Motherhood

Al Denelsbeck

Well, there is a mother and babies involved, but in exactly what way, I cannot determine – no matter which, it’s definitely creepy to our human perspective.

Out the other night by the neighborhood pond with a headlamp, tracking down a calling frog, I found a black shape on the trunk of a tree that, on close inspection, turned out to be a very large spider.

six-spotted fishing spider Dolomedes triton on tree trunk with prey
It wasn’t until careful examination of the abdominal markings that I determined that this was a six-spotted fishing spider (Dolomedes triton,) since I’ve never seen one this dark – usually, they’re olive green to rust brown in color. And this wasn’t the biggest that I’ve seen either, though it was still impressive, probably about 30mm in body length. I didn’t have to look all that close to determine that it was working on a meal; details were lacking due to the advanced nature of the consumption, but it looked to be another fishing spider.

six-spotted fishing spider Dolomedes triton on tree trunk with prey
I did several angles, during which the spider twitched slightly but remained otherwise motionless, and I then pursued other subjects. Returning home and unloading the images revealed a few tiny details that prompted me to go back out and and do some more photos; right now, we’ll refer back to the first image and the details that I saw then, shown now in an inset.

inset of first images showing newborn spiders
To the lower right, at the base of the spider’s cephalothorax, can be seen another tiny spider, undoubtedly a newborn, while to the left, two more can be seen on the trunk (above and below the middle leg.)

Now, I know females of the wolf spider family will carry their newborns on their back, both as protection and to introduce them to captured meals; the mother will open up the exoskeleton of the prey to allow the young access to the juicy bits. I was not aware that fishing spiders did this, certainly never having seen any despite finding lots of fishing spiders, including a nursery of newborns. But I’m not an entomologist, or any kind of collije edumacated, so it’s possible that I was simply unaware of more species doing this. When I went back out, I was hoping to find evidence of the newborns actually feeding on the captured prey, trusting the flash unit to reveal more in the shadows than I could see myself while there. Nothing was forthcoming, but I did get some slightly better pics of the little one on her back.

six-spotted fishing spider Dolomedes triton with newborn spider on base of cephalothorax
The bebby also seemed aware of me as I leaned in close, and moved away from a direct line of sight. But now, as I provide another photo, I also provide a thought that occurred to me as I was looking at them.

six-spotted fishing spider Dolomedes triton with newborn on base of cephalothorax
It remains possible that the fishing spiders do not carry their young around nor lead them to meals, and that I misidentified the prey. You see, that’s an awful swollen abdomen for a mother fishing spider, more like one that’s about to lay eggs, so it doesn’t see to fit with a proud mother. The only details that I can see for sure on the prey are the legs, and wolf spider legs can look similar. So it’s possible that what we’re seeing here are the newborns that had been on a wolf spider’s back, until it fell prey to the fishing spider. Most dispersed, a few were hiding out on the trunk, and this little bebby got confused. I’ll let you think about that one.

Quick pic from not today

Al Denelsbeck

flash photo in late twilight of green heron Butorides virescens showing reflections from spiders' eyes
This one I came across again while sorting, and decided that I needed to feature it in a brief post. Back at the end of June, I was still (mostly unsuccessfully) stalking the green heron (Butorides virescens) brood around the neighborhood pond, and this one paused on the shoreline to do a little evening fishing. It was late twilight, thus very poor light, and I popped the on-camera flash just to see if I could capture anything, but the distance was too great for the cute little capacitors that are used for such things, and I have the Custom Functions set to push the shutter speed to 1/200 second with a flash*, which made things look a lot darker than they actually were. Nevertheless, I got an oblique reflection from the heron’s eye.

And something else. A lot of something elses. Revealed by the very narrow reflection angle between the flash head and the lens, I captured the eyes of numerous spiders in the immediate vicinity, which reflect, if anything, even better than birds’ eyes despite being a tiny fraction of the size. Yes, there are easily that many spiders around, especially this time of year at the pond’s edge; most of them are probably very young fishing spiders. We’ll have a better look a little later on.

