By my count, this preening merganser hen had two dozen chicks (23 here, but one had dived). Normally, a hen lays from 6 to 17 eggs, more commonly between 8 and 12. I had previously seen a brood with 19 chicks, but this crowd was a first. Are all these chicks hers? Might other hens have laid their eggs in her nest?
While Clark’s Nutcrackers are occasionally seen at lake level, they prefer subalpine forests where they (mainly) eat the seeds found in the cones of evergreens. I wouldn’t have known where to look, but Derek Kite drove me twenty kilometres up a steep logging road and, after seeing nothing along the way, nutcrackers appeared in a clearcut at an altitude of about 1700 metres. There were dozens of them feasting and flying from tree to tree.
Usually seen at a distance, this nutcracker came close enough for a portrait.
Never on one perch for long, each bird soon flies off.
Nutcrackers are monogamous and the relationship even involves mutual feeding.
The nutcracker’s diet even extends to small mammals. 
We have two waxwings, nicely separated by seasons. The Bohemian Waxwing visits in the winter (see last November’s bohemian invasion). Consequently, we are unlikely to see it nest around Kootenay Lake. The Cedar Waxwing arrives in the summer, nests and raises chicks.
A small flock of Cedar Waxwings was seen on Wednesday, but rarely did any of them pose for a picture.
A female was seen building a nest, a task that takes most of a week and a few thousand trips ferrying in material.
The Ruffed Grouse is low on the food chain. A wide range of predators—hawks, owls, coyote, humans—find it tasty. Maybe only a tenth of these grouse makes it past its first year.
A recent posting, staring contests, explored the differences in vision of one prey (deer) and two predators (human, eagle). Even a casual observation of yesterday’s Ruffed Grouse revealed it to be prey.
This first picture was taken a year ago: a coyote finishing off what is most likely a Ruffed Grouse. Its tastiness clearly presents this bird with its biggest problem. Note the forward facing eyes of this predator. 
Yesterday’s grouse was foraging beside a back road where the vegetation is more suited to it than the deep forest. That the grouse is prey is immediately evident from the position of its eyes on the sides of its head. This enables the bird to detect a predator over a very wide angle of view.
Just how wide an angle it can monitor becomes clear with a view of the back of its head. The eyes are still visible. The grouse can probably see everything around it—front, sides and back—although its vision directly behind is probably limited to detecting motion.
Bank Swallows are late migrants, so while other local swallows have chicks well underway, Bank Swallows are still preparing their nurseries. Still a month off is a view of chicks being fed as they peer from the openings.
The first thing seen was the frenetic activity of birds around the many holes in a sand bank.
Issuing from some of the cavities were plumes of debris as males excavate metre-long tunnels.
Females ferried in nesting material in preparation for chicks.
The activity of the Bank Swallows was extensive and frenetic. The bird in the lower left is carrying nesting material, and the bird above it seems to be trying to steal it. Others were coming from or going to their cavities.
In June, Mountain Goats look either shaggy or pristine: An adult sheds its winter’s coat; A kid sports fresh wool. 
I have photographed rainbows over the Lake from May to September, but the best ones seem to occur in June. This one appeared last evening. It isn’t quite as good as last year’s bow, in which a reflection of the low-sun bow completed the circle. However, June is not over yet.
A staring contest is a game in which an individual stares into another’s eyes and attempts to maintain unblinking eye contact for longer than the opponent.
It is the rare human who can win a staring contest with a White-tailed Deer. 
Yet, it is trivial matter to win a staring contest with a Bald Eagle.
I was reminded of this curiosity in the last few days when I had two really close encounters with deer. The result of the contests was: deer 2, human 0. Why is there such a difference between deer, humans, and eagles? It probably comes down to the differences in their eyes.
The greatest spacial and colour resolution takes place in the eye’s fovea. The numbers are:
• Eagle: 1,000,000 retinal cells per mm2 , 4-colour vision;
• Humans: 200,000 retinal cells per mm2, 3-colour vision;
• Deer: 40,000 retinal cells per mm2, 2-colour vision.
Consider the eagle: its vision is much better than that of a human. It easily assesses a human as neither predator nor prey. Consequently, it quickly shifts its gaze elsewhere.
Consider the deer: it isn’t trying to outstare you; indeed, it isn’t really sure you are there. The deer’s (daytime) vision is sufficiently poor that it freezes as it tries to decide if there is a threat. If it cannot smell you (the wind is in the wrong direction), it takes its time assessing this possibly new feature in its environment. If the human does not move, and its colours blend well with the surroundings, the deer might as well not waste energy by bolting, but rather return to browsing.
This White-tailed Deer was seen in the same area as the doe, above, but a day earlier. We stared at each other as my camera clicked away. Apparently, deer have yet to evolve an understanding of digital photography.
Flicker chicks have hatched. Now, both parents spend their days foraging for insects, swallowing them, returning to the nest, and regurgitating into a chick’s mouth.
“It’s about time you returned. We are hungry.”
“Me first.”
“Look what Daddy brought you.”
“Enjoy.”
When it comes to styles of parenting, local birds run the gamut: Sometimes neither parent takes any interest in its chicks (Cowbirds); Sometimes only the female does (hummingbirds); Sometimes only the male does (Spotted Sandpiper); Sometimes both do (Osprey).
The male Common Merganser is a member of the love-’em-and-leave-’em school of avian parenting. After chicks leave the nest in summer, the female stays with them as they grow up while males head off in gangs.
At this time of year, mommy merganser and her chicks (some riding on her back) are a welcome sight.
Meanwhile, the males have gone off on their own. The noisy one in the back looks as if he is already moulting out of his breeding plumage—females are no longer an interest of his.
