Little browns and a redwing blackbird waiting their turn at the feeder
Coot, not stepping on his own feet
Question: Why do great blue herons so often look so downright miserable?
Not a bird
A couple of families of sandhill cranes had taken over one of the low islets in the outer ponds. We counted four adults, or maybe five, and seven youngsters. The adults had no interest in humans at the moment, but several of the kids were curious, and waded over to check us out.
We were on a steep bank, and two of the cranes, arriving at a rough patch of logs and weeds, stayed in the water, watching us through the shrubbery. Another two found a bit of a trail through the blackberry canes, and climbed up, hoping for free munchies. They ended up eating most of the remainder of my seed.
Thanks! Those were delicious!
Water and sky. Microdot birds.
By the exit, one of the black crowned night herons was sitting in full view. A juvenile hid in the branches over the slough; his mottled coat blended in almost perfectly with the mixed greys of the bark and lichens.
One-legged, black-crowned, red-eyed, adult night heron.
A photographer had set up his digiscope equipment just a few metres away from the young heron; great whopper of a scope, tall tripod, camera, bag of accessories ... He was fussing around, adjusting the focus, removing and replacing the camera, making more adjustments. He was probably going to be able to get a photo of the heron's eyelashes. I confess to a bit of envy.
But it was raining now; we took our couple of quick, iffy photos and put away the cameras before they got wet. As we left, I looked back; the photographer was busy drying his camera with a rag. The spotting scope was still standing in the rain. Maybe I wasn't so envious, after all. We got into the dry car, turned on the windshield wipers and went home.