Scratcher of heads, rubber of bellies
While watching this sunbathing turtle, the way its rear feet and tail were stuck into the water reminded me of an anchored boat. In truth I don’t know if it could reach the bottom with its feet or if they were just dangling in the water, as it was firmly positioned on a partially submerged log and needed no anchor.
The yellow coloring in yellow-headed blackbirds is mostly confined to their heads and chests, even for females whose coloring is not nearly as bold as their male counterparts. But, as you can see from her acrobatic pose, there’s also a little splash of yellow on her rump.
An American bittern pokes its head out of the tall grasses as it hunts in the soft light at the end of the day.
Introduced into the United States hundreds of years ago, teasel can be seen at a variety of locations around the Ridgefield auto tour.
I’ve frequently seen bitterns catch tiny little fish like this one and I often wonder if it’s worth the effort (especially so when the larger herons and egrets do it). I guess they’re not expending much extra effort while on patrol looking for all kinds of prey, be it fish or frog or vole or snake or earthworm.
They say pictures never lie but they can certainly give the wrong impression. This American bittern, swallowing a treefrog it just caught, caught it further away from the water but came down to the water, dunked it, and swallowed it. As adults treefrogs often live near water but spend most of their time on land (and more often near the ground rather than in trees). The bittern has covered both its eyes with a nictitating membrane to protect them as it flips the frog down towards its throat.
Thank you, little bittern, but you keep it. I insist.
At the dog park this morning two young dogs were playing when suddenly in their rough play a line was crossed and things got more serious. Their owners separated them and the aggression quickly dissipated and hopefully each dog made a little progress in their socialization. These two otters were part of a family group catching fish in Bower Slough, and thus were quite familiar with each other, but even so when one otter grabbed the other by the scruff of the neck I wondered if this playful move was a bridge too far. But as you can see the otter’s skin is loose with plenty of fat underneath and the victim took it all in stride.
It rains fairly often during winter here in the Pacific Northwest but it is often a gentle, misty rain and hard to convey in images. On this January afternoon, however, great big buckets of rain started pouring from the sky so I took the opportunity to show how predators like this egret, if they want to eat, have to hunt no matter the weather. If you’re wondering how the egret fared under such conditions, this happened about 10 minutes later.
I was playing off the shutter speed (to freeze the rain) with the depth of field (to keep as much rain in focus as possible), but I wish I could have had more depth of field. Hopefully it still conveys a sense of how hard it was raining.
It used to be when I left the River S Unit at Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge and started my trek home, I’d round the bend and get this lovely view of Mount St. Helens. Early in 2004 I stopped to take a picture of the volcano with the foothills coated in snow, as they were just starting to convert a meadow into a subdivision and I knew the view wouldn’t last.
A large number of new subdivisions have gone in since as the sleepy little town transforms into a bedroom community for Vancouver and Portland. I’ve often thought about how wonderful it would be to live in one of those houses, to be able to roll out of bed near sunrise and be right at the refuge, but I wouldn’t seriously consider moving there — the refuge is on the other side of the Columbia from where I work and the commute would be soul-crushing.
Boolie 