* Canon’s E-TTL flash system will automatically try to balance the flash with an ambient exposure, to provide a more natural-looking image, but this means in low light you can easily have a motion-blurred frame from a very slow shutter speed, with a similarly exposed flash image overlaid, which is of no use to me at least, so I override that setting to use the flash as primary illumination. Which occasionally works as seen here.

Quick pick from today

Al Denelsbeck

snowberry clearwing Hemaris diffinis hovering at purpletop vervain Verbena bonariensis
Just a quick one, as I gather a little time to work on more detailed posts; I have a few coming up. On an outing today, we did one last pass through a small tended flower garden within Gold Park, and Mr Bugg spotted this snowberry clearwing (Hemaris diffinis.) I tracked it for a bit, knowing any sharp photos would be from an even mix of timing and luck, but selected this one to upload because of the blue sheen of the wing’s reflections.

After some poking around, I determined that the flowers are likely purpletop vervain (Verbena bonariensis,) but feel free to pop my bubble, crush my ego, and otherwise make me feel small. I’ll probably just ignore you anyway…

On this date 32

Al Denelsbeck

young white-tailed deer buck Odocoileus virginianus looking wary
I remarked a few weeks back that that particular day in my shooting history was pretty lightly populated, and this is the opposite; I shot a lot on August 5th over the years. This is among the first in the folders, a white-tailed deer (Odocoileus virginianus) buck, just starting to grow its annual antlers, looking at me warily as I leaned on the railing of my second-floor deck. Back then (this being 2007,) I lived bordering a large wooded section and was delighted to have visitors like this. Funny, we’re much more urban now, and we tend to see a lot more. It’s not like deer really thrive on the things that come with population, unlike raccoons and opossums, but they’re certainly enjoying the potted plants that we’ve kindly provided for them in our front yard.

[We have not provided anything for the deer at all, and are trying to convince said deer to leave the plants the hell alone, with mixed results.]

On to 2010.

juvenile Copes grey treefrog Hyla chrysoscelis perched on photographer's thumb
Same place, not long before I moved in with The Girlfriend, and I was also delighted to have achieved a resident Copes grey treefrog (Hyla chrysoscelis.) By resident, I mean, “within a flower pot,” which led to this charming pic. Again, reflections on changes, since I can usually find one roughly every other evening around here now, though as I said before, I was/am also happy that the greens are outnumbering the greys. And as I type this (early Tuesday morning, like a little after midnight,) Hurricane Isaias is rolling in, the sweltering temperatures have dropped a bit, the rain is near-constant, and the frogs are happier than shit. I should be doing video, but I have to be up early, um, later on today.

Chinese early in molting processIn 2015, I was out on this date doing a very long sequence of molting Chinese mantises (Tenodera sinensis) – as well as a cicada – but technically the series started the day before. I do recall that the night was very hot and humid, even this late/early (boy, the midnight date change makes my blog semantics annoying,) and I was sweating profusely despite sitting mostly unmoving on the ground alongside the various plants. But you really need to go to that link, because this is one of the best series that I’ve shot, and the detail is Too Cool.

I remarked therein that I regretted not capturing the very beginning of the process, for any of the subjects that presented themselves that night, and it took another three years to finally achieve that goal. The next goal – along these lines anyway – is to do a time-lapse animation of the process; video is pointless because it takes something like an hour for the molting to take place.

Later that day, by the way, came the bird photos found here – like I said, a productive day. But a year later in 2016, I was chasing rainbows. Well, no, I was actually standing still and letting the rainbows come to me, which sounds a lot less futile.

supernumerary rainbow over saturated
This is a supernumerary rainbow, rare but not hugely so – they’re just more subtle than this. It’s clearly altered, but only to increase saturation and contrast to make the perfectly natural effects more visible. I go into more detail in the original post.

