Time to mature

Al Denelsbeck

I mentioned, like, a week ago having a bunch of photos from the NC Botanical Garden, but it was too soon then to post them – they needed time to come to their full potential, mellow and full-bodied.

[Do you like how I can sell being a slack-ass by making it sound like wines or something? And what does “full-bodied” taste like anyway? I doubt they mean fatty. Even “mellow” is pretty questionable – that’s a mood, you pompous gobwits, not a flavor (or even flavour.) All wines are supposed to be associated with mellow. Just once, I want to find one that’s anxious, with overtones of insecurity…]

eastern cicada-killer wasp Sphecius speciosus checking out pitcher plant
Compared to some visits, this one was a little slow – I didn’t spot one Carolina anole, and even the insect species were a bit sparse. The pitcher plants showed the first real activity, among the finds there being this massive eastern cicada-killer wasp (Sphecius speciosus.) Not quite the size of my little finger, it easily outmassed any other Hymenoptera that I’ve seen, and while I have no idea what the venom is actually like, it’s easy to believe getting stung by this would hurt.

There were no cicadas to be seen in the pitcher plants, though I doubt that was what it was after – the cicadas are to feed to their larvae anyway. The nectar that the plant uses to attract and drown insects remained out of reach, and the wasp wasn’t committing, so it flitted from one blossom to another, not to my knowledge accomplishing anything, but who knows what I was missing? There was another species that was taking advantage of this attraction, though.

green lynx spider Peucetia viridans on pitcher plant with unknown wasp prey
I’d just passed through a region of the garden that had typically been home to green lynx spiders (Peucetia viridans) in the past, and spotted not one, nor any sign of webbing or egg sacs, but I found several hanging out on the pitcher plants, including this one already in possession of a meal. Green lynxes are ambush predators, relying on their coloration to escape attention and then snagging their prey when it comes close, and they’re quite capable of taking something far larger than they are. One, probably 1/3 the mass of the cicada-killer at top, nevertheless took a shot at it as it came close; I wasn’t even aware of its presence until I heard the wasp flit away from it with a noticeable buzz. Meanwhile, this lynx is getting a bit large in the abdomen and may not be long before creating an egg sac.

But we need a better illustration.

green lynx spider Peucetia viridans hiding among old flowers
This patch of unidentified older flowers was in the same planter as the aforeseen pitcher plants, very open, and you can see how well the lynx spider blends in – it’s right there, but I’m comfortable saying that most of the visitors to the garden missed it.

green lynx xpider Peucetia viridans potentially guarding hidden egg sac
It didn’t really occur to me at the time, and I didn’t notice the collection of webbing until editing, but the abdomen is suspiciously thin here and the webs a hint, since they don’t use them for hunting: there’s probably an egg sac out of sight beneath the leaves. Mother will hang out near the sac until the young hatch, and run interference for a while to protect them.

A short distance away, another find was resting in the shade of a large leaf.

snowberry clearwing Hemaris diffinis resting in shade
This is a snowberry clearwing (Hemaris diffinis,) one of two hummingbird mimic moths in the area, though they also can appear like bumblebees. It’s easy to believe that this protects them from predators and it almost certainly works (otherwise it would never have evolved,) but the spiders aren’t fooled – I’m guessing birds are. Just a little later on, I debated about passing up a particular section of the garden, but then decided to check it out for just a few minutes, which turned out well.

snowberry clearwing Hemaris diffinis approaching phlox with proboscis unfurled
Another clearwing was making the rounds of a patch of phlox, and I blew quite a few frames in pursuit. This proved challenging, because the hyperactive nature of the moth was defying the autofocus quite often, but attempting to manually focus was much worse, so I have a lot of frames to discard, with enough keepers to make it worthwhile.

snowberry clearwing Hemaris diffinis at phlox
Time spent ‘on station,’ paused at a particular blossom, might have ranged as high as two seconds, but typically it was a second or less – I guess phlox doesn’t produce a lot of nectar. And like many insect species, clearwings don’t seem to follow any pattern, so anticipating their movements is hit-or-miss, and prefocusing on a specific spot largely a waste of time. You just track them as best as you can.

snowberry clearwing Hemaris diffinis deep into phlox
Given the deep, narrow trumpet of the phlox, though, only insects with a long proboscis (butterflies and moths) can get the nectar anyway, apparently pollinating the flowers with their face, as it were. I imagine some really tiny insects could crawl down in there, but due to body size couldn’t make much of a dent on the nectar before they were full.

snowberry clearwing Hemaris diffinis in midair with proboscis unfurled
Had to have one more in midair with the proboscis out. So you know, body length is roughly 5-6cm for the species, so captures like this are more luck than skill, but you didn’t hear that from me.

