I gotta drop a backlog

May 6, 2025 Al Denelsbeck

Hoo boy! Lose internet for four days (don’t ask,) and suddenly I have a shitload of things to post, on top of the things that I already had waiting. It’s gonna be a while to catch it all up, plus tomorrow is going to be busy so not only will I make no progress then, I might even add to the backlog. In the meantime, I present a blue flag iris (Iris versicolor,) one of many that popped up in the puddle, as we call it, the same one where the wood ducks explored that one time and is now almost dry, certainly not swimmable by even a minnow. You may recall the yellow flag irises that were near the old place, but I definitely like the blue better.

More to come!

Estate Find XIIX (deal with it)

May 2, 2025May 1, 2025 Al Denelsbeck

This one’s several days old now, but it fits, unless I find something better today (I’m typing this Thursday to have it ready, but will happily bump it as needed.) Out once again with the headlamp at night, I saw a dark spot at the edge of the lawn near the front door that I was pretty sure hadn’t been there before.

Despite the fact that this one was found not three meters from a previous mud turtle, this is not the same species as that, but a common musk turtle (Sternotherus odoratus) instead. And the reason why she’s semi-buried in the soft earth and has her neck extended like that is, she’s laying eggs.

This does, naturally, please me, since it couldn’t be easier to monitor the nest, and it now has two markers alongside it so I’m careful with mowing and weeding. Musk turtles never get very big, and she seemed to be a small specimen, as the next image attests to somewhat.

You can see the white clover blossoms peeking in there – she wasn’t more than 90mm in carapace length, though I was already disturbing her by getting down this low (you see that she’s retracted her neck now,) so I wasn’t going to make it worse by trying to measure her. The yellow stripes along the head are the best identifying characteristics, differentiating her from the various mud turtles that are almost the same size and coloration, certainly very similar carapace shapes. A few hours later, she had disappeared, and I tracked down to the pond to see if I could see her returning, but no dice.

I looked up the gestational period to know when to start monitoring the environs for signs of their hatching, and got wildly conflicting reports: 65-80 days from some sources, but 100-150 according to Wikipedia. That’s a hell of a big gap, and a long time for turtle eggs to hatch (my experience has been that it’s typically around two months,) so I’m going to assume that their source is terrible, or they were taking measurements in a cold climate – multiple other sources put the figure at 65-85 days, so I’m going to begin checking near the end of June. The newly hatched are quite small, usually less than 25mm in length, so they should be adorable, but perhaps quite hard to spot if I don’t actually catch them emerging.

Musk turtles are very aquatic, not even basking very much but typically using branches to do so; otherwise they’re usually found on the lake or stream bottoms walking along and poking for food down there. Really, their big trips out of the water are for exactly this purpose, so I’m glad I caught it. Hopefully, in about eight to twelve more Estate Finds you’ll see the aftermath – the newly hatched turtles will have to cover better than 50 meters of lawn to return to the pond, but that still appears better than some of the treks the pond sliders have covered to lay eggs.

Filthy filthy filthy

April 30, 2025 Al Denelsbeck

This is just to let you know that another meteor shower is coming up, actually taking place as I type this, though the peak is in a few days – it is also to squeeze one more pic out of April. The Eta Aquariids is expected to peak on the night of May 5^th and 6^th, so feel free to make the attempt anytime in the next week or so, since the moon is cooperating this time at least.

The pic above is to indicate that I did try for the past shower, the Lyrids, and got bupkiss – I saw one slow, unimpressive meteor, but captured nothing in images save for a small streak that I later found in consecutive frames, indicating that it was a slow and dim satellite, though I didn’t bother to try and determine which. Visible in the photo are Ursa Major (The Big Dipper) at top, Denebola (the tail of the lion in constellation Leo) under the chimney, and Arcturus peeking through the trees at left. Plenty of dim stars in there that I would never have seen by eye, but no meteors. As showers go, just about everything that I’ve witnessed has been remarkably dry, so I’m pretty stinky by now, meteor-wise anyway. One of these days, however…

Well, I’m sure you have things to do, April

April 30, 2025April 29, 2025 Al Denelsbeck

Sure, it’s the end of the month, but which end? Oh, yeah, that one…

That leads us inexorably to the month-end abstract, and to a dictionary to find out how to properly pronounce, “inexorably,” but hopefully one that doesn’t use all those special pronunciation characters like, “/ɪn’ɛk.sə.ɹə.bli/” – who the fuck can read that? I bet anyone that can is a load of fun at parties. Regardless, we have this:

Now see? That’s a proper abstract – I really can accomplish them from time to time. No, this wasn’t a guest photographer, shut up. But when the sun was shining through one of the two Japanese maples that were already established in the yard when we moved in, it was a simple matter to pick the ones that had the best effects and a texture you can almost feel. Go ahead – reach out and touch your monitor. It’ll feel the same way it always does, but you’ll imagine something else anyway.

