… but I’m doing what little I can to avoid being too deep into it. Meaning we’re going to briefly lean away from the same subject matter for a little bit (meaning, “a post,”) before we go right back to the same rut again. So here are the, um, other subjects from yesterday’s trip to the lake.
As we (meaning the Irascible Mr Bugg and I) walked form the parking spot down to the beach access, we could hear the chorus frogs sounding off in a drainage ditch, another sign of spring, though as we got closer, naturally the sounds stopped. We paused, searching for the source and knowing full well that chorus frogs are notoriously good at remaining hidden. This one was not quite as accomplished, however:
Not any of the local chorus frog species, but a green frog instead (Lithobates clamitans,) which makes it about three times the size while still not large – chorus frogs are tiny. I wasn’t even sure of the species identification on this one, given our view, until I got back home and examined the frames closely, but you can even see here the dark line shadow running down the back from behind the eye, delineating the telltale veinlike ridge that the species has. It certainly was not sounding off with the chorus frogs, because their call is distinctly different.
The entire time we were out shooting, we’d be hearing a belted kingfisher (Megaceryle alcyon) chattering madly in their manner while racing around not too far away, but never even got the faintest glimpse of it, and I finally got frustrated enough to try and track it down. Eventually a pair made an appearance, but still in such a way that clear views were not available, not at all helped by the light conditions of the day, and so this was the best that I got as one flitted past:
One of the species that I’m still trying to obtain a decent portrait of, yesterday was certainly not the day – but I got dem spots on the tail at least. That’s not much consolation, to be honest.
But I’ve still had better luck than with the next.
This is a pie-billed grebe (Podilymbus podiceps,) a species that I’m starting to become mildly obsessed with. I’ve seen them several times now, and not once well enough to obtain any images that weren’t shit. It’s always been at least 30 meters off (these are both cropped) and often in poor light, and they’re notably shy waterfowl.
The size doesn’t help, because they’re about half the size of an average duck, or less, and will dive under if they feel the least bit threatened. There was a pair on the lake yesterday, but they soon moved further off, despite my assurances that I’d make them stars.
I had better luck with the next two, though.
While chasing pics of the “others,” a few tutfted titmouses (which I think is the correct pluralization, but Baeolophus bicolor anyway,) lit into the trees nearby, briefly, but one was close enough and waited long enough for me to rack the focus back in from waaayyyy out there in “other” territory, though it wasn’t quite cooperative enough to show off the namesake crest of feathers atop its head. It’s one of the many hyperactive little birds in the area that make faint little noises and can go completely unnoticed if you’re distracted by virtually anything. While the next are often hard to miss.
Yeah, I’ve got enough pics of great blue herons (Ardea herodias herodias,) but the pose, sharpness, and rendition of the background were nice enough to warrant another appearance – I think they look a little bit better in low contrast light, actually. And I had to check just now, but that bright spot isn’t a leg band, just some white-tipped feathers in the tail.
And finally,
In the US and Canada, these are known as Bartlett pear (well, the blossoms thereof,) while elsewhere it might be Williams pear or Williams’ bon chrétien pear, but Pyrus communis anyway, a European cultivar. They’re among the first trees to blossom out in the early spring, vying with the redbuds, found in numerous places as wild species though it doesn’t appear that they started that way. I’ve never seen them bear fruit and it may be that, like apples, they cannot unless they go through a decent cold spell, but at least they’re a nice indication that winter is being ushered out the door. We might have to get one in the yard here at Walkabout Estates.
But this means that, very soon, we’re back to too many pics of a species you’ve seen enough of already. Don’t touch that mouse.