I had another find in the garden, a first I believe, and couldn’t do it justice despite waiting around to see if it reappeared in better conditions.

juvenile eastern milk snake Lampropeltis triangula triangulum on fence
A very small snake was perched on top of a fenceline, making me stare at it through the camera (this was at 135mm and cropped at that) to first try and confirm that it was a snake, and then, what species. Identification had to wait until I could get back and view the images under more magnification, but I’m calling this a juvenile eastern milk snake (Lampropeltis triangula triangulum,) because right now it’s the only pattern that seems to fit – I’m not sure of any other species that has that speckling along the margins of the belly scales, though most illustrations of the juveniles show brighter patterns and higher contrast than this. I welcome anyone’s input.

juvenile eastern milk snake Lampropeltis triangula triangulum peeking out
The snake was aware of my presence and efforts to get an unobstructed view, and peeped at me cautiously before slipping from sight into some dense foliage. I waited to see if it would reappear anywhere, but no dice, and between its size and the thickness of the plants, it could easily have been watching me while I couldn’t make it out – its body diameter was maybe 5-7mm, overall length not more than 30cm so, you know, lay a few french fries end-to-end. Still, if it was a milk snake, that makes the second that I’ve seen recently (well separated in distance) after going years without seeing one. Trend or coincidence? Only more careful observations will tell.

Visibly different, part 36

Al Denelsbeck

arctic fox Vulpes lagopus in summer coloration, from the NC Zoological Park in Asheboro NC
I’m guessing that more than a few people would fail to recognize my photo subject here, because virtually no source ever shows them at this time of year. This image is actually the first in the ‘Mammals’ category of my slide archives – not the first mammal that I’ve shot (that title probably predates this one,) but the first I took when I switched over to slides. It dates from August 1998, and was taken at the NC Zoological Park in Asheboro. This is what an arctic fox (Vulpes lagopus) looks like in its summer coloration.

For a long time, this was the only way that I’d seen them, given that I live hundreds of kilometers from the Arctic Circle and didn’t tend to visit the zoo in the winter. This coat blends in quite well with the summer conditions up there though, where some days it might even get warmish – actually I don’t really know what temperatures it reaches in the summer, though I’m comfortable saying that I wouldn’t wear sandals as frequently as I do here.

But when I say, “arctic fox,” most people (me included) picture this:

arctic fox Vulpes lagopus in winter coloration, from the NC Zoological Park in Asheboro NC
Same place, and potentially even the same fox, only eight years (and a few months) later in 2006, christmas eve in fact. The weather that day was remarkably warm – even sandals were feasible – but the fox had developed its winter coat by then and now looked properly arcticky. And of course, garnered a lot more attention now by being pure white and fluffy. Which isn’t the goal in its native conditions, but then again, there are very few human females in such locations, and a lot more golden eagles and polar bears that couldn’t give a fig about ‘fluffy’ but have a harder time spotting a white potential meal against a white snowpack background. As do the foxes’ prey, consisting largely of voles, seal pups, and lemmings.

Some things I don’t have as specific goals but am happy to obtain anyway, and variations in coloration or plumage are good things to have in stock. For any given species this might be challenging – breeding plumage especially, since it often lasts only a few weeks and may be sported by just one sex, so capturing good examples of this might take a lot of time. Granted, that wasn’t the case here, and I wasn’t trying to accomplish this anyway, but it was a productive trip overall.

Can’t leave it at that

Al Denelsbeck

Doing a quick check last night (after finalizing the previous post,) I found that I’d uploaded 99 images for August, and that simply won’t do. I got a nice handful today at the NC Botanical Garden, but no time right now to write them up, so we’ll stick with just rounding up to a nice even C.

male eastern box turtle Terrapene carolina carolina from NC Botanical Garden
This is a male eastern box turtle (Terrapene carolina carolina,) the first I’ve seen in quite a while, despite doing a specific search for them – well, for a day, anyway. The red eye tells us it’s a male (most likely,) and the ridges on each of the ‘scales’ (scutes) of the shell tell us it’s about 12 years old. The crushed gravel substrate used in the paths there tell us it’s really uncomfortable kneeling to get a shot.

