Sax-Zim Bog in the winter is home to lots of bird species, including the Black-capped Chickadee. The Friends of Sax-Zim Bog call the area the Arctic Riviera. I’m certain about the “Arctic” part, suspicious of the “Riviera” part but after experiencing minus 31 degrees there and a couple hours later actually feeling warmer when the tempertures rose to minus 17 degrees, maybe there’s something to that declaration. Many of the locals embrace the goal of the Friends of Sax-Zim Bog to protect the area for future generations of birds & birders. They put out feeders throughout the area, some at their homes. Others, like Loretta’s Feeders, are placed in a field along a pathway that disppears into the woods. Most of the birds we saw at Loretta’s Feeders were birds like Black-capped Chickadees, Red-Breasted Nuthatches, and Hairy and Downy Woodpeckers. The Chickadees move fast. It was a challenge to capture them on camera.
We went to Sax-Zim Bog in Minnesota to see owls. And, we saw owls—four new species of owl for me. During the first three days, we saw the Barred Owl and the Northern Hawk Owl a couple of times each and had time to photograph them. We saw a single Snowy Owl perched atop a distant hummock, too far away to photograph. But, the small Boreal Owl, which we knew had been sighted, eluded us until Friday morning when we stopped on the way to the Duluth Airport. We spent more than an hour and a half photographing the small, ten inch owl which was content to sit on a small branch overlooking a feeding station that drew other birds and rodents, potential meals for it. A Blue Jay screamed at it from a higher branch but most of the small birds and squirrels that visited the feeding station went about their business and ignored the owl.
The day started at minus 31 degrees. That is a mind-numbing temperature as well as finger-numbing, hand-numbing, whole-body numbing and as the thermometer dropped, we were at Winterberry Bog, part of the Sax-Zim Bog complex hoping to see the Barred Owl we’d photographed the day before. The Barred Owl did not make an appearance but I did get out of the vehicle and walked around so that I could experience that lung-freezing cold. It hurt to inhale! I didn’t expect to ever top last year’s minus 16 degrees in Dubois, Wyoming but the past couple of days at Sax-Zim Bog in Minnesota have much been colder than that. We stuck to our plan to search for other owls in the bog and an hour or so later, we saw the Northern Hawk Owl perched high atop a pine tree near a farm off Arkola Road. By this time, the outside temperature had risen to -17° and I managed to tolerate the sub-zero temperatures for about an hour before I had to retreat to the vehicle to get my beaver mittens. By 1PM, the temperature had risen to about 10° and by comparison with the earlier temperatures we were fairly comfortable. And, as if to reward our stamina, the Northern Hawk Owl had flown to a wire on the edge of the road and we were able to get much closer to photograph it.
This Barred Owl from Sax-Zim Bog in Northern Minnesota was a cooperative subject. I presume because it was the middle of the day and that’s when these diurnal creatures usually sleep, the owl was content to perch on the side of the road on a broken snag in an Aspen not bothered by the handful of birders and photographers gaping up at it. It dozed, it eyed the snow covered area beneath it for a potential meal, it stared directly into my lens. And, although we hoped it would grace us with its presence for as long as we wanted, it suddenly flew into the canopy of trees behind it and disappeared.
Sax-Zim Bog near Lake Superior in Minnesota is my second photography adventure in two weeks in search of owls. Sax-Zim Bog is a 300 square mile habitat and nature preserve that includes bogs and lakes and meadows and farmland. It is maintained by volunteers and friends of the bog who graciously host feeders and habitat at their homes and on their land so that the many species of boreal and other birds continue to thrive here. It is a labor of love. The snow is several feet deep off the roads and the temperatures hover in the low single digits dropping into the sub-zero range at night and when the wind whips up. Four species of owl live in the bog including the Great Gray Owl, the Boreal Owl, the Snowy Owl, and the Barred Owl. Our first day here has been spectacular. Not only have we seen lots of birds I’ve not seen before, we found two of the four kinds of owls we’re seeking. We were not close enough to the Snowy Owl to photograph it although I couldn’t resist grabbing an iPhone shot of the snowy field in which is perched. The Barred Owl was a special treat see, very cooperative, and very close. The barred pattern of its feathers perfectly matches the pattern of the aspen bark on the tree in which it sits.
On a trip to Corpus Christi, Texas in November 2016 with Moose Peterson we spent time standing on jetties with our tripods and long lenses photographing shore birds on the jagged rocks. Late one afternoon on South Padre Island I watched as a lone willet explored rocks near the jetty as the sun was sinking low in the sky.
A couple of years ago in Churchill, Canada, a Willow Ptarmigan peeks out from behind a spruce in search of a female Willow Ptarmigan. It was June and he was in his courtship plumage.
This Northern Mockingbird, the state bird of Texas where I took this shot, doesn’t look much like a Mockingbird. It had just finished bathing in the intense heat of late spring in South Texas and it had flown to a branch to fluff its feathers and dry off a bit. It is more like a caricature than a bird. Its feathers look more like a fur cape with a stand-up collar than feathers. It is looking at me disdainfully. It is almost a mockery of a mockingbird.
Capturing a different look of an iconic view can be a challenge. This is Gibbon Falls in Yellowstone National Park. To get this look, I closed down the lens and set the camera to its lowest ISO to get a slow shutter speed. I used a long lens, the Nikkor 80-400mm lens so I could focus just on the water and exclude any of the shore. The resulting streakiness of the flowing water reminds me of a horse’s mane.
The Spanish word for Gannet is Alcatraz. Although there are no Gannets on the west coast of the United States, an island in San Francisco Bay was named Alcatraces (plural of Alcatraz) by Spanish Explorer Juan Manual de Ayala in 1775 probably because he mistook Pelicans on the island for Gannets. Years after its misnomer, the now shuttered infamous federal prison known as Alcatraz, once home to the likes of Al Capone and Machine Gun Kelly, was established on the island. Thousands of miles away from Alcatraz Island, on cliffs overlooking the Atlantic Ocean in Cape St. Mary’s, New Foundland Northern Gannets flourish in their nesting communities. Tens of thousands of the large birds congregate during the few months of the nesting season before returning to their life at sea. The birds have to look closely to figure out where their nest site and mate are on the crowded rock.