Jäähyväiset, August!

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

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

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

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

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

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.

That could be it

Chris Corlew wrote in a recent article on Cracked:

I think all artists could benefit from doing “catch and release” stuff from time to time. Write a poem no one ever hears, sketch a picture no one ever sees, compose a song no one ever sings. Kinda like a Tibetan Buddhist Sand Mandala. Practice your craft for craft’s sake.

Yeah. That’s what I’m doing. That makes it all noble and intentional. You might even call it zen.

I don’t think that crack (heh!) about, “from time to time,” was necessary, though…

Visibly different, part 34

This week we have another current set of images, all taken within a few days and since last week’s offering.

One of the many things that we planted this year was tomatoes, and started a serious number of tomato vines in various locations. As always, the hornworms eventually discovered these and started doing their damage – in this case it was the tobacco hornworms (Manduca sexta, actually the larva of the Carolina sphinx moth.) Tomato and tobacco plants are closely related, and the tomato and tobacco hornworms will feed freely on either, though I’ve only ever seen the tobacco hornworms in the past several years; they’re distinguished by the white markings on the sides, diagonal lines for tobacco, chevrons for tomato.

I had significant help in controlling them this year, though, because the braconid wasps were active early on, as determined by the number of hornworms that I found already sprouting cocoons.

tobacco hornworm Manduca sexta larva showing cocoons of braconid wasp
Braconid wasps (there are 1700 subspecies, so no I’m not going to be specific) lay their eggs in the bodies of numerous species of caterpillar, where they hatch and the larva begin eating the caterpillar from the inside. As they reach pupal age, they burrow out of the skin and create cocoons on the outer surface of the caterpillar’s skin, where they will eventually emerge as adults. This is, as you might imagine, a bit hard on the hornworms, and though they’ll remain alive throughout the process, they expire soon afterward. I found quite a few examples of hornworms so adorned, which made my job easier.

The other evening, I found the one above, and another within a handful of centimeters but lacking any evidence of braconid attentions.

tobacco hornworm Manduca sexta larva without cocoons
Given their proximity, I was a bit skeptical that this one had actually escaped the wasps, and suspected that it would soon erupt in cocoons, so I left it alone on the tomato plant alongside the other (which I knew would be doing minimal damage, if any, beyond this point.) And I made sure to check from time to time.

Notably, it wasn’t moving or feeding much, which I considered a good sign (good for me and/or the braconids, not so much for the caterpillar.) I wasn’t checking it frequently, but I did make it a point to examine the back for any signs of egress, never spotting anything. Three days later, however, my suspicions were confirmed.

same tobacco hornworm Manduca sexta larva now showing new braconid wasp cocoons
Yep, that’s a serious litter right there, but wait – what’s that in the center (that I didn’t fully notice until examining the photos after unloading)? Yeah, that’s a braconid larva/pupa, in the process of spinning its cocoon. This made me go back out to examine it closely, with the possible intention of doing some video of the process.

Alas, it was barely moving, so video was pointless, but I did collect the branch with the hornworm and bring it in for more controlled ‘studio’ work – this allowed me to go for the serious magnification without worrying about my own steadiness, the wind, getting the flash past the nearby leaves, and so on.

braconid wasp larva/pupa newly emerged from body of tobacco hornworm Manduca sexta larva
There’s a wad of silk barely visible behind the head on the left, but the larva’s movement was sparse – certainly not seeming to make a cocoon. I couldn’t vouch for what was happening here, but another discovery on the opposite side of the hornworm might be a clue.

tobacco hornworm Manduca sexta larva showing exit wound and started cocoon from braconid wasp
It would be easy to believe this was a cocoon that had already hatched the adult, but a) it’s way too soon, and b) I’ve seen them hatch for one species at least, and that one popped little caps from the top of the cocoon. Was this one started by my naked subject up there before it got disoriented or something? I can only speculate, but I will point out the exit wound at the base of the cocoon, while that orange spot is the hornworm’s spiracle, what they breathe through.

I may hang on to this guy and see if I can capture the adults emerging this time; the endeavor really needs some kind of motion-sensing camera that can run for days and triggers the video when the action starts, and come to think of it, this might not be that hard to do (though I doubt I’m going to go to those lengths.) You’ll know if I’m successful, of course.

As for the tomatoes, we’ve just about written them off. Despite a better start than any previous year and numerous plants, they yielded almost nothing, due far more to the heat than predation, and it’s late enough now that I’m no longer bothering to water anything not showing active fruit. The peppers have just started coming ripe, and the basil did exceptionally well – there’s a couple jars of homemade pesto in the fridge now. We just have to select the stuff that can handle these conditions.

Just because, part 49

I was down at the lake the other day doing some tests, which you’ll hear more about eventually, and noticed that there appeared to have been a mass emigration from the waters recently. Along the lake edges, the sand would suddenly hop away at my approach – not all of it, mind you, just certain select and very small portions. I had the long lens affixed and was reluctant to change it out due to potentially imminent sightings of something that actually required the focal length, so at a given opportunity I used it anyway to aim down at these curiously mobile patches of sand.

 very juvenile eastern American toad Anaxyrus americanus americanus on lake edge
Unless I miss my guess, this is an American toad, only wait! There have been more taxonomical shenanigans, and it’s now more accurate to say this is an eastern American toad (Anaxyrus americanus americanus) – there are now three recognized subspecies, and naturally, one of them had to be an eastern one, because someone’s mad about that airline going defunct.