I have more images, but they’re likely not to get up here until tomorrow at least. Besides, why would I ruin 100?

Closing out

Al Denelsbeck

A few last photos for August, having obtained these just recently. My post and photo counts remain a little behind last year and/or average, but this is the way it’s been. Ya can’t change fate.

zebra swallowtail Eurytides marcellus on butterfly bush Buddleia davidii
Glancing out the window, I spotted a butterfly species that I’d never seen before on one of the butterfly bushes (Buddleia davidii.) It flitted away as I watched, then circled around and came back, so I went and grabbed the camera. It did at least another indecisive loop, but paused long enough on the flowers for me to get a few frames.

zebra swallowtail Eurytides marcellus on butterfly bush Buddleia davidii
This demonstrates that BugGuide.net needs to start using tags on their photos instead of simply searching within the accompanying text, because my search of “black white butterfly” turned up only one species even close, and that was a pale tiger swallowtail. Which this is not – it’s a zebra swallowtail (Eurytides marcellus) and not at all uncommon in the region, despite the fact that I’d never seen one before. BugGuide definitely has them listed, with plenty of photos, but apparently nothing that connects to a search for “black white butterfly.”

[This butterfly bush, by the way, had been planted in the yard but was struggling and appeared near death’s door, so a couple months back I transplanted it into a pot, where it simply exploded – the butterfly bushes do not like our native soil, but my custom potting mix is all kinds of okay to them. I hate to convert large areas into planter beds, but given the results I might have to, in order to have flower beds to attract these kind of subjects.]

While doing this, I checked on the anole lairs, then took a look at the rose of Sharon (Hibiscus syriacus) flowers, doing well for the first time this year (it likes the soil.)

rose of Sharon Hibiscus syriacus blossom showing something within
This blossom was definitely past peak, but as I was doing a few frames, I noticed something within. I paused and leaned closer, and instead of cowering down into better cover, it marched up the petal to a prominent location.

rose of Sharon Hibiscus syriacus blossom with unidentified crab spider
I don’t know the species of crab spider – it might be a young male goldenrod crab spider – and I certainly can’t explain why it made itself as obvious as possible as I loomed over; I wouldn’t think crab spiders would be aware of my enormous reputation as a photographer and skilled blogger, but what can I say? You tell me that’s not a conspicuous flex.

Right alongside this plant, I’ve been seeing another mantis on the blackberry lilies (Iris domestica,) and in the evening checked it out again, catching it on the seed pods that give the flower its names – or one of many, anyway.

adult Chinese mantis Tenodera sinensis on seed pods of blackberry lily Iris domestica
Doing this shot at light, aside from keeping the mantis from getting spooked at my presence, provided an interesting synchronicity with the dark eyes and the exposed seeds – it wasn’t intentional, especially since I didn’t know the mantis would be all the way up at the top of the stalk where the seeds are, but I’ll take credit for it anyway.

I am slightly leery of the mantis being here, because these flowers are right alongside the oak-leaf hydrangea where three of the anoles like to hang out, and the mantis is big enough to make a meal of them, but that’s how nature works. The anoles don’t seem to like the thin stalks of the lilies and the mantis hasn’t taken to the broad leaves of the hydrangea, so at the moment they remain separated.

Across the yard on the largest rosemary bush remains the large adult that I’ve been keeping tabs on, now looking rather promising.

possibly pregnant adult Chinese mantis Tenodera sinensis perched among rosemary branches
This is almost exactly where the first of the oothecas hatched out this spring, lending a little more weight to the suspicion that mantids return to the location where they were born to produce their own oothecas. And she looks almost ready, doesn’t she? Provided it is a she and this is evidence of impending eggs, which I can’t say for sure. But I’m watching carefully, because I still have to get that on film, uh, whatever.

[In fact, I just checked again as I type this, but no indications yet. Sitting there waiting for the event to happen isn’t really viable; it might take days, and in the interim, mantids don’t really do much – she’s been in the same portion of the bush for the past day, and the same bush for well over a week. Plus my presence might actually cause her to delay laying her eggs, so I’m just hoping to catch her as she’s committed.]

