In Focus Daily

The song of a Red-winged Blackbird is a lovely, lilting song that echoes across the marshes as the males let their presence be known both to rivals and to females. Probably not the Mother Goose “song of sixpence” about Blackbirds baked in a pie but it is a blackbird after all. I particularly liked this image because the background is far enough away from the subject that a telephoto lens creates a plain, soft, and dreamy background color that has no distractions so the subject is perfectly presented on its stage.

A Green Heron flew to a rock in the midst of floating Azolla probably because the aquatic plant had accumulated at the edges of the pond creating a thick mat which was impenetrable for seeing anything in the water. It found a small clearing where the Azolla had momentarily drifted away, giving it a clear view of what was underneath. While I watched, the Green Heron took a stab into the water, but it was an unsuccessful attempt to grab breakfast. As it resettled it feathers, it prepared to try again, keeping its eye on the prize.

The Canada Geese were in fine fettle here yesterday. Yes those golf course denizens that strut across the streets here in large flocks, daring anyone to drive past them, were creating quite a ruckus. I don’t normally bother photographing them unless they’ve got those adorable chicks. Although they are quite striking-looking birds, they are so common that I usually walk right past them. What I presume to be the males, seemingly with nothing else to do since their mates are either sitting on nests or brooding young, were warring noisily in the pond. I watched from the golf cart bridge as one pursued another, splashing across the water, bashing his beak against the rival’s side, staring the rival down, then, pushing him under the water. I’m thinking that the neck curvature indicates extreme displeasure. In the last image, the rival, just a sliver of his tail showing just behind the neck of the dominant goose, is completely submerged as the other goose appears to push him under water. No blood was drawn and no one drowned but it was a fascinating display to observe.

The thing about American Bitterns is that they hide in plain sight. They stand with their long, slender necks outstretched, their beaks pointed upward, and their bodies swaying ever so slightly to match the movement of the reeds and weeds around them. The Merlin App often records an American Bittern along the Ferrari Pond Trail and sightings by others are shared so we know where to look. Despite the color of their surroundings, they can disappear in an instant. In this image, the bottom half of its body is completely obscured by the surrounding grasses so if it dips down it quickly disappears from view. Spotting one at a distance along the trail can be tricky. There are still a few fence posts remaining in the wetlands from its previous use for cattle grazing and I am not the only one that is tricked by those posts thinking I’m seeing a Coyote, a Northern Harrier, or an American Bittern. Yesterday’s sighting was the first American Bittern for me along the trail. Hopefully, it won’t be my last.

It would be hard to find anything cuter than these three goslings, a trifecta of cuteness, if you will. There are actually seven goslings in this clutch of Canada Geese. And yesterday, as I walked along the Ferrari Pond Trail, the entire clan was scattered across the trail unconcerned about the people passing by them. I stood a ways away as the adults kept an eye on their offspring and spent more than ten minutes photographing them until the adults escorted the chicks back into the weeds and reeds and they disappeared from view. When I returned about an hour later, they were back on the trail and when Mother Goose (!) settled down on the edge of the trail, all seven goslings scooted under her protective breast feathers.

A Snowy Egret, sporting what Sibley Birds describes as “courtship color” (the reddish lores between the beak and the eyes) looks to retrieve a crayfish it had struggled to get under control but ultimately dropped into the shallow waters of the Salt Pond. The Salt Pond is beginning to fill with Azolla, the invasive pond flora that can double its coverage in days, which makes it more difficult for the birds, like this Snowy Egret that rely on their vision, to spot and retrieve prey. Instead of courting a mate, it is courting a loss. But, Snowy Egrets are very efficient hunters so no doubt it soon found another morsel to consume.

Killdeer nest on the ground. I don’t know if there is a nest near where this Killdeer stands in the midst of the Broadleaf Filaree (AKA Stork’s Bill) and Rose Clover but as we approached on the trail yesterday morning, s/he began to call out. We were probably 30 feet away on the pavement and when s/he finally flew off, still calling, I didn’t see anything that resembled an egg. However, I have seen a Killdeer in this exact spot often but always standing, never sitting on a nest. I guess time will tell.

The other day, a few of the regular walkers were discussing the fate of this rotting tree that sets in the middle of Ferrari Pond and provides a welcome perch for Great Egrets, Double-crested Cormorants, and of course, Great Blue Herons like this one. The talk was about how much longer the tree will stay upright providing a perch. At some point in the past several years, the once erect tree leaned over to an almost horizontal position, supported by a branch under the water. Its weathered and cracked bark gives it character and the lichen and moss that cover much of it add bright colors to its otherwise gray exterior. It is a perfect perch for the large wading birds that use it as a resting and preening stop. I’m hoping it will stay there for a long time.

The Red-winged Blackbirds continue to vie for mates, with the males facing off on perches in the reeds or atop sticks, their melodious warbles echoing across the fields. They’re far enough apart that with my long lens I can’t capture both at the same time but I shot each one as they faced off with their opponent.

