Boolie

Death of a Salamander

While I normally like to arrive before sunrise, I got a late start to my visit to the refuge in late February, as I was tired and decided to sleep in, arriving after noon. There was a great egret at the edge of Horse Lake, right at the start of the auto tour, so I pulled over and set up to take portraits since it wasn’t on the hunt.

Or so I thought.

Unfortunately my camera wasn’t set up for action as the egret suddenly struck into the water and brought up this northwestern salamander. I’ve rarely seen these lovely salamanders, and only when they’re being eaten, as the terrestrial form (adults can be aquatic or terrestrial) is usually below ground. During breeding season they move to the water to breed, and I believe late February is prime mating season for these salamanders at sea level, so hopefully it had a chance to pass on its genes before the egret caught it. I’ve never seen one this large, I was rather taken aback when I saw what it was.

When i first saw the white spots running from the head of the salamander down to its tail, I assumed it was part of its coloration and was confused when I later read that this is not the case. I couldn’t see that it could be any other species, but then I read that the white spots are poison that the salamander releases as a defense mechanism.

I don’t know if it explains something I found a little odd, as when the egret first caught the salamander it brought it out of the water and tossed it several yards away into the grass. It seemed rather upset and agitated with the salamander, perhaps I thought because the salamander’s long tail kept thrashing back towards the egret’s eyes, and I thought to myself, “Well, you are trying to eat it!”, but perhaps it was upset because it got a taste of the poison.

The egret grabbed and tossed the salamander multiple times, I was surprised at how long the little thing put up a fight. The egret’s first strike had opened a hole in the salamander’s side and some of its internal organs had come out, so it was going to die even if it managed to get away, so I wished I could tell it to just give up and its agony would end. Eventually it did stop fighting as much and the egret gave it a good dunking in the water, after which the salamander’s body went limp and its legs hung to its sides. The egret swallowed it in one fell swoop. I wonder now, although probably much too large to be killed by the poison, if it made the egret sick, and perhaps it might give the next salamander a pass.

After I got over the thrill of seeing this magnificent little creature and the shock of watching it die, I reflected on how amazing it is that, just feet from where I have spent many, many hours sitting and watching and listening at this pond, an entire world exists under the water that I have little knowledge of and no way to observe. I would have never known this magnificent salamander was there if not for the egret (this wider view of Horse Lake shows the egret not long before it caught the salamander, just over to its left).

Above the water I can watch and learn, but the things below I see only when they are brought out from the water and into the air, usually as they die. That makes me a little sad, but this encounter did encourage me to learn about the salamanders as I knew nothing about them before, apart from the name. Their numbers declined by one that day, but the northwestern salamander population in general is doing well in its range on the western edge of North America, from northern California up through British Columbia.

Maybe one day we’ll meet on friendlier terms. In the meantime it makes me happy knowing they are there, even if I can’t see them.

It also made me happy to see that, a while back, one of my pictures was used for the good of salamanders, as the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service used my favorite rough-skinned newt picture on their Facebook page to announce some steps they are taking to protect our salamanders from a fungus that is killing them elsewhere. I like how Flickr displays the usage rights I set for my pictures, as I set most of them so they can be used for non-commercial purposes, a long-standing tradition dating back to when I first started putting my pictures online back in the mid-90’s.

Is That It?

My wife and I wanted to see the new Star Wars movie so a couple of days after Christmas we drove up to a neighborhood movie theater. When we came out a good bit of snow was coming down, a rarity for this area, but I knew it wasn’t supposed to last long. And it didn’t, slowing down even during the short drive home.

I took Ellie to the dog park as soon as we got home, both because she loves the snow and because it reminds me of the day we decided to adopt a dog and later found the perfect one. Sadly though the snow had all but stopped and it was too warm and wet for it to stick to the ground. I couldn’t resist a picture of her looking up at me with a light dusting of snow on her back as she stood in the muddy dog park.

But she wasn’t lamenting the lack of snow but rather watching me to see when I would start running, as her favorite game is to run beside me and match my every move. This field used to be grass and clay which turned into a soupy mess the entire winter. Ellie would dance around, giving me her famous chop chop, encouraging me to run. I could never convince her that only one of us was built to run in that slop. But now that there is sand in the main part of the dog park, it not only drains much faster but also compacts nicely under your feet, so while you may get a bit dirty when it’s soaking wet you’ll maintain good footing while you run. My thanks to the parks department for that, it’s made a big difference in our winter walks.

📷: Canon 7D II | Sigma 17-50mm f/2.8
🗓️: December 27, 2015

A Christmas Miracle

Perhaps miracle is a bit strong, but I was delighted to find this short-eared owl on Christmas along Ridgefield’s auto tour, it had been almost a decade since I had last seen one. I didn’t have much time for pictures as there was a car approaching from behind and I wanted them to see the owl too. Since I already had my big telephoto mounted I took some quick head-and-shoulders shots. I was shooting out of my car’s window, so to get a slightly different look from the top picture I lowered the window to get more of the distant trees as a green background to go along with the brown grasses around Rest Lake. I then moved on and in my rear-view mirror I saw the folks behind me got a nice look too.

