Ok, I know that this shows a picture of a grub and that a few milliseconds later it ceased being a grub. Actually, it is not all that easy to take such a picture because the time between a robin spotting something to eat and the bird having swallowed it is perhaps under a second.
The osprey eats fish that it captures live in stunning plunges from high over the lake. Not every such plunge is successful. This one wasn’t.
Sometime during this osprey season, I would like to take good pictures of the whole sequence: hover, plunge, enter water, fly off with fish. For now, today’s sequence of five pictures is as good as I have managed.
A circling osprey has spotted something. It slows in anticipation of its dive by dropping its legs (to increase drag) and extending its alulae (to maintain lift).
The plunge is more or less of a blur.
The osprey enters the water and stays under for at least two seconds.
The osprey emerges, but it is still not clear if it caught the fish.
Alas, it flies off with empty claws. Both it and I will try again.
An osprey couple has an off–again, on–again, relationship with an inchoate nest on some pilings. Add a stick, then abandon it; come back and mate, then abandon it; return with another stick, abandon it.
Below is the latest addition.
Composite of two images showing the osprey lifting a stick off a beach
The stick being transported to the nest
Composite of two images showing stick placement on the nest
You know the grass has started to grow when it displays guttation.
Guttation is not dew. Dew results from the condensation of water vapour from the atmosphere and it forms small drops over the whole surface of a grass blade. Guttation results from soil moisture which flows up the blade as xylem sap and is extruded from the tip of the blade.
The problem is that when roots are warm and moist, they pump liquid into the blade. But, on a chilly night, the stomates on the blade close so the liquid has nowhere to go other than to be extruded from the tip. It seems that grass is not all that smart and the cold blade does not know how to tell the roots to close down for the night.
I always watch for guttation in the spring. Well, this morning was not the first time I have seen it this year, merely the first time I had gotten around to taking a picture of it.
Guttation drops hang from the tips of grass blades; some have rolled down the blade.
Have they chosen names for the chicks yet?
Spring is late; flowers are late; bees are late; flies are late. What is a poor spider to do but sit and yearn?
This jumping spider was waiting anxiously on a leaf this afternoon. It may go hungry for another week before warmth brings food.
This unconscionably long posting presents the results of a full day of watching species around the Lake.
Yesterday, the Kaslo and Area Birders held a bird walk at the north end of the Lake. They graciously allowed others to join them so I did. Participating in such a walk has many advantages: many experienced eyes and ears discover things that a single less experienced birder easily misses; the insights gained from listening to the best birders go well beyond those found in guide books; one discovers previously unknown habitats; there is the delight of spending time with a group of interesting people. I learned much and saw three new species. Satisfying.
Despite the advantages of an organized bird walk, there is one disadvantage: it does not facilitate good bird pictures. The presence of a large number of people limits the unobtrusive approach such images usually require.
Below are a number of pictures taken shortly before, during and shortly after the walk and presented in roughly chronological order. With one exception—the downy woodpecker—the best pictures were not taken during the walk. While many more species were seen, only the tolerably acceptable images are shown below: Raccoon, Dark–eyed Junco, Elk, deer (opinions differ as to the species), Columbian Ground Squirrel, Say’s Pheobe, Downy Woodpecker, Evening Grosbeak, Northern Shrike, Turkey Vulture, Townsend’s Solitaire.
There is something atavistic about loons. Is it their stark plumage? Their haunting calls? Their wilderness preference? Perhaps it is all of these.
The loons below were seen in the early morning, yesterday and today, as they patrolled parallel to the lakeshore, but some distance away. The journey involved peering into the depths for fish, diving, preening, calling, and (seemingly) lollygagging.
Maybe it isn’t as much that loons are atavistic, as it is that they evoke an atavistic response in this loon watcher.
In the spring a young
man’sosprey’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.
Alfred Lord Tennison, 1835
He glances over at his inamorata.
He visits.
They separate.
They rest.
The Kootenay Lake website offers a discussion and many pictures of local ospreys.
Ospreys are back at the Lake. If they have been here previously, they will usually reclaim an earlier nest. If the bird is a first–time breeder or the nest was destroyed, a new one must be built. This seems to involve a fair bit of trial and error. Below are two pictures of the same piling taken on different years. Each time sticks were brought in; each time after a bit of consideration, the site was abandoned.
In April 2009, ospreys brought sticks to this piling and then abandoned it.
In April 2011, an osprey brought one stick to the same piling, pondered for a while and left.
