Two little unknowns

Al DenelsbeckLeave a comment

Or at least, they were for a short while.

Back when the internet was out, I found two new subjects for photos and posts – except, i didn’t recognize either of them, and couldn’t post anyway. Now, it’s true that I have the Audubon Guides to both birds and reptiles & amphibians, but I’ve found them to be so inadequate that I haven’t used either in years, mostly from the lack of illustrations; both classes of animal often have numerous color variations, and Audubon has a wicked tendency to have one color photograph of any species. So I didn’t even bother trying, and simply waited until I had access again to online guides.

eastern narrow-mouthed toad Gastrophryne carolinensis in studio setting
Okay, this one wasn’t completely unknown, and I’ve actually photographed it before, but merely once, and thus just one color variation; this is an eastern narrow-mouthed toad (Gastrophryne carolinensis,) chilling cooperatively in my studio setting. Actually, not all that cooperatively, because the moment I set it down into the nice natural-looking leaf litter, it disappeared beneath and had to be fished out. Multiple times.

eastern narrow-mouthed toad Gastrophryne carolinensis in studio setting
I made it a point to do several perspectives and get all of the details that I could, just in case it was something new to me, plus the fact that I intended to release it before I had access to identifying guides, so I didn’t want to miss any crucial details. This is the species whose call sounds a lot like a goat, and with all of the frog and toad calls we’ve heard since moving here, this one has been conspicuously absent, but if memory serves, they start calling later in the spring or early summer anyway.

underside and underlegs of eastern narrow-mouthed toad Gastrophryne carolinensis held in author's hand
Too many amphibian species have identifying markings on either the belly or especially the underside of the legs, so I made sure to get this. Amphibians really don’t like being upside down, and it was a struggle to hold it in an adequate position without either injuring it or obscuring what I was after, but I snagged a decent frame without mishap. And it escaped across my desk only once.

eastern narrow-mouthed toad Gastrophryne carolinensis in author's hand for scale
A scale shot of course – this is typical size for the species. By the way, I’ve seen the common name as both, ‘eastern narrow-mouthed toad,’ and, ‘eastern narrowmouth toad,’ so use what you like – I personally use, ‘Guido.’

And now the other.

red-bellied snake Storeria occipitomaculata in studio setting
Another studio shot, this specimen was quite small but active, and it was a struggle to keep it within the shallow pan I was using for convincing ‘ground.’ This is a red-bellied snake (Storeria occipitomaculata,) also ‘redbelly snake,’ so again, whatever you like – it’s ‘Portnoy’ for our purposes here. The namesake (theirs, not mine) isn’t visible unless you pick it up, or it leaps at you from a low-hanging tree, which actually never ever happens, plus you’d only give a shit if you were extremely ophidiophobic, because it’s a tiny snake.

red-bellied snake Storeria occipitomaculata held vertically in author's hand to show scale and namesake coloration
Actually, I find the back markings pretty cool too, and that rusty head, but of course the belly gets the attention. This one seemed vaguely familiar to me, but only through indistinct memories of photos, because I’m pretty sure I’ve never found one before, despite the fact that they supposedly can be found all through North Carolina.

red-bellied snake Storeria occipitomaculata held in author's hand
They have a nice little ‘collar,’ and it bears a faint resemblance to the markings of the brown snake, which is a related species. They also have a curious habit that I realized, once I had access to a guide but not the snake anymore, that I did just barely capture in the next two frames.

closeup of red-bellied snake Storeria occipitomaculata head faintly showing habit of flattening upper 'lip' or jaw
When agitated and trying to appear threatening, this species can spread its upper jaw a little wider, giving it pronounced ‘lips’ and making the head broader, which I thought I was seeing but had never witnessed before, though many snake species do some variation; cobras, as everyone knows, can flare the skin behind the head and down the neck, while hognose snakes can flatten their entire forebody, and even watersnakes can spread their heads wider, as you’ll see in an upcoming post.

closeup of red-bellied snake Storeria occipitomaculata in author's hand
I can’t recall if this bluffing extended so far as to strike at me anytime I was handling it, but seriously, have at it, little dude – you’d be lucky to get a decent purchase on even my little finger. Their diet is mostly slugs, and this helps explain why I found it under the lid of the compost bin which we’d left setting on the ground, and to where I returned it.

