Think I missed it

Al Denelsbeck

Out watering the plants and doing my routine check in the backyard this evening, I found not only the fat green treefrog (Dryophytes cinereus) on the trumpet flower that I photographed a few nights ago, but a Carolina mantis not too far away on the same plant. Carolina mantises are much smaller than the Chinese and this was not an impressive specimen, perhaps topping 6cm. Having seen too few of these this year, I went in and grabbed the camera as soon as I was done with the watering to get a few pics, noting as I did so that this wasn’t the safest location for the mantis, being within 25cm of the frog.

On my return, there was no sign of either, and it had only been a couple of minutes – neither species tends to move around that much. Then I found the treefrog.

green treefrog Dryophytes cinereus on bud for trumpet flower Brugmansia
This was not at all where it had been, but just underneath the spot where the mantis had been (that’s a flower bud that it’s clinging to, by the way.) This did not bode well for the mantis, but I commenced a careful check of the surroundings in case it had effected an escape – the treefrog’s change in position seemed to indicate that it had at least taken a shot.

But there was no sign of the mantis, and as I observed the frog, it made a little ‘lip smack,’ a motion that they often do after eating something – perhaps it helps to work the meal down or something; I’ve seen the anoles do it too. Since it repeated this behavior every fifteen seconds or so, it took a few tries but I managed to capture it.

green treefrog Dryophytes cinereus doing 'lip smack' motion
I have no other way of determining the mantid’s fate, but I consider this pretty solid evidence that it became a treefrog’s repast. Of course it happened between observations, when I was already aware of the potential. Ah well – that’s how it goes.

Just because, part 50

Al Denelsbeck

great egret Ardea alba with little snack of a fish
I was over at the neighborhood pond today doing a few tests, and had a great egret (Ardea alba) spooked by one of the ubiquitous dog-walkers fly over close to my position, then continually stalk closer. I would credit this to my amazing abilities to remain unseen, had I not been far from motionless in plain sight and talking to The Girlfriend on the phone during the egret’s approach. So I’m crediting it instead to a hungry bird that was reasonably used to people.

It’s funny: I’ve long known that, when in pursuit of food, herons and egrets focus almost entirely on that and ignore how close people are getting, as long as it’s a slow and unobtrusive approach, but there are also personalities among individuals, regardless of species, where some aren’t too concerned about humans while some won’t allow anyone within 25 meters, and thankfully this was one of the former. The image is with the long lens and cropped of course, but the bird was still within five meters by its own efforts. I can always work with that.

Eagles and lesser

Al Denelsbeck

I’m finally getting around to posting ‘part two’ of the Jordan Lake outing mentioned earlier, which is not the Jordan Lake outing from yesterday, which yielded only cruel juvenile woodpeckers. I had to split up the photos because there were too many, and so we get to the more specific topic of raptors.

The outing started out with a lot of promise, given this appearance within ten minutes of arrival.

adult bald eagle Haliaeetus leucocephalus cruising overhead
I don’t even have to tell you this is an Haliaeetus leucocephalus, what the great unwashed know as a “bald eagle,” and better than four years old because anyone can tell you it’s a bald eagle, meaning it has its post-4-year white head and tail, unlike the next couple that we’ll see. Unfortunately, even though it passed directly overhead, it did so from the direction of the blerk-y sky and thus is far from an impressive frame. It gets a little better.

Not two minutes later, we could see others wheeling nearby, seeming to stay in the immediate area (meaning within a few hundred meters, which is close in regard to circling raptors.)

first year juvenile bald eagle Haliaeetus leucocephalus overhead during molt
This is a first year juvenile eagle, again distinguished by the coloration, but undergoing a molt which has left the trailing edges of the wings completely ratty-looking – no, this was before the hurricane and not evidence of any form of distress. You can determine this by the uniformity: birds tend to molt their feathers in matched pairs, left and right, to avoid uneven lift, so when you see shorter feathers that match on both sides, the bird is only molting.

Since they tended to disappear behind trees in their circles, the fact that there were two the same age could easily have been disguised, if it wasn’t for the non-matching conditions of their wings

first year juvenile bald eagle Haliaeetus leucocephalus not molting
Siblings? Possibly – certainly this year’s brood, and they were hanging out together in harmony, so this seems likely. But this one has wings that largely look the way they’re supposed to, and by that token appears healthier to us, even though this is meaningless.