Now, we have a twofer for 2016 and 2017, but as curiosities, because in the spreadsheet that I created to do these posts, I have the images listed by date, followed by the folders they reside within, and 2016 and 2017 were sequential in the Leaves/Plants/Trees folder, so these two images were ‘adjacent.’

rain on rose bush and balloon flower along decorative sweet potato leaves
So on the left, we have 2016’s photo of the rose bush showing the same rain that produced the rainbow above, while on the right, 2017’s shot of a balloon flower and decorative sweet potato vine in a planter alongside the front porch a year later, done mostly for the colors.

And finally, we come full-circle back to the Mammals folder for the second 2017 image, a shot that I thought I’d posted back then, but apparently not.

eastern cottontail Sylvilagus floridanus with growth on nose
The eastern cottontails (Sylvilagus floridanus) visit the yard sporadically each summer, often as adorable juveniles, and provide some viewing entertainment in the evenings right around sundown. This particular one was sporting some growth on its nose, but don’t ask me what, because I’ve never seen anything quite like it – I can’t tell you if it’s simply scar tissue from some odd injury, or a genetic anomaly, or a malignant tumor. If they visited more often, I might have been able to at least see how this one seemed to be getting on, but I recall that we only saw it once after that. Sounds ominous, but the whole area is prime real estate to the rabbits and they freely roam around the neighborhood, so this one might simply have frequented other yards.

But yeah, August 5th has historically proven to be a good day for shooting; as I said, I’m typing this on the 4th, so I don’t know yet if this year will continue the trend. We’ll just have to see what else comes up in the next posts.

[This is how I get lots more page hits, as readers excitedly keep checking back. Drives me right to the top of search engines and ratings, let me tell you.]

Two quick greens

Al Denelsbeck

It’s 14 minutes to tomorrow, and I haven’t posted anything for a few days, so a couple of quick ones to sneak in under the wire. Oldest first.

green heron Butorides virescens being shy at dusk
On the same say that we were stalking the juvenile yellow-crowned night heron, I spotted a green heron (the ostensible target of the evening, before I found the other,) and snagged only a quick peek through the branches. But I got the eye at least.

And the other night, while I was talking to a friend on the phone, I found this green treefrog (Hyla cinerea) and did a quick portrait in a dynamic pose, with the streetlight creating a faint halo. This was intentional, and to that end I shot wide open at f4, but the focus was a wee bit off. I am ashamed, but it’s barely noticeable at blog resolution, so if I stick to only showing things off here, I’m good.

green treefrog Hyla cinerea with halo
But hey, deadline met.

Now July me down to sleep

Al Denelsbeck

Wow, even I don’t like that one!

But you’re not here for the wordplay, you’re here for the month-end abstract. So let’s see, what do we have for the contestants?

Coopers hawk Accipiter cooperii not holding still for the camera
While chasing the brood of Cooper’s hawks (Accipiter cooperii) that occupied Walkabout Estates, I snagged this motion-blurred example – image stabilizing lenses only work for the camera’s motion, not the subject’s. Had it not been for that head, it would have been a lot more difficult to determine what this even was.

I must note, by the way, that after making that post, I heard the young calling in the distance for a day or two, then nothing at all; they’ve left the area now, off on their own, so I’m glad I got what I did. This is contrasted against the red-shouldered hawks a few years back, who left the nest and vanished entirely – different species, different fledging habits.

And another, more abstracty.

fine orb web catching morning light edge on
This one does much better at higher resolution, and may become a large print that makes people go in close, because the web strands stay sharp – at least, within the focus range in the center. There are just enough details to make it work, for me anyway: the sparkle of the light off the strands, the parachute-like billow in the middle, the clarity of the web structure at lower left, and the curves of the highlights at lower center. It also helped that I was shooting with a wide open aperture, so the background got rendered in soft round blobs instead of aperture-shapes like pentagons or septagons. Little things, little things…

