Well it’s about time

April 20, 2020 Al Denelsbeck

“Double-crested cormorant.” They have that name, oh, probably because they have a double-crest, right? Makes sense. Except they don’t. I have dozens of photos of them, from various states, over the years, and not one of them shows a double-crest. It’s supposed to be a breeding display in males, so perhaps it doesn’t last too long, but still, not once? It’s enough to think some snickering ornithologists (the worst kind) are playing a joke.

Until now.

double-crested cormorant Phalacrocorax auritus showing breeding crests
Finally! Except – I was told there’d be white feathers up there, and not just a black male-pattern fringe in need of pomade. But at least, the snickering ornithologists have been proven not to be total liars. And you gotta love that twist in the neck as it ensured itself that I wasn’t up to no good.

We’ve had, off and on, cormorants at the nearby pond for a few years. They don’t seem to colonize it, but a stray handful likes to hang around for periods, and they prefer the old dock pilings for perches. I think I’ve primarily seen females there, judging from the more brown feathers compared to the black seen here, but again, I’ve photographed flocks of them, and colonies inhabiting bridges and wharves. Regardless, here it is – without the white feathers we were promised.

No, no, let’s not speak (type) too soon.

double-crested cormorant Phalacrocorax auritus showing solitary white breeding feather
Okay, a white feather, and only on this side. You can see a hint of it in the first photo too, but I wanted to make it clear and distinct, and vindicate the SOs a little. Of course, in this light we can’t tell for sure that it’s white, as such, but it’s lighter anyway. We’ll let this one pass.

One more, because expression.

irritable look frm double-crested cormorant Phalacrocorax auritus
This would have had far less impact had the beak not been raised as much, but held up like that, we get that “you kids” disapproval, especially with the under-chin appearing stretched in a miserly way while still a little wrinkled. What you think you’re gonna use them breeding feathers for, old man?

That wasn’t the only species favoring me with dire looks, though. Apparently I wasn’t the most welcome around the pond yesterday.

yellow-bellied slider Trachemys scripta scripta showing eye stripe
Granted, yellow-bellied sliders (Trachemys scripta scripta) always look like this – there is no such thing as an expression of delight from any turtle, really. I’m featuring this one here for the eye, specifically the stripe, which must serve some purpose – I just don’t know what. But what I’ve noticed is how they usually hold their heads in just this position, so while they’re in the water but peeking out and searching for danger or basking spots, the stripe is aligned with the surface. This means something. Probably. Everything else will be speculation, so I’ll just leave it alone for now, and try to find someone to ask.

The next one wasn’t during the day, but at night during the same session as the previous post, where I’d crept closer under cover of the blinding headlamp.

American bullfrog Lithobates catesbeianus portrait
American bullfrogs (Lithobates catesbeianus) – or for that matter any frog – can often be said to look grumpy, but I think their expression is pretty neutral, myself; a resting frog face, as it were. While not the largest that I’ve seen, this one was pretty good sized, able to overlap my open palm; if it helps, this is a species that can (and does) eat mice. And damn near anything else, too. But they do have this wonderfully basso call.

We return to the daylight hours for a few more.

great blue heron Ardea herodias and reflection
A great blue heron (Ardea herodias) was being notably mellow as I circumnavigated the pond’s edge, and I got several close approaches without undue attention, much less flying off, but I liked this one for the reflection. I just missed a shot with a little minnow dangling from its mouth, a bit later in the day, but so it goes – I’ve got some nice sequences from previous sessions.

On my return leg, there was a bird that I didn’t recognize flitting around several trees nearby, and I managed to snag a decent identifying shot through some leaves as it paused.

eastern kingbird Tyrannus tyrannus perched
This is an eastern kingbird (Tyrannus tyrannus,) and possibly the first that I’ve photographed, even though they’re supposed to be fairly common – either I’ve been unlucky, or not paying attention, or they’re less common in this area than reputed (you know, by snickering ornithologists – we’ll go with this option.) The markings are distinctive, even while flying, because of that white underside and tail tip, but this one was in view for less than a minute before it disappeared off into some distant trees, probably to nurse the ouchies on its feet from landing on a thorn vine…

As I returned to the yard, I got back into my more typical subject matter.

white-banded crab spider Misumenoides formosipes on blackberry petal
Examining the scattered corner garden for any potential subjects, I took a closer look at an apparent bad spot on a petal of the blackberry bushes, because that’s the kind of thing that you do if you’re after arthropods. Sure enough, it wasn’t a bad spot (per se,) but a tiny little white-banded crab spider (Misumenoides formosipes) hanging out waiting for pollinators of an acceptable size. I’d had to go back in to get the macro flash rig, but this allowed me to go in closer for detail. Just so you know, the entire blossom isn’t 30mm across.

white-banded crab spider Misumenoides formosipes in detail
I really have to plant more flowers around the property, to attract more pollinators that will in turn attract more species like this, and get some action shots at some point. And I say this, knowing I have a bunch of seeds that have yet to be planted this year because I keep doing other things like posting and working. But it’s raining out there right now, so I gots an excuse. For a little while.