We’ll take a moment to feature the other two raptors photographed on this outing, because they did nothing of interest.

possibly juvenile red-tailed hawk Buteo jamaicensis soaring in distance
This is a red-tailed hawk (Buteo jamaicensis,) probably a third the size of the eagles even though it’s the largest of the hawks in the area (the vultures outclass them though.) Something doesn’t seem quite right about the coloration and I suspect this is also a juvenile, though redtails can display a lot of variation in adult plumage, so I’m not committing to this and want to keep things casual. The day was quite windy with strong updrafts, so even the lazy redtails could soar with little effort.

It disappeared over some trees and, a few minutes later, this one appeared from the same general area

red-shouldered hawk Buteo lineatus wheeling against blue sky
This, however, is a red-shouldered hawk (Buteo lineatus,) slightly smaller and more energetic than the redtails, but not by much on either account. You can distinguish them in flight by the lack of a dark ‘belt’ band across the belly that the redtails have, and the even barring on the undersides of the wings and tail. You can also distinguish them by call, since redtails have that ubiquitous single ‘eagle scream’ used in every movie and TV show, while redshoulders have a repeating, wailing call, even though it’s nearly the same pitch. Before this appearance, I had heard the calls of a redshoulder and suspected a territorial dispute, though this one seemed to be hunting and not fleeing or pursuing, so who knows?

That’s all I got for the other species, so now back to the eagles.

encounter between adult and first year juvenile bald eagles Haliaeetus leucocephalus
At one point, an adult and the molting juvenile engaged in a wheeling encounter in the air, appearing to chase one another – this can take a little time because such heavy birds don’t twist and dive like smaller birds might, but adjust flight paths in their circling to intercept one another, so even an antagonistic encounter might not appear so at first. This is the full-frame version of one close pass, but we need to go in tighter.

closer crop of encounter between eagles
The notable thing about this was, neither had their talons extended as they might in a true territorial dispute, and the juvenile certainly didn’t vacate the area under this provocation – it seemed more like they were playing, though I have no idea if they even do this. Was this a parent ‘priming’ their child for potential aggressive attacks from others? Given the age disparity, I can’t believe it’s linked to mating behavior. Any ornithologists are welcome to weigh in.

first year juvenile bald eagle Haliaeetus leucocephalus beginning descent
Seven minutes later, the same juvenile was still wheeling around nearby, and this time the talons were visibly dangling, something that they typically do when about to descend for prey. Yet it wheeled around several times without descending or retracting the talons, and I wish I had a better photo of this from the side where they were more visible, but focus had wandered too far off for those frames and I won’t show them or even admit that I have them, so you’ll have to compare this with other photos above. Eventually, however, it seemed to commit and I tracked the descent, though the only good frame came after the capture.

first year juvenile bald eagle Haliaeetus leucocephalus climbing out with small catfish
Ya gotta admit, that’s not too shabby given the distance, which was better than 50 meters. While osprey will slam into the water and then launch themselves back out of it, I’ve only ever seen eagles do a running surface snag, getting nothing more than their feet wet, and one of these days I’ve have the rig dependable enough to capture this on video – it’s in process, even as I type this, but all will be revealed when it’s a working system.

Overall, I’m pleased with the day’s haul, and it keeps raising the bar for further efforts. You’ll know when I’m successful.

Still green

Al Denelsbeck

I had a few of these images waiting for an opportunity to write them up (while giving a little space from the last post about them,) and just now, I added some more. The raptors from the previous lake trip are still waiting in the wings – a ha ha ha.

We’ll start with the oldest, dating back to September 20.

tiny juvenile green treefrog Dryophates cinereus on iris stem
tiny juvenile green treefrog Dryophytes cinereus with photographer's fingers for scaleThis minuscule juvenile green treefrog (Dryophytes cinereus) was perched on the stem of the blackberry iris plants in The Jungle, slightly surprising since, from the size, it was a recent hatching and I didn’t think there were any green treefrog tadpoles in the backyard pond, but here we are. I managed to slip my fingers in there for scale to illustrate that this one could fit comfortably on my fingernail, well under 1/6 adult size. So far, it’s been the only one that age that I’ve found.

adult green treefrog Dryophytes cinereus on hydrangea leaf during day
Same day but out back on the deck, this adult sat in bright sunlight, which is rare – they tend to avoid both the heat and the light and pick areas that will remain in shadow, and I waited for this one to move but it stayed put all afternoon. I know because I was working on the deck that day, making a racket, which may explain the hungover appearance.