One last one, because it’s here.

Monster sleeping with head through upstairs railing
I don’t think I’ve ever seen her sleep like this, but Monster took a little nap with her head poking through the upstairs railing, allowing me a shot from directly underneath. It was just over three years ago that we brought her home as a stray, and I don’t think she misses that life.

Jäähyväiset, August!

Al Denelsbeck

closeup of eye of albino American alligator Alligator mississippiensis
Perhaps not as abstract as many, but I knew it had to show up this month solely from how surreal it looks. This is the albino American alligator (Alligator mississippiensis) that lives at the NC Aquarium at Fort Fisher, who was sleeping close to the glass when I was near – I have a video clip of the eye lazily opening, if you want to see it. The crowning touch is the algae in the crevices of its skin of course, but the pinks and lavender add to the whole effect as well. Yes, the eye is wide open, and yes, the pupil is so small right now that it barely registers – it wasn’t bright in there at all, but maybe albinism makes them more sensitive to light? Perhaps it’s really hungover? Don’t come to me for biological accuracy.

As always, kids nearby kept asking if it was real and/or alive, since it was moving just as much as gators do, which is not at all – they think continental drift is exhilarating (the gators, not the kids.) Naturally, the alligator made some small confirming movement as soon as the kids looked away in boredom, and stopped the moment they looked back, trolling expertly despite having a lizard brain. It knew, all right…

Visibly different, part 35

Al Denelsbeck

adult bald eagle Haliaeetus leucocephalus disappearing into distance
Our opening image is crappy – I’ll admit that, but it’s kinda the point of these posts so don’t get too excited. It comes from 2018 but isn’t really the first image of a bald eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) in the wild that I’ve taken – it’s the first that I can lay hands on. But first, a little backstory.

This area of central NC had never been a decent place to spot bald eagles, and I was largely resigned to not getting any kind of good images unless I traveled elsewhere. They were around, but scarce and always maintaining a great distance. Yet in 2006, a friend and I did a trip out to the coast, and on Lake Mattamuskeet we spotted a raptor wheeling in the distance – the great distance. I was primarily shooting slides, but got out the Canon Pro90 IS digital to fire off a couple of frames because I could zoom way in on the preview image, which contained just barely enough detail to show what appeared to be a white head. Encouraged by this, we backtracked and headed in the direction we’d seen the bird. Long story short: we got quite close to a perched bald eagle, only it was on the opposite side of the car than I was, and my attempt to slip out surreptitiously spooked the eagle off before I could snag any photos. My friend, however, got several great frames right out his car window. That initial digital image of mine that had prompted the efforts wasn’t even worth keeping and got discarded.

Perhaps even before then, there was the release of a rehabilitated injured eagle, and the same friend and I were on hand for photos. We took up stations in opposing directions, and of course upon release the eagle stayed low and swooped in my friend’s direction, allowing him to once again get some slick shots while I mostly saw the backs of people’s heads.

Finally in 2018, Mr Bugg and I spotted a bald eagle low over Jordan Lake as I was driving along the causeway, and quickly pulled in to the closest parking area to go out and scan the skies. We saw not the faintest sign, but on carefully creeping to a new vantage point, we heard the launch of a large bird directly overhead in the trees, and by the time we could maneuver to a clear view, the eagle was already quite distant – that’s the image above, and it’s even cropped closer. Proof that they seemed to be more present than before, but little else.

In 2020, the luck was getting a little better.

likely second year juvenile bald eagle Haliaeetus leucocephalus in flight
This is a juvenile of course, but significantly closer now (still cropped – almost all of these will be) and showing some distinct details. The sky could naturally have been much better, but you take what you can get. This is still Jordan Lake – these are all at Jordan.

We ended up seeing a lot more juveniles than adults, perhaps partially because they’re not as spooky as the adults and thus fly a bit closer to people. Nonetheless, in 2021 I managed a sequence of frames of a fishing adult, farther off than I’d have liked and not the best of light angles, but these remain perhaps the best frames of a wild adult that I have so far.

adult bald eagle Haliaeetus leucocephalus lowering its feet
I had a whole sequence of the descent and capture in the post at that time, but I think I like this one best for the light and position, though it vies with the last one in this post – I’ll let you decide.