We’ll throw a couple more down, since we have them.

Yeah, I’ve done this before, but it’s a fun experiment. This is simply a collection of coals from a fire hours before, still smoldering in the fire pit, that I stirred up during the 30-second exposure at night. But if you’re paying attention you’ll see there’s a faint pattern, and may realize that a lot of the coals are duplicated, because as I came back to the camera after stirring them I bumped the tripod leg – smoove.

But that leads to this, naturally:

A simple effect, but one that takes a light touch, since this is racking the 18-135mm lens from wide to tele in that thirty seconds. Shaking and bumping and even less-than-steady zooming shows easily, so care must be taken – I actually used both hands on the zoom ring to keep the motion as smooth and regular as possible. If you zoom faster but then run out a few seconds at the long end, zoomed in tighter, then you’ll get fainter trails with bright ends, like flaming fragments leaving a path behind them. Here, the effect is very faint but more in the center, occurring at the wider/shorter focal length instead, which for me was the beginning of the exposure as I gently got my hands into position. You can always zoom in the opposite direction too, tele to wide, and use little tricks like covering the lens with a soft cloth until your hands are in position and can start the movement right away. Be creative.

Okay, that’s enough red/orange – let’s find something else.

Chasing out the spiders

April 29, 2025 Al Denelsbeck

Okay, finally updated the Latest Images gallery, so now it’s time to clear out a few more from the backlog of photos from the past couple of weeks. Right now these will be spiders, only a few, but impressive specimens, all from three nights ago and all from a span of eleven minutes.

Now, when I’m out with the headlamp at night, the reflections from spider eyes are distinct and frequent: they’re always blue-green in color, and might twinkle as the spider moves but the color doesn’t shift like dew will. If I wanted to see how many I could score in a night, it would be dozens, easily, but most of those would be wolf spiders since they’re the most active on the ground as well as the easiest to spot by reflection. With a misting bottle I might get quite a few more – dog knows I walk through enough webs strung among the bamboo. The ones you’re about to see were noticeable even without making the effort, and I present them in reverse order of my finding them.

I recalled photographing something like this before, and I don’t have any more identifying characteristics this time around, so I’ll simply say it was a nursery web spider (Genus Pisaurina,) and leave it at that. The leg spread was an estimated 30-40mm, and it was quite obvious on the large leaves. It was content to remain in place as I maneuvered for a decent angle.

The next was indeed found by its eye reflections, but notable in that the reflections were visibly higher/closer than the background leaves, indicating that this might be a large specimen for its legs to lift it a visible amount.

Those two eyes sitting high and further back from the front of the cephalothorax (‘head’) peg this easily as a wolf spider (Family Lycosidae,) though the size and locale help too, and of course we have an egg sac carried in typical fashion; many species do this. But we don’t have to guess her size from the bamboo leaves nor from my estimates, because we have a proper scale shot:

I print these out with my business cards every once in a while and carry a few in my wallet because, you know, always be prepared (I had to toss the condoms out to have room.) This one was complacent enough to allow me to place the scale alongside her, so you can see that body length is in the realm of 20mm, while leg spread exceeds 50 – not the largest that I’ve seen, but impressive nonetheless. The sparkles on her abdomen are likely from the dew just starting to form.

The worst, however, was the first.