I’m still monitoring the juvenile Carolina anoles (Anolis carolinensis) living on the oak-leaf hydrangea in The Jungle, and while I spotted some behavior a few weeks back that I was hoping to capture on video, I have yet to see a repeat of it, or indeed much daytime activity, so we have to settle for nighttime finds when they’re tucked in for the evening.

juvenile Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis awkwardly head down for the night
I struggled to get a good flash angle on this one, with the result that it doesn’t look half as nestled in as it was, almost obscured under that overhanging leaf – I’m reasonably certain that it did this to combat the chill from the drop in overnight temperatures now, and not from an attempt to hide better, given how often I find them well out in the open.

juvenile Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis sleeping vertically on rose of Sharon Hibiscus syriacus stem
This one’s hiding ability was also a bit weak despite the obvious attempt, because the white belly showed up well in the headlamp, but you have to admire the talent to sleep vertically like that and not fall down. The simple act of maneuvering around 90° for a profile angle took more than you might imagine, given the undergrowth and vines throughout that could inadvertently disturb the rose of Sharon that the anole was sleeping upon – it required a big detour around the oak-leaf hydrangea and stepping carefully to get the next frames.

side view of juvenile Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis on rose of Sharon Hibiscus syriacus
Anoles are light sleepers, and while I prefer to get them with their eyes closed to carry the thought of snoozing, it doesn’t always happen as they hear me approaching. This one was okay at first, but soon became suspicious.

side view of juvenile Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis on rose of Sharon Hibiscus syriacus showing color change
It never moved, and often enough they’ll close their eyes again even as the flash is going off at close range, but this one betrayed its anxiety by undergoing a color change in the 90 seconds between these frames, becoming a little more olive. They seem to turn their palest green at night, and I suspect this helps them gather and maintain body heat and/or dew, but that’s just a guess.

Around in the backyard, I spotted a bright spot where there shouldn’t have been one, leading to another find.

adult Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis sleeping within cowbell wind chime
My attempts at establishing shots with the flash unit and macro lens didn’t fare well, but this is a large iron cowbell-like wind chime that hangs fairly low, the wind sail on the clapper about 25cm off the ground. What you see in the gap is the eye of an adult anole who had gotten inside to sleep, and I don’t know if it leapt up to the clapper from the ground, jumped across from the fence nearby, or shinnied up the hanging crook to come down from above. I had enough trouble just trying to get light in there, and so far, this hiding spot has not been reused.

Then came both the drastic drop in overnight temperatures, and Hurricane Ian, and I didn’t spot any anoles after that. I was suspecting that they’d found their winter hiding spots, not really sure how late they might appear, but then just tonight I found two of them again, once again out on the oak-leaf hydrangea in The Jungle.

juvenile Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis sleeping nestled in leaf under dried flowers
This one was tiny, and nestled well down under the curled leaves and the dried flowers, necessitating a lot of shifting to get a decent view and flash angle. It’s not ideal and shows no signs of adhering dew, but anything else would have disturbed the plant.

juvenile Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis exposed except for head
This one, 30cm or so away from the previous, was even worse, and I never got a view of the head at all. I tried one frame that would have gotten the tip of its snout, had the flash angle been better, but gave it up. I could have gotten the ring flash back out, but didn’t consider it worth the effort.

On the same hydrangea, I found that I was being watched myself.

tiny juvenile green treefrog Dryophytes cinereus perched on oak-leaf hydrangea Hydrangea quercifolia branches
This guy was small enough, and close enough to the original location, that I suspect it to be the same tiny treefrog from above. It was deeper and more sheltered than it appears here, so getting something for scale in the frame wasn’t going to happen.

Also a little surprised by this next one.

probable male Chinese mantis Tenodera sinensis on Japanese maple
I haven’t seen any Chinese mantids (Tenodera sinensis) for a while now, and from the size I’m guessing this one’s a male, found on the Japanese maple near the front door. It was moving sluggishly in the chill, but I was still seeing moths out so the opportunities for food are still there. The opportunities for mating remain to be seen, and we’re close to the end of the life span for mantids now.

