Sometimes things just go right

Whatever the weather; rain, gumbootrain, or raingearrain; we were going to get out of the house. So we promised ourselves Monday night. "It'll be fun!" I said. So when Tuesday dawned with no rain, even a hint of sunshine, we were pleased, and maybe a bit relieved.

Still, we carried our rain capes and umbrellas, just in case; you can never trust BC weather to live up to its promises.

A weekday, a grey day sandwiched between rainy ones; nobody else would be at Reifel Island. A good day for birding. And the sightings started long before we got there, too.

Immature bald eagles in Delta farm land

These eagles looked odd to me. I thought they just might be young goldens. Something about the shape of the head, or maybe the beak, the sleekness of the feathers, the golden crown ... Here's a cropped and enlarged view:

So I spent a few hours looking them up, and finally decided that yes, they are immature bald eagles after all. The distinguishing mark is the leg; the immature golden has feathers right down to the toes.

Coming in for a landing

We stopped, as usual, at Westham Island bridge. There's an eagles' nest high in a tree just across the street, in use this year again. One eagle was standing guard, half hidden behind branches. Above him, unheeding, a flock of starlings perched, occasionally bouncing off to wheel and land again. The eagle took no notice of them.

Below the bridge, a flock of mallards and wigeons dawdled in the shallows. A coot and a grebe were diving for fish. Camouflaged against the patterns of brown mud and grasses, ...

Look at the length of those bills!

... dozens of peeps slept. A few were wading; otherwise we wouldn't have seen the flock at all.

I have almost as much trouble with these as I do with sparrows; they could be anything from yellowlegs to dowitchers.

Pretty, whatever they are.

And these, I am almost sure, are green-winged teal, judging by the couple of green heads I can see, and the vertical white bar just in front of the wing. I don't know what the dark brown duck is.

And there were mute swans!

So elegant!

I love the contrast here; the sharp blades of grass, the broken sticks, and the white softness of the swan. And that downy head!  It makes you want to touch it. (But I wouldn't dare; I want to keep my fingers.)

Curves

And going from the sublime to the spiky, a heron hiding on the bank of an irrigation ditch.

Armed and dangerous

On to Reifel! (And it still wasn't raining. Fingers crossed ...)

More tomorrow...