Nine more pics out of the backlog, but still catching up.

They do own the property, after all

Al DenelsbeckLeave a comment

Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis clinging to post lamp
While trying to catch up with the backlog, naturally enough I went out yesterday and added quite a few photos to the queue, under a couple of different topics – one step forward, two back and all that. This post may help alleviate it a bit though, because it had more photos (and some brief video) dedicated to it than any other topic until yesterday, and so we return to the Carolina anoles (Anolis carolinensis,) since they actually own the property and are simply allowing us to live here, as long as we pay the mortgage and taxes and so on.

The lamp post out front (which has just been replaced, an act that may well get us evicted) has been a huge favorite of the species, almost as popular as the south side of the screened porch; once the temperatures topped 10°c and the sun was out, so were they, but a distinct addition occurred about a month ago.

male Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis perched next to female American five-lined akink Plestiodon fasciatus on base of lamp post
That’s an anole on the post, presently brown though that can change in mere seconds, with a female American five-lined skink (Plestiodon fasciatus) on the bricks at the base; the two species inhabit the same regions but have slightly different habits, the skinks being more terrestrial and only occasionally climbing, while the anoles spend little time on the ground itself. There’s a fair amount of crossover, but overall, you’re far more likely to see them like this: the anole vertical, the skink horizontal. Notice that there are a couple of green patches on the anole’s body, evidence only of something blocking the direct sunlight from the skin moments before, failing to trigger the biological system that causes the skin to turn into a more heat-absorbing brown. The skinks, however, only change color with maturity, though it’s different colors for the males and females.

Now we start to see the difference:

Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis with green patches fading while perched above American five-lined skink Plestiodon fasciatus
Notice how, only a minute later, one of the green patches has changed over to brown with the exposure to direct sunlight, though the other is lagging behind a little. It had changed soon afterward, though.

male Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis displaying dewlap near basking female American five-lined skink Plestiodon fasciatus
Now we have confirmed that the anole is male, since he is displaying his dewlap, that big pink thing under his chin. This serves two purposes: as a territorial display and as a mating display. While the skink is right there (and female,) it is unlikely that this display, whichever it is, is intended for the skink. They’re already too close together for it to be likely territorial, plus they’ve been this close for some time without it, and the anole isn’t going to try and seduce a skink. What I’m guessing, though I didn’t directly witness it, is that there was a female anole someplace nearby, since the post environs has numerous places where the anoles can be sitting without easily being observed.

We can see the subtle variation in the different displays in a couple of clips:

One thing not mentioned in there is that during contentious territorial disputes, actual fights between males, they display brighter colors and very distinct dark patches on the cheeks, like that seen here.

The skink made several appearances, but was always quite shy and would disappear at most close approaches, so it took me a little while to get a more direct portrait of her.

female American five-lined skink Plestiodon fasciatus basking on bricks at base of lamp post
She’s a hefty specimen, big enough that I almost suspected she was a broad-headed skink instead, but I think we’re outside of their range here. The males will have more reddish heads, while the juveniles will generally sport higher contrast in their markings and an electric blue tail. Also, skinks are shiny and quite reflective, while anoles are not in the slightest. Since these photos, I’ve only gotten occasional glimpses of this one individual, yet a few others can be found around the property from time to time – just, not one-tenth as frequently as the anoles.