And finally, a fartsy one.

rotund adult green treefrog Dryophytes cinereus sitting complacently on trumpet flower Brugmansia branch
This rotund little adult was perched stoically on one of the trumpet flowers (Brugmansia) in the backyard, and I kind of expected him to ask me what favor he could do for me on this, the occasion of his daughter’s wedding. But he never broke the silence, so I guess that Canon MP-E 65mm macro lens is going to wait a little longer. Yes, positioning with that curled leaf in the background was intentional, thanks for noticing.

So that planned post went from eight to thirteen frames with a quarter-hour of shooting tonight, and now that those are out of the way, we get to the eagles.

Played

Al Denelsbeck

I stopped down at the lake briefly today, curious to see how the water level had changed following the hurricane (significantly, but not quite back to normal,) and see what might appear. Even since filming the young red-headed woodpeckers (Melanerpes erythrocephalus) leaving the nest, I’ve been on a quest for photos of any of the juveniles still inhabiting the area. I’ve heard them from time to time, but always a moderate distance away, too far for decent telephoto shots, and never heard or saw them come closer. This time was largely no different: I heard them, even caught a glimpse of two of them chasing one another I believe (too far for a positive ID,) but nothing close. Still, I waited in a likely clearing to see if they might come closer.

While I waited, I picked one distinct pine tree to lock focus upon so the camera would be within the right focus range and hopefully obtain a lock much faster if I did see one. Focusing on the trunk, I panned upwards just a hair and boom.

juvenile red-headed woodpecker Melanerpes erythrocephalus perched on pine trunk
I can’t say whether it flew in right while I was focusing, or if it had been sitting there largely motionless and I simply missed it, but it was a pleasant surprise in the viewfinder, and never made a sound. I have had more than my share of luck with these guys this year, and even though this one was reluctant to enter the sun, it was clear that the red hood plumage of the adult wasn’t developed yet, making me 80% sure this was one of the ones photographed earlier in the nest, which sat not ten meters behind me. In fact, there were small details that I captured, not exactly clearly, but clear enough:

juvenile red-headed woodpecker Melanerpes erythrocephalus showing first red feathers on head
If you look close, you can see two little red feathers on the head, the first indications of adult coloration. I don’t know when this actually develops, but I’d guess it comes in fully over winter for a nice display during the spring breeding season.

I sought out other subjects, but after a while some woodpecker calls drew me back into the clearing, and I watched one (probably the same one, but who can tell?) flitting back and forth between three trees.

juvenile red-headed woodpecker Melanerpes erythrocephalus foraging in existing drill hole
This tree sat not five meters from the nest tree, but those holes were already there and probably had been for a while – still, I like the action pose and the barest faint red feather visible on the head.

Then came the mistake. In wandering around, I had seen the massive anthill and was avoiding it, mentally bookmarking its location, but then this guy started shifting back and forth, literally right over my head, and I shifted back and forth myself trying for the best angles. As I paused to fire off a few frames, I felt the all-too-familiar itching/burning sensation on my sandaled feet, and knew even before I looked down that I’d blundered into the anthill.

swarm of red imported fire ants Solenopsis invicta on disturbed anthill
This was taken after I’d scampered over to the lake edge, thankfully not far away, and thoroughly rinsed the little bastards off of my feet. From that color pattern, I’m pretty sure these are my old nemesis the red imported fire ants (Solenopsis invicta,) normally encountered a couple states further south at least. That they seem to be moving into the area is not at all a good sign, and that I was attacked by them is de rigueur – if they’re around, they will bite me.

Though in this case, I’m dead positive that I was manipulated into this by the woodpecker, who not only flew back and forth over me repeatedly to cause me to shift position like some silly marble game, but favored me with this look, only noticeable on close cropping of one of the frames:

juvenile red-headed woodpecker Melanerpes erythrocephalus giving nice profile perched on trunk
Oh yeah, that’s a look that says, “I can walk this guy right into the ants, because nature photographers are tools.” And here I thought we had a nice rapport going…

Visibly different, part 40

Al Denelsbeck

juvenile possible black-crowned night heron Nycticorax nycticorax
Our opening image this week once again comes from Florida, but I’m not exactly sure where in Florida – Atlantic coast, definitely, but I just can’t remember where I took it. Given the appearance of the rocks, this may well have been right where I frequently snorkeled, though the obscure, defocused foliage at the edges tells me I was shooting through a gap and there weren’t a lot of screening plants near that area. And yet, the subject indicates that I probably would have tried to use whatever cover I could, since this is an immature night heron, probably the first I’d photographed, and I wouldn’t have wanted to spook it off.