Put away the snacks

April 20, 2020 Al Denelsbeck

We all know what holiday is celebrated today, don’t we? No, no that, you pathetic teenager, I’m talking about Find Out Just How Many Green Treefrogs There Are Around Your Place, and as you might imagine, I’ve got this well in hand.

When we lived in the old place, I would be delighted to find the occasional Copes grey treefrog (Hyla chrysoscelis) here or there, perhaps a couple of times a year, but when we moved here, I started finding them a lot more often, eventually establishing a regular community of them with the addition of a small backyard pond. Yet, I really liked the green treefrogs (Hyla cinerea,) and commented about trying to establish more of them in the area.

It is safe to say, I have succeeded. Though how much of this I can take credit for is impossible to tell – in which case, I’ll take all of it.

The first to show up this year was in February, of all times – way early, as far as I was concerned, and the amount of times that the temperature has dropped to levels well below what the species prefers since then has been almost alarming; if frogs can actually feel annoyance, they’re annoyed. Even two nights ago it dropped to less than 10°C, which was just after finding these two.

The Girlfriend and I had been doing a bunch of yard work all around this potted hosta plant when I glanced down into the base of a broad leaf and found these two juveniles. I was busy and didn’t want to get the whole macro rig set up, so I simply shot them in natural light, which wasn’t the best move. A little later on one of them, prompted either by our proximity or the sunlight peeking into their shelter area, moved to a new location more hidden than this, so I lost my opportunity to get them together.

Yesterday, while venturing to the nearby pond to chase photos, I checked on the little roadside patch of yellow flag irises, or water irises (Iris pseudacorus, anyway) thriving in a drainage ditch that always has standing water. Sure enough, I spotted a few treefrogs therein, and returned at night when they frogs get more active (and I had the macro rig in hand.) Nearly all of those found were the same size as those in the hosta, likely last year’s brood, so it was a good year for green treefrogs, it seems.

Now, a small confession: the iris blossoms don’t last long, and I liked the complementary colors, so the image above was actually slightly staged. The frog therein originally appeared as it is to the right, deep among the reedy leaves, and I gently scooped it up and deposited it at the base of the blossom, where it posed quite professionally. So yeah, the frog didn’t go there on its own when I was around, but it was less than a meter away and living among the irises on its own, so sue me for tweaking it towards a much nicer composition. Everybody else was as found, including the one below, perched on a plant hanger in our front garden, a couple of meters from the front door.

I’ve been meaning to work on a small reflector for the opposite side of the flash, a fill lighting device to reduce the shadows on the far side, for a while now – I should really get on that.

In the back yard, we have a decorative tree stump, a lovely twisted and gnarled thing that looks like it should be haunted on its own, and some years back it served as a nesting spot for a tufted titmouse, but it’s been slowly taken over with climbing ivy, which is fine by us. Last evening, however, it was a perch instead.

This one seemed to be concentrating on something well above. Or maybe it was just looking for a Lyrid meteor – you never know. I found it during the first pass around the backyard, but when I returned after doing the ditch frogs, it had chosen a slightly different spot and pose on the same trunk.

As The Girlfriend pointed out, this one looks like it’s in the process of calling, but it’s not. Actually, despite the numbers, I have yet to hear any mating calls in the immediate vicinity, though I have heard them over near the pond in years past. We’ll just have to see how long it takes them to start now in the local colony.

And that’s not all of those that I found, just the most photogenic ones. But yeah, the holiday is well and truly covered on this end; how about yours?

This week needs some restraint

April 19, 2020 Al Denelsbeck

There’s a bunch of stuff going on this week that you should already be absolutely aware of and I could avoid posting entirely, but just in case…

This entire week is the Lyrids meteor shower, peaking around Tuesday but hey, meteor showers aren’t that predictable so if you have the time and the dark, clear skies, go for it at any time (though night is preferred, and 2 AM-ish is what to aim for.) For once, the moon will behave itself and stay very dark, in fact, mostly out of sight entirely because it’s the period of the new moon which places it close to the sun in the sky (from our perspective – this isn’t really noticeable on the moon.) But it helps to get as far away from all other lights as you can, and of course, make sure to remain at least two meters apart from anyone else because that way, if a meteor makes it all the way to the Earth’s surface, it’s most likely to only get one of you.

