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.
I was watching two Spotted Sandpipers. Each seemed to be taking a considerable interest in the other. Then…,
The female crouched, lifted her tail, the male landed upon her, wrapped his tail beneath hers, and they mated.
After a brief disengagement, they mated again.
Abruptly, she lurched forward; he fell off her back. She dropped her tail and lifted her wings to prevent his return.
It might be imagined that she was rebuffing an oppressor. Yet, I suspect the truth is rather different. The female Spotted Sandpiper is polyandrous—she mates with many males. She willingly mated with this one. Her subsequent rejection is likely her way of saying: “I now move on to my next lover; You’ve had your turn.” 
This is a stew made of photographic ingredients that didn’t merit individual postings.
This disheveled-looking bird is probably a House Finch.
A male White-tailed Deer was browsing along the lakeshore.
And then there was a (garter) snake in the grass.
This was the first Mourning Dove I have seen. It flew off within a moment.
A Tree Swallow flew right towards me.
Last year, this eagle’s nest produced two chicks. I wonder what it holds this year.
This muskrat seems to be a regular visitor.
A female Osprey is still bringing twigs to its nest, while others are already sitting on eggs.
There is a rule that you cannot have too many pictures of an osprey in flight—or at least there should be.
At this time of year, one can always play the cute card: Here is mommy mallard and her seven chicks.
Birds devote little time to mating. This sequence of four pictures showing Tree Swallows spanned two seconds.
The female Tree Swallow crouches low and lifts her tail as the male approaches.
He lands on her back as she spreads her cloaca.
The male wraps his tail under hers to align their cloacae. Each bird slightly everts its cloacal tissue.
Mating takes place with, what is known as, the cloacal kiss.
If a butterfly takes to the air, would it not be butterflying?
Well, that is my semantic position and I am sticking to it. Especially, as I am seeking to do a better job of taking pictures of small flyers in the air (see, flying birds, swallow love & war).
With its proboscis partially unscrolled, a Pale Swallowtail Butterfly flies toward a source of nectar. I was struck by the position of the legs which are tucked up behind its head in a manner I had previously seen with dragonflies.
A Western Tiger Swallowtail Butterfly is about to visit a lilac.
It is May and the shore along the Lake is filled with birds. Some are wading, some floating, some flying. It is the flying ones that are the most difficult to photograph—they are usually fast and distant. Yesterday, I had three modest successes in taking detailed pictures of flying birds.
A male Hooded Merganser and his son flew low enough over the water to have a good reflection.
Although this Cliff Swallow was in the sunlight, it was against a very dark background.
As I was trying to take pictures of Cliff Swallows, a female Osprey landed behind me. Shooting quickly, I did not realize that it was banded until I examined the pictures later.
I don’t always look at the contents of my camera’s memory card immediately. Having taken pictures of things around me, I quickly move on. Yet, now and then, things I thought were dross, turn out well. Here are a few from recent days.
This Song Sparrow sang vigorously, then looked at me as if to say: “This is my reality.”
Insects are notoriously difficult to photograph in flight. Success is often the result of happenstance, as was the case of this Hover Fly approaching some Deer Brush.
I have only seen a female Common Merganser alight atop a piling during spring. Why are they there? On this occasion, the merganser’s presence was challenged by a European Starling, which probably had a cavity nest lower in the piling. The merganser is still quacking towards where the starling was as it approached.
A Huntsman Spider was doing the huntsman thing of hanging around bark waiting to pounce on insects at night.
When I see White-tailed Deer along the shore, they are usually doe. But here was a buck. He has just started on this year’s antlers. It will be many months before they are ready to be used to contest a doe.
Doug Thorburn, that indefatigable wanderer of local mountains, sent me these two pictures of a grouse he saw this last week when he tracked down the sound of drumming. The trouble is, I cannot tell what it is. The head looks like a Dusky, while the breast and wings look more like a Spruce.
Can anyone settle the question?
Summer arrives
You know summer has arrived when you see both a Western Tiger Swallowtail Butterfly and a Spotted Sandpiper.
Don’t be mislead by media automatons that parrot a claim about an official start of any season. That claim is nonsense. Summer is a meteorological event, the timing of which changes with location, not some fixed astronomical event. Further, no official ever proclaimed that it begins on the date of the summer solstice—and why would anyone believe any official (or commentator) who did offer such a silly claim?
A Western Tiger Swallowtail Butterfly sips nectar from some lilacs.
A (female) Spotted Sandpiper patrols the water’s edge for delectables,
and finds a grub to swallow.