I was advancing along the beaver crossover between the creek and the pond, where I’d also photographed the wood duck, looking carefully to try and spot anything in the water, when this specimen descended from the trees right in front of me. Easily the biggest leg spread of the three, and it paused just above eye level and fiddled with its webline, allowing me to snag this shot. Then I tried switching over to manual focus because autofocus kept wandering, and as I looked down at the lens to get the correct switch (I have a beef with lens manufacturers in that they a) always put this switch in a different location, even on other lenses from the same manufacturer, and b) often put it alongside other switches that feel exactly the same, necessitating that you look at the lens to ensure you have the correct one,) and when I looked back up after that brief second, the spider was nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t small enough to disappear into the leaf litter too readily, plus it had a two-meter descent down to it, and almost the same to return to the branches where the web was anchored. Wherever it went, it went with record speed and vanished completely, and even though I’m getting used to spiders and know this was a harmless species (I really only have to rule out two for this area,) my lingering arachnophobia wasn’t pleased with the sudden disappearance of a large spider that was that close in the first place. The large pedipalps, those two balls right in the center of the image, peg this as a male, but my initial searches on a rough description didn’t turn up any matches, so I can’t even hazard a guess as to which species this is. I thought it bore a resemblance to the golden silk orbweaver, but the males of that species look entirely different from this, so no.

So only three, not enough to call it a night of big spiders, but again, some impressive specimens in the time it takes to hard-boil an egg. Efficient, at least…

Sweep out the amphibians

April 27, 2025 Al Denelsbeck

I’ve got a minor backlog of images to work through – nothing breathtaking, just the various things found around the property that aren’t really Estate Finds, but I’ve been getting plenty of pics and you might as well see some of them. So we’re going to start with the amphibians.

This one – the same exact individual – was featured before, peeking from the same exact burrow, but I might have misidentified it then. I called it an American toad (Anaxyrus americanus,) but there’s a chance that it’s actually a southern toad (Anaxyrus terrestris); the distinguishing difference are the large knobs sitting on the back of the head, behind and inwards from the eyes, and none of my photos are adequate to determine if they’re present or not. Southern toads did not really reach as far inland as we used to live, so I got used to knowing it was always American toads there, but now things are different. Which also includes this species:

The pale stripe that’s visible down the middle of the back of this high-contrast specimen indicates that this is a Fowler’s toad (Anaxyrus fowleri,) – I think, anyway, because it also has some bulges on the back of the head. I’ve long held the view that too many of the sources of identification of species fail to have adequate images to illustrate what they mean by “less pronounced cranial crests that are flush with the parotoid glands,” and it occurs to me that I can actually be someone that corrects that. I’m often inclined to take photos in situ and not in studio or while handling, but in these cases that’s simply the best way to see those identifying characteristics clearly. And of course I’m thinking this now that none of them are immediately available.

Meanwhile, I will show you the shamelessly posed one, though all I did was place the toad in a different location – this seductive expression is all on the toad:

The flower pales in comparison, doesn’t it?

Okay, now things get interesting, because right here, I stopped this post as lightning was moving into the area and I went out to try for pics. This was completely unsuccessful (I have noticed that lightning strike plotters are notoriously inaccurate for this region, often off by kilometers,) but on returning, I found a toad right alongside the car, recognizing it as a southern toad. Since I had just typed that bit above about doing my own identification images, I snatched this toad up for a photo session.

Only a hair away from a ‘wild’ shot, I simply set her down on the front walk, because she was pretty complacent, and I could light those cranial knobs distinctly. She was a little less complacent about the hind leg shots…

… even though there are no identifying characteristics here, yet the Fowler’s toad does, so this is for comparison. Relax – she was being held gently, even though she didn’t like having her leg held out. And then the belly shot…

… which primarily shows the lack of a dark spot, once again indicating that this is not a Fowler’s, and the pale throat, which indicates that this is a female. Seriously, trying to be even a little knowledgeable about the species found in any area can take a fair amount of internet research.

It gets worse, though. I went through older images to demonstrate the difference with the American toad, and found that more than a few of my toad images were indeed of southern toads, like that below from four years ago.

However, the map at Herps of NC.org showing the southern toad’s range specifically excludes the two counties I was photographing them within, highlighted in pale blue at right. Which goes to show you that online sources can be out of date or simply incomplete, so trusting them implicitly isn’t perhaps the best move. Anyway, I do still have a comparison image of a true American toad, also from four years ago:

All that was a sidetrack from what I’d already planned to write about, and while getting those images, I got another that’s on topic and even a little fartsy, so we’ll throw it in here:

This is a very tiny Copes grey treefrog (Dryophytes chrysoscelis) perched on one of our decorative wind spinners, this one on the back deck. It had moved from its initial position as I tried for a good angle, but allowed me to get this one instead, so we’re good.