‘Night heron’ is a little vague, though – there are two night heron species in the region: the yellow-crowned night heron (Nyctanassa violacea) and the black-crowned night heron (Nycticorax nycticorax.) The juveniles of both species are nearly identical, differentiated largely by the color of their bill – the yellow-crowned has a “mostly dark” bill while the black-crowned has a “yellowish” bill. Though if you look at the images at those links, you’ll find that their photos aren’t as clearly-defined as their descriptions – they’re not that visibly different at all. But given this, I’ll tentatively identify the image above as a black-crowned. The first scan that I have was created in 2004, which is right in line with my tenure in Florida. Now we jump ahead sixteen years to 2020.

juvenile yellow-crowned night heron Nyctanassa violacea in profile
This was at the neighborhood pond, and while this is a cropped image (I’m recycling it from a post back then,) it’s only cropped to a vertical – it’s using the full height of the original frame. Obviously, both closer now and using a longer lens; I’m not sure what was used for the first image, but knowing my habits, it was either the old Olympus kit with the 75-260mm zoom, or the Canon with the lightweight 75-300mm, because I typically biked to the snorkeling area with the camera stuff in a waistpack. The bulky and heavy Sigma 170-500mm was carried during dedicated photo trips and not on the bike. But the latter photo was definitely with the Tamron 150-600mm and I was ridiculously close, because the bird was being remarkably mellow. Given that bill color, I identified this as a yellow-crowned instead. The neck lends a little support to this: yellow-crowned have longer necks, but all of the herons can make them appear much shorter, so this is not a reliable metric.

It’s much easier when they’re adults.

black-crowned night heron Nycticorax nycticorax preparing to strike
Black-crowned above, yellow-crowned below.

yellow-crowned night heron Nyctanassa violacea peering down from tree
Even from a great distance, those heads can be differentiated, so the key for distinguishing the juveniles is, wait around until their adult plumage comes in. Subscribe for more handy tips.

Meanwhile, the primary difference between the success of the two initial photos? Nothing deep or poignant, just the opportunity presenting itself. And carrying the camera as frequently as possible – that bit can only help.

Enough without

Al Denelsbeck

A week ago the Incorrigible Mr Bugg and I did an outing to Jordan Lake, with the consideration that it would be a sunset shoot if the rain held off. Despite some issues which greatly reduced the number of useful images (which I’ll get into shortly,) there were enough for more than one post and I had to decide how to break them up. I ended up separating out all of the raptor images, so they’ll be along in a later post while this one will be devoid of birds of prey entirely. Well, that all depends on your definition of “prey” I guess. But first, some eclectic finds.

The lake level was down significantly, allowing us to skirt the shore away from the thick, briar-laden undergrowth a lot farther than normal. We’d seen such areas from kayaks, but this was the first opportunity to do some detailed exploring, as well as carrying some proper photographic equipment – neither of us will carry our normal camera kit in the kayaks, so that leaves only the waterproof sport cameras. And the low waterline revealed something normally hidden.

entrance to lake bank beaver lodge
This is, I’m almost certain, the entrance to an old beaver lodge. Most people are familiar with the idea that beaver lodges are mound-shaped structures sitting in the middle of a pond created or expanded by damming, but I can’t say that I’ve ever seen one; every lodge that I’ve come across in NC has been a hollow into the banks of a pond, lake, or river, and this is the first that I’ve been able to get a good look at. Usually tucked in among roots that help maintain the structural integrity, they lead from under the surface along and upwards into a chamber above water, shielded from all predators. For perspective, I was shooting from a standing position on the edge of the current water level, with the ‘normal’ lakeshore at nearly chest level, 1.5 meters higher; the opening that you see here is about 30cm across. This is not as deep under water as I would have expected, but perhaps they were relying on the thicker root cover that existed then. It’s clear that it’s been abandoned for years, which is testament to the beavers’ abilities, especially given the fluctuating water levels and significant erosion around the lake. Here’s a closer look:

close look of entrance to abandoned beaver lodge
Seems almost a bit haphazard, but my understanding is that the entrance is structured so that most of the water is squeezed out of the beavers’ fur as they enter, leaving things relatively dry in the sleeping/birthing chamber. I’ve also heard that they have an air opening someplace well back from the entrance, one that can probably be quickly expanded to an emergency exit if something does start digging at the entrance, but I have never found distinct evidence of this myself and, if you look at that top photo, would have a devil of a time trying to this time. Obviously I couldn’t see very far into this one, but it remains the best view I’m likely to get of one without an underwater camera and some decent lights.