Earth Day falls on April 22, Wednesday, so make sure you look down at least once during the day and see what you’re standing on, but if you’re one of those wild, irrepressible people, you can go outside and do something earthy. That’s, I dunno, maintaining an elliptical orbit around something, or turning 15.0410686352° per hour, or shifting your magnetic pole around randomly – whatever you feel is the most amusing. Amateurs can go hiking or exploring or plant things or take stupid pictures that nobody wants to see, but yeah, no judgments…

It has apparently gone digital this year, so let’s see, that would be 1111.00001010100000111° per hour, or F.0A83795D134A6D5E12B5 if you prefer – I may well shoot some film that day, just to be perverse. You won’t see any evidence of that here, of course, because the interface is all digital, so you’ll have to come by the house…

And on Friday the 24th, we celebrate the 30th anniversary of the launch of the Hubble Space Telescope, or the HST if you’re cool. To celebrate, discard your glasses or contacts for the next 43 months (to simulate the error in the main mirror.) No, I’m being snarky now, since Hubble, I mean, HST, was responsible for a lot of findings even before this error was fixed, and an unprecedented amount since. You can check out the history at this link, and a gallery of photos at this one. You can also see how often I’ve posted about it myself, and some of my favorite findings, with this batch of posts. Meanwhile, we’ll have my own photo of the telescope overhead.

Hubble Space Telescope fake image, actually a model
Damn, this long lens is kicking it, isn’t it? No, I can’t do that to you: this is just a model I have, one of those Metal Earth sculptures, perched on the bird feeder and shot from below at night. I mean, it is the HST overhead, just not the real one.

By the way, a number of sites have featured a page where you can see what HST has photographed on your birthday, which is probably just a way for NASA to harvest your birth date and steal your identity. I did pull up what it photographed on its own anniversary, which wasn’t terribly impressive, so I’m featuring Jupiter’s moon Io against Jupiter itself, one of the few planetary images the telescope has obtained.

Io against Jupiter, by Hubble Space Telescope — *Io and its shadow against Jupiter, by Hubble Space Telescope in 1999. Credit: John Spencer (Lowell Observatory) and NASA*

And if all that wasn’t enough, I’m fairly certain that tomorrow is a holiday too, but I can’t remember exactly what yet. I should be back in a bit.

On this date 16

April 15, 2020April 15, 2020 Al Denelsbeck

sextuplet of stilt sandpipers Calidris himantopus on shore, Sanibel Island, Florida
Oh, cool! Our first entry from this date comes from 2009, and way down in Sanibel Island, Florida, on so-far-the-only trip The Girlfriend and I have taken together to that state (which we must rectify soon.) We kinda missed our timing on this, we meaning “you and I in regards to this post,” because a day earlier we, meaning “The Girlfriend and I in Florida,” had been in Venice at the Audubon Society Rookery, which is an amazing place for birds, but a lot of what I shot there was on slide film anyway, which I could scan and post because I know the dates and nothing says that I have to use digital images for this topic, but again, wrong date.

Anyway, what we (meaning- aw, forget it) have here is a gang of stilt sandpipers (Calidris himantopus,) possibly the only photos that I have of the species to be honest, which were stalking the tide’s edge as we (TG&I) were exploring a great beach for shells. This is, in fact, the original image that I used for a page-break graphic elsewhere, notably on the Podcasts page, because I liked the grouping. With those eye-stripes there’s almost a faint air of menace to them, like we’d be okay if we minded our own business but if not, they’d be all over us like stupid shit on social media. Or perhaps I’m reading too much into it.

But damn, that trip was eleven years ago.

Next up is from 2012.

salamander, possibly Mabee's salamander Ambystoma mabeei, on staged habitat
I can’t be entirely sure of the species, because so many of the salamanders in North Carolina look alike, but from the description this is a Mabee’s salamander (Ambystoma mabeei) – either that or one of several slimy salamander species in the region, and I don’t recall just how sticky this one was, but from the lack of soil adhering to it and past experience with slimy salamanders, I’m leaning towards a Mabee’s. This illustrates one of the difficulties with photographing black salamanders, which was a subject that helped prompt me to create my portable softboxes for the macro rig; they’re very deep black, but also very shiny and reflective, and typically this creates so much contrast that details become very obscure. Even here, where I suspect (from the body highlights) that I was using a reflector, you can see how the salalmander almost blends into the damp soil. This is a staged habitat, by the way, because the conditions where I found it were not at all amenable to macro work and I wanted some detail shots, so I created the typical conditions, did my photos, and then released it where I found it.