A Hard Rain’s a-Gonna Fall

I was sitting next to Bull Lake for a while, watching a male bufflehead diving for food and photographing him whenever he swam close. I’ve been wanting to take more environmental portraits so when he moved a ways off I turned my lens to this distant ring-necked duck as the rain moved in. I was happy enough with the early pics but then the rain turned heavy and pounded the water in large drops. Ducks are built for the wet of course but even so I felt a bit sorry for him as the water exploded around him. The hard rain lasted only seconds, then he and the other ducks resumed their feeding.

If you’d like a closer view of what a ring-necked duck looks like, I took this picture almost a year earlier just one lake over. It was also raining, but only lightly.

Thanksgiving

We had a sunny day on the weekend after Thanksgiving so I brought my camera along on Ellie’s morning walk to take some pictures in Irving Park. I had in previous weeks hoped to take some fall pictures with her but the groundskeepers had been too efficient at removing the fallen leaves (not to mention Ellie’s beloved acorns). I noticed a clump of leaves under the canopy of this old tree so I took Ellie’s leash off and made her pose for me.

I’m extremely thankful for this sweet pup who has blessed our lives for seven years, and also for this nice little park just a few blocks from our house where we can walk her (the dog park is a little ways over to the left). And I’m thankful too for people many decades ago who decided not to chop down some of the old trees in the park, I never get tired of seeing them on our walks.

I’m not tired. What makes you think I’m tired?

Oh, I don’t know Sam, let’s call it a hunch.

It had been a long day for Sam, he spent the day at the vet getting his teeth cleaned and a tooth removed. We kept him in isolation for the night since he had to be fed in stages and we wanted to keep an eye on him and make sure he didn’t throw up. It wasn’t easy at first as he made several (successful) escape attempts, but I finally got him settled in and he snuggled up in my lap and started purring loudly.

A while later to my great surprise Trixie came sauntering out from under the bed so I had to put her outside the room without letting Sam out. After he finished his food I let Ellie in as she had been patiently waiting on the other side of the door (patiently waiting apart from the occasional loud sigh or tapping of toes) and then Sam and Ellie both took a nap.

He earned his freedom and at the moment is curled up in his usual spot on my legs.

In Memory of Harper Lee

My wife texted me at work this morning to let me know Harper Lee died. I had mixed feelings, given her reported health it seemed like it was her time, but I was still sad at the loss of someone who gave me something so beautiful. Her novel To Kill a Mockingbird is my favorite book, and my wife loves it too, so when we adopted a little black-and-white kitten in 2001 we decided to keep with the literary names that started with our cat Templeton and named our new kitten after the wonderful Scout Finch. An amazing bond formed between my beloved Scout and I for the next twelve years until cancer took her life. We then adopted another black-and-white kitten, a terrified little thing who shook with fear when we met him, and named him after another character from the book, Boo Radley (this is Boo perched on top of my bookcase).

When we adopted a kitten last year after Emma died, while casting about for a name we considered naming her Finch, both as a nod to the Finches in Mockingbird and to my love of birds, before settling on Trixie. Hopefully we won’t need to name a new pet for a long time to come.

Goodbye Harper, and thank you.

Almost Bald

A bald eagle soars above Rest Lake on a cold winter morning. Next winter it should have the full white head from which the bald eagle’s name is derived, and I suspect it will attract much more attention from the resident adults as well. For now, though, its competition seemed to be the other young eagles on the refuge.

The Submerged Crosstrek

I spent the second-to-last day of my Christmas break at Ridgefield, arriving before sunrise and leaving after sunset. The bald eagles had been pretty active and the sunny day brought out many visitors to admire them, so late in the afternoon I parked a ways away so I could watch the day end in a more peaceful and relaxed state. When I saw the setting sun cast a shadow of my little Subaru on a frozen Rest Lake, I couldn’t resist a self-portrait as an homage to a picture I had taken almost exactly a year earlier (but around the bend and at sunrise instead of sunset).

But it was even more of a nod to the recurring nightmare I used to have, of me visiting Ridgefield and driving my car into the lake, as the angle of the sun made the the car look like it was submerged. Thankfully I haven’t had the dream in a while so I was in a rather whimsical mood when I took the picture.

The white birds on the distant part of the lake are tundra swans, most are sitting on the ice, but there was a small section of open water where a large number of ducks and geese had concentrated. This is also one of the last places I photographed coyotes (these pictures from January 2012 were taken near this spot).

Submerged also describes how I’ve felt most of the past couple of months, as a hectic work schedule had me working many nights and weekends. Thankfully things are returning to normal as the stress had worn me down, but I was able to not work for our three day holiday weekend and spent the days drifting in and out of sleep as my body and mind began to recover.

World Peace & Hamburgers

I smiled when I saw this tag on the Wishing Tree, a wish first for something both altruistic and impossible, followed by one both pragmatic and easily attainable.