Poor me

This photo of a Barred Owl was taken just south of Tofino on Vancouver Island a few years ago. Kathleen and I were on the road home after a wonderful vacation when out of the corner of my eye I spotted an owl beside the quiet roadway.  When I first saw her* she was perched in some small saplings on the west side of the road.  I walked back along the east side and got a few photos from about 50 feet away before she left her perch and swooped across the road, landing behind me, a bit closer now.  A few more photos  … Then she launched from her new perch and headed straight toward me.  She spread her wings suddenly and dropped to the ground  just in front of me, out of sight behind some low shrubs. There was a bit of scuffling around on the ground before she flew back up to a tree branch.  This was the next picture I got.

It is not current and it is not from southwestern Alberta.  Although other birders have seen them in Hillcrest and one night last fall I heard a Barred Owl’s  distinctive “Who cooks for you?” call from my Hillcrest backyard.

Its a great shot. I consider it my best photograph and my favourite. That sounds like an excess of hubris but it isn’t really.  I did take the photograph but I can’t take much credit for it.  Ok, I was smart enough to be driving through the old growth forest on the west coast of Vancouver Island with my camera ready to go in the back seat.  I was skilled enough to have my camera set appropriately for the conditions.  And I was disciplined enough to move slowly, not spook the owl, and hold steady while I took the shot.  Being generous I might give myself 5% of the credit for each of those for a total of 15%. Then there is that ever-present factor I have written about before – luck.

What are the chances that the Owl, the unfortunate mouse (actually a Red Backed Vole, I think) and I, would be at that spot during the few seconds that the opportunity lasted?  … and that, as I drove by, I would glance right at that point rather than left? … and that this owl would have the courage to continue its hunt with me standing 50 feet away? OK so serendipity gets … say 35%.

That leaves 50% for the Owl.  I am convinced that somewhere in the woods behind her is a modelling school for owls.  That’s where she learned to pick that particular perch to land on;  to pose so elegantly and perfectly (I defy anyone to find a flaw in her pose or demeanour).  And then there is the look in her eyes.  Amazingly, I don’t see fear or hostility there.  Confidence, curiosity… and something else… maybe pity …  yes, pity.

She belongs here. I don’t.  She has a mouse. I don’t.  Poor me.

*  I have referred to the owl as female in this article but that is somewhat arbitrary decision on my part (although the females tend to be larger and this owl seemed quite large to me so maybe it was a good call)

About  Barred Owl

About  Tofino

Back to the Mountains

… Mountain Bluebirds that is.

I have been feeling guilty this summer because I’ve been neglecting one of my favourite subjects for photography – Mountain Bluebirds.  Every spring these sparkling blue jewels appear along the barbed wire fences that line the back roads of Alberta.  But this year my interest – and my camera – was often focussed on their cousins, the newly arrived in Alberta, Western Bluebirds that nested near Burmis Lake.

I got a chance to catch up this weekend when we went to Cowley for lunch.  On the way home we decided to take the back roads and encountered several large flocks of Mountain Bluebirds along the roadsides.  In the spring you see solitary birds or pairs settling in to a convenient nest box to start a family. Later in the summer they form small family units as the chicks learn from their parents the skills of flying and foraging for food.  By this time of year the families are forming up into larger flocks (there were probably 40 or 50 in each of the flocks we saw) in preparation for the flight to their winter homes in the Southern US and Mexico.

Year round, the brilliant sky blue of the males is stunning.  I first saw them 40 years ago in a place that seems unlikely, now that I know the birds well as Prairie and Foothills residents.  I had transferred from eastern Canada to Kitimat, BC in 1975.  The move to Kitimat was exciting for a newly confirmed birder and I spent most of my spare time outdoors, binoculars around my neck and field guide in my hand.  One day at one of my favourite spots – Minette Bay, a tidal bay that separates Kitimat from the deep water of Douglas Channel – I caught a glimpse of  four or five birds that looked like flying neon lights of blue.  My first reaction was that they must be escaped parakeets, but a quick check in my Golden Field guide showed me they were Mountain Bluebirds.  I got to watch them at a distance for a few minutes that day, but never saw them again in the area.  (Of course that was long before the days of digital cameras with imaged-stabilized 500mm lenses – so no pictures).

As I was writing this blog, I checked on eBird and found that they have been recorded occaisionally in this same area since 1997.  They aren’t recorded every year but their absence some years probably has more to do with a lack of timely observers than a lack of Bluebirds.

Now,  that I live in Southern Alberta they are a regular part of my world.  Our highways and backroads are lined with Bluebird trails;  hundreds of nest boxes on fence posts that humans have set up to replace the natural tree cavities that were destroyed when the land was cleared for agriculture.