We’ll include another, because I’ve been too busy to produce much current blogorous content. This one shows better details, partially from being intentionally overexposed, but is not at all a natural habitat for them – they don’t tend to climb bushes or be seen in sunlight.

possibly Mabee's salmander Ambystoma mabeei placed on leaf for detail
This is a fresher, younger leaf than the next image below, even though they’re from the same plant (well, one of two identical and neighboring plants, anyway,) but yeah, it’s also blown out a bit, unnaturally bright. Below is more what you should expect to see.

two juvenile Chinese mantids Tenodera sinensis exploring an azalea bush The following year (that’d be 2013) was the first mantis hatching that I could observe and follow, and the juvies were swarming all over the azalea bushes and immediate environs. These are the ubiquitous Chinese mantis (Tenodera sinensis, though at that time I was calling them Tenodera aridifolia sinensis – I’m not sure at what point the Latin name was changed and I was likely behind, but so it goes.) This image could to be said to have a much more menacing aspect than above, or not, depending on how you’re seeing it, but the former is potentially more accurate – I have more than a suspicion that they may prey on one another if they get the opportunity, though I have never witnessed it myself. I have seen very few of them at this size feeding on anything, partially because they’re still very shy at this age and tend not to like me looming around. Though I did feed one an aphid (maybe even one of those seen here, since it was only three days later,) and it wasn’t terribly camera-shy.

But yeah, I couldn’t pass up this composition, could I? And so you know, they’re still very small here, no more than 15mm in body length.

What makes it special

April 12, 2020April 11, 2020 Al Denelsbeck

On this date, we remember the man from above, the carpenter’s son who changed the world for all humankind and brought in a whole new culture, outlook, and future by his selfless actions, regardless of how anyone personally feels about it within circles that somehow dismiss his presence. So today, let’s all keep him in our hearts, and strive to emulate the courage and convictions of Yuri Gagarin, the first human in space who, 59 years ago, sat atop a few million pounds of explosives in Vostok 1 to cross that forbidding threshold and bring us into the space age. Why? Where did you think I was going with all this?

Here in the US, we’re getting a little better about recognizing the accomplishments of the space programs without crass tribalism, but there are still too few people who have even heard his name, much less know anything at all about the man or the mission, so I encourage anyone who hasn’t or doesn’t to follow the link above to find out a bit more, and any others that they come across in a simple websearch. It’s hard for me to fathom how much the space programs have changed since then, in scope, technology, and most especially attitudes. I grew up on the US space program, and it’s one of the few things that I get nostalgic for; there are various models on my desk, and tucked away waiting to be built, that represent this focus, but as I typed this I realized that I didn’t have any Soviet examples. That’s been corrected now: a model of Vostok 1 should be on its way to me as this posts.

So have a Happy Gagarin Day everyone!

[Feel free to check out my thoughts on the fiftieth year anniversary, at this post. Also, for giggles this posted at 06:07 Universal Coordinated Time, the time that Vostok 1 lifted off, because I do stupid meaningless shit like that ;-)]

A post

April 11, 2020 Al Denelsbeck

pair of yellow-bellied sliders Trachemys scripta scripta on snag
I have found myself fairly busy for the past several days, but not in a way that can be reflected here too well, so with a few minutes to spare, I’m just doing a small update for my millions of imaginary followers, who have already flooded my inbox with imaginary e-mails asking me if I’m okay and when the hell I’m going to put up something new. This is what you get for being demanding.

Between work – that other job that helps pay bills and is in that way alone essential – and various house projects, I’ve been not only busy, but beating myself up a bit, crawling under cars and the house and up on the roof while the weather was amenable, which it no longer is, having turned colder again, so now I won’t be chasing any other critters for a few days even when I do have time. It’ll change back though, soon enough.

I’ve also been helping The Girlfriend with her projects, among them doing some video shooting and editing – not like I’m some kind of authority on it, but among the two people that she can actually ask for assistance right now, I’m the only one who’s done anything of the sort; the most experienced video editor in the household according to JD Power and Associates (no, that’s not at all true, because we didn’t give them a dime to make that claim.) Given that I still have to render video projects multiple times to find the balance of size and quality that I’m after, plus the search for the right free background music, this takes a long time for a brief video clip, but that’s the nature of the beast.

I’ve done a couple of local excursions, really not finding anything worth an entire post, but the occasional bit here and there.

male eastern bluebird Sialia sialis in tree
There’s the photo sorting, deleting all of those that don’t pass my exacting and stringent standards (let it go) and relegating the remainder into appropriate categories. I’d put this off for a little too long as usual, but it’s going faster than anticipated and I should be done with it today. This is also the opportunity to catch those images of interest that I didn’t immediately write about and set them aside for a later post, but most of the worthy ones have already been featured here.

