61
Ontario Birds / Re: June 10th
« Last post by Dr. John on June 12, 2025, 10:25:21 AM »I like the detail of just one tail piece of the fish left in the osprey's talons.
Recent Posts
62
Ontario Birds / June 10th
« Last post by Shortsighted on June 11, 2025, 11:14:35 AM »I visited Cranberry marsh early yesterday morning in hopes of finding the Willet previously reported but I couldn't find it anywhere, although I now realize that there is one spot that I failed to investigate because I'm not too swift at that early hour. There were Canada geese but little else. I called out "Willet!" in my best impression of Marlon Brando in On the Waterfront because I didn't really expect the bird to respond to "Stella!" All to no avail ... so, I moved on.
Snapping turtle
Eastern Kingbird
Savannah sparrow
Bob O. Link
Snipe
Yellow warbler
Osprey
Two tails
Snapping turtle
Eastern Kingbird
Savannah sparrow
Bob O. Link
Snipe
Yellow warbler
Osprey
Two tails
63
Backyard Birding / Merlin calling = no songbirds, @ the beach
« Last post by Napper on June 09, 2025, 07:05:03 PM »A Merlin was calling/screaming this afternoon. I did not see many birds here all day
The GCFC visits our little garden every day including today, dunno whats up with that. It does not like the camera.
Napper
The GCFC visits our little garden every day including today, dunno whats up with that. It does not like the camera.
Napper
64
Ontario Birds / Boda fide Fence Sitter
« Last post by Shortsighted on June 09, 2025, 12:47:27 PM » Alongside a gravel road hell bent on seduction, there tracked a post & wire fence that was as dedicated to its task as a chaperone. It coursed true-parallel, in genuine fashion, as if providing steadfast supervision. On this fence there be a few swallows from time to time, merely resting or summarily passing judgment on one so easily seduced. It is hard to say. I could have taken offence for the latter but I wasn’t actually on the fence, merely standing close to the fence among an exploitable cluster of dense shrubs and underachieving trees, ostensibly in hiding as part of a stake-out of sorts with camera in hand, at 7:30 in the morning, just waiting for those tiny swallows, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. Those swallows, I’ll show them!
I couldn’t see but a small section of the post & wire fence as a consequence of the shubbery. After a short interval of impatience I heard a “loud” bird call that was darn close, a call that was somehow familiar yet mysterious. The repeated calls were piercingly strident, like calls for help and surely seemed to be coming from behind the adjacent bush that had been mute since my arrival, offering not even a murmur. I thoroughly dismissed the notion that the shubbery was being exclamatory. I’m not a comprehensive fool, you know.
I was afraid to move lest I spook whatever it was that was spooking me. The situation was ridiculous. I couldn’t endure the suspense any longer. I therefore silently drifted around the bush, much like an unmoored boat propelled by a lazy ebb tide until I could finally realize a better view of this mysterious bird because the calling continued uninterrupted during my covert translation. As if emerging from a chaos of verdure I saw what it was ... of course, now I remember the owner of the calls ... it was a lone snipe nursing a gripe and it was perched on a fence post because the wire was rusty and also nasty in a myriad of other ways. So, from one old post to this post, I offer you one of Wilson’s finest snipes ... a bona fide fence sitter.
Now who's the king of birds!
I couldn’t see but a small section of the post & wire fence as a consequence of the shubbery. After a short interval of impatience I heard a “loud” bird call that was darn close, a call that was somehow familiar yet mysterious. The repeated calls were piercingly strident, like calls for help and surely seemed to be coming from behind the adjacent bush that had been mute since my arrival, offering not even a murmur. I thoroughly dismissed the notion that the shubbery was being exclamatory. I’m not a comprehensive fool, you know.
I was afraid to move lest I spook whatever it was that was spooking me. The situation was ridiculous. I couldn’t endure the suspense any longer. I therefore silently drifted around the bush, much like an unmoored boat propelled by a lazy ebb tide until I could finally realize a better view of this mysterious bird because the calling continued uninterrupted during my covert translation. As if emerging from a chaos of verdure I saw what it was ... of course, now I remember the owner of the calls ... it was a lone snipe nursing a gripe and it was perched on a fence post because the wire was rusty and also nasty in a myriad of other ways. So, from one old post to this post, I offer you one of Wilson’s finest snipes ... a bona fide fence sitter.