Last year I added quite a few frames of the species to my stock, including some from central New York (two trips,) and suddenly it seemed like bald eagles were no longer a “someday” goal but a viable subject for extended images. This year, my luck has been even better in regards to getting close.

juvenile bald eagle Haliaeetus leucocephalus providing noble profile
This one landed in the tree closest to me while I was pursuing images of fledgling red-headed woodpeckers, and sat there for twenty minutes – this is not cropped at all, and while it is shot at 600mm, I could have tagged the eagle with a water balloon. Well, probably not, because my aim sucks, but it was close enough if I had more skill than I do. And the eagle might have appreciated this, because it was definitely feeling the heat that day.

A few weeks later, another close opportunity, possibly even the same bird.

juvenile bald eagle Haliaeetus leucocephalus glaring down from above
This one’s cropped, true, but for dramatic effect, since it was maybe marginally farther than the previous, just not noticeably so. Can’t complain about the light or conditions at all for this one. For demonstrations of progress, these all work pretty well.

To what can I credit this? Mostly, the greater prevalence of the species in the first place – that’s the bulk of it in a nutshell. To a small extent, the knowledge of their profiles and flight habits, and their calls, alerted me to opportunities that I might have missed without them. The one immediately above was seen from hundreds of meters away, confirmed with the long lens, and then approached carefully. One of the juveniles from New York was obtained by hearing a call and seeing an adult fly off, and suspecting that a juvenile might remain nearby, which turned out to be correct – that’s where a little understanding of bird behavior helps out. But mostly, it’s the greater numbers – and being out there in the first place.

So, so old

Al Denelsbeck

juvenile Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis snoozing on dead oak-leaf hydrangea Hydrangea quercifolia blossoms
Well, okay, they’re not that old, but all of the images here were taken before we left on the trip last week, so ranging from seven to ten days ago – you define it as you see fit. Most of these I sat on because I had recently done the exact same subjects and wanted to space it out with some other topics, and we’ve done that now so it’s a go.

Above we have another image of a juvenile Carolina anole (Anolis carolinensis) snoozing on the old oak-leaf hydrangea (Hydrangea quercifolia) blooms, a favorite spot for a while. Like the green treefrogs, the anoles seem to favor one spot for a few days, then move on, but even our cats do that. Meanwhile, I’ve been sleeping on the same aide of the same bed for 12 years or so, with the exception of that time The Girlfriend was ill, which confused the hell out of Kaylee (“She’s on the other side, dumbass – she’s right over there in plain sight!”)

Another on the same plant one evening was in a position that allowed me to slip my measuring scale into the frame, so you can understand their diminutive size.

juvenile Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis alongside millimeter scale
The anole saw me doing it and started to move off, then paused, and I could reposition the scale for a few frames, then remove it and all was hunky-dory. Of course, you need to be familiar with metric to get the right impression, but we should have switched over decades ago anyway so, no sympathy.

Somewhere around there we discovered that there are at least three now on that same hydrangea, while some suspicious movement in the front garden might have indicated a second one there. This is fine by me – the more the merrier.

A day earlier, I caught the spooky one (?) in the front garden in possession of a meal.

juvenile Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis with leafhopper meal
That’s a mere leafhopper crammed into its gullet, and the anole was already fleeing our presence when we spotted it, so I didn’t really have the chance to do more than a couple frames – certainly not any video. Had I spooked it any more, it likely would have just dropped the meal, so I let it be this time. I’m inclined to say that its prey is ‘typical’ leafhopper size, and it is – for this region. But since I can’t vouch for how big or small common leafhoppers may get anyplace else, this description may be meaningless. Overall, it was about the same size as the one alongside the scale up there, so we’re going with that.

I was a little late for this next subject.

newly-molted final instar annual cicada Neotibicen on old exoskeleton
This annual cicada (genus Neotibicen) had emerged from that old exoskeleton over an hour earlier, judging from the positions and fully-dried nature of the wings, so I was far too late to get any of the action, but I’ve captured the entire sequence before and I probably wouldn’t have bothered anyway. I should have changed the flash angle a little to show the exoskeleton better, but oh well.