And then the ongoing, little things, an ever-changing list. Among the items awaiting attention on my desk or otherwise:

Getting Linux to play nice with some exterior IP cameras to monitor the property, for critters and assholes;

Getting a webcam to work with Linux too, because I may be engaging in some online games and meetings soon. No, I don’t have a laptop with that shit built in, because laptops suck (just for the sake of it, I have three harddrives, 10Gb of RAM, expanded USB ports, and a multi-card reader installed on my system, all to support my normal activities, so you can keep your portable folding toys);

Cleaning the sensor in the 30D, which is notorious for attracting dust, though my habit of changing lenses in less-than-clean-room conditions just might be contributing to this;

Planting and transplanting a bunch of stuff – we’re a little behind on that too;

I was recently given a Bio Orb, a glass globe containing live dinoflagellates, so the obvious next step is to obtain photos of them through the microscope. The idea of capturing their bioluminescence is intriguing but most likely impossible without special equipment that I do not have. Nonetheless, I’ll at least make the attempt;

Along the same lines, I’ve had a zoom magnifier head for some time, having picked it up from university surplus, a bit of lab equipment that would fill the gap between macro lenses and microscopes very nicely, if I can get it in a useful mount – I’m almost there now, so pics and results will be forthcoming once I get the whole affair in order;

And there’s a big project that I’m not going to say a lot about right now, mostly because this may take a while to come to fruition, not at all helped by a) going about this in no approved manner, b) trying to tackle multiple aspects at once, and c) requiring a certain mood, motivation, and block of free time. When it all comes together, however, you’ll be sure to hear about it here.

So hang loose, more is on the way, and in the meantime, I leave you with another mantis image that I neglected to put into the appropriate post about a week ago. How could I miss this one?

newborn Chinese mantis Tenodera sinensis standing upright between two leaves

On this date 15

April 8, 2020April 7, 2020 Al Denelsbeck

unidentified red ant in extreme closeup
Way back in the shady mists of time, called by some, “2013,” we have this image of an unidentified red ant species. Age has ravaged my memory now, so I cannot recall the exact circumstances, but there’s this nagging suspicion that the nights had been fairly cold when I turned over a rock in the morning and revealed a colony of rather large red ants; their sluggishness from the temperature allowed me to draw in very close without having to try and lock focus onto any typical antlike hyperactivity. Now, I said, “rather large,” but that’s as far as ants go in North America, which is a maximum of 10mm or so in length – much better than the tiny red ants I find sometimes, but not exactly massive either. And I must note, this is the entire frame. I believe I was using the 45mm from the Mamiya M645 series bodies, reversed, to get this magnification, and I haven’t done that in a while, having switched over to the reversed 28-105. But that (broken) lens has a fixed aperture, and the Mamiya 45mm has an adjustable one, so perhaps I should start using it again.

Below is a full-resolution crop of the same frame, to show the eye details.

full resolution inset of same frame showing eye ommatidia facets
At this resolution, it could perhaps be sharper, but that’s not too shabby at all, especially for a handheld shot – how often do you get to see the individual ommatidia of an ant? And while the depth of field doesn’t seem huge, it still seems better than the 28-105. I’ll have to run some tests, only not on ants, unless they’re dead. That’s not bigotry – some of my best friends are ants – it’s just a movement and frustration thing.

Another, from the next year.

unidentified pink and yellow flower
Nothing terribly exciting here, and no real accomplishment – I include it for the color and diversity, because the other potential images were more arthropods. But it marks one thing in particular: this is right after I purchased the (used) Canon 30D body, in fact the 28th frame. I have no idea how many frames it had fired off before I got it, but I’ve kept track of what I did, at least. This body had been my workhorse camera until just three months or so back when I got the (used – I almost never buy new) Canon 7D body, but it still comes into play when I need a second camera, like when the 7D is being used for video.

How much use was that, you ask?

unidentifed white wildflowers with unidentified orb weaver spider within
This is also from this date, only now it’s from 2017. I said the flower above was the 28th pic; this was the 40,566th. In three years. At present, I’ve shot 59,924 frames through it, but bear in mind, in there I also got a T2i body to have something that would also do video – it’s extraneous now, and may be sold soon. That one only has 5,600 frames that I’ve run through it.

While I’m at it, the top photo of the ant was done through the original grey bodied Digital Rebel, the DReb as I call it, or the 300D as it’s known in other countries – that reached 61,000 images before I retired it. I suppose that makes it more of a workhorse than the 30D…

One more trivial bit: this post from 2011 actually marks the oldest digital photos that I have from this date, and the first time capturing newborns mantids in detail. Things change (he says tritely.)