The anoles are also fond of sleeping in odd perches well above ground, at least when it’s warm enough, and this is enthusiastically evident when I venture out on the other side of the main pond, bordering The Bayou. Here, by the light of the headlamp, I can often see three or four from one spot.

small Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis sleeping while clinging to a leaf vertically
I’m always impressed by their ability to sleep confidently while clinging vertically, and this one is as vertical as it appears. I’m guessing that either they have a mechanism, like bird feet, that can keep certain muscles tensed even while asleep, or that their negligible weight can hang easily from single toenails dug into the leaves or bark. I mean, look at this: the toes aren’t even wrapped around anything. And no, it has nothing to do with moisture, because unlike the tree frogs, anoles are perfectly dry and in fact take cover at the first hint of rain, or even when I play the misting bottle over them, regardless of how hot and dry it’s been.

I kind of liked the perspective of this one:

Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis sleeping vertically on back side of water reed
Can’t tell what the front feet are doing, but the backs hardly seem to be doing anything, so I doubt they’re supporting any weight. No matter what they’re perched on or what the conditions of the day were, anoles always seem to go as pale green as possible at night, though whether this serves a distinct purpose or is simply their ‘base’ relaxed coloration, I can’t say. I do know that they often collect dew overnight in the right conditions, presumably drinking it come morning, so perhaps this assists that somehow.

And then there’s this one:

small Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis sleeping suspended vertically, head down, from a leaf
The hind toes, at least, look like they might be hooked, but damn, I’d have a wicked headache in no time if I tried to sleep like that. When approaching with the headlamp, I will often see the anoles crack open their eyes, though honestly, I think it has more to do with how much noise I make than the light itself – I have plenty of pics where they never seem to notice the light, or even the bight bursts of the camera strobe.

This one noticed, but that was partially because I had to shift position for this perspective and couldn’t do so silently:

head-on view of Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis trying to sleep on flower cluster
This one was comfortably horizontal, but on a plant that was surrounded by undergrowth and foliage, so not only was I unable to move quietly, I couldn’t even approach without something that I was trying to brush past disturbing the very plant that the anole was snoozing upon, causing it to sway slightly. Nonetheless, this was the extent of the reaction that I got from the anole, but we can perhaps credit the headlamp with that, since all they can likely see is the glare of the light and not me or the camera in any distinct manner. I waited patiently, and after less than a minute, the anole was dozing off again.

head-on view of Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis falling back asleep on flower cluster
Now, if I touched one of them, they’d become much more alert and may scamper off, though whether they can actually see where they’re going at night is unknown to me; I can’t, at least without a light, so I can’t observe them to know how well they can. I’m inclined to say that their night vision is close to nonexistent, since plenty of tasty insects are active at night so it would be a prime feeding opportunity for them – provided the nights are warm enough, anyway, and that may only be a narrow range of time for them.

That’s a few pics down, and some of the older ones – we’re making progress, as long as I can maintain zero population growth for a little while at least. Plugging away…

With a bonus

Al DenelsbeckLeave a comment

While getting all of the photos for the latest Estate Find, a set of bonuses simply walked right in, literally. I was sitting on the steps down from the deck with the camera and long lens in hand, just snagging pics of opportunity of the dusky Canada geese, when I spotted activity from the edge of the pond.

male wood duck Aix sponsa venturing from pond into backyard, with head of Canada goose visible in foreground
I don’t have to tell you this is a wood duck (Aix sponsa,) do I? There’s a bold pair that’s semi-tolerant of our presence, provided that we’re up on the deck and not moving much or making noise, but there’s a distinct limit to this, and they’ve never ventured any farther than just inside the pond edge, nor have they even approached if we’ve been down off the deck in the yard – that’s always enough to send them to the back of the pond, if not flying off down to The Bayou. But here they came, and I kept the camera raised to my eye with the barest of movement and simply fired off frames.

male and female wood duck Aix sponsa venturing down into backyard
Now, the dusky geese with their geeseling were half the distance to us and foraging unconcernedly, and we thought that perhaps the wood ducks were curious about the young-uns. Whatever – I was watching in fascination.

female and male wood duck Aix sponsa in portrait pose
I call this one, “Estate Gothic” – it will be a print soon. Look at the duckweed still on their breasts.

