Exploring Kootenay Lake

The Spotted Sandpiper is widespread along the shores of lakes, ponds, and rivers. It also has the unusual characteristic of a sexual role reversal. The female is larger, sexually aggressive, and polyandrous — that is, it mates with multiple males, each of which is then left to incubate and brood (what it thinks are) its own chicks.

A year ago, I posted a picture, sandpiper piping, of a spotty that was calling and strutting. I didn’t know what was going on; now, I do. It was a female making an aggressive sexual display towards a nearby male. This last week, I watched this interaction repeatedly.

Having arrived at a dock, a female repeatedly harassed two males. They pretty much ignored her. Here, the female performs her courtship display on tiptoes with wings and tail outstretched.

Such a display is directed towards a particular male and accompanied by a weet-weet call.

“No, no, please don’t leave — weet-weet.”

Finally, the two males flew off. This is the female chasing after them.

Our summer residents include two species of bluebirds: mountain and western.

An April posting delighted in views of the Mountain Bluebird. We are near the centre of its breeding range, so we see both those that are migrating past us as they head farther north, and those that stay here for the season.

We are near the northern edge of the breeding range of the Western Bluebird. This means that we see fewer of them, but those that come are here to stay and breed. 

Fans of both species of bluebirds offer them nesting boxes as incentives for them to stay, and one of these provided the setting for these shots of a Western Bluebird couple attending to its chicks.

The Western Bluebird is plumper than the Mountain Bluebird. But unlike the latter, its indigo blue is accented by a rusty breast and back. This male has brought a bug to feed its chicks. Bugs might be caught on the ground or in the air.

The female Western Bluebird has more muted colours. This one has brought a grub for her chicks, but she first flies to a spot adjacent to the nest, apparently to check for watching predators, before making the revealing flight to the nest. Her left leg shows that she has been banded.

There are almost endless comings and goings throughout the day as each parent ferries food to its chicks and removes faeces. Here the male bringing a bug has to wait while the female removes a faecal sac. This aspect of bird parenting is reminiscent of diaper changing. Previously, I have shown this behaviour with the nuthatch, both dipper and swallow, and the robin.

“I’m off to find more food for my voracious chicks — this is really endless.”

Four months ago, I posted a picture of a hawk in the genus accipiter and turned to my readers to help identify it. The sentiment was that is was a Sharp-shinned Hawk, rather than the larger Cooper’s Hawk (the other likely choice). The problem has occurred again, but this time I managed a much better picture or two.

This time, the accipiter is a juvenile, and once again, I think it is a Sharp-shinned Hawk, but I can see conflicting evidence in that while the tail looks like the sharpie, the breast looks like a Cooper’s. So, I am at the mercy of those who are willing to comment.

When spotted, the hawk was hunting from a fence post.

It soon flew off, and so allowed a different view.

The Red-winged Blackbird is common year round to the south, but seasonal here where the arrival of its bubbly song heralds the return of spring. They are then mainly found around marshes where they eat seeds and insects.

The bird is named for the male, which is indeed black with red (and yellow) epaulettes.

Females are a streaky brown, more reminiscent of a large sparrow.

A male Red-winged Blackbird in a marsh hunts insects from a bullrush.

The goslings finally hatched.

Three weeks ago, I posted a picture of a goose sitting on a nest.  Since that time, the nest has been frequently checked from a distance to see if the goslings had arrived. During all that time, the gander stood guard, ready to fend off intruders. Meanwhile other families of geese swam by.

The abiding question was: Will our goose succeed in hatching goslings or not? This remained uncertain until two goslings appeared yesterday morning.

This is the goose on the nest taken three weeks ago.

During the long incubation, other families swam past with from two to six goslings. If it is possible to read frustration and envy in the face of our gander, it was at these times.

Finally yesterday at noon, the new parents were seen with their two goslings.