A little Monday evening activity

April 6, 2020 Al Denelsbeck

jet and contrail lit by sunset
So the day was bright and clear all day, barely a hint of cloud in the sky, and I got a few outdoor tasks done, but had switched to indoor work after the allergies went completely berserk, so I was surprised in late afternoon by The Girlfriend telling me that it was pouring out. Seems we’re getting Florida weather right now, the fast-moving cell that sneaks in and dumps a deluge and gets away before anyone can snag an ID; in ten minutes the sun was back out, though the sky remained a bit scattered with clouds. I made it a point to be out a little later on to catch the sunset, hoping for some nice clouds to play with.

You can already see this coming, can’t you? Yep – not a single wisp of cloud in the sky come sunset, which makes things extremely boring. But as a commercial airliner passed over at high altitude, someplace a few hundred kilometers away seemed to be getting some colors in their sky, because the jet and contrail turned brilliant pink, filtered by clouds well over the horizon. Well, you take what you get.

Soon afterward, The Girlfriend and I watched a green heron (Butorides virescens) spook from a perch in the trees and fly a short distance away to land at the edge of the pond. It was already too dark to do much about it, but I kept an eye on the bird in case it decided to return to a perch nearby, since it was closing in on roosting time. Instead, it flew a very short distance to land at the water’s edge in a highly accessible spot, and stayed put even as evening walkers (kind of like White Walkers except not at all) breezed past, so I made my careful way in that direction, to find the heron perched low and motionless right out in the open.

silhouetted green heron Butorides virescens in hunting mode
No color at all from the sky, but at least it was throwing enough light down to be reflected from the water and give me a sleek silhouette. Green herons are notoriously shy birds, especially around this pond where I have stalked them for years with very few good photos to show for it. But I moved closer a step or two at a time, and it did nothing but ease forward ever-so-slightly, watching the water for minnows.

silhouetted green heron Butorides virescens creeping further out
Notice the lower and more stretched profile, and the hind leg now showing further out behind it – this is a lot easier to see in comparison, after the fact, than it was when I was slipping closer myself. All of these, by the way, were with the carry-around 100-300 L, since I hadn’t gone out to chase birds and so didn’t bring the big lens. They’re cropped a little but not a lot – I got within five or six meters of the bird, remarkably close given their propensity.

But silhouettes only go so far, so I popped up the little on-camera flash, outside of its proper working distance (which isn’t much,) to throw a little light on the heron from the shady side where I stood – there was no chance at all of my getting around to the twilightlit side.

green heron Butorides virescens barely lit by fill flash
The effect, I have to admit, is pretty cool, subtle and a little ominous from that reflection in the eye. And the heron never twitched at all from this, intent as it was on its hunting.

I had to tweak that image a little, correcting for the blue twilight and brightening it a tad, and it really doesn’t look bad for all that. It’s a shameless edit, but at least I’m telling you it is. That makes it okay.

same image with tweaked brightness and color register
And it does give you a better idea of their actual coloration, but yeah, I need to be out there stalking them a lot more often. I do have some decent photos of the species, and if you want to see them, click here for the list.

In a moment, the heron made a strike at a fish, coming up empty-beaked, and abandoned its stealthy demeanor and pose, standing more upright and doing its best to imitate an indignant kiwi by shaking the water from its feathers.

green heron Butorides virescens after unsuccessful strike, with fill flash
And that was it – in a flash it had flown off again for another spot, and the photo session was over. But hey, it made up for the crappy sunset.

Now, wait! Isn’t it Moon Face Monday? I’ve been forgetting all about that! The moon was just appearing through the trees as I turned my attention away from the heron (actually, The Girlfriend pointed it out, so credit to her,) and I positioned myself to snag a shot through the intervening branches.

99% full moon through trees
If you look closely at the bottom left, you can see some definition from mountains and craters, indicating that we’re not quite at full phase, but another indication is that it was fairly high in the sky not long after sunset; at full, the moon pretty much rises as the sun sets, and vice versa. Again, this is the 100-300 L, handheld at that, and not an intentional moon shooting session. We’ll compare that to a shot taken four days ago on April 2nd.

waxing gibbous moon from April 2
Now, this is with the long lens, the Tamron 150-600 to be exact – I took it while I was out trying to capture Venus among the Pleiades cluster. Which I also got, but given the huge difference in relative magnitude, either Venus would be blown out or the stars of Pleiades would be ridiculously dim, plus there was the motion of the Earth to contend with for longer exposures, so none of the images that I obtained were worthwhile; further such attempts will wait until I have a decent astronomical tracking mount. But the moon looks nice, and it’s a good illustration of how much the phase changes in four days.