The idea that they were curious about the geeseling seemed to be disproved when they went past where the geese were, closer still to me on the steps, happily snagging the corn that is usually present (because we’re conscientious/obsessive about keeping everyone fed.)

mae and female wood duck Aix sponsa finally realizing they were getting close to photographer
At this point, I believe the male finally realized that they were drawing close to a human, or that that big lump on the steps was alive; they were now about eight meters or less off, and this is only slightly cropped from full-frame – she’s laying down. I’m honestly not sure what was going through their heads, because they’ve demonstrated how sharp-eyed and sharp-eared they are, and their awareness of how the landscape has changed (for instance, by the presence of people, no matter how still we are.) Did they honestly remain unaware of my presence, or did they get lulled into a sense of security by the geese (which has never been the case before – wood ducks make their own decisions.) Or were they just pushing their tolerance of us because we’ve not only been putting the food down, we’ve been otherwise unassuming and certainly non-threatening? I have to note that the wood ducks rarely even see us throwing the corn out because they typically fly off before they could witness it – these are the only pair that I feel comfortable saying have actually seen it, and even then the motions were usually enough to send them off.

male wood duck Aix sponsa now quite alert to the presence of a human
Here, the male is now clearly aware and not comfortable with it, talking quietly to the female in their peeping, wheezy tones; only a few moments after this, they took flight back down to The Bayou. Still, this was encouraging that perhaps this pair will become tolerant enough that they’ll hang around in our presence – maybe not close approaches, but at least not fleeing for safety. And this is by far the closest that I’ve been in daylight when they could see me clearly – I’ve gotten closer at night when they were blinded by the headlamp and so unsure just were I was, we can’t really count that.

Estate Find XIX

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This one was exactly a week ago, but I already had the Estate Find posted, plus in the late morning we lost internet. However, we’re going to build to this one a little.

I’ve mentioned before about the subspecies of Canada goose that’s been hanging around, a dusky Canada goose (Branta canadensis occidentalis.) We’re considering him likely a male due to behavior, though he’s recently been alone, and from time to time he has minor altercations with another pair that visits the yard, a male Atlantic Canada (Branta canadensis, the most common subspecies) and his dusky wife, which happens on occasion; a previous Estate Find showed some Canadas crossbred with what appeared to be domestic Roman geese, so they’re up for anything it seems. There’s a curious dynamic in their interactions, though:

Then a week ago, The Girlfriend and I looked out back around noon and found this:

mother dusky Canada goose Branta canadensis occidentalis with four young goslings
Earlier, we’d had a pair of dusky Canadas visiting, then it went down to just one hanging around quite a bit, as seen in the video, but now suddenly there was a pair again with their geeseling (yes, that’s the proper plural term from now on.) We’re surmising that the male was hanging around because it was normally pretty quiet and of course we were throwing down corn routinely, while the female sat on the nest someplace unknown to us – but that means he wasn’t around for protection for a large percentage of the time. Is that typical? Regardless, since this appearance the dusky has not been spending time in the pond.

The geeseling were foraging with mom enthusiastically, and occasionally flapping their little stub wings.

newborn dusky Canada gosling Branta canadensis occidentalis flapping its wings
We were out on the deck and at the edge of the yard observing them, and the parents kept an eye on us but otherwise weren’t concerned, even as we walked around a little. This was not the case when the territorial pair arrived on the scene, though.

pair of dusky Canada geese Branta canadensis occidentalis standing guard over brood with the arrival or territorial pair of Atlantic Canada goose Branta canadensis and dusky mate
With this arrival, the parents became quite wary and the foraging halted, with the geeseling remaining clustered around mom. Now, we’re fine with letting wildlife figure out their own dynamics – except when it comes to the babies. While the dusky pair were likely capable of defending them and, while we watched, the territorial pair did nothing but make a lot of noise, we weren’t going to sit by and watch the young-uns get harassed or savaged – not in our backyard. I started circling around, still with the camera in hand though.

