A Rare Find!

From afar I saw it. At first not paying much attention, for it looked like some kind of black bird but then I saw the long legs. Umm… maybe some sort of sandpiper? No, it’s not spotted or light brown but dark. And the most prominent feature was the long, down-curved bill.

Stepping closer quietly, I saw its deep maroon, multi-coloured plumage. Magnificent, maybe even magical. I haven’t seen this bird before.

Many of you might be able to ID it, but I had to do a lot of digging into Google search to discover what I’d just seen was a GLOSSY IBIS (Plegadis falcinellus). From Wikipedia, here’s the origin of the name: The scientific name derives from Ancient Greek plegados and Latin, falcis, both meaning “sickle” and referring to the distinctive shape of the bill.

And why am I so excited about seeing it? Look at this distribution map:

The glossy ibis can be found along the east coast of the United States from Maine to Texas. In the winter it lives from the Carolinas south to Florida and along the Gulf Coast to Texas. It is also found in Central America, South America, Africa, southern Eurasia and Australasia.

And where am I? In Alberta, Canada. From the map above, the second province from the west coast of Canada. Why is this glossy ibis here? A stray? Off course during migration? Or, just needs some cooler and crisper air up here?

I just couldn’t help but moved another step closer and that was it for my short discovery. It flew away but in a circle, coming right back at me, as if saying farewell, then disappeared into the distant sky:


I sure hope it will find its way back to where it belongs… But fine too, if it feels the Pond is a safe, new home, however temporal. You’re welcome to stay!

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Midsummer Colours

As I look through my photos taken in the past few weeks, I find that the prominent colours are yellow and green. We don’t have bright red birds like the cardinal, so, I’ve long settled for yellow, green and blue as my summer colours.

Two goldfinches made my day, vibrant golden yellow. They seemed not to be bothered by my presence as they were too busy with their breakfast:

well except this one with attitude:

Another sort of yellow, unintended, for I was aiming at the wren. Only when I uploaded the photo did I notice the lichen on the stump:

Sometimes, an accidental shot needs not be deleted. Why, this looks like an impressionist painting to me:

This one most symbolic, for the colours yellow and blue remind me of a war-torn country with millions of her people fleeing from their homeland. May this tiny yellow warbler, always so full of life and song, be a symbol of resilience for the ravaged country of Ukraine:

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A Summer Splash

A few days ago, I happened to catch sight of a jolly yellow warbler bathing (or playing) in the water. He plunged right into the shallow stream, splashed around, after that flew up on a branch preening, singing, then splashed right back into the water and do it all over again just for the fun of it.

I’d like to tell you it was a bright, sunny day, inviting a cooling summer splash. But I can’t because it wasn’t. The day was grey, overcast, chilly even and with a thunder storm in the forecast.

This tiny warbler’s joie de vivre defies the gloominess of the day or any imminent storm… a mighty hard lesson to learn from a three inch creature.

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Sabbath Pondering

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

–– Wendell Berry

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Spring Debutante

This year, there’s only one owlet at the Great Horned Owl household. Since the coming-out party, the family’s debutante is poised to become the star of the woods. Birding paparazzi converge and they’re not disappointed.

But first, a Where’s Waldo quiz for you. Can you spot mama and owlet on this tree:

Ok, blame it on my blurry pic. Mama’s on the top of the picture, baby at the bottom. Can’t see clearly? Here are some close-ups:

Mama is always nearby… the lower right of the photo gallery.

And this little one is a natural talent for the movie screen. Here are some photos for the audition portfolio:

CONSIDERING
DEMURE
SUSPICIOUS
Thank you… yes, this fluffy coat is very comfy… I like it too.

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Early Spring in High Park

High Park is a natural oasis in the hustle and bustle of Toronto. Almost 400 acres, it’s the largest park entirely within the city proper. The Grenadier Pond on the western boundary of the park spans 35 acres and a key resource for the teeming variety of wildlife.

Its urban setting reminds me of Central Park in NYC which is twice as large. Unlike the entirely manmade Central Park, however, High Park is the remaining sandy soil of retreated glaciers with a long natural history dating back to 12,800 years ago.

