It was the frenetic display of a feigned broken wing that signalled the unexpected nearness of a Killdeer’s nest. 
Indeed, a quick look around revealed four camouflaged eggs lying on the open ground.
I promptly retreated, the Killdeer relaxed and returned to its nest. Part of one egg is visible.
A month and a half ago, Miss Mallard put on a show for her intended. Her pole dance had the desired result.
From a distance, the specks were tiny, dark and moving. From closer, the specks became seven mallard chicks.
Mommy waited and the chicks caught up.
And they feasted together.
I assumed that after the variety of yesterday, I would lie low today, but then a muskrat stopped by.
Muskrats get a bad rap: They aren’t rats, they are large aquatic voles; They don’t attack swimmers, they are herbivores. I have probably seen this one a dozen times in the last month, but always partially submerged and during the twilight of dawn. Now, it was grazing on a dilapidated dock in the afternoon sun.
May is the month to watch for young males doing a walkabout in search of a nesting site of their own.
Each wants to find a place where there is a good supply of vegetation to eat. With luck, this one will stay around.
Nature watching has been bountiful in the last few days. In addition to the just posted toads in amplexus and the dipper chicks, some things seen were:
A Cliff Swallow peeking out of its nest;
A marmot contemplating (“You disparaged my vanity on your previous posting, but when I’m not sleeping, eating, or mating, I really am a contemplative fellow.”);
Goslings following their parents;
A Painted Turtle lazing in the Lake (The rest of us must wait for summer.);
An early season dragonfly perching (possibly a female Spiny Baskettail);
A close view of a Barrow’s Goldeneye Duck revealing its iridescent head;
A Black Bear grazing on dandelions (It did not like being watched.);
Nothing beat a coyote impudently walking with its back to the traffic flow, which stopped on the road and pooped.
Two weeks ago, I showed pictures of a dipper nest under a bridge. One shot showed the male feeding the female in the nest. The chicks have now hatched, which makes this a busy Mother’s Day.
Three hungry maws beg at the nest’s opening.
The brightly coloured gapes and mandibles of the chicks are believed to be a signal to and a target for the parents: Insert food here. The adult lacks this colouration (see the earlier posting). 
The adult obliges. Here it is carrying a grub in its bill and is about to insert it in the chick’s mouth. This goes on all day as both parents ferry food to their voracious progeny.
A froggy would a-wooing go.
Amplexus (embrace) refers to the mating position of frogs and toads, in which the male clasps the female about the back with his front legs. Sperm and eggs are released together and fertilization occurs externally.
Dozens of Western Toads were seen along the shore.
Then it became evident that they were mating: in the grass,
under water,
and at the water’s edge.
This is the season during which my camera asks if it might be allowed to stake out a hummingbird feeder. While earlier a Calliope had visited, today there was nothing but Rufous Hummingbirds, each fighting for control of the bounteous supply of nectar. They have never figured out that the feeder does not get depleted (as does a flower) so they have no need to contest it. They could share; they do not.
However today, something new visited the feeder.
A male Rufous Hummingbird flies toward the feeder and begins to extend his tongue in anticipation.
So does a hover fly. This is a first for me at a feeder. These tiny beasties are really hard to photograph in flight, but this one hovered just off the feeder and offered me the opportunity of a shot. Its legs are dangling in anticipation of landing, but it lacks the long tongue of the hummingbird and so left unsated. Yet, it was fun to see. 
“My modelling agent insists that I always pose with a strong backlight so as to highlight my golden pelage.”
I don’t know how many wild orchids bloom around the Lake, but I have managed to photograph seven different local species. The first to appear each year, sometime in May, is the Fairy Slipper (Calypso bulbosa). This one was spotted about a week earlier than those of other years. With luck, this will be a good year for wild orchids—it is a beauteous beginning.
Squirrel stripes
The squirrel family (Sciuridae) is represented by quite a few species around the Lake: two of marmots, one tree squirrel, two ground squirrels, one flying squirrel, and one (maybe two) chipmunks. Only the chipmunks and the Golden-mantled Ground Squirrel sport stripes. Below, I show a picture of each seen on May 1st in the sub-alpine forest high above the Lake.
A curious aspect of having two types of squirrels with stripes are the websites (usually touristy ones) which show a picture of a ground squirrel but label it as a chipmunk (the two aren’t even in the same genus). I wondered: How could this happen? Then it struck me: The construction of such sites is contracted to web designers who obtain their images from stock-photo services. So, I tested the idea by typing the word, chipmunk, into the search engines of a few different stock-photo websites. Yep, therein lies the source of the problem: a substantial number of the pictures labeled as chipmunks on such sites aren’t. It may be that a stock-image company isn’t such a reliable source of biological information.
A Golden-mantled Ground Squirrel is about four times the weight of a chipmunk. Stripes only appear on its back.
A chipmunk is not only much smaller, but its stripes extend from its back across its face to its nose.