Our last sight of the Bluebirds for the year was this crowd of birds splashing around a puddle … a Bluebird pool party, in celebration of the upcoming migration.

About Mountain Bluebird

About Western Bluebird

About Kitimat, BC

About eBird

Using the Shadows

One day last week we drove up the North Burmis road and encountered not one but two flocks of Wild Turkeys.  This group  were wandering peacefully along the Road when we drove up. There were two hens in the group and about 10 or 12 large and independent chicks.   (The Toms go off on their own at this time of year.)

Turkeys were abundant in North America in pre-Columbian times.  They were most numerous in the eastern half of the continent  and  South into Mexico where native Americans  had domesticated the Turkey before the Spanish conquest. There were some pockets of them in the west but they were not indigenous to Alberta.

Once the Europeans arrived the Turkey population decreased dramatically as a result of hunting and habitat destruction.  Its not hard to see how these large, conspicuous, and slow moving birds became dinner table favourites.  Both groups that we saw that day were wandering quite openly along the side of the gravel road. When we pulled over and I got out of the car camera in hand, there was no panic.  They picked up the pace a little and crossed the road, obviously paying attention to me but continuing to peck and graze. I stayed about 50 feet away and that seemed to be ok with them.  Its their good luck that I was a photographer.  Had I been a Pilgrim looking for Thanksgiving dinner they would have been easy pickings.

Conservation programs, started in the mid 20th century, have brought back healthy population levels. There are estimated to be more than 7 Million turkeys in the wild today.  The first Wild Turkeys I saw were in Ontario in the 1970s and I was amazed to learn that they still existed.  Over the past thirty years I have lived in Alberta and watched them become more and more common here in the south west corner of the province.    The bad news is that there are now legal Wild Turkey hunting seasons almost everywhere.  The good news of course is that their population can sustain managed hunting.

They are so conspicuous when in the open that its hard to believe you could ever miss them.  Their response to people is to avoid them by slowly walking off into the forest. They can fly but I have rarely seen them do so.

As this group disappeared into the forest their tactic became suddenly apparent.  Their dark, glossy body feathers became just vague forest shadows the moment they passed through the first rows of taller plants. Once into the forest they were only discernible if you already knew they were there.  It occurred to me then that I have never spotted Turkeys in the forest.  I only see them when they venture out into the open of a roadside or grassy field.  I guess they are smarter than they look!

It’s surprising what a big part shadows play in your world when you are a Turkey.

About Wild Turkey

Whatever you do, Don’t move

On a visit to Beauvais Lake last  week  we saw this Wilson’s Snipe hiding rather conspicuously about 50 feet offshore.  Or maybe not so conspicuously.  We had parked at the side of the road opposite the lake.  As usual, our first act was to get out our cameras and binoculars and scan the lake.  I focused on the near shore and the floating plants in close where I had seen Soras, Killdeer, and Teal on previous visits.  Seeing nothing of interest, I looked down the shore to confirm that the Trumpeter Swans and Ospreys of my previous posts were still around.  There they were, waiting for our photo session.

We ate our sandwiches, keeping an eye on the lakeshore.  I got out of the car and walked slowly toward the Swans and Ospreys, always on the outlook for other birds in the water.  I took a few Swan and Osprey shots then walked slowly back, still scanning the water for newcomers.  By the time I got back to the car, we had been there about an hour.  Through all that time and all that scanning for birds I had not glimpsed the snipe in its hiding place 50 ft from where we were parked.

Then, it made a mistake. It moved.  Just a turn of the head, but instantly I knew it was there.   I was already in the car getting ready to leave but couldn’t ignore the call of my peripheral vision.  I retrieved my camera from the back seat and crossed the road to get a bit closer.  The Snipe’s camoflage was very effective. It was almost impossible to discern with the naked eye.  I could see it clearly through the telephoto lens but, if I looked away, it took me several seconds to see it again when I looked back.  It didn’t move again, but somehow I could tell that its attention was totally on me as I moved back and forth along the edge of the lake seeking the best photo ops.

I took my pictures and we got back in the car and drove home.  Fortunately for the Snipe, I wanted to photograph it not eat it.  I hope it learned a valuable lesson that day;  one that I am sure its mother drilled into it in the nest.

Whatever you do, don’t move.

About  Wilson’s Snipe

Gone Fishin’

This Osprey is perched near its nest in the top of a dead tree overlooking Beauvais Lake. When we visited last week he was also overlooking the flock of four Trumpeter Swans that were the subject of my last post. They have a harmonious and neighbourly relationship.  Those talons would pose a serious threat to little cygnets in the spring were it not for the fact that the Osprey much prefers fish.  And fish are abundant in this area.

