble bee — a mimicry crafted to avoid being eaten by birds.
The reason bombylius only appears in the spring is that this is the time solitary bees temporarily leave their nests unprotected. Unlike the social bees, each solitary bee lays her own eggs and does so in a small tunnel she has provisioned with food such as nectar and pollen. She then seals the entrance.
However, for the short time it takes for a solitary bee to do this, the tunnel entrance is open and that is when the Bombylius fly enters and deposits its own eggs inside. When a bombylius larva emerges, it feeds on the provisions meant for the bee larvae. It then changes form and eats the bee larvae, themselves. Bombylius has only a short time in the spring to give its offspring this opportunity.
You have to do what you have to do.
The Bombylius fly looks like some fuzzy toy designed by a manufacturer of children’s toys. Its proboscis is long, and its wings are half black and half transparent.
When Bombylius major collects nectar, its long proboscis and its long legs allow it to avoid getting close to a flower — something that might contain a crab spider.
The Blue Jay is an uncommon resident around the Lake. Indeed, while others have seen one occasionally, today’s visitor to my home was the first one I have ever seen.
A Blue Jay stops by to help itself to seeds put out for a Steller’s Jay. It was skittish.
The Blue Jay then flew to a nearby tree and sat in the afternoon sunlight.
A smoking mountain might seem an odd topic during a wet spring. However, the title does not refer to a wildfire, but to the name of a weather phenomenon.
Sometimes a cloud streaming off the lee of a mountain has the appearance of smoke from a wildfire. This is most likely to be seen when: the mountain has a fairly sharp ridge line; there is a brisk wind flowing across the mountaintop; the valley on the lee is deep and the air in it is moist.
The wind flowing across the mountain top does not follow the terrain. The sharp mountaintop causes air to separate from the surface and carry on high above the valley. However, this wind drags air in the valley with it causing it to flow in the same direction. This, in turn, causes air to flow up the lee of the mountain. As the moist air is lifted, a cloud forms, giving the impression of smoke pouring off the mountainside.
Streamlines have been added to the picture to illustrate the wind: the air above the mountain top is flowing from right to left; on the lee side of the mountain, a cloud forms as the moist air is lifted. The cloud has the appearance of smoke from a wildfire. To see the picture without the streamlines, roll the cursor over the image (computer), or tap on the image (mobile device).
