Exploring Kootenay Lake

I have reached the enviable situation where my descendants are besting my photographic efforts.

This is the summertime, and I am being visited by family, some of whom choose to wander the woods with me. The striking thing is that when we go out, these family members frequently succeed in capturing more interesting scenes than I do. There will be other such postings.

The three images below, were captured by my daughter, Cynthia, — alas, I missed the shots. She recorded a Chipping Sparrow feeding an insect to its just fledged chick.

The adult Chipping Sparrow is on the left passing a winged insect to its chick.

“Yummy, that is good.”

“But, it is not enough. What else are you going to get for me.”

Cynthia Fraser’s images are used with permission.

Mallard chicks, still in their natal down, were first seen in mid-May. Since then, the chicks seen have been juveniles, smaller than adults, but long out of their natal down and all looking like the female duck.

It came as a surprise yesterday, over a month and a half after seeing the first ones, to see fresh mallard chicks in their natal down. That strikes me as a rather long period over which hatching has occurred.

These mallard chicks, swimming along a creek this week, have been long out of their natal down.

Last evening, I watched some tiny chicks that looked as if they had just hatched.

The Common Yellowthroat is a warm-season warbler that is found in our patchy fields and wetlands. It feeds and breeds locally.

I encountered a canoodling couple in some wetlands. Each hung around the other bearing a grub to offer a potential mate. Yellowthroat protocol requires that the male follows the female until she flutters her wings as a signal that she’s ready to mate. Yet, while each bird paid close attention to the other, she never gave the signal.

Each Common Yellowthroat (female on wire, male flying up) brings a grub to offer the other.

The two of them seem to compare their grub offerings, but to no effect.

They got together at various places along the wires of a fence.

But, she ultimately took her grubs and went off on her own.

And he abandoned the quest — for now.

Following my posting, an eagle juvenile flew by, I watched a Great Blue Heron do likewise.

Mind you, the heron did not look my way, as the Bald Eagle had, but just went about its business of monitoring the wetlands.

A Great Blue Heron flies low over the wetlands.

A juvenile Bald Eagle flew by.

Yesterday’s posting asked whether a loon rising out of the water and flapping its spread wings represented preening or aggression. A brochure, Learn to Read the Signs, from the Loon Preservation Committee says that the loon uses the wing flapping for each purpose. To distinguish them, one has to read the loon’s behaviour: had it been preening, or had it shown other signs of stress?

I saw no preening prior to the wing-flapping display, but it did go on to show another sign of stress: sinking low in the water so as to become inconspicuous. It could well have been my presence that prompted the loon’s actions. On the other hand, I was on the bank when the loon came swimming by. It probably had not expected someone to be there. The loon and I then just wandered off in different directions. 

A loon sinks in the water, apparently to make itself less conspicuous.