Now who's the king of birds!
65
Ontario Birds / The king of birds?
« Last post by Shortsighted on June 08, 2025, 12:30:21 PM » Homer said that too many kings can ruin an army, but he said it in Greek and he was probably drunk at the time. Now, having too many kingbirds isn’t a genuine occurrence because they are aggressively territorial and value the meaning of hegemony. Show me a picture of a large flock of kingbirds and I’ll show you someone that really knows how to use photoshop.
I have always had a thing for flycatchers but I’m taking meds for that condition. While most people think of Trail’s flycatchers, or imagine the Great crested character, the fact remains that a kingbird is still a flycatcher and therefore I’m keen to photograph one when given the chance. They are not always tolerant of intruders and seldom suffer fools, so I have my work cut out for me. A kingbird on its throne must be approached with deference. I look away, or look downward, or pick a weed, with my head bowed, showing both deference and indifference while deciding whether that is an oxymoron. Before I know it, I’m right up next to a kingbird still perched and mildly stunned by my appreciation of syntax. That’s when I slowly raise my head, lift my lens and shoot. This one still didn’t fly away. It seems that anointing the fence wire with Crazy Glue really does work.
I have always had a thing for flycatchers but I’m taking meds for that condition. While most people think of Trail’s flycatchers, or imagine the Great crested character, the fact remains that a kingbird is still a flycatcher and therefore I’m keen to photograph one when given the chance. They are not always tolerant of intruders and seldom suffer fools, so I have my work cut out for me. A kingbird on its throne must be approached with deference. I look away, or look downward, or pick a weed, with my head bowed, showing both deference and indifference while deciding whether that is an oxymoron. Before I know it, I’m right up next to a kingbird still perched and mildly stunned by my appreciation of syntax. That’s when I slowly raise my head, lift my lens and shoot. This one still didn’t fly away. It seems that anointing the fence wire with Crazy Glue really does work.
67
Ontario Birds / WREN
« Last post by Shortsighted on June 08, 2025, 08:10:25 AM » When is a late spring tiny wren not a Sedge wren? That only happens when it is a Marsh wren. The two species look very similar but work in a different habitat, although both habitats can be in close proximity. A Sedge wren has a thicker mandible and a speckled shoulder and a striped crown, while a Marsh wren has a dark shoulder and solid brown crown. They also have different calls but let’s not get too definitive. Both wrens are shy. They are most often hidden within grass, reeds, or a shrub.
Their call is loud and makes the wren seem closer than it actually is. I watched a Marsh wren return to the same stunted shrub again and again. Not only the same shrub, but the same spot within that annoyingly dense shrub. It’s murder to focus on a small bird in a dense shrub, or is it ... a dense bird in a small shrub?
Either way, it wrangles when the wren keeps returning to the same spot, never exposing itself like an uninhibited pervert. It somehow mysteriously seems to know that its behaviour drives me nuts. I even put on tele-converters onto my lens, thus losing sight of the lens hood because I’m shortsighted. I thought that I could manually focus onto that tiny wren’s head. It worked, but it’s not much of a shot. I removed my tele-converters to everyone’s relief because birders don’t like it when you make a spectacle of yourself.
Fortunately, other Marsh wrens came to the rescue and popped out of the wet grass to take a look. They also kept on calling, repetitively, over and over again. I’m glad that I didn’t know what they were saying. Probably pointing out my tautology.
Marsh wren @ 600mm
Hidden Marsh wren @ 1200mm
Sympathetic wren revealing itself
I think that this is my best side
Their call is loud and makes the wren seem closer than it actually is. I watched a Marsh wren return to the same stunted shrub again and again. Not only the same shrub, but the same spot within that annoyingly dense shrub. It’s murder to focus on a small bird in a dense shrub, or is it ... a dense bird in a small shrub?