Big honkin’ bug post

April 3, 2020 Al Denelsbeck

newborn Chinese mantids Tenodera sinensis upside down under leaves
That title’s an homage to a coworker of mine from history back, who described a spider in that manner and sparked a bizarre mental image…

So around Walkabout Studios, as I said earlier, are arranged several egg sacs (“oothecas”) of Chinese mantises (Tenodera sinensis,) specifically so I can photograph them in various life stages, including hatching. Along for the ride are two Carolina mantis (Stagmomantis carolina) egg sacs that arrived with our shed, and an egg cluster of wheel bugs (Arilus cristatus,) all of which I’ve been trying to keep my eyes on. The first of the Chinese mantis sacs hatched out not quite a week back, but I was a hair too late to capture their moment of emergence. But then, checking on the wheel bug eggs a few days ago, I found I was a bit too late for them, too, seeing that it was liberally clouded with bebe wheels. When hatched, they’re yellow-orange in body color, which changes to black within a few hours (the abdomen stays brilliant red for a few weeks though,) so finding them with black bodies means I was at least a few hours too late.

newborn wheel bugs Arilus cristatus congregating around egg cluster
I was hoping to see some late arrivals and set up both the still-camera high mag macro rig and the video rig, but captured very little of interest; in the process of trying to clear the area beneath the fence of undergrowth and poison ivy (should have done that sooner, but to be honest it wasn’t growing much more than a week ago,) I spooked the spidery sprogs around the edge of the fence and only had a foolhardy few to work with. I did what I could, but wrote off any detailed sequences or video for this species.

Giving that up, I was passing a white azalea bush that overhangs the fence and stopped to do a few flower photos, and suddenly realized that I was staring at another mantis egg cluster at eye level, smack in the process of hatching. Well, alrighty then! I got the taller tripod down and set up shop, and this time, my timing was bang on. This is a much longer video than the previous, because I was able to catch some specific events.

I have to note that, after a couple of years of unsuccessful attempts, including seven egg cases that I paid for and never hatched, I was able to get what I was after this year with an egg case that I didn’t even know was there…

But we need some more detail pics of course.

Chinese mantis Tenodera sinensis emerging from egg case ootheca among earlier hatchlings
Dead center is one at the moment of emergence – well, that all depends on how you measure it, because it’s been seeing daylight for a minute or three at this point, but it’s also not yet out, so whatevs. An earlier hatchling hangs out on the case above, observing I guess, and one that appears to have gotten trapped and died, brown and dessicated, is immediately to the right. You can also see some of the molted “chaff” hanging from its anchor thread, appearing to be erupting from the head of the new emergent, but that’s just coincidental.

I went out a little later on when the light had shifted for some wider shots.

egg sac ootheca of Chinese mantids Tenodera sinensis showing newly hatched, molts, and unsuccessful hatches
Most of what you see above are ones that didn’t make it, for whatever reasons – tangled in the threads, or simply not viable, or what have you. But there are a few live ones, easily distinguished by their upright stance and antennae and so on. Then we’ll back off to see the blossom at the end of that branch.

newly hatched Chinese mantids Tenodera sinensis hanging out above egg sac ootheca
A handful of them were hanging out under cover just above the case, while plenty of others adopted similar poses at various other nearby locations – some of them lose their footing and drop, only to snag leaves further down, and even if they make it all the way to the ground (better than a meter and a half from here,) they have so little weight and momentum that it has no ill effect whatsoever.

But I also backed off a little more to show the context, and how easy it would be to miss the case itself if you’re weren’t looking carefully.

hatched egg sac ootheca of Chinese mantids Tenodera sinensis among azalea blossoms
I probably sound like I’m being defensive for not spotting this earlier, but this actually sits outside our fence where I almost never go. Still, I got the crucial moments that I was after, so believe what you want.

I couldn’t resist the expressive posture I found, either.

newborn Chinese mantis Tenodera sinensis peering over edge of leaf towards egg case ootheca
It certainly looks like it’s viewing the egg case intently, but I suspect it simply dropped something off the leaf…

I went out front to the rosemary bush to check on the new arrivals from a few days previously, and couldn’t actually find any – the bush was notably bare, and while I will certainly admit to missing a few, given their size, their ability to conceal themselves, and the density of the bush, I wouldn’t miss dozens. They appear to have abandoned the rosemary, leading me to believe that they didn’t like it, but I have plenty of photos of previous mantids hanging out on the same bushes, so I have my doubts. However, on the purple azalea bush nearby – one much smaller and offering much less concealment and camouflage than a rosemary – I did at least spot one.

new Chinese mantis Tenodera sinensis after moving to azalea bush
The color made a nice backdrop, I admit – the various azaleas are vivid this spring.