One last.

green frog Lithobates clamitans in head-on shot
We have at least three green frogs (Lithobates clamitans) living in the backyard pond, one absolutely huge – this is not that one. It’s also completely on the opposite side of the yard from the pond, what would seem to be a big trek for a small species, though it really isn’t; I just expect to see them closer to the water. However, this region was home to a lot more wood roaches, and so I imagine those provided easy and plentiful meals. I got extremely lucky in that the frog, confused by the headlamp and far from an easy escape into the water, stayed put as I stretched out prone on the ground right in front of it for this shot, and even re-angled the flash for better lighting. That hump over the head is actually the frog’s pelvis a bit further back – they really can stick up a bit. In size, this specimen is many times larger than the anoles (whose heads might be about as wide as the frog’s eyes) and could possibly have made a meal of the cicada. As I said, it wasn’t the largest by far – that one could probably eat mice. There are never any wolf spiders found in the backyard anymore, and I’m almost certain these guys are the reason why.

That’s all for now, but I’ll have more before too long, I’m sure.

Not doing that again

Al Denelsbeck

When doing that otter video, it obviously needed some kind of peppy, frivolous, ottery background music, which I don’t think I have available anywhere in my music collection, so I went searching through the royalty-free offerings online. It took about 20 minutes of listening to clips before I located the one that I wanted to use, but then there was an issue: it was only 105 seconds long, and I needed 6:48 (408 seconds.) Not to mention that it had very clearly defined opening and closing sections, so it not only had to be lengthened, it had to be lengthened with internal editing rather than just ‘playing it again.’ While not terribly difficult with Audacity (the software I use for audio editing,) it needed to be subtle enough to avoid sounding patched, so combining between bars and where the music was similar enough to transition easily. And then once lengthened, it was laid into the existing video clips and adjusted for appropriate background volume as I finalized the video, plus reviewed in final form a couple of times before uploading.

The result seems fine to me (we all know about my lack of standards, so hush up,) but the aftermath is, I’ve had that damn song running through my head for the past 24 hours. I’m far too susceptible to earworms, especially ones that I don’t particularly like, and even when I get rid of them with other music, I’ll wake up to them again the next day. Dammitall.

So no, no more cutesy damn videos for a while. They make me irritable for far too long.

Too brief, but still fun

Al Denelsbeck

The Girlfriend and I recently did a two-day trip out to the beach, in this case Carolina Beach and Fort Fisher – couldn’t call it a vacation really, but it’s what we have for now. There was a particular purpose, and timing, to this one, since the NC Aquarium at Fort Fisher houses four Asian small-clawed otters (Aonyx cinereus,) a threatened species. Initially, anyway; in May, a mated pair gave birth to three pups, and The Girlfriend had been watching the website for the news that they were being moved out into the public viewing areas. This occurred last week, and we made our plans and got an early start this past Wednesday to be there shortly after opening, which paid off nicely.

I mentioned in there about potentially showing scale, but one of the few still frames that I attempted of the otter pups shows this best:

Asian small-clawed otter Aonyx cinereus pup in NC Aquarium Fort Fisher against glass in front of unidentified child
No, I don’t know who the kid is, but he’s probably lucky the glass is there – that pup looks like she’s ready to throw down…

After a short period (without too many people crowding around, which was nice,) the otter family disappeared into their den, so we checked out the rest of the aquarium. It’s not a big one, and I only took a handful of photos because, as I said in the previous post, the conditions aren’t really conducive to decent images. It’s either too dark, requiring a push into a very high ISO which just trashes quality, or the sides of the tanks introduce too much distortion, magnified by the nature of lenses – I’d go into why but it’s a bit technical. Suffice to say, the video clips of the cavorting mustelids made up the vast bulk of my photography there. We looped back around later on, but the family was still hidden, typical for many zoo exhibits, especially of mammals: there are small active periods between much larger periods when they’re simply out of sight. Yet we got another brief look at the otters before we left, which are those clips (and the frame above) largely blocked by people. As for the greatly limited efforts with the other exhibits, you’ve already seen one of those frames in the previous post, and another is coming up, oh, sometime around the end of the month. But we have a slightly surreal one from the small wetlands patch outside the buildings, because.

small unidentified turtle atop floating trunk section in pool, NC Aquarium Fort Fisher
Most of the turtles in this pond were clustering around the boardwalk, which is accessed by passing through the cafeteria section of the aquarium – ’nuff said. Their normal turtle diets (and behavior) were augmented a bit by this.

