Exploring Kootenay Lake

A male (top) and female (bottom) display their crests.

This looked promising.

A pair of Hooded Mergansers arrived on a pond yesterday and each then erected its crest. Each presented the other with a side view, the better to display their crests to good effect.

Hoodies have a variety of courtship displays, most of which are performed by the male. They go by names such as: crest raising, head shaking, head throw, pumping, upward stretch, water twitching. These actions might be repeated a number of times. Typically, when these are performed by one bird, it does not face the object of its desire. Rather, it presents the more enticing side view to its intended. If all of this has its intended effect, copulation ensues on the water.

Below, there are quite a few pictures of hoodie courtship. I try to attach the proper label to each based upon the descriptions offered in the 1961 paper by Johnsgard: The Sexual Behavior and Systematic Position of the Hooded Merganser.

The male raises his crest.

The female raises her crest.

The male lifts his head, shakes it, and calls.

Then in the most elaborate of the male courtship displays, he throws his head back while keeping the crest erect.

Sometimes the male will do head pumping where he silently extends and shortens his neck. There are two females watching this. The one on the left has raised her crest; the one on the right shows less interest.

And then there is the rising out of the water,

and what is apparently called water twitching.

At this point, there is some calling back and forth: your place or my place.

The decided couple heads off together.

Abruptly, there ensues a great deal of splashing about.

If I were to have spent more time around Duck Lake (just south of the Main Lake), I would likely have seen many Northern Pintails by now—thousands pass through that region on their way north. As it is, this is the first pintail I have managed to photograph.

The pintail is dabbling duck: it feeds primarily along the surface of the water or by tipping headfirst into the water to graze on aquatic plants. It is named for the male’s two long black tail feathers. Here are three pictures of yesterday’s male pintail, two of which show the tail feathers.

Derek Kite showed me where to find Mountain Bluebirds only three kilometers from my home. The first five times I looked, none were to be seen. The sixth time, there they were—precisely where I had failed to find them earlier. It was worth the effort.

While Mountain Bluebirds do breed around here, most of those we see are passing through. So there is a big spike in observations as they head north in late April to early May, and then again in September as they head south. Today, they were hard to miss. Below are some of today’s shots. The third picture shows the female; she has muted colours. The rest are of the more striking male.

I have often seen a Red-tailed Hawk in the trees along a lakeside road. Sometimes, the hawk is being harassed by ravens; they try to drive it away. The usual response of the hawk is, indeed, to leave.

Yesterday, I saw the hawk in the tree. From the tree, it switched to hunting while soaring. While aloft, it spotted a raven and started chasing it and actually attacked it in the air before the two of them passed out of sight.

My guess is that the hawk just decided that it was time to teach the raven a lesson.

The Red-tailed Hawk was seen first as it hunted from a tree.

It then switched to hunting on the wing.

It then encountered a raven and gave chase, including attacking it in the air.

Today, I set out to see one of the Mountain Bluebirds that had been reported recently in Kokanee Creek Park. I headed out a few times. I failed to see one. I will keep looking—the bird is worth seeing.

Yet during the search, I did see and photograph two other rather nice finds.

The Northern Shrike is a curious bird: a predatory songbird that mimics a raptor in the way it hunts small birds, mammals, and insects. As does a raptor, it uses its hooked bill to kill and dismantle its prey. But unlike a raptor, it lacks tallons to hold its prey. Its solution is to impale its prey on a thorn. The thorn holds it in place as the bird dismantles it with its hooked bill. It is probably no accident that one often sees the Northern Shrike sitting on a black hawthorn, as it does here. This bird, while not common, can be seen throughout the winter. Yet, from May to September it heads farther north to breed.

The Common Loon, however, is not all that common during the winter but becomes more so in the summer. Today, these two species overlapped. I guess I will have to look for a Mountain Bluebird another day.

The Horned Grebe is frequently seen on the Lake, except, alas, when it is in its spectacular breeding plumage. From May to September it heads farther north to breed.

Nevertheless, while it is here, it is fun to watch as it repeatedly dives for fish. It seems to have a rather low success rate. This morning, I watched one dive dozens of times as it swam back and forth along the lakeshore, and only once did it come up with a small morsel.

The Horned Greb dives.

On one occasion it surfaced with a small fish.

And then, seemingly, the grebe poses.