On this date 31

Al Denelsbeck

juvenile eastern fence lizard Sceloporus undulatus on tree
This week, we start off back in 2010, with a juvenile eastern fence lizard (Sceloporus undulatus,) quite small yet still a couple of times larger than the subject from a few days ago. It looks like it was taken at night, but fence lizards aren’t really active at night; this was taken at 3:45 PM, and is instead the effect of a small aperture and relying on the flash as the main light source. The ambient light wasn’t enough to expose into the shadows at those settings, so we have this high-contrast rendering, obviously taken before I had worked out a decent softbox arrangement. Things changed later on.

jagged ambush bug genus Phymata nymph on dog fennel Eupatorium capillifolium
Another taken in the afternoon, and if anything, the lens used would have let in even less light, but by this point (2013) I had the first of my successful softboxes. This is a jagged ambush bug (genus Phymata,) hanging out on one of the dog fennel plants, which had their own history. Earlier in the year, or perhaps the previous, I had planted seeds for several species of wildflower, specifically to encourage photo subjects, and this was one of the plants that came up; by the time that I realized it was a weed, it was getting quite tall and already proving popular with numerous species of arthropods, so it remained, for multiple years, and gave me plenty of photo opportunities. This ambush bug was just one of them, so small that it looked like a stray flower petal unless one looked very close, but their appearance is cool enough that a close look is warranted.

By the way, I’ve had dog fennel come up in the yard here for a couple of years now, and it hasn’t proven anywhere near as inviting to the insects this time, not sure why.

Imperial moth Eacles imperialis close up of head
This one is slightly disturbing, not because of its appearance of course, but in that I recalled this as having been taken last year, maybe the year before, but it was actually taken five years ago – I’m going to consider this a fluke and not an indication that my memory is going to hell. I include it here because, late yesterday as I type this, I heard a clattering at the office window and opening the blinds to find another one of these, which is an imperial moth (Eacles imperialis,) and they’re massive, nearly covering your entire hand. I’m fairly certain that it wasn’t the same one though, because they don’t even have mouths or probosci or any way to eat as adults – all they do is breed at this stage, and that lasts only a few days.

And another from the same year, because I have to.

unidentified grasshopper nymph in extreme closeup.
I’m not going to try to identify this grasshopper, which might even be a katydid species instead, because I didn’t get enough full anatomy shots and it’s likely an earlier instar anyway. We just needed this here for the detail, especially the eye facets, but the translucent quality of the chitin was a factor too. And one more thing, which is the rectangular reflection of the light source in the eye. I had thought I was further ahead in the folders, but saw this detail and realized it looked like the flash and softbox that had failed several years ago, and thus rechecked the dates; that’s what caught me about the moth above, because they were taken on the same date. It’s slightly amusing that I can tell what ‘era’ a photo is from by the evidence of the equipment used.

A break

Al Denelsbeck

I was busy writing the ‘On this date’ post for this week, early this morning, when an app on my phone alerted me to lightning activity in the area. It’s been doing this for the past couple of weeks, due to the weather conditions, and it’s either been too far away to be worth pursuing, or late afternoon when lightning photography is not worth attempting. The one exception had been just after sunset when there was an active cell south of Jordan Lake, which might put in plain view with those nice low horizons along the lake, so I went down there. I was setting up the tripod and looking out over the water when I saw a nice simultaneous triple strike, right where I would be aiming the camera in, oh, about another thirty seconds. And they were the only visible bolts for the whole session.

But the strikes outlined in this particular storm looked promising, so I grabbed the camera and tripod and scooted over to the nearby pond, which provides a moderately decent horizon and foreground interest. And yes, there was definitely lightning activity to be seen, but mostly distant and hidden by clouds. Most frames held nothing, but the few that did featured a patch of purple clouds that were almost overwhelmed by the ambient light off of the low clouds, captured during the time exposures.

barest eviodence of distant lightning strike
There was no particular cell that seemed the most active, and rapidly changing conditions, with a smattering of rain (I had the rain cover on the camera so I was fine, and didn’t need one for myself.) I waited, because going in too soon is always a bad idea. So is going in too late, for that matter, but that can be my epitath.

