By ‘best’ I mean that this flycatcher gave me more poses yesterday, on more perches, over more time than any other small bird in longer than I can remember. And “he” even allowed me a bunch of shots with prey for good measure, including a yellowjacket.
I’m sure this juvenile Osprey worked hard for the fish but what looked to me like a rookie mistake cost it a meal.
These juveniles look a little scruffy this time of year but I refuse to make a big deal out them not looking their best, especially after the photo I posted of myself two days ago.
It’s often little things like the subtle survival skills of birds that interest me most.
This apparent contentment of parent and offspring just struck me, though when I think about it I know it’s just a temporary illusion.
And this time she did it so well she eventually quit walking and simply flew the last leg of it.
Eight years ago today, on August 18, 2010, I published my first blog post on Feathered Photography. It’s been a helluva ride.
An adult in flight feeding one of its fledglings. And let’s just say it’s being done enthusiastically by both participants.
And both of them were in or very near Montana’s Centennial Valley. I’ll bet some of my readers already know what species constructed them.
Yesterday morning we found a family of at least four Say’s Phoebes in the Wasatch Mountains. The adults were feeding their hungry fledglings.