And now, back to our fun with identification. These were from a few weeks back.

So, there are two species of frog that look about like this: the pickerel frog, and the southern leopard frog. While I believe I heard the calls of the latter earlier this year, I can often hear the calls of the former, so no real help there. The distinguishing characteristics for the leopard frog are more ‘squarish’ spots long the side and a white spot on the tympanum, the external eardrum, while the pickerel frog has yellow or orange on the concealed parts of the hind legs, which of course you cannot see in any normal conditions.

While this one was nice enough to let me get both sides, the spots are pretty inconclusive, aren’t they? And that’s not a ‘white’ spot on the tympanum, but certainly paler. Except, the example images provided at that same website show specimens without the spot at all.

However, based on this specimen found a few days ago in almost the exact location, I’m going to go with these being southern leopard frogs (Lithobates sphenocephalus) and have done with it. The pale spot on the tympanum being missing doesn’t necessary rule one out as a leopard frog, but if I see it there, even faintly, I’m ruling that this is enough to count. Unless the call sounds wrong, but I never see one when they’re calling. In fact, there are a couple of different species in the pond that are calling as I’m standing there with the headlamp, and I can never spot them even though I know they’re right there.

No questions about this one, though:

Just the size would have been enough, since nothing else grows this big, about the size of my closed fist; this is an American bullfrog (Lithobates catesbeianus.) The coloration is also a clue, but more distinct is the ‘vein’ running from the back edge of the eye.

On the green frog, the only other species around here that appears close, the ridge from the back side of the eye runs all the way down the back, but for the bullfrog, it only curls down behind the tympanum and ends there. The call of the bullfrog is also quite distinctive, though I have yet to hear them calling here at the new place.

No problems with this one either, as it’s another Copes grey treefrog, this time perched on the potted ginkgo (Ginkgo biloba) tree on the deck, almost immediately under the spinner seen earlier, though this one is three times the size of the previously pictured specimen. That pale spot under the eye seems to develop, even very faintly, before any other markings, and I’ve identified some very young specimens from that little spot. Now, these are identical to the common grey treefrog, distinguishable in the field only by their call, but North Carolina seems to host only the Copes for some reason. Though now I don’t trust that as much.

Another appearance of the eastern spadefoot (Scaphiopus holbrookii,) whose coloration seems to almost entirely lack any of the browns that the other toads typically have; the last few specimens have been primarily grey-olive, but the pale green hue to the irises are also a telltale. I have yet to hear any calling, but I’ll endeavor to get recordings of it when it happens. This one is doing the species’ typical hunting practice, which is to sit in the mouth of its burrow and wait for crickets to wander past, though to be honest, I’ve found them outside of the burrow more often than within. As I changed angle for another frame, it drew back down into the burrow further.

By the way, I’ve examined all of those that I’ve come across, save for this one, and have seen no sign of the one with the injured hindleg. Did it heal? Did it not survive? Can’t say.

And finally,

This very young green treefrog (Dryophytes cinereus) was splayed out rather lankily on this large leaf last night, drawing in a little before I got close enough to get the photograph. It was aware of my presence and a little anxious, but I managed to get around for a better portrait angle before it leapt off elsewhere.

Isn’t that a much cooler angle? I thought so, anyway – I’ve done hundreds of images of the species, but I’m always up for something dynamic.

Anyway, that got a few images out of the folder, though I ended up adding seven to the post from the initial plans. I still have more subjects to tackle though.

Podcast: Guest speakers

April 26, 2025 Al Denelsbeck

It’s been a while since the last podcast, but you knew I’d return, and this time, it’s with some guest speakers. This was recorded less than an hour ago, and not quite in Walkabout Studios:

Walkabout podcast – Guest speakers

Okay, not much of a podcast, I admit it, but I had to pass that clip along because I’ve never gotten one clearer than that. Those are barred owls of course (Strix varia,) a mated pair that’s been hanging around and is heard frequently in the surrounding area – these are the ‘monkey calls’ that mated pairs use to communicate, though what they’re communicating, I couldn’t tell you since this is a family blog*. Now, with hearing them dozens of times since we moved here, at varying distances and even during the day, not once have we even gotten a glimpse of one. The previous residents mentioned watching them through the kitchen windows, which only rubs it in. In fact, I have so few photos of barred owls, even though they’re easily the most common owl in both of the Walkabout Estates locations, that it’s a little disturbing – the best (and not exactly good) ones can be found here. But I’ll keep working on it.