male Atlantic Canada goose Branta canandensis and dusky Canada goose Branta canadensis occidentalis loudly trying to claim territory
You’d think the female, at least, may have learned her lesson, but there she is egging on the male, who was being as obnoxious as usual – at least, until he realized that I was ambling up from the side. His honking got slower and quieter until it was little more than a faint question from the shy kid at the back of the class, and I suggested he get back into the pond. He was hesitant, though the female was already taking the hint. I repeated my suggestion, stepping closer, and he gave me a defiant hiss that he could see failed to impress me, and he sidled into the pond, trying to maintain his dignity. Once they had ceased trying to claim the backyard, I circled back but fired off a few frames of the dusky brood as I was doing so.

mother dusky Canada goose Branta canadensis occidentalis with brood of four
Is that adorable or what? Just the luck of the timing, really, but you don’t have to know that.

pair of dusky Canada geese Branta canadensis occidentalis watching over brood of four goslings
Dad stood by dutifully, but he’d been getting fed daily by both of us and had approached pretty close on numerous occasions, so he appears to have decided we were cool and did nothing more than stand by, and mom was visibly unconcerned. The brood took her cue, with one examining me intently.

mother dusky Canada goose Branta canadensis occidentalis with brood, fronted by bold gosling
I didn’t have the tripod set up and so didn’t attempt more than a single video clip, since these were with the long lens, and video with that and no tripod is nausea-inducing. There wasn’t a lot to see other than some ambling about and pecking at the grass anyway, though occasionally one of the geeseling would attempt to decapitate a flower and fall over. We’re guessing they were no more than a couple days old.

dusky Canada gosling Branta canadensis occidentalis forging in backyard
Unfortunately, this was their only appearance so far, which is a shame, because we distributed gosling [sic] crumble in the yard for their return, and I’m almost certain that the pond is too shallow to have any predators like snapping turtles and largemouth bass, which certainly reduced any of the broods that hatched out at the neighborhood pond by the old place, so it should be quite safe. I can’t vouch for nighttime predators like foxes, raccoons, and coyotes however, but I also know that there are countless areas in The Bayou that should be safe from such, or at least provide adequate warning from the splashing as they attempt to get close. Regardless, it was an entertaining afternoon, and we were pleased that the parents brought them by.

A few more whittled off

Al DenelsbeckLeave a comment

Just clearing out a couple more photos from the backlog where I can. These were from the other night, while I was poking around with the headlamp, as is my wont. I’m quite used to seeing the bright blue ‘stars’ from the lawn that signify spider eyes reflecting the light, but the location of this one drew me in closer, since it was on the wall of the house. The odd appearance of her abdomen convinced me that photos were in order, though.

mother wolf spider genus Lycosidae with brood on her back
That’s a wolf spider, genus Lycosidae but I’m not attempting to get any more specific than that, with her brood of newborns on her abdomen. This is common for the genus, which carries its egg sac around until they hatch out, and then carries the young for a bit, also preparing food for them. Other species hang the egg sac in a web or within a nursery protected by walls of webbing until the young are able to scamper away on their own, typically a few days to maybe two weeks.

This one knew I was nearby, and I touched her leg to try and get her to turn for a more direct profile shot, which prompted her to start moving off. After only a few steps, however, she missed her footing and fell about 20cm to the ground, where the appearance changed a bit.

mother wolf spider Lycosidae after falling with semi-scattered brood
While many remained on her abdomen, a lot of the babies had bounced off and were scattered around in in all directions. While editing this photo, I realized she was missing a leg and wondered if she’d lost it in the fall, but no, it’s missing in the original shots too, and might be what caused her to fall. I have no idea how well spiders compensate for missing limbs – it happens a lot – or whether it even registers on them. Do they still attempt to wind prey with webbing manipulated by legs that aren’t there, failing miserably? I’ll have to observe a bit closer. Meanwhile, I highlighted all of the bebbies I could find in the original image to show how far they’d bounced.

animated gif showing scattered baby wolf spiders Lycosidae
I didn’t do the remaining brood on her back, though I did mark one on her leg, and who knows how many I couldn’t spot in the debris? I know I came back a few minutes later, and she hadn’t moved while the area surrounding her still sparkled with the eyes of the young that had not climbed back aboard.