The reflections in the water give a faint indication of the skies the entire time we were there – little direct sun, and a few splatterings of rain drops here and there, though the forecast had called for much worse so we were actually pretty lucky. Just south of the aquarium lie the ferry stops and the end of the island where I’d done most of my shooting a few months back, but the region was extremely quiet this time around. While in the same area, I pulled out my smutphone and played the same clip of clapper rail calls from that post for The Girlfriend, so she knew what to listen for just in case, and despite the lack of volume from the tiny speaker, the marsh grasses practically at our feet suddenly vented forth a challenging call of the same species, quite amusing. We were literally standing within four meters of where the call originated, even elevated above the level of the marsh on a raised walkway, and could spot not the faintest sign of the rail which had responded – no mean feat for something that’s roughly crow-sized in grasses that didn’t even top a half-meter.

In the late afternoon we did a small amount of beach walking and wading, finding that Carolina Beach (where we stayed) wasn’t ideal for this – too crowded and lacking in virtually anything of interest. I fired off a few frames of perched brown pelicans (Pelecanus occidentalis) as we approached them high on their pilings.

pair of brown pelicans Pelecanus occidentalis perched on tall pilings on Carolina Beach
Well, I say their pilings, but I suspect the pelicans hadn’t really erected them – they looked older than the pelicans. If you’re familiar with Carolina Beach you’ve probably seen these, since they’re the only thing that extends into the water, possibly evidence of some past fishing pier eradicated by hurricane season – I don’t know, I’m not looking it up.

We’d been on the road down to the beach during the first morning’s sunrise, so the second was the only one that I had the opportunity to chase, and I was out plenty early but the cloud cover wasn’t the most promising.

pre-sunrise conditions on beach
This was roughly ten minutes before sunrise, and within a few more these colors faded as the sun passed the little gap in the clouds over the horizon which let it peek through – I’ve said it often before, but timing is crucial with sunrise colors. The camera white balance was set for sunlight, but most of the light was scattered from clouds and humidity and this filtered out a lot of the colors, so for giggles I did a tweak more towards ‘neutral,’ which probably represented how it looked to our eyes while out there, since we automatically ‘correct’ colors in our minds unless we make the effort not to. So is this ‘real’ or not? Who ‘cares?’

same frame with color tweak
I actually like this one a little better – it just seems a tad less bichromatic, and hints at how the sky to the right lacked most of the pinks. This is aimed right towards the approaching sun, but as I said, the colors soon faded from the blocking clouds. No green flash for this morning.

About ten minutes after rising, the sun broke through again and I had a little more to play with.

gulls against sunrise on Carolina Beach
Not a lot of course, but I did what I could – at least the various bird species were active in the sky and I could practice my timing. This peek of the sun was harsh but brief, and it soon became heavy haze to overcast conditions for the rest of the day there. I recropped this same frame to change the emphasis, so you can decide for yourself which one is more fartsy.

same frame with radically different crop
I can’t say this area is drawing me back at all. Nothing at all on the beach itself to work with. Fishing boats? A single one far off in the distance. A couple of surfers plying waves a meter high. Not even any military aircraft. I might have had more to play with a few kilometers south at the end of the island, but this was within walking distance of our motel. So one more just for the sake of it, as the light was growing too bright, and we’re done for the brief trip pictures and will return to lizards and bugs. Unless I find something else locally.

pelican and seagull against sunrise colors

For the moment

Al Denelsbeck

juvenile wood duck Aix sponsa perched in Fort Fisher Aquarium
The Girlfriend and I just got back from a short trip and I have a few items to feature here, but also a few other things going on right now, so they will be a short while. [See title again], we have this juvenile wood duck (Aix sponsa) that required no particular nature photography skills, since it was taken within the NC Aquarium at Fort Fisher. And if you poke around for even a minute or so at that link, you’ll have an inkling of what’s in store.

I don’t really like aquariums for photography, since 80% of the exhibits are nigh impossible to get decent photos within, thus I’ve shot a lot less than normal for such a trip, but we were there largely to see their headline attractions, and those were photographically accessible, at least. Don’t touch that mouse!*

* You are not looking at this site on your phone, are you? Holy shit, stop playing with fucking toys and perform your web activities correctly. Sheesh.

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