Either way, it wrangles when the wren keeps returning to the same spot, never exposing itself like an uninhibited pervert. It somehow mysteriously seems to know that its behaviour drives me nuts. I even put on tele-converters onto my lens, thus losing sight of the lens hood because I’m shortsighted. I thought that I could manually focus onto that tiny wren’s head. It worked, but it’s not much of a shot. I removed my tele-converters to everyone’s relief because birders don’t like it when you make a spectacle of yourself.
Fortunately, other Marsh wrens came to the rescue and popped out of the wet grass to take a look. They also kept on calling, repetitively, over and over again. I’m glad that I didn’t know what they were saying. Probably pointing out my tautology.
Marsh wren @ 600mm
Hidden Marsh wren @ 1200mm
Sympathetic wren revealing itself
I think that this is my best side
68
Ontario Birds / The Ospreys
« Last post by Shortsighted on June 07, 2025, 07:20:45 AM »Ah, ... listen ... I swear, ... it's not what it looks like.
69
Backyard Birding / Birding from the deck/driveway @ the beach Red Bellied.
« Last post by Napper on June 06, 2025, 07:13:00 PM »Technically we were on the deck when my wife said to me there is something making a banging noise right there.
I realized it was a Red Bellied and cautiously went for the camera knowing it was far too dark.I am using my vehicle as a brace. The tree is a Catalpa. Narrow laneway in front of house.
Grabbed a couple of shots.
Napper18:30 hrs ish
I realized it was a Red Bellied and cautiously went for the camera knowing it was far too dark.I am using my vehicle as a brace. The tree is a Catalpa. Narrow laneway in front of house.
Grabbed a couple of shots.
Napper18:30 hrs ish
70
Ontario Birds / Bluebirds
« Last post by Shortsighted on June 06, 2025, 05:31:23 PM » Even Cowgirls get the Blues. That is the title of a book from 1976, written by Tom Robbins. It was also made into a film, directed by Gus Van Sant and starring Uma Thurman. I can still feel the book in my hands from almost 50 years ago. I categorically deny feeling Uma Thurman in my hands. Is that even possible with muscle memory. Surely, those muscles have long since atrophied. I’ve looked in the mirror with a wince and I can’t seem to find any muscle. Muscle memory is a strange phenomenon. Even those afflicted with Parkinson’s disease and therefore have trouble walking may have less difficulty riding a bike due to muscle memory.
Anyway, in celebration of contrived segues, I wonder if bluebirds ever get the blues? Yes, quite right, it is a stupid question. I’ve always had a thing for bluebirds and stupid questions. A dearth of one and an over-abundance of the other. It must be the colour blue, painted on a bird, because a blue sky, while very nice indeed, doesn’t quite enchant. Blue butterflies are also a special treat and seldom seen. Then there are blue beetles, blue flowers, Blue Meanies, whatever they are ... mushrooms I think. It took years before I saw my first bluebird and that sad history made me blue. I wore out my Miles Davis album during that interval. Now, I get to see a bluebird, or two, most every year, since I’ve divined where to look. The female and male (below) are best photographed during overcast weather with diffused light. All the rest of the bluebirds are probably fine in Full Sun. I’ve been reading too many plant tabs at my local gardener. A sort of ocular – psycho – conditioning, I guess.
Anyway, in celebration of contrived segues, I wonder if bluebirds ever get the blues? Yes, quite right, it is a stupid question. I’ve always had a thing for bluebirds and stupid questions. A dearth of one and an over-abundance of the other. It must be the colour blue, painted on a bird, because a blue sky, while very nice indeed, doesn’t quite enchant. Blue butterflies are also a special treat and seldom seen. Then there are blue beetles, blue flowers, Blue Meanies, whatever they are ... mushrooms I think. It took years before I saw my first bluebird and that sad history made me blue. I wore out my Miles Davis album during that interval. Now, I get to see a bluebird, or two, most every year, since I’ve divined where to look. The female and male (below) are best photographed during overcast weather with diffused light. All the rest of the bluebirds are probably fine in Full Sun. I’ve been reading too many plant tabs at my local gardener. A sort of ocular – psycho – conditioning, I guess.