And gradually, it looked like maybe things were developing a bit better, though still not all that great.

big lightning strike illuminating clouds while invisible
The sky would light up, sometimes brilliantly, but I wouldn’t see any but the barest hint of an actual lightning bolt – they were still too distant, and did not seem to be moving into range. Which was not typical, because I’m aiming mostly west here and that’s into the prevailing winds and storm travel.

But, patience.

brilliant high lightning strike over pond
Ka-powser!

While still pretty distant (the thunder took ten seconds or so to arrive,) this was a lot closer than all the rest, stretching way up into the sky, with all those branches and even that long arm disappearing and reappearing off to the left. And seriously, it was the only one so visible. Looking at it now, I regret that I wasn’t aiming vertically to capture more of it, but there was no indication that it would be so great.

I hung around for another 20 minutes, even capturing one that bleached the sky pure white in places, but never got any kind of distinct bolt again. Still, this one had occurred when I was thinking it might not be panning out at all, so I’m glad I was patient. I hadn’t captured anything in a while, and I was due.

Now I’m happy

Al Denelsbeck

So, you surely remember when I first noticed a Carolina anole (Anolis carolinensis) in the yard, and I was pleased because I was hoping to get some established and this was the first sign? And then, a month later I saw it again, proof at least that it was still hanging around? Well, I was wandering around the yard a few hours ago while on the phone, shining a flashlight around casually, and got greeted with this:

very young Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis perched on Japanese maple
That’s a very young one, obviously hatched nearby, because its overall length (with its long whip tail) is less than 60mm, meaning the body itself is maybe a hair over 20, and the head only 5mm wide – that’s less than a pencil. It could sit comfortably on your little finger, is what I’m saying, though here it’s perched on the Japanese maple, right up top where I could spot it easily.

Let’s go in a little closer.

very young Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis on Japanese maple
I’m doing a slight disservice with these photos, since being this close isn’t giving a good impression of how cute and tiny it is, but I had no way to provide useful scale without spooking it, and of course I’m still going in for the portrait shots.

This is more success than I was expecting – having a new brood, I mean, since I wasn’t sure if we even had more than the one adult. And actually, it probably shouldn’t be called a ‘brood,’ since they lay only one egg at a time, as I just discovered while researching details for this post. Certainly an auspicious start, but also slightly concerning, since a little over a meter away, one of the resident Chinese mantises had just molted into adult form, massing easily many times the size of this lizard, and quite capable of taking it as a meal. I’d feel better about there being more than one.

By the way, I tried to be welcoming, and provide a little mist for drinking water – the mantids adore this – but the anole got a little panicky at the touch of the water droplets so I stopped. It’s in an area packed with potted plants receiving routine waterings, with lots of prey insects, so it’s got the basics covered; it just has to avoid predators. We’ll have to see what happens.

Sometimes it works

Al Denelsbeck

Back at the beginning of the month, I lucked out and got some frames of a rare subject around here, but I was still in the throes of code mangling and didn’t want to do a post then. Looking at them later, I felt they didn’t stand too well alone, and wanted to get something to accompany them. Yesterday evening before dinner, I did a quick pass around the neighborhood pond and, to my utter astonishment (okay, maybe it was only mild delight,) actually got what I was after. As the title says, sometimes it works. But as my experience says, don’t get used to that.

juvenile yellow-crowned night heron Nyctanassa violacea stalking alongside pond
The Girlfriend and I were out in the evening just before sunset, back on the 2nd, and I was stalking the secretive green heron brood that I knew was in the immediate area, when this guy appeared between the gravel road and the pond margin, not terribly concerned with people being nearby. This is a juvenile yellow-crowned night heron (Nyctanassa violacea,) about adult size but bearing none of the coloration of an adult, save for the eyes.