* Oh fuck no.

Estate Find XVII

April 25, 2025April 24, 2025 Al Denelsbeck

Okay, yes, we had one of these last year, but that was before the Estate Finds were active, plus I haven’t found anything too compelling this week. And in fact, I had missed this juvenile eastern kingsnake (Lampropeltis getula) entirely as I marched past, but The Girlfriend spotted it and directed me to where it had disappeared under the leaf litter; her snake identification skills are not developed at all, since she’s not at all fond of them, but her description of it being “black and white” was enough to know that it was harmless. Since we were busy doing yard work (mostly eliminating examples of last week’s Estate Find,) I simply popped this one into a small terrarium until I had a chance to dedicate some time to it, which unfortunately fell after darkness had.

But I was able to pursue several different perspectives in doing so, including some fartsy ones, and showing off the belly coloration and scale. The species can easily get much larger than this, as much as two meters, while this one is only a little larger than the first found on the property. It was docile and very cooperative as well.

Since it now appears that we’re past the temperature dropping below 10°c at night, we finally emptied out the greenhouse, and so I used a couple of those plants as stages for the pics – in this case it’s one of the lemon trees. The snake took to them very well, nosing curiously among the leaves and branches and climbing just a little higher, rather than attempting to bolt for cover. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve had a snake this easy to photograph – I just wish I’d tackled it during the day. And no, this wasn’t lethargy from the night, either; this species, among many, hunts at night and it was more than warm enough.

This shows one of the reasons why I regretted waiting, since it loses definition against the darkness, and you can barely make out that the tongue is extended. I often have this as a goal when photographing snakes, because it looks cool and is almost expected, but most times the snake only extends its tongue infrequently and very briefly, making the timing quite tricky. But you’ll notice that four of the five featured images show this, including the last one.

Yes, I purposefully positioned myself so that the tongue would be backed by that one blossom of the ‘Pink Panther’ foxglove (Digitalis x ‘Pink Panther’.) Like I said, the snake was quite cooperative, and sampled the air almost constantly (that’s what the tongue is for.) This is full-frame, by the one, one of the few that I found seemed well-enough framed that no cropping was necessary, and the focus was clear on the head. Kingsnakes really are nicely-colored, and it sets off well against the flowers – let me know how many prints you want…

Ha! Take that!

April 24, 2025 Al Denelsbeck

Yet another holiday has approached and nearly passed now, and it wasn’t clear if I was going to be able to celebrate it or not. This is going to take some setting up, so bear with me (he says, to all the nonexistent readers.)

Some time back, I was reaching for something that had fallen on the floor and fell out of my chair, mostly because the floor in Walkabout Studios is tile and the chair skids too easily. I was fine, no broken hips or anything, but I found out a little later on that I’d crashed into the front of the computer (full mini-tower unit in a cubby under the desk,) and had broken my right-angle headphone adapter. Soon afterward, I discovered that I’d also damaged the socket itself, set into the face of the computer, and the right channel (ear) no longer worked. Crud.

I took the faceplate off and examined it, but nothing was visibly wrong, which meant that the damage was within the socket assembly itself. This was soldered onto a circuit board that screwed onto the back of the faceplate. No choice but to replace the socket.

Now, this is a simple and fairly common part, a 3.5mm female stereo jack. Except this one was soldered vertically to the board, which is rarer, and had five connections, also rare – both together are actually hard to find. I eventually located one from Aliexpress, a Chinese company, and let me stop you right there; I know that this is of questionable quality and somewhat risky, but it was a few bucks and the only other place I’d found it from was many times the price with the same apparent lead time, to say nothing of the fact that they were probably just a reseller and obtained their parts from the same damn place – these things aren’t ever made in the US. I’d ordered countless parts and upgrades for the 3D printer, as well as many other electronics, through Aliexpress and it always went fine. I placed the order, knowing it would likely be two weeks or so.

Or, not. Tracking the package found that, a few days after the order, it made it to a ‘sorting center’ in China and then stalled. For 20 days. I figured it was something to do with tariffs, but at least tell me something. However, it finally started moving again, and I was notified that, as of today, it was out for delivery, just shy of a month after placing the order. Sheesh.

