For a couple of days there have been reports around the Lake of the return of Ospreys. I saw my first one (indeed, three of them) this morning.
A newly arrived female Osprey lands on a branch.

For a couple of days there have been reports around the Lake of the return of Ospreys. I saw my first one (indeed, three of them) this morning.
A newly arrived female Osprey lands on a branch.

I have posted a handful of shots of the Northern Shrike in the last month (see, this, in particular). So, why more? This is a case of shrike while the iron is hot.
This peculiar bird is hunting around here briefly before heading north to breed. On previous occasions, I have seen it in Kokanee Creek Park in the grasslands adjacent to the Lake. Alas, on 8th April, the Park was closed (it’s a covid thing). The following day, a shrike appeared at my home. OK, I had to record the event.
A Northern Shrike perched in a bush outside my bedroom window.

And soon flew off — seen here just entering the camera frame.

A better indication than the equinox for the arrival of spring is the arrival of butterflies. In the last few days, I have seen two, both early-season species. Each settled on some dry grass and spread its wings so as bask in the sunlight.
The California Tortoiseshell is common some years and rare others. The damaged right, back wing on this one implies that it has been around long enough to have been attacked by a bird.

The Mourning Cloak is so named because its colours mimic a cloak worn during a period of mourning. After a winter in hibernation, Mourning Cloaks emerge early in the spring to mate.

The canonical bird picture shows it perched in profile. Such a picture is useful for identification, and is relatively easy to take. When I say this, I don’t mean to imply that a profile is easy — just that it is considerably easier than taking action shots.
But I like the action shots, and for birds this often means catching them in flight. Here are two shots from this morning.
The male robin on the left was foraging on the grass when it was attacked by another male. I suspect that this was a fight over breeding territory.

For a few weeks, we have had a Northern Shrike hunting over grasslands. The bird has probably stopped to feed on its way farther north to breed. I have managed a few profile pictures, but until this morning, my flight shots of it were distant and blurry.

Steam devils in April? This was unexpected. Although not an every-winter occurrence, my experience is that steam devils are seen over the Lake during a bitterly cold outbreak of brisk winds in midwinter. Yet, there they were on a sunny April morning.
Steam devils are whirlwinds of steam fog extending from the water surface upwards perhaps a hundred metres. They look rather like water spouts, but they are not. Water spouts grow down from a thunderstorm and lift a column of whirling water. Steam devils grow up from the surface and are filled with churning droplets of steam fog. Indeed the name devil comes from the Greek, to throw. Satan earned the name as a result of throwing slander; steam devils earn it by tossing droplets of steam fog.
Today’s events played out as follows: The night was clear and a cold katabatic wind flowed down a draw, out across a beach, and over the warmer water of the Lake. Once over the water, the low-vapour-pressure moisture in the katabatic wind mixed with the higher-vapour-pressure moisture just over the Lake. The resulting condensation produced small chaotic convective sprites of steam fog. That is usually where the matter rests.
Today however, the shallow katabatic wind flowed offshore at an angle to the beach: It moved faster over the smooth water than over the friction-slowing beach. This added a spin to the air, and that vortex became stretched by the rising convective towers of steam fog. The result was towering steam devils.
Sprites of steam fog are seen rising from the Lake. But, one that was spinning has been stretched by convection into a towering steam devil.

Steam devils are further sculpted by the horizontal wind and so bend and twist.

A steam devil can form a dramatic spinning tower of fog.

Sometimes one happens upon a really nice scene. Such was the case this morning when, for the first time, I saw a close Red-tailed Hawk couple watching me from a snag. The female is on the left, the male is on the right. I wish them luck.

For a few days now, others have been seeing Mountain Bluebirds around the Lake. I failed to find them until today.
With the coming of spring, Mountain Bluebirds flow into this region in search of insects. They perch close to the ground, spot an insect and swoop down and capture it.
A female Mountain Bluebird watches for insects from a bush.

It spots something and flies off after it.

It captures and flies off with an insect.

A male Mountain Bluebird sits on a perch watching for insects.

Now is the time to start watching Ruffed Grouse. There seem to be many of them about and their mating period is coming up: April into May.
I have two Ruffed Grouse that treat my yard as a portion of their range. Sometimes I see them; sometimes I don’t. Are they a male and a female? Probably, in that they are tolerating each other at the moment.
Ruffed grouse have two distinct morphs: grey and red (brown). The grey morph predominates in the norther portions of their range; the red morph in the southern portions. Presumably this has something to do with camouflage in different habitats.
Curiously, we seem to have both morphs around the Lake. Indeed, the couple in my yard seems to be one of each.
A grey morph Ruffed Grouse peers over its shoulder.

While a red morph Ruffed Grouse tries to look inconspicuous.

March goulash
This is a collection of images from March, each of which lacked a posting of its own.
Such observations of nature serve as a balm to my own increasing social isolation. These are creatures oblivious to our present angst. After all, nature doesn’t need people; it is people who need nature.
Yellow-bellied Marmots are impervious to issues of social distancing. Interactions just carry on.

A Red-tailed Hawk couple is seen on distant trees. The female (lower left) is 11% longer and so about 35% heavier than the male (upper right). This sexual size difference is typical for red tails.

Earlier, the female Red-tailed Hawk is seen with a small creature sticking out of the side of its bill.

Around here, the Northern Shrike is an uncommon bird of the cold weather. Yet, I see one most often in March and April. These are the shrikes passing through here as they migrate from south to north. Although the shrike is a songbird, it is a wannabe raptor. It has the raptor’s hooked bill, but lacks its grasping claws.

On adjacent days, I saw a juvenile Bald Eagle. Seen first hunting from the air, and next hunting from a perch, it is likely the same bird.

Is this the same bird as above? The colour here seems browner, but then the lighting is different.

Just as with the shrike, we are experiencing an uptick in sightings of Ring-necked Ducks (male left, female right) as they migrate north past our region. The duck is named for the rather faint ring around the base of its neck.

But, the Barrow’s Goldeneye Duck (female left, male right) will now be declining in number with the passing of the winter.

Here is yet another swan. However, this is the less common Tundra Swan, and it is flapping.