The rivers that come down from the east slopes of the Rocky mountains into this area are among the best trout fishing streams in  the world. This avian angler returns here every spring,  one of  many  fishermen who flock to the Crowsnest Pass from all over the world.  His winter home is probably in South America, or maybe along the southern coasts of the USA, Mexico, or Central America. It is a long journey but the fishing here makes it worthwhile.

Ospreys are not the only ones who know about this fisherman’s paradise.  Human fly fishermen also arrive in the area seasonally to try their luck in the Crowsnest, Oldman, Castle and Carbondale rivers and their tributaries.  Most of the fly fishermen practice “Catch and Release” so the fish stock in the rivers and lakes is preserved.  They come for sport, relaxation and fun.  For the Osprey this is more serious business. He has a family to feed.

He is very good at what he does  – diving up to three feet deep into the water, talons first, to seize an unsuspecting fish.  His success rate has been estimated at one fish for every four plunges.  Most fly fishermen would envy that statistic.  Today at Beauvais Lake we watch him return home successfully to a chorus of enthusiastic screeches of welcome from his dependants.  The fish he brings with him is big enough to impress most fly fishermen.

When we started coming to the Crowsnest pass 17 years ago I thought I might take up fly fishing.  As things turned out I returned to photography and birding instead. Fishing is a spectator sport for me, but  catching a good shot of these fishermen in action brings me more pleasure than landing a Trout on a fly line ever could.

About  Osprey

Swans Have Their Secrets

These Trumpeter Swans were at Beauvais lake Friday when we saw the Red Necked Grebes.  It was seeing the Swans dozing and swimming gracefully just offshore that got us to pull over at that spot and watch them while we ate our sandwiches.  We returned last night and they were there again,  so of course I had to take more pictures.

The photo above is from a set that I took of two of the Swans (there were four altogether) standing very close together in the shallow water.  I zoomed in tight hoping  for something like the above.  They were preening themselves so their heads and necks were in constant motion.  All I could do was concentrate on trying to time my shutter release so both birds were holding their heads up.  I took 25 or 30 pictures most of which were not what I wanted but this one I liked.

That’s what I like about birdwatching with a camera.  After a days shooting, I rush to my computer to download the few shots that I am pretty confident were good ones – maybe 3 or 4 of the 300 or so I might have taken.  But after that, I look forward to mining the remaining 295 images, looking for keepers I did not know I had captured.  If I get the technical stuff right -exposure, focus, camera settings – then the rest is up to the birds.  My challenge is to find a good composition or an interesting story in what the birds have given me,

I took this picture on our first visit to Beauvais Lake.  I had no idea that one of the Swans was looking at the world upside down.  It looks quite weird in this context … until you look more carefully and sort out the various bird body parts.  Other shots in the series show the three birds dozing in matching poses, which was what I was aiming for. When I spotted this one it immediately became my favourite.

When I am in the field I usually try to frame an interesting composition, set my camera for the effect I want and choose the right moment to trip the shutter.  Occasionally, my efforts pay off and I am rewarded with a beautiful shot that is just what I had in mind.  But the behaviour of my subjects is unpredictable.   More often than not my technical efforts only get me close, and I find myself digging through images looking for a gem.  Just like a miner.

About Trumpeter Swan

Birdwatching with a Camera

I Photographed these juvenile Red Necked Grebes  at the north west tip of Beauvais Lake when Kathleen and I went there for a picnic supper yesterday evening.  Though Beauvais Lake is a public park and campground (the reason we seldom go birding there) this particular spot was off the beaten path and very tranquil. There were some interesting birds around and a hatch of huge blue Dragonflies patrolling back and forth over the surface of the lake.

The Grebes were feeding  just offshore behind a few scattered cattails that have started to invade the lake.  Photos  of  Red Necked Grebes had eluded me and were absent from my collection so this was a great opportunity to fill that gap.   Both birds were swimming placidly,  in close, not even feeding very actively – perfect conditions for getting some good pictures. Soon I noticed that one of them was  edging further and further out from the shore.  I  concentrated on the nearer one and took a few more shots before I saw that the further bird was acting a bit strangely.

It was making frequent, short dashes accompanied by much splashing, across the water and at one point jumped straight up almost out of the water with its beak wide open!  I missed that picture but followed the bird in my viewfinder for a while taking several shots,  the best of which is below.

The Red Necked Grebe was running across the water and trying to leap up and snap the giant dragonflies out of the air.  It made several attempts while I was watching it but I couldn’t tell whether or not it was successful. I got a few very blurry out-of-focus images before I got this one. The picture is not a great photograph, but it let me see what the bird was up to and taught me something I didn’t know about Red Necked Grebes.