Meanwhile, there’s been a bird soaring over the property just about every day, usually seen when the camera isn’t in hand, but just once I was able to fire off a few frames as it passed, unfortunately without compensation for the cloudy sky, so almost entirely silhouetted.

possible Mississippi kite Ictinia mississippiensis silhouetted overhead
No calls have ever been heard, and the scale is difficult to judge but I got the impression of a smallish raptor, perhaps about crow-sized. It generally soars without flapping, wheeling in large circles like a vulture, but faster and more adept. I took this frame and tweaked the levels to bring out what details I could:

possible Mississippi kite Ictinia mississippiensis brightened for details
That’s enough to reveal a small marking through the eye, but nothing else evident, and my belief is that, if it were white, it should look brighter than this, so I’m leaning towards it being a uniform grey. With that, the shape, and the small hooked beak, the only thing that I found that appears to match is a Mississippi kite (Ictinia mississippiensis.) The Cornell site doesn’t show them living in this area, though the Sibley guide indicates occasional sightings. I know when I first spotted it, it appeared to have a slightly notched tail, which didn’t match the various photos and outlines that I’d found, but if you watch the second video in this gallery closely (the one in flight against the sky,) you can see that occasionally, the tail closes down and it gets a notched appearance – the Cornell site also remarks upon this. So this is a tentative identification for now, pending better shots and perhaps some audio clues. We’ll see what happens.

This is a good place to say that tomorrow is World Migratory Bird Day, so I already have one goal set for that, and I encourage everyone to pursue their own.

Let’s start with last night

Al DenelsbeckLeave a comment

Because, why go in chronological order? More to the point however, the Eta Aquariids meteor shower is still going on for the next few days, we’re just not at peak. Not that I’m going to convince you to go out with this post, but we all know how good my luck with meteor showers is.

So I was out to do some time exposures in the quest for meteors last night, and the moon was a bit bright initially, but in this phase it was due to be setting as the shower was supposed to peak. I did a few frames before then, because.

waxing gibbous moon on peak of Eta Aquariids shower
That was in the opposite direction of the best sky view on Walkabout Estates, disappearing behind the roof, so I was fine with it, especially since the humidity wasn’t too high and thus the moon wasn’t lighting up the surrounding sky too much. This was also shortly after we were supposed to have some storms rolling through, which made no appearance whatsoever. Or so I thought, until I was out there firing off time exposures and realized how often the sky to the east was flashing, meaning there was an extremely active (though silent) thunderhead somewhere off in that direction.

One of the photographic things that I’ve had on my bucket list for a while is to capture some red sprites or blue jets, odd discharges that emanate from well above the tops of thunderheads and so visible only a significant distance from the storm, and these seemed to be the right conditions. So I loaded up the car and sought out a decent view out to the east. What I located was a boat launch a little way off of the river, up a tributary, but it provided a wider view than anywhere else I’d seen. Since the storm was quite distant (the lightning tracker app on my smutphone placed it as roughly 135 kilometers off!) I started with the long lens.

distant thunderstorm activity peeking over the horizon in time exposure at night
Far too distant to get anything but the barest vestige of the lightning bolts, though the glow and the Spanish moss on the tree gives the impression of a wildfire. However, this perspective won’t show sprites or jets, so I switched back to the wider lens and shot a lot of frames vertically at 18mm

night time exposure of distant storm with clear skies above
The one thing I do know about sprites and jets is that they are dim and very transient, appearing for only a fraction of a second well above the standard electrical discharges, so I shot a lot of frames hoping to catch something, even when I wasn’t seeing any sign of such things myself. Alas, none of the long exposure frames at high ISO revealed anything either. You can see the same two trees from the previous image between the two glowing orange areas from the lightning, while the diffuse glow to the lower right is likely from a phosphate plant – there’s not much else in the direction.