Some idea of the scale can be discerned through the size of the grains of sand – I wouldn’t say these guys were more than a few days past tadpole stage, and really, there were a lot of them. But I only did a handful of frames and have nothing else to tie it in with, postwise, so it’ll be here all alone – sand-colored toad against a sand background against a sand blog background. Hopefully you’re reading this over a sandwich…

Dactyloidae nights

After making the previous post, I went out in the evening to scope out the property, and soon had to call The Girlfriend out, since she doesn’t get the opportunity to see these guys too often. On the oak-leaf hydrangea (Hydrangea quercifolia) in the front garden, my photo subject from earlier in the day was snoozing. I haven’t seen any Carolina anoles (Anolis carolinensis) do this is a while, and now that the weather’s cooled down a bit I expected to see it even less, but so much for my predictions.

Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis snoozing on oak-leaf hydrangea Hydrangea quercifiolia
She remarked on how small the tail was, smaller in diameter than normal household string, which is the best I can give you for scale at the moment – I probably should prime the yard with hundreds of little millimeter rulers. But I did make the effort to get some light under its sheltering leaf.

Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis disturbed on oak-leaf hydrangea Hydrangea quercifiolia
During this, the anole cracked open an eye to try and determine what that bright light was, but did nothing more than that, and once I got my frames I left it in piece.

Then, out of curiosity, I checked out the other oak-leaf hydrangea, at the front of the property in The Jungle, because I had on occasion seen an anole up there, though it’s been a while. And yes, this one was out too, all the way up on the topmost flower spire of the tallest branch (which puts it at my eye level, when I’m alongside the plant and not at the bottom of the slope that it’s on.)

Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis snoozing on oak-leaf hydrangea Hydrangea quercifiolia dried flowers
Typically the anoles go a bit paler at night, so this makes them easier to spot against the darker foliage – which may not mean ‘easy,’ as this image illustrates. The hydrangeas bloom in late spring to early summer, but the dead petals can hang on all winter, and the anole was using them to maximize its altitude – it appeared to be observing the moon. This was my initial view, but we can go in closer.

Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis snoozing on oak-leaf hydrangea Hydrangea quercifiolia flowers
Your call: is the anole attempting to play that dead petal like an instrument, or mind-meld with it, or totally lost in rapture? Or perhaps just asleep in an awkward position? I still traipsed up the slope for a better perspective, which again, caused the diminutive lizard to lazily crack open an eye.

Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis eyeing author warily from oak-leaf hydrangea Hydrangea quercifiolia
Those little toes. And they are little – the head is about 5-7mm in length, so you do the math.

I found this one much later than the other, so The Girlfriend didn’t have the chance to see it (she has an unearthly early bedtime, while it’s still the same day even.) Naturally, I had to check the next night, before she went to bed this time, so she got called out again to see the anole in the exact same place, but even more curiously perched.

Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis snoozing on oak-leaf hydrangea Hydrangea quercifiolia flowers
Boy, it sure loves its dead hydrangea flowers, doesn’t it? I don’t know what to make of that, but at least it was easier for The Girlfriend to see.

And then, even as I was remarking on it, my eye fell on another, a half-meter away on the same plant atop another flower spire.

Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis snoozing on oak-leaf hydrangea Hydrangea quercifiolia flowers
It would be easily to believe I hadn’t rotated this image to vertical like the previous, but this is dead-level; the anole is sleeping like that, because why not? I’d sleep like that if I could. No – no I wouldn’t, the sinus headache would kill me.

Yet, it was pleasing to see, confirming at least that there was another juvenile anole living in the yard, though whether either of these were one of the pair that I saw together earlier (some ten meters away from this spot) is an unsolvable mystery – that Japanese maple tree is many times closer to the first anole shown here than these two, so the odds are favoring one of them being that one. You know what I mean – I’m not gonna name them for you, and couldn’t tell them apart if I did.

Of course I checked on them during the day, and one of them (Ambiguo is its name) was sunning itself on one of the hydrangea leaves, though much lower in altitude now and despite the lack of sun.

Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis perched on oak-leaf hydrangea Hydrangea quercifiolia leaf during day
Despite being right out in the open, Ambiguo was reluctant to abandon its perch even as I leaned in closer with the camera, trying to decide if the threat was worth getting up just as it got comfortable (or, perhaps more likely, trying to determine if relying on the camouflage was better than attracting attention by fleeing.) Note the color difference now, of course.

I was in and out several times today, passing right by the front garden where the first (this would be Morgan) was seen, and indeed, that anole was trying to bask on the concrete statues out there. Morgan is significantly more wary than Ambiguo and sought cover almost immediately, and I could only capture a couple of frames when it paused to assess after gaining a little cover.

Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis glaring from concrete statue
I was able to see that it switched perches between two statues routinely, every few minutes or so for unknown reasons, and it remains possible that there are two there as well, though I consider this unlikely. Morgan, however, has attracted my attention before by fleeing, when the front garden has enough cover for it to blend in easily, so there are values to both actions. And yes, one of these days I’ll attempt to stake out any of them to capture some more behavior on video – I imagine this will be tricky. I admit that I did stake out the Japanese maple one evening to see if I could capture one gaining its perch for the night, seeing absolutely nothing and never finding them snoozing on the Japanese maple again – I can’t say if those are related, but it gives an impression of how tricky this might be regardless. We’ll see.

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