When this parent flew to the nest I was mostly watching and not clicking the shutter. I had no idea that I was about to see something new to me. Suddenly one of the chicks began backing up to the edge of the nest and I figured it was about to defecate over the side. I was wrong.
We arrived home from our latest foray into western Montana yesterday afternoon – earlier than planned due to uncooperative weather and (to some extent) birds. Those issues are just part of the game when you’re a bird photographer but I’m sure we’ll try again several more times this summer and early fall. We still had a great time, saw some wonderful new and wild country, reacquainted with an old friend (and met a new one who now lives in Alaska but graduated from the same Salt Lake City High School where I was a teacher for 18 years – small world!) and reveled as we always do in our time spent in Big Sky Country. And I did get a few shots that I like that I’ll be posting soon. This post is for documentary purposes only – no aesthetics involved. In a completely unplanned manner (long story) we ended up spending a few minutes at the Ferruginous Hawk nest that I posted about here from our last Montana trip. I thought some of you might like to see how the chicks are coming along. This is one of the images from that earlier post – taken on June 6, 2013. Here are the same birds 12 days later, June 18, 2003. As you can see, the kids are growing up – and quickly! We had no choice but to be there at mid-day so the birds are side lit by very harsh light but I still think the comparison between the two images gives the viewer a good idea of how much development occurs in…
From the moment this flashy male Mountain Bluebird landed on a weathered and sun-bleached Montana fencepost he seemed hyped-up and twitchy.
Last week I posted images of a Ferruginous Hawk nest with chicks in Montana. I actually photographed two of them. These chicks were slightly older than those in my first post.
On my recent Montana camping trip I was pleased to note that the good folks of Big Sky Country care deeply about their bluebirds. Nest boxes of every description and age seem to be abundant on both private and public land and along road corridors. Nesting season was in full swing, as were the traditional spats between Mountain Bluebirds and Tree Swallows for nesting rights to the boxes.
On these trips I can never resist photographing the bluebirds in particular as they perform their domestic duties.
A while later I glanced down at one of the holes again and noticed that it seemed to have disappeared or changed shape and color. Closer inspection revealed the reason for the change – the hole was now filled by a gorgeous Northern Flicker looking back at us with one big eye.
Anyone who follows my blog knows that I observe and photograph kestrels often but I’ve never before seen one with snake prey. In my experience it’s always been voles, mice, small birds or (less often) insects. When we first noticed this bird it already had the snake on this bush perch.
I’ve been watching a Black-billed Magpie nest in a greasewood bush on Antelope Island all spring but the adults are very spooky and always fly off as I approach (the nest is very near a road and I stay in my vehicle on the road). But I’ve been looking forward to seeing the fledglings and I finally got a good look at all five of them last week.
A few weeks ago I reported a Glimmer of Hope for our Barn Owls. It turns out I was overly optimistic and I felt like I should update the situation.
This is the nesting pair of Ospreys I photographed at Flaming Gorge, Utah two weeks ago today. The male was coming in for a landing to relieve the female on the eggs. The dark background was a deeply shaded mountain to contrast the bird that had a little more light on it.
I’ve never been able to get a really good look at both the hook and tomial teeth on the bill of a Loggerhead Shrike in any of my images. Until two days ago on Antelope Island…
I’ve mentioned before how very reluctant Chukars are to fly. They much prefer to scurry away through the grasses whenever they feel insecure or threatened.
And that reluctance also applies when they’re ready to leave an elevated perch. They’ll nearly always find a way to scramble down a big rock rather than fly from it like most other birds would. That tendency was demonstrated to me twice yesterday morning on Antelope Island.
The moment I pulled up on this small pond at Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge last Friday I knew there’d be some opportunities for interesting behavioral shots. There were small groups of American Avocets and Black-necked Stilts that were excitedly chirping away and flying at each other in typical springtime behavior for these mixed flocks.
Having witnessed the rituals of avocets mating many times before I knew what was about to happen when this female laid her bill down on the water’s surface and presented herself to the male. This time I got the shot. So often in the past they’ve had their backs to me when it happened.
Because of its striking appearance the Canvasback is often referred to as the “aristocrat” of ducks. But as you’ll see, it’s difficult to look aristocratic with your face, head and neck slathered in mud.
