I spotted my first migratory ducks on the urban shores of Elliott Bay last week. The new arrivals are on edge — wary and easy to flush. Lifting my lens is enough to send them skittering to the middle of the bay, and I can only imagine what sights and sounds have jarred them into…
Fly Away Home (and Safe) … 2013
This is my annual re-post — on the first weekend of waterfowl hunting season in both Washington (where I’m living now) and California (my home). I’ve been lightly tweaking the post each year, adding new information or links. My reason for re-posting this piece is to bring attention to some of the lesser discussed…
American Cootville – Seattle Style
I don’t see enough American Coots. That’s a comment you probably don’t hear much in regular conversation — or even from birdy people. The coot is not a bird that inspires viewing frenzies the way an owl does. I’ve heard some people call coots “trash birds” — a pejorative I never use for any animal,…
Rafts of Dreaming Birds
I stepped out of a mist and I knew I am. I am what I am. And then I thought, ‘But what have I been before?’ And then I found that I had been in a mist, not knowing to differentiate myself from things; I was just one thing among many things.” ~ Carl Jung,…
From the Primordial Soup of Lake Union: American Coots
American Coots creep out of lakes like creatures of the bog, drawing up mud with their lobed toes as they march, single file, from the water to their feeding grounds. I once watched hundreds emerge, one by one, from the low-tide flats at San Leandro Marina in California, forming a line of black baubles from…
Enter … the ‘ood Duck
One experience can change a word forever. This experience took place in Venice years ago, on a guided tour of the Doge’s Palace. Our lovely guide, who couldn’t have been more enthused about his subject matter, simply could not pronounce the letter “W.” So, we took note of the palace’s ‘ooden beams, the historic ‘ooden…
These Feet are Made for Diving
Ducks have reason to be nervous around us humans in the winter, and diving ducks are always dive-ready if danger is imminent. Sometimes, I refrain from even pointing my lens at ducks, having learned that this act alone can be a stressor for them. Almost all flying ducks will divert course, even a little, when…
Dating, Bufflehead Style
I wish I’d been closer than the far reach of my lens, struggling for focus in the thick of weather. I snapped these from the shore, capturing the distant dynamics of a Bufflehead courtship ritual. Two males were vying for the one female pictured here.
I Preen, Therefore I Am
If you know birds, you know that preening isn’t cosmetic fluff. It’s a meticulous cleaning and placement of the bird’s survival gear: feathers. Feathers need to be pristine for flight and for insulation. During oil spills, the analogy used about feathers is that a spot of oil on a bird’s plumage is like a hole…
Eagle En Route . . .
. . . it’s a Seattle thing. First alert — a look overhead and warning calls: American Wigeon first responders leave lone Eurasian Wigeon to contemplate his next move: And he’s off: Safety in numbers: The instigator comes into view: The juvenile Bald Eagle shows little interest in the ducks, catches the thermals, and whirls…
