October has arrived and so have Grizzly Bears.
There will be more of each.

October has arrived and so have Grizzly Bears.
There will be more of each.

In this posting, a diverse collection of this month’s leftovers are used in a goulash.
The only home of painted turtles near Nelson has long been the pond at Grohman Narrows Park (see loafing time). Yet, in late September, this turtle was seen in a pond at south Taghum about four kilometres away.
Here is an oddity. It might well be a Mucronella sp., one of a group known as icicle fungi. This one seems to have fallen over as the icicles are normally vertical. It was there one day, and gone the next.
A fawn steps out of the bush. Its spots help it blend into sun-flecked surroundings. Although looking at me, only one ear is directed my way; the other is monitoring its intended pathway.
Neither predators nor prey wish to be seen, so many animals have evolved an appearance that allows them to blend in. Blend, that is, when viewed in the visible portion of the electrodynamic spectrum. But, animals cannot hide the fact that they metabolize and so will have a temperature above that of their environment. If viewed in the thermal infrared (~ 8 to 14 µm, or 20 times a visible wavelength), a visually cryptic animal stands out from its surroundings merely because it has a higher temperature. The fawn’s mother glows in the thermal infrared. 
This raven was lethargic after gorging on kokanee salmon. Its reticence to fly allowed this portrait.
The recently arrived Harlequin Duck seems to have now left Kokanee Creek. She will be heading to the Coast. Such a migration is a little odd: Other migrating ducks travel north and south; Harlequins travel east and west.
Why did this harlequin female deserve one more posting before she left? Because I got shots of her hunting underwater. I have only managed to do this with one other bird: a dipper. As that dipper posting showed, the dipper flies underwater using its wings, for unlike a duck, it doesn’t have webbed feet to propel it. As the second picture below shows, the harlequin holds its wings against its body and propels itself with its webbed feet.
The harlequin is seen searching the rocky bottom of the stream immediately after diving.
The harlequin then turns sideways and reveals that it is propelling itself with its feet, not its wings.
She surfaces and is soon off to the Coast.
The first observations of Harlequin Ducks on Kokanee Creek this century were made this May at which time the males appeared in their breeding finery. Now, for about a week, a Harlequin has been seen on the creek again.
The breeding season is over so, while distinguishable, each sex is similarly drab. This is a female, or a juvenile.
Harlequin Ducks hunt while swimming under water. Here the stream is sufficiently shallow that the duck has rolled over on its right side. It is heading to the left of the picture; its left wing is seen in the middle of the picture and its left foot is pushing against the water at the bottom. The duck seems to be chasing something.
After one such underwater scurry, the Harlequin surfaced with a fry which was promptly swallowed.
On another occasion it was hunting under some of the rocks on the floor of the creek when it found and then ate what appears to be a (caddisfly?) larva.
It was one of the strangest patterns I have noticed on the surface of the Lake: a slowly drifting pattern of alternating swooshes of light. The swooshes were created by the paddles of a kayak.
When a boat moves through the water, it leaves various wakes. Familiar is the V-shaped pattern of waves that spread laterally. There is also a turbulent wake: churning water left by a propulsion system such as a propeller. The turbulent wake and the debris wake (such as oil) have little lateral spread and so leave a track along the boat’s path.
Unlike that of a powerboat, the turbulent wake of a kayak isn’t continuous. Rather, a paddle disturbs a small patch of water first on one side and then the other. Almost any wind will soon disrupt the delicate patterns, but on this occasion, breathless air and glassy water allowed the pattern to persist and catch both the sunlight and my eye.
The turbulent wake left by kayak paddles has been slightly distorted by a gentle current.
Within about five minutes I watched two yellowish, but very different, flying things.
Although first thought to be a Nashville Warbler, Carlo is correct (comments): This bird is a Common Yellowthroat.
The second is a Sulphur (butterfly), probably an Orange Sulphur. Sulphurs do not usually show the top of their wings, but this one had to as it lifted off from some aster.
It is a rule of thumb that a hooked bill is used to tear meat to be eaten. Yet, of the hooks seen during last Sunday’s drive, some don’t quite fit the rule.
Perhaps a dozen Turkey Vultures were seen through the day. A migrating species, this bird will soon head south. This one was circling low over a spot on the roadway that had the distinct odour of road kill. The vulture does use the hook of its ivory-coloured bill to tear carrion. 
The Bald Eagle has a hooked bill used for tearing flesh to be eaten. This one is eating a Kokanee, which strikingly, also has a hooked jaw. The males of these land-locked salmon use the hook solely to bite rivals during competition for females. The Kokanee’s hook, seen below the eagle’s, proved an inadequate defence here.
The bill of the Red Crossbill is certainly hooked, although it is not often classified as such. The strangely crossed bill is used to open the cones of conifers so as to extract seeds. A slightly open bill is thrust between the scales of the cone. The bill is closed so opposing tips spread the scales. The head is twisted and the tongue extracts the seed. Crossbills seem to have roughly equal numbers of left- and right-crossing bills. Each is shown here.
And yet another posting about an Osprey and a fish?
Yes, for today I managed a picture of an adult Osprey that complemented the juvenile posted two days ago. That one showed a juvenile with orange eyes and dipped-in-cream wing feathers.
This shows an adult with yellow eyes and plain wing feathers.
It is mid September and the adults will leave for Central America or Venezuela any day now. The juveniles will follow within a couple of weeks. Ospreys will soon be gone from around the Lake for the year.
This is an adult Osprey (yellow eyes and plain wing feathers) hoarding a partially consumed Kokanee Salmon.
For no better reason other than I like the shot, here is the same adult flying off with its partialy consumed fish.
Juvenile Ospreys have now been driven from the nest (see last year’s, It’s time you went) and are now out fishing on their own.
Juveniles are distinctive, and now is the brief time to see them before they migrate and return in a few years as breeding adults. The wing feathers of the juveniles are tipped in white, almost as if they have been dipped in cream. And unlike the adults, which have yellow eyes, the juveniles rivet you with an orange stare.

Throughout the summer, I wondered why I had not seen a Killdeer, our most common plover. Granted, I had seen a number of other shorebirds: Spotted Sandpiper, American Avocet and Wilson’s Phalarope, Semi-palmated Sandpiper and Least Sandpiper.
Yesterday, I finally saw a Killdeer.
The Killdeer was foraging along the lakeshore.
Killdeers, as do all plovers, hunt mainly by sight—unlike sandpipers, that hunt by touch.
The Killdeer retrieves what might be a fish egg. It is quickly consumed.