Twenty seconds. That was it. Twenty seconds after waiting 3 hours for Union Pacific Engine 4014 to come into clear view, whoosh past me, and disappear toward its next stop. It is known as the Big Boy because it is the world’s largest, heaviest, and most powerful reciprocating steam locomotive ever built, measuring 133 feet long and weighing 1.2 million pounds. The Big Boy is making a tour across the United States of America to celebrate our nation’s semiquincentennial (gotta love that word!). In my head I had visions of the photographs my friend Marion Pavan took of the Big Boy when it came here on its Westward Bound Tour in 2024. Click here to enjoy his incredible photographs of the Big Boy and read the article he wrote that was published in the Sun City Roseville Magazine. Unlike Marion, I failed to plan, deciding at the last minute to jump in my car and find a good place to shoot. But, I had a great time, I kept the requisite 25 foot distance from the tracks thanks to my Nikon Z70-200 f/2.8 II which gives the distance to subject when manually focusing, and I got some really fun “I was here” shots.

The other morning, a Green Heron lurked on the rocks across Angler’s Cove as I walked by, headed back to my car. A trait that herons share is their patience and ability to stand absolutely still as they wait for prey to pass in the water beneath them, so that is what makes it relatively simple to capture them waiting. The water was about a foot from this Green Heron but herons are so fast, the distance doesn’t seem to matter that much. And, that speed is what also makes it so hard to capture the moment they go for their prey. I was happy to get this bird seconds before it stabbed into the water and flew off.

When I looked up at the Moon the other morning, I realized that Artemis II had just returned from the dark side and was beginning its return journey back to Earth. I like to think that somewhere in this photograph, the Artemis is heading toward me. Artemis will splash down off the California coast this afternoon. I think it is exciting that we are finally returning to the Moon after more than fifty years. The Space Race was such an important part of everyone’s lives in the late 1950’s and throughout the 1960’s with milestones achieved by both the USA and the USSR making household names of astronauts and cosmonauts. Now, after a lengthy hiatus, we are back in the quest for the Moon. The Artemis Astronauts suggested a name for one of the previously unnamed craters, with Canadian Astronaut and mission specialist Jeremy Hansen saying, “It’s a bright spot on the moon … and we would like to call it Carroll,” in honor of the late wife of NASA astronaut Reid Wiseman, commander of the Artemis II mission. I like the idea of having a crater named Carroll.

Most mornings along the Ferrari Pond Trail, I can hear the Marsh Wrens calling. But they are small and they can easily conceal themselves deep in the cattails and reeds. The other morning, this little one was vocalizing right at the edge of the trail and it was surprisingly visible although sometimes a reed covered its face. I thought the cattail seedling that is stuck to its head was quite charming.

There has been excitement and anticipation by the regulars at the Salt Pond this week because we have finally seen a pair of American Avocets there. Last year, the pair (could it be the same pair?) had an exposed nest that was destroyed before they produced a brood. Yesterday morning, three of us witnessed the pair mating. Until then, we’d only seen them separately on the pond and weren’t even sure there was a male and a female. The funny thing is that the female was ready and waiting patiently for the male to do something. She was standing still with her head down while the male seemed clueless at first, standing near her but not doing anything. He finally waded around her and in the first image, seems to be expressing some interest. Then, in the second image, he mounted her and finally, they strolled away, heads together. Ahhh. Avocet amore.

In a couple weeks, I’m heading to Ecuador to photograph hummingbirds. There are at least 132 species of hummingbirds there. I’m looking forward to photographing lots of new species there. In the mean time, I’m practicing. On Easter morning, I went to my friend Truman’s home hoping to photograph Anna’s, Black-chinned, Calliope, and Rufous Hummingbirds, all species he’s spotted at his backyard feeders in the past couple of days. Neither the Black-chinned nor the Calliope showed up while I was there but lots of Anna’s and this male and a female Rufous were there so I was happy. I had a chance to make sure my hummingbird rig was ready for the trip to Ecuador and that everything was working as expected. It does take practice, after all.

A Say’s Phoebe fluffs its feathers in the early morning chill. This Phoebe seems to like the rotting, moss-covered fence post near the Salt Pond as a lookout for flies. I see it there most mornings. I’m assuming it’s the same bird. We seem to have lots of regulars of different species that hang out near the Salt Pond.

Yesterday morning there were more than a dozen adult California Quail on the Ferrari Pond Trail. They were feeding along the edges of the trail, and as I approached, they didn’t fly off but rather moved further down the trail, nibbling as they went. I finally got too close for their comfort and they flew off into the brambles. On my way back, when they were no longer backlit, I captured this male taking one last bite before he flew off.

What’s in a name? This is a California wildflower that is commonly known as Blue Dick. Enough said. It’s also called Wild Hyacinth. I took this the other morning on an outing of the Lincoln Hills Photo Club’s Nikon Users Group to nearby Coyote Pond Park.

A female Snail Kite glides low over Florida’s Lake Kissemmee looking for a perch on which to land and devour the Apple Snail she had just snatched from the shallow water. She’s clutching the snail in one of her talons, hidden by the right wing as she banks to a landing.

The other day I posted a photograph of a male Cinnamon Teal swimming in the Salt Pond surrounded with ripples of water that reflected the colors of the sky and the reeds and grasses nearby, making it look like it was swimming in a psychedelic pool. A pair of Cinnamon Teal has moved to a smaller shallow pond presumably to make a nest and I photographed the male resting in the non-psychedelic pool.