Okay, for each photo, I type a meta-tag description that includes the subject’s common and Latin names, and I’m damned tired of typing “Tenodera sinensis,” so let’s move on.

I did a little poking around the back yard afterward, both examining the other cases and looking for further activity on this gorgeous day, and on the gardenia bushes found a few other little subjects.

possible long-legged sac spider Cheiracanthium inclusum in web lair under leaf
Underneath one leaf sat what may be a long-legged sac spider (Cheiracanthium inclusum) in a breeding nest, probably – leave it to me to pin down all the details. Sac spiders are rather intriguing; some of them may have a potent venom, in that some people have reported strong reactions to them, and are occasionally considered dangerous, though not to the extent of widows or recluses, but among entomologists the jury is still out, it seems. I’ve seen these all over the backyard, but they’re small enough that even if this particular species’ bite was reactive, the circumstances where they could successfully bite someone are few and far between, so I don’t worry about it. The telltale features are the pale and translucent body color and the over-length forelegs.

Under another leaf on the same bush sat something that has yet to be identified.

unidentified small insects on underside of leaf
closeup of unidentified small insect I had to turn the leaf over to expose them to the sun (that’s my thumbtip in the corner,) and it was making them antsy, so these shots lack the detail I can usually obtain. I have only the faintest idea what these might be, because they resemble the springtails that I’ve found on water surfaces, but they’re much bigger and of course not on or near the water. The larger one among the smaller gives the impression of a mother and brood, but the closer look makes them all appear to be juvenile/nymph form, so that pretty much exhausts my guesses regarding the species, and I simply don’t feel like submitting them to BugGuide.net right now – this post has been delayed long enough, plus I’m not that interested in them anyway. We’ll just call them doodlebugs because it seems appropriate and leave it at that. Professionalism all the way.

On this date 14

April 1, 2020March 30, 2020 Al Denelsbeck

northern black widow Latrodectus variolus showing eye reflection
Eight years ago this very day, I was endeavoring not to get bitten while attempting to actually photograph the bitey bits. I succeeded in the former but failed in the latter, still producing this enigmatic (so I say) portrait.

Those red marks are a clue of course, and the fact that they’re markS and not A mark tells you this is the northern variant – specifically, a northern black widow (Latrodectus variolus.) The hourglass on the belly of the northern subspecies is split, broken, divorced, call it what you like, but it’s two marks instead of one, with some additional markings on the back because the northerner is an attention whore. We have both species around here, by the way. What I was trying for were the chelicerae, the fangs, which are remarkably small, tucked tightly to the face, and just as jet black as the rest of the spider (save for the red bits,) which makes them next to impossible to photograph. This was not helped by not having a macro flash rig at this point that was adequate to the job, though it did produce a menacing reflection from two of the eyes, which is perhaps spookier than if it got four or eight reflections. In most circumstances, not being bitten by a black widow is quite easy, because they’re shy and tend to avoid contact enthusiastically, but irritating them like I was doing by trying to get the precise angle needed for the shot is a great way of failing to not be bitten. Some indication of this state of mind of the spider can be seen emanating from the spinnerets: harassed widows will emit a nasty-tasting fluid among their web strands to discourage those that haven’t heard of their normal reputation. Expert that I am, I avoided any taste of that, too.

There’s another reason for posting this image: my cousin’s birthday is today – no kidding – and he’s allergic to spiders. I figured he’d like a closeup of something that he wouldn’t normally get very close to.

American five-lined skink Plestiodon fasciatus basking near azalea bush And another, from the exact same day – busy busy busy! (Actually, it’s a very rare day indeed that, if I actually start taking photos, I only photograph one subject.) And technically this is two frames, blended together into an animated gif (pronounced “gesh-TALT”). The sun went behind a cloud while I was shooting, and the two frames were so close together except for the lighting effects that I had to overlay them – a slight tweak in position lined them up perfectly. The appearance and disappearance of the shadows is obvious, but if you look closely, you might also be able to see the color register change, especially if you look at the body of the skink itself (oh, yeah, this is an American five-lined skink again, Plestiodon fasciatus.) The shaded version gets a bit of a blue register to it. I’m used to spotting this now, plus I had the two images side by side in the folders to compare, which is what prompted me to overlay them so it was more obvious, rather than simply showing them alongside one another where the effect might not be as clear to those not used to doing color corrections.

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