But okay – I had another repair to do, to a remote release for the camera, and so I semi-scheduled them together. That repair went quite well, including printing a new stress-relief on the 3D printer out of TPU, a flexible material that I’d been unable to print successfully before. Cool! Finished that, and awaited the mail delivery. By early afternoon I finally had my package in hand.

Only to find that it contained a crushed, empty box inside a sealed delivery envelope. Lovely. You know, all they had to do was inform me that the order was lost or damaged and had been re-shipped, but apparently they were counting on me never bothering to try and get a refund or something (that’s already been applied for.)

But, what to do about the headphones? I’m handy, but there was no reasonable way to use a different jack, such as a side-mounted one, because there was no space and you needed the solid mount to push against when inserting the plug anyway. However, the board also had a microphone jack right alongside it, which I never used because they suck and my kickass microphone is a USB model. So could I simply swap the jacks out?

Easier typed than done. When items are soldered to a circuit board, it’s a quick thing, a mere touch with the hot solder, but de-soldering them takes a lot more time and heat, plus the fact that the hot solder doesn’t just fall away helpfully, but remains in contact (even with a solder vacuum tool) and re-hardens almost immediately. Ideally, you want all of the connections heated simultaneously so the socket can be drawn away while the solder is fluid, but this is next to impossible. Meanwhile, repeated heating transfers into the plastic housing for the socket, and it’s very easy to melt the damn thing enough to wreck it.

Which is what happened to the old headphone socket – it was already damaged, so no loss, but it told me that I’d have to be extra-careful with the one I was removing from the microphone side. So I took my time, cycling around the five pins to give each time to cool, wiggling it out a tiny bit at a time until it was free. Switching over a few millimeters and soldering it back in place took no time at all, and as noted, only a momentary touch of hot solder to the fluxed contacts re-affixed it.

And it works perfectly, so time well spent (and it was damn near an hour,) which means that I have celebrated, rather than ignored, today’s holiday, which is Overcome Absurd Obstacles Day. How about you?

Blameless

April 20, 2025 Al Denelsbeck

Yes, we’re back on the wood ducks again, but let’s be real – they’re the coolest birds and right here on the property; not even god is gonna blame me for posting about them *

Anyway, after doing the nighttime photos of the mother and ducklings on Turtle Island, I kept watching for them, getting some more shots and then, one evening, spotting the mother just after sunset, realizing that she’d come onto the island while it was still light enough to see. That’s all the encouragement that I need.

There’s a significant difference in the perspectives, naturally, because the night stills done with the flash meant that I was approaching with the spotlight of the headlamp trained on her, preventing her from seeing me (unless I turned around and silhouetted myself against the light falling on the yard,) as long as I approached as stealthily as possible. But while it was still twilight, she could see me easily and so I had to work at a much greater distance from up on the back deck, which did admittedly allow a better view through the pond plants. We’re talking a difference of six or seven meters versus thirty-five though.

Since this video, I’ve tried three more times but they haven’t showed, so whether momma’s found a quieter nighttime roost or is simply cycling her spots around to avoid creating a pattern that predators might figure out, I can’t say, though I’ll keep watching. This pond really is a great spot for them, since it’s too shallow to have largemouth bass or snapping turtles, both significant predators of ducklings, and close enough to the house to discourage foxes a little, and simply chock-full of both food sources and great hiding places, especially with those huge leaves now.

While the Canada geese and mallards are reasonably habituated to us, the wood ducks remain quite wary – the most progress we’ve made is that they only scoot over into thicker cover when we show ourselves out back, though incautious moves will still send them flying down to The Bayou for safety. One pair is semi-mellow and occasionally hangs around in sight, like on the evening that I shot the video:

That’s the railing of the back deck peeking in at the bottom there, but I had no doubt that they could see me easily. Meanwhile, I have never seen a male in the vicinity of the mother duck at any time, so presumably they don’t maintain a protective pairing? I don’t now enough about their habits yet to speak authoritatively on this.

We did obtain some duckling starter food and have been distributing it in likely spots, and one set of locations, visible crossover paths between the pond and the creek at the east side of the property, gets picked clean routinely. By what, we’re not sure, though it’s an encouraging sign, especially when other locations on the pond edge have been untouched, so less likely that it’s by sparrows or something. But yeah, this certainly isn’t the last you’ll see of the wood ducks here.

* Should go without saying, really…

1 … 11 12 13 14 15 … 318