Over recent months, I have shown this year’s young of many species from Tree Swallows to White-tailed Deer. Here are the young of two hawks: Osprey and Red-tailed Hawk.
A juvenile Osprey is still in the nest, but it is learning to fly by facing into the wind and flapping its wings.
This juvenile Red-tailed Hawk still seems to be trying to make sense of its new world.
It lifts off. Juvenile Red-tailed Hawks do not show a reddish tail for their first year.
For ingenuity and technical prowess, there are few exploratory projects around the Lake that can rival that of Derek Kite’s photography: He has set out to take pictures of bats. But, not just bats in a roost, but bats on the wing while hunting insects over the Lake at night.
This is like the proverbial problem of finding a black cat in a coal cellar, but with the added difficulty that the cat (the bat in this case) is not only unseen in the darkness, but is passing through the cellar at a high speed.
The bat banks as it swings around to capture an insect.
Derek Kite’s picture is used with permission.
At this time of the year, the delight is to see the newly born. Usually, the fawns are so well hidden as to be unobservable. Needless to say, seeing these two fawns of the White-tailed Deer in the tall grass was a treat.
When I was a child, I remember throwing handfuls of sand at these so as to down them.
I now consider the Shadow Darner (this is a male) to be one of the great delights of the late summer. They relentlessly patrol the shoreline for all manner of other flying insects and are voracious when encountering them.
How could anyone (other than a callow youth) not revel in the flight of a darner?
When I last saw this wren, it was called a Winter Wren; now it is called a Pacific Wren. The first observation was made before 2010, which was the time at which the Winter Wren was divided into two species and our western species was renamed the Pacific Wren. I have only seen this bird in older forests some 500 to a 1,000 meters above the Lake.
Seen flitting from one perch to another, a Pacific Wren divided its time between this rock face and a tree.
Here it is singing while perched on a tree. 
The River Otter treated my presence with surprising insouciance. I wasn’t standing far away as it chewed on its fishy breakfast in the light of dawn. It would sometimes look my way, but more-or-less ignored me.
I am otter; hear me roar. Actually, while otters chirp, growl and grunt, they don’t roar. It is probably just swallowing.
Around the Lake, there are five species within the deer family (the cervids): moose, elk, caribou, mule deer, white-tailed deer, but only the latter two have the word, deer, attached to their names. It was nice to see both deer on one day. Certainly, the white-tailed deer is common in the valleys, but the mule deer is usually only seen higher on the mountain sides.
The first deer spotted was a mule-deer buck. It is named for its large (mule-like) ears, but is perhaps more readily identified by its black-tipped rope-like tail. The antlers of this one are still in velvet. 
Then a white-tailed doe was spotted in my yard. After taking pictures and enjoying her company for a short time, we left her alone to browse.
When spotted again at twilight, it became clear that she was browsing for two.
This was the first time I had seen an eagle bathe and dry itself.
Last Friday, a number of eagles investigated a fish on the shore: an eagle infestation. Then, the fish was contested and eaten: eagle feast and fight. Finally, an eagle entered the water where it bathed and dried itself.
The eagle waded into the shallows and vigorously splashed water over itself.
It then twisted back and forth to shake off water as would an otter or a dog.
The drops flew as it continued twisting and shaking.
Next, the wings were flapped to evaporate water from the flight feathers.
With its flight feathers spread and waving, the wings are now nearly dry.
The time had come to dry the tail and leg feathers by jumping up and down.
Sated, clean and dry, the eagle flew off leaving only ephemeral marks on the water.
This story began with the posting called an infestation of eagles. It is continued here as eagles feast and fight. The final posting will show an aspect of eagle behaviour that was new to me.
Humans retreated and left the beach and fish to the eagles. Many eagles had taken an interest in the fish, but which one would get it? Not unexpectedly, it was the largest adult. Among raptors, females are larger than males, so it is probably a female who flew in and grabbed the fish (a sucker, from the look of it).
The eagle quickly set to tearing off bits of flesh and downing them.
Abruptly, the eagle hid its fish under its body and made agitated calls to something overhead.
This somewhat blurry shot shows the problem: a challenger for the prize.
The two eagles skirmished, but the first to arrive was larger and it prevailed.
The first (larger, female?) eagle triumphed. The challenger accepted the hierarchy and waited patiently for scraps. What happened next will be the substance of the next posting.
The skirmish picture (#5) was taken by Finn Grathwol and is used with permission.