Adult size, by the way, is roughly the same as a crow in body length and girth, with of course a longer neck – perhaps slightly larger than a green heron, but not appreciably. I usually find them more towards the coast, though I think they run the entire state of Florida. The Girlfriend and I spotted another juvie last year, poking around the edge of the pond at night, but I couldn’t determine for sure if it was a yellow-crowned or a black-crowned; as juveniles, they’re almost identical.

juvenile yellow-crowned night heron Nyctanassa violacea in profile
This one was definitely hanging around the green herons, which seemed a little odd to me, but it wasn’t half as spooky as those tend to be, so when my cautious approach nevertheless sent the green herons across the lake, my subject here glanced casually at me and went back to its hunting. The sun had set, the light was dropping, and I knew I wasn’t going to get a whole lot more opportunities – if past experience was any indication, the pond was only a brief stopover before it moved on to somewhere else. So while it was posed so nicely in a break in the foliage, I shot a little video. None of that is worth viewing, since handheld at 600mm is enough to make even me seasick, but I got very lucky in that it called during one clip, and I was able to extract the audio, to which I applied a little noise reduction to cull the sound of the main road a few hundred meters away.

Call of juvenile yellow-crowned night heron (Nyctanassa violacea)

juvenile yellow-crowned night heron Nyctanassa violacea looking at photographer
As disapproving as it looks here, the night heron really wasn’t too concerned with our presence, though we remained very low key. It vented a single call every few minutes, which was eventually answered in the distance – as you might imagine, they carry better than most bird calls – and mom (I suppose) appeared wheeling overhead, whereupon the young’un took flight and joined her, and they flew off over the trees. Haven’t seen a sign of either since, nor heard any calls.

A few days later (while checking, donchaknow,) there was a great egret (Ardea alba) that came in and perched high in one of the trees off the pond. This happens occasionally, and again, always temporarily, but I suspect part of that is because there is usually a great blue that stakes its territory on the pond, which is lacking this year. I was working at a much greater distance than with the night heron, so this is what we have.

great egret Ardea alba perched in tree
And again, every time I’ve been out since has shown no sign of it. I get the feeling this pond is a like a bus stop for wading birds…

But what I’ve been after for a while are the green herons (Butorides virescens) – off and on, admittedly, when time permits, so it’s not like I’ve been out for hours each day trying. Two years running now, we’ve had a brood that, if I’m reading the signs correctly, were hatched in a thicket of trees on the pond’s edge within easy reach, but they’re so thick, I can know that two herons are perched therein and never spot them. The edge is straight through there for a ways, so the only open view I might have is from on the water, something I’m not attempting with the photo equipment. So I watch carefully, hoping to see them hunting along the water’s edge, though usually they see me before I see them and fly off.

Not quite with last night’s attempt, though.

green heron Butorides virescens stalking on mudbar
I was only out for a chance encounter, intending to spend no more than a half-hour or so, and came across this one down at the quiet, shaded end of the pond; when I first spotted it, it was stretched straight and tall, watching me, trying to emulate a reed. I slipped back behind a tree and affixed the long lens, then slowly crept out and had a seat on the ground for stability, and got a small selection of photos, getting a little lucky with the sun peeking through the branches.

green heron Butorides virescens and reflection
The one thing I’ve noticed about green herons is that, if they’re actively hunting, they tune out the approach of humans a whole lot more than normally, and slow quiet stalking can produce a closer vantage. This one seemed torn between my presence and the minnow activity in the shallows, and hung around a bit, though staring frequently at me in suspicion; I wasn’t moving, but the shutter and motor drive was doing its thing.

green heron Butorides virescens stalking on mudflat
The heron did a little stalking, not even getting close enough to strike, then abruptly seemed to feel that I was too much of a danger and flew off. I’m cool; for a quick, casual attempt, I got enough decent frames. I went home, cooked dinner, and then got into game night online, so overall, I count yesterday as well spent – I did better yesterday with a half-ass outing, than today with a prolonged one (previous post.) Whatever works.

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