I took this photograph in February, but just now had a chance to process it and get it up on my site. With the spring migration ending, and way too much snow still in the high Sierra, I’ve been biding my time photographically by culling through some older shots that I was too busy to attend to when I took them.
This photo features one of several white-faced ibises that make an annual appearance at Palo Alto Baylands every winter. Seemingly out of place in the Bay Area, there are always at least one or two that stop by for a couple of weeks. Usually, they hang out far into the marshes, but occasionally they come closer within camera distance. Then it becomes a game of patience.
I was watching this ibis for about an hour and a half as the sun was creeping toward the horizon behind me. With each passing minute, the light got sweeter, but my opportunity for getting a shot that stood out was vanishing. Then, just before the light started to fade, he made a quick thrust into the shallow water, and up came a small fish. He seemed quite proud of himself, and actually strutted around a bit with the fish before consuming it. All the while my shutter clicked away. This was my favorite photo from the day – a proud ibis with his fresh catch.
Last month I visited a marsh near my home where American Avocets and Black-necked Stilts nest every year. Both species had been in the area for about a month, pairing up, mating, and preparing the site for nesting. Closely related, these two species often nest in the the area, sometimes laying eggs in the nests of the other species, leaving another parent to raise their young. When I got there, the avocets were either still building nests, or sitting on eggs. One or two lookouts were constantly scanning the skies for predators, turning their necks 90 degrees in order to focus an eye upward.
An american avocet continually watches the skies above its nesting area, looking for would-be predators. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/1600 sec. at f/8.
The stilts were even more wary, as some of them had freshly hatched chicks. The most common threats were gulls, as they dive-bombed the nesting site. Occasionally a northern harrier would fly overhead, sending the stilts into a panic.
A black-necked stilt watches the skies above its nesting area, looking for gulls and raptors. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/3200 sec. at f/5.6.
One stilt had three precocious young who were anxious to explore their new surroundings. It was a fairly constant effort to corral them together, and try to keep an eye on three little ones at once.
A black-necked stilt watches over its freshly-hatched chicks. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/1250 sec. at f/9.
The chicks were just getting old enough to venture away from the nest to practice feeding on their own. Their unsteady clumsy legs sometimes pitched them sideways into the shallow mud. They would stray from the nest for only a few minutes, at which point they’d turn around and head back, perhaps out of some primal instinct to stay close to a parent.
Two black-necked stilt checks explore the shallow water near their nest. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/640 sec. at f/8.
As the sun set, the stilt settled down into the shallow scraping of a nest it had created at the edge of the pickleweed. One by one, each chick would press its way into the feathers of its parent, so it could nest in relative safety.
A day's end, a black-necked stilt cuddles its chick, inviting it to nest within its feathers. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/500 sec. at f/11.
May you and your loved ones have a happy Valentine’s Day.
I’d like to wish my Valentine and beautiful wife of 7 years, Kerry, a very special day. Thank you for all of your love and support in everything that I do! I love you.
A family of california ground squirrels lines up along a curb. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 1000. Evaluative metering +1/3 stop: 1/250 sec. at f/22
Byxbee Park (one of the local bird spots I visit occasionally) has seen a recent explosion in the california ground squirrel population. While I have always seen plenty of these squirrels running across the trails, or peeking their heads out of the tops of bushes, it has never been in these numbers. When this park was created from an old landfill conversion, small mounds were built to create habitat for these squirrels. I’m not sure what has caused the increase in population, but they have been thriving this fall and winter.
A healthy ground squirrel population is a sign of good things to come for birders (and bird photographers!) First and foremost, there have been an abundance of raptors, more than happy to contribute their part to squirrel population control. This park has always been a good place to see birds of prey in flight, but a high prey count can only help. Secondly, an increase in ground squirrels means an increase in burrows. The burrowing owl will take residence in existing homes (including those of the ground squirrel). While I have not seen any burrowing owls in this area yet, I am hopeful that one or two families might take up residence here. The main deterrent to burrowing owls here is that this park is also a popular dog walking area. Too often I see dog owners ignore all of the signs, and let their dogs roam off-lease, potentially disturbing sensitive habitat. For the burrowing owl, all we can do is wait and see.