A little further away, the season revealed something that I’ve been kind of keeping an eye open for.

lone persimmon on treeThat’s a persimmon, and they grow wild around here sporadically; usually I come along after the fruit has ripened and is gone, because a lot of critters like it. Unfortunately, this was in an area that it would be difficult to access again and thus keep an eye on, nor was it enough to distinguish persimmon trees from others to me – there are way too many trees with leaf-shaped leaves. But the reason why I’d like to identify them is that it provides a dependable bit of activity at nights when the fruits ripen, making it possible to stake out the area; most times, the peregrinations of wildlife are semi-random and not routine, so trying to set up a blind may be a really boring night or three. But the brief ripe season attracts lots of foragers like raccoons, opossums, foxes, and coyotes, and the only other place I’ve seen them doesn’t allow access at night.

Along the shore a few hundred meters came proof that the concept is valid, at least:

feces, likely fox scat, showing significant load of persimmon seeds
Given the size, shape, and texture, this is likely fox feces, and it’s absolutely riddled with persimmon seeds, explaining why I only found one persimmon, and a fresh one at that, at the base of the tree. Hey, you always said you come here for the shit photos…

The day was actually pretty good for the raptors, but we obtained enough images of egrets as well, and a couple of herons. Two images stand out for me.

great egret Area alba cruising over trees
This is a great egret (Ardea alba,) and it was part of a minor altercation. This one cruised in and intruded on another’s territory, and after it disappeared beyond the trees it reappeared about ten seconds later with another in pursuit. But for now, we take a long look at the symmetry and patterns of those backlit wings; along the lower (left) wing, you can even clearly make out the bones, the elbow sitting close to the torso.

When they reappeared, I snagged a handful of images of them both while the chase was carried out silently, which is rare in my experience. One image had to be cropped close for display:

great egret Ardea alba in flight profile
This is actually full resolution of a frame at 600mm from quite some distance away, so I’m glad autofocus behaved itself for a few frames. While I like the lines, I especially like the feathers standing up on the back of the neck, looking windswept but more likely a factor of the territorial chase being enacted, and I can’t recall if this was the chaser or the chasee. There’s also that angular evidence along the throat that their vertebrae are much longer than ours.

As I said, we were considering sunset but the weather reports and the sky itself rendered this highly questionable, though we stuck around to see for sure. Not long before it was to occur, the rain started and we began heading back to the car, but kept an eye on the conditions because the clouds weren’t really indicating a heavy storm, and sure enough, it stopped after a couple of minutes. The sun had remained hidden for most of the afternoon, but as it neared the horizon it broke from cloud cover, still out of sight from us, but lighting up the treetops just behind us. Within minutes, it started illuminating the clouds from underneath.

sunset colors with crepuscular rays
This is where I screwed up, twice. The first was in not bracketing heavily, including with the contrast and saturation settings within the camera, because the images I have don’t show one of the details that I desperately wanted to capture. You can make out the crepuscular rays coming over the trees, but what doesn’t show is the narrow patch of falling rain from a different cloudburst off to the right, appearing in the sunlight as sheets of vertical mist glowing orange. They’re there, just right of center, but not defined enough.

rainbow over Jordan Lake and sailboatI also failed to realize that the image stabilizer had gotten turned off on the lens somehow, and with the lowering light, too many of the images suffered from motion blur – I’ve gotten spoiled by the technology. So when we turned and looked behind us to see the rainbow, I only captured a couple of frames even as the rain (that had just passed us) moved on and the rainbow faded.