Here’s a lookout from Grenadier Pond:

Grenadier Pond in High Park, Toronto

About three weeks ago I visited High Park for the first time. It was early spring. Leaves had just started budding on trees and paths were still wet from winter, but I was able to capture some of the vibes:

Can you ID them all? I’m most curious to know what kind of tree buds are those on the upper right corner above. They look velvety and utterly exquisite.

As a birder, of course I was on the lookout for avian sightings, especially those I couldn’t find here at my own small Pond. But it was the trees that stood out for me that day. First the budding willows by the south end of Grenadier Pond:

A budding willow tree

I also came by a grove of cherry trees that were yet to bloom. And as I walked to the Nature Centre in the north side, I found this glorious oak tree. Still bare without leaves, its form was magnificent… I’ve read that the predominant oak in the savannah of High Park is the black oak. I think this is one of them. Not sure if it would look better with fully bloomed foliage. Because, right now, it looks magical:

A Black Oak in High Park

Here’s an image from the webpage The Oaks of High Park, the illustration taken from the book Who Goes to the Park by Warab´é Aska, 1984:

“Spreading Oak”

I can imagine this spreading oak being a character in an animated movie just from this picture… and I can see how versatile it can be.

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A walk in the woods in early spring

I need to specify early spring because we do have four seasons distinctly. And with each passing day, there are nuanced changes, if not the obvious. Last week we still had snow on the ground but yesterday it went up to 18C (64F), very warm for us at this time.

The Pond had melted, but for some reasons I didn’t see any ducks yesterday afternoon. A walk in the forest made up for it. The woods were teeming with life, birds chirping and Canada geese honking to mark their territory. Here are some of my sightings. Can you ID them all?

What is that in the lower right? Yes, you guessed it… a porcupine up on a tree. This is not the first time I see a ball of a porcupine high on a tree branch. A natural ‘Do Not Disturb’ notice… as if saying, ‘just let me sleep it off.’

But here’s the highlight. I was walking in the woods when a few geese flew by flapping wildly and then I saw something not exactly like a Canada goose but… an owl, a Great Horned Owl, landing on the familiar owl’s nest high up on an old tree cavity, that same spot where generations of owls had nested to breed but had been abandoned in the past few years:

The air b&b is being occupied once again! Papa Owl checking to see the home is secure for Mama and her babies. Then he noticed me, and quickly gave me a nasty stare: ‘Whatcha looking at?’


And then he flew right at me. In a split second, I decided to just stand there and watch instead of raising my camera to capture the owl in flight coming directly at me. I wouldn’t have time to frame and adjust my camera anyway. I was too stunned and didn’t want to lose the chance of seeing a Great Horned Owl heading straight at me wing spreading 4 feet wide.

So, no photo for what could have been a marvellous shot if I’d the time and the autofocus of my camera had worked fast enough. No visual to share, but the picture in my mind is indelible.

Good that Papa Owl wasn’t aggressive. He glided past me, yes, brushed past, just flew by a couple of feet beside me and then up a tree. From there he stayed on a branch to watch his home… as he always has, a loyal sentinel.

Anything can happen during a walk in the woods. This time it’s bringing me back to the very basic of seeing, just with my naked eye, and store the solitary experience in a personal vault devoid of any digital or hard copy… so, no need to declutter in the future.

***

Blackie Spit, Surrey, B.C.

Sometimes you stumble upon a place looking for something, unaware that there are so much more to explore. Last week I drove out to British Columbia, our neighbour province to the west. While in Surrey, I searched for birding spots in the area and decided on driving down to Blackie Spit by the coast.

The Spit is named after an early settler Walter Blackie. Way before Walter and his fellow Europeans arrived here, the place was called “Tsee-wahk” Point, indigenous language for “strawberry” or “elderberry”, a place rich in food. Their saying goes: “When the tide is out, my table is set.”