By the way, the two stars in the lower center of the frame, directly above the righthand thunderhead and appearing almost oblong, are Prima Giedi and Algedi, forming the tip of the constellation Capricornus, most of which is below the horizon; just below and slightly right of those is a double star in the same constellation appearing as one, Dabih Major and Minor.

I also turned to the right, facing more south, because the sky was much more interesting there even though the storms were barely visible in that direction.

night time exposure showing center of Milky Way and hint of distant thundrestorm
That’s a halfway-decent view of the center of the Milky Way, for a non-stacked, non-edited, in-camera frame. The bright stars at lower right form the tail of Scorpius, and the nice thick cluster of brighter clouds and darker dust lanes indicate that we’re looking towards the galactic center. No meteors, sprites, or jets in this frame though.

I also followed the Milky Way higher and across the sky more to frame something I’ve long been familiar with.

night time exposure showing dimmer portion of Milky Way with Deneb and Sadr clearly visible
From being out walking at night while living in central New York, I rarely saw the brighter portion of the Milky Way like the previous frame, probably obscured by the nearby city lights most summer nights, but I always knew this section, riding high in the sky and (in this case) stretching from upper right to lower left. There’s a ‘gap’ visible in the dense band of stars, flanked by two brighter stars in the sky, slightly above dead center in this frame. These are what I always considered the ‘gateway’ stars holding that gap; Deneb and Sadr in the constellation Cygnus. Unfortunately my exposure here doesn’t quite carry the same impression, being a little too long and thus capturing a lot more of the dimmer stars within that gap (while not making Deneb and Sadr appear as bright as they are – they can only get so white in a photo.)

But wait! We have something at extreme lower left.

excerpt of previous frame showing possible tiny dim streak of a meteor
Seen here at full resolution, we have a faint streak that might, just might, be a meteor. Or a satellite, since I didn’t do a sequence of frames where I could examine this path for continuation. The teardrop shape to the stars comes mostly from their motion during the time exposure, but likely also from faint clouds or denser humidity affecting their apparent brightness during the exposure. But yeah – not a lot to show for 102 frames in pursuit of this very thing (maybe,) though I admit that I only chanced upon this one and other frames might reveal more of this kind of meteoric goodness if examined closely. The point is, I shouldn’t have to examine them closely – I want a big, bold, flaring or fragmenting streak across the sky. I mean, c’mon now.

night time exposure showing growing thunderhead with clear skies above
Curiously, one of the thunderheads appeared to be growing, likely picking up warmer air off the water well out over the Atlantic now. But I clearly wasn’t having much luck and decided to wrap it up soon after this. These pics aren’t bad, just not what I was really after. And thus we continue my trend of not getting a damn thing worthwhile despite repeated attempts at these meteor showers, and no sign of red sprites or blue jets either, though I know those are much harder to witness. Still, not gonna happen without trying, right?

I gotta drop a backlog

Al DenelsbeckLeave a comment

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.

blossom of blue flag iris Iris versicolor
More to come!

Estate Find XIIX (deal with it)

Al DenelsbeckLeave a comment

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.

common musk turtle Sternotherus odoratus laying eggs in edge of lawn
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.

common musk turtle Sternotherus odoratus laying eggs at edge of lawn
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

Al DenelsbeckLeave a comment

shot of night sky showing Ursa Major, Denebola, and Arcturus through trees
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 5th and 6th, 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

Al DenelsbeckLeave a comment

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:

backlit red Japanese maple leaves with samaras
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.

long exposure of glowing embers in fire pit at night
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:

long exposure of glowing coals in fire pit at night, zoomed during exposure
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.

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