Which is why I like birdwatching with a Camera.

About Red Necked Grebes

About Beauvais lake

Bad Feather Day

This White Faced Ibis appears to be having a bad feather day. These birds have always appeared somewhat prehistoric to me and, in this state, this one looks even more so.  We spotted it just over a week ago north of Nanton off Highway 2. I think it’s a young bird who does not have a fully developed set of feathers.  Nevertheless, what it does have it seems to handle very well flying with apparent ease over the reeds.

When it returns next year it should have its act together and its feathers meticulously lined up. 

Like the Black Necked Stilt in my previous post, Ibises are recent settlers in Alberta.  The first confirmed observation was in 1974.  There is now a large colony that returns annually to Frank Lake and I have seen reliable reports from several other locations in southern Alberta.

This one was on a small lake that I only recently found out had a name – Silver Lake.  We have had some good birding there in the past but I have always considered it a slough rather than a lake. The water level varies greatly from year to year and has recently been quite low.  Some years Silver “Lake” almost disappears and there are few birds.  It recovered somewhat last year, and by this spring the water was quite high and the bird population flourished. On a year like this it is almost as good a birding spot as Frank Lake albeit smaller with less convenient access for viewing.

Last year was the first time I had seen Ibises at Silver Lake and that was one bird on one visit. This year I saw several of them each time I visited.  Here’s hoping the water levels will stay up and they can get a new colony established.

About White Faced Ibises

About Frank Lake

About Silver Lake

The Party’s over

Kathleen and I stopped by at Frank Lake yesterday on our way from Calgary to the Crowsnest Pass.  What a change from the last time we were there about 4 weeks ago!  The colony of Franklin’s Gulls east of the viewing shelter was gone without a trace. This is one of the largest breeding colonies of Franklin’s Gulls in Canada, if not the world, and their cacophonic chorus is an ever-present sound track through the early months of the season. There were a few chirps and calls and an occasional shriek from the remaining residents but the intense energy level was no longer here.

The last time we were here, Franklin’s Gulls, White Faced Ibises, White Pelicans, Wilson’s Phalaropes and myriad other species were criss-crossing the sky in all directions like passengers in a hectic airport terminal. Yesterday,  there were a few solitary birds or small groups in the air but the sense of hustle and bustle was gone.  As I walked out on the boardwalk to the shelter a group of three Wilson’s Snipes rose from the reeds off to my right,  and a couple of small flocks of Blackbirds moved from place to place in the reed bed.  In the distance I saw one White Faced Ibis fly across the sky.  Just as I got to the shelter I was startled by some shrill cries as a flock of 4 or 5 Black Necked Stilts flew by.

There were still a lot of birds on the lake but they were out past the reed beds on the open water. From the shelter most of them appeared as  small unrecognizable dots. In closer, the open pond in front of me was shared by half a dozen American Coots and a few Blackbirds. No sign of the Eared Grebes and Ruddy Ducks that usually share the Coots’ swimming pool. The only real activity was a pair of Barn Swallows that  buzzed me as they defended an apparently empty nest under the eave of the shelter. Maybe working on a second brood.

I didn’t get much in the way of pictures so I walked over to another viewing point a couple of hundred yards from the shelter.  I was greeted by loud piercing, calls as a second flock of Black Necked Stilts  circled over my head and landed in the water within good picture taking range;  an adult and three young birds out on a training mission. So I got my photos for the day and moved on.

I feel a bit of a connection with Black Necked Stilts because they and I arrived in Alberta about the same time.  I got here in 1977 and a couple of years later I saw my first Stilt.  I was pretty excited because my 1976 copy of The Birds of Alberta told me there had only ever been 3 previous records in the province.  Over the years they have done well here  and now, in spring and summer,  you can reliably find them (and me) hanging around the sloughs and potholes of Southern Alberta.

About  Black Necked Stilts

About  Frank Lake

Bye, Bye, Bluebirds

We have been back in Calgary for the last four days catching up on business and social appointments. A few days before we left I made what will probably be my last visit this year to the Western Bluebirds over at Burmis.

This time, I could see little heads with gaping beaks at the entrance to the nest. The parents continued to bring food regularly to satisfy their demanding offspring but they were not so quick to go right up to the nest hole. Instead, they would hang around outside a bit,  perching nearby or on top of the box dangling a nice juicy grasshopper in front of the chicks. Eventually they would give in and take the offering to the nest opening.

It seemed to me that they were trying to lure them out into the big wide world. Once that happens, they will disperse quickly. I had to leave for Calgary that day so I was not there to witness the event but that was 6 days ago so I am sure they have gone by now. I look forward to their return next year, now that they have firmly asserted their Alberta residency.

About Western Bluebird