Blackie Spit is located where inlets from Boundary Bay flow in. Zooming out would be the Strait of Georgia:

I followed a path that put me inside a fairytale:

In such a setting, I shouldn’t have been surprised to stumble upon a Great Blue Heron but I was as I looked across a stream…

and just a few steps away along the path, another one. This time, right in front of me up on a tree:

Never have I seen a GBH so up close and personal, and not flying away even when I stepped right underneath it to take a picture. No cropping of the photo here.

As I walked further along the path, absorbing the stunning view of the outlet, I found yet another one. Three GBH in a row… I’ll call that a good birding day.

Or, was I dream walking? Can you see it too?

You found it?

Of course, there must be an abundance of food for them here, as the indigenous people had known a long time ago. I could see why when I saw this mural. I was in salmon habitat:

So, I was indeed dream walking…

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‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –

I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.

–– Emily Dickinson

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Ripple from The Chair (E6).

Peaceful Coexistence



One afternoon, in just one hour, I saw twelve different kinds of living creatures at a pond. Here they are, can you ID them all:

Top left are the Red-necked Grebes which I ‘discovered’ for the first time early this spring.

The ubiquitous mallard on the left second down, and at the bottom left, the American Coot.

The Franklin Gull on the upper right and below it, the Black Tern, which was so fast that I could hardly get a clear picture.

The red-winged blackbirds (third left down) as usual, called loudly and posed for me. The one big picture on its right is the female red-winged blackbird.

So what’s left are the bottom two… I was surprised to see a Grackle by the pond hiding behind the cattails, its head a beautiful, iridescent blue:

But the highlight of that one hour at the pond, two kinds of herons together, the Great Blue Heron and the Black-crowned Night Heron. Unfortunately I did’t have a clear pic of them both. They were hanging out and flew away together as I tried to get a few steps closer. That was the first time I saw a Black-crowned Night Heron, well, without the crown here:

The Great Blue Heron with Franklin Gulls accompanying:

And the two Herons flew away together:

Didn’t I say twelve different kinds of living creatures? There are ten in the first tiled gallery. Well there was a beaver but I wasn’t able to capture it in picture as it dived and swam away. But this one I had lots of time to get my camera ready: Human

The birds didn’t seem to mind the loud choo-choos. So, let’s give an air elbow bump, live and let live.

***

The best laid plans of birds and men

Previously on Ripple, I posted about the Ospreys and human eyeing the same spot to execute their building plans. It turned out that the triangular structure human erected at the perennial home of the Osprey’s was to discourage them from building their nest, as one reader had commented. Apparently, some bridge work is on the agenda.

Human had a Plan B for the birds: Relocation. They built another structure and moved the nest there:

Would Mr. and Mrs. O. like their new home? It’s not far from the old site, but not exactly what they’d in mind I’m sure. Coexistence sounds ideal but may not be a beautiful picture:

Here’s Mrs. O. inspecting the new home. Is it a good place for her babies to be born and safe for them to fledge?

Mrs. O. doing home inspection while an aloof Mr. O watches from a distance on the light pole.

I saw them the first couples of days at their new home, but not afterwards. The next time I visited, the nest looked abandoned. A robin seemed interested, but too big for her family:

Now workers have begun work and fenced off the area. I might not be able to follow their story. Wherever they are, I wish them a happy summer and all the best for their family.

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When human and bird collide

Spring is home construction season. The Ospreys are back and busy building their perennial home.

The Ospreys have the same address every year, that’s right on top of a highway sign. I don’t know why they like it up there above a busy highway while there are many trees close to a river nearby. No building permit required, so they are free to set up their family home and raise their young wherever they like.

This year is different. Some human have chosen that exact spot to work on something. Not sure what they’re planning for the site. A lift equipment is nearby and a little wooden triangular structure has been erected, right where the Ospreys are building their home.

So there are two different building plans on the same site, but the Ospreys are undeterred. They haul in material from nearby trees, transporting one twig at a time.

Here’s making the best of a precarious situation. When you have an unknown, triangular intrusion right by your home, might as well use it as a watch tower.

I don’t know how the story will unfold. I sure hope co-existence will be the happy ending.

***