I do have the habit of checking the lens settings as I take the camera from the bag, most times, anyway, but I admit to not checking them every time, and got stung by it. I’m also about to make a small modification to my lenses to differentiate the autofocus, stabilizer, and limiter switches by feel, because too often I’m attempting to change them on the fly as I’m viewing a subject that I want to capture, and lens manufacturers haven’t felt obligated to put these switches all in the same places. I can’t tell you how many little things I would change on equipment if I had the chance, though it really is on me to accommodate things as they are.

Coming up: the raptors from the same outing.

Who am I kidding?

Al Denelsbeck

unidentified conifer conesAs Hurricane Ian passed through the area, we fared pretty well overall – we’re far enough inland and, even though it passed closer than all predictions up until less than a day ahead of time, it had lost most of its energy by the time it hit central NC. We heard gusting winds from time to time, but not terribly fierce, and all that dropped in the yard were small branches (and acorns – thousands of acorns, from just one tree.) Power blipped several times, preventing me from tackling any computer projects because the sudden disappearance of my work was something that I wanted to avoid, but it never stayed out more than a minute; I spent more time resetting clocks (multiple times) than that.

The storm did halt some of our plans, but so did some unidentified illness that sapped all of my energy, so it shares the blame. No, the noticeable impact came from losing internet connection, which lasted for two days – I’d say that’s why you weren’t seeing posts, but I’ve gone longer than that with no good excuses so I’m not going to draw your attention to this. And while I’ve always felt that I could fare reasonably well without being as ‘connected’ as most people with their Instashit and Spybook and burying their noses in their dicks smutphones constantly, this kind of drove home how much I actually rely on the internet. Not social media, but it’s my main info and entertainment source, and I spent a lot of time thinking, Well, I could – no, that won’t work, and, I’ll just look up – no I won’t either, and, Why don’t I – nope, forget it. I still had a data connection on my own smutphone, but this is a remarkably frustrating experience because it’s incredibly slow and sporadic, partially from a weak connection here, but also because phones fucking suck for browsing the internet or, indeed, typing any damn thing at all into them. I can say that the outage at least held off until I got past a semi-emergency session of harassing both Travel Inn and Booking.com over their inability to provide the basic services that they advertise, and thus will heartily recommend that you never do business with either of these corporations.

This outage/delay really did have an impact herein, however, in that I finally had some decent stuff to post about and could only edit the photos and consider what I would write – that’s coming up shortly.

What does this have to do with the image here? Oh, not a damn thing – I just had it sitting in the blog folder for not quite seven years and decided to finally use it, since nothing topical had arisen in that time. Just a simple image, but you find a spot where such funky little pine cones all line up so nicely. Until then, save your sneering.

Oh, yeah, forgot about this one

Al Denelsbeck

We have a late entry for the month-end abstract:

dispersing milkweed-type seeds
Technically, it’s an early entry, since it was shot on August 31st, though after the month-end image for August had already posted. I’d cropped and saved it just for this purpose, if I didn’t find one more appropriate in the interim, and then forgot about it until I was skimming the blog folder. It comes from the same outing to the NC Botanical Garden seen here, and I can’t tell you what these are seeds of – they have the appearance of milkweed (and I named the image that way) but I don’t think that’s correct. I mean, do you really want to know? I could find out, if it means a lot to you [read: you are willing to pay money for the knowledge.] Let me know.

Meanwhile, don’t you like the definition of those ‘feathers?’ Mamiya 80mm macro all the way, baby! Plus the forethought of using them as the focal point, of course. Are you sure you don’t want to know what they are?

It is an ex-September

Al Denelsbeck

Yes indeed, despite the scarce posts this month, we can let it go on no longer – you had more than enough time, September, so the fault is all your own (which nicely deflects the blame from me.) What kind of abstract have you produced?

osprey Pandion haliaetus cruising past with fish in blurred pan
Hmmm, well, we expected more after all this time, but a C for effort anyway.

This was another snagged during that trip to Jordan Lake the other day. The exposure compensation was still set for shooting against the sky when the osprey (Pandion haliaetus) appeared against the trees with no time for adjustments, making it overexposed for the conditions, yet the blur from the pan and the wings was semi-interesting, so here we are. There may well have been others images that worked better for the month-end abstract, but this is being re-edited only an hour before it’s due to post, so not a lot of time to go searching if I want to keep to my meaningless and almost-certainly-unnoticed schedule for no reason that anyone can determine. Call it a reflection of my mood right now – I’ll work on it.

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