Scratcher of heads, rubber of bellies
I was re-editing some photos to go along with a saguaro post and realized this bittern image wasn’t even online. The auto tour at Ridgefield was a magical place, you could shut your car off and sit in the rain and the cold and the wildlife would come right up to you.
📷: Canon 7D | Canon 500mm f/4 + 1.4X
🗓️: January 4, 2013
These pictures remind me of spring as I so loved sitting beside a lush meadow and listening to the savannah sparrows sing. They were taken in the fall though, the green backdrop courtesy of the wonderland that is the Pacific Northwest.
📷: Sony A6500 | Canon 500mm | Canon 1.4X
🗓️: October 1, 2017
Raindrops accumulate on the head of a red-winged blackbird on a damp day in the Pacific Northwest. Brings back a lot of memories of finding a favorite spot on the auto tour at Ridgefield, rolling down the windows, and reveling in the rain. I didn’t know it at the time but this was my penultimate visit before we left Oregon.
📷: Sony A6500 | Canon 500mm | Canon 1.4X
🗓️: October 1, 2017
On New Year’s Eve in 2009, snow still blanketed the ground but the more typical cold rain had returned, beading up on the head and neck and shoulders of an American bittern as it patrolled the edges of South Quigley Lake. I loved being at Ridgefield in the rain, sitting at one of my favorite spots on the auto tour with a bevy of towels strewn around the car to absorb the rain that would blow in. Your car acted as a blind so on days with poor weather and little traffic, as long as you sat quietly the animals would relax and often come quite close. This was one of two bitterns I was watching for a couple of hours that afternoon until the bewitching hour approached and I had to start the car to make it out before the gate closed.
A song sparrow peaks out of the marsh on a rainy October morning at Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge. They are year round residents here in Arizona as well but I’ve yet to see one, though to be fair I’ve only been hiking in the local desert environment.
One of the nice features of bird guides on mobile devices, compared to their traditional paper counterparts, is the ability to only show birds you might see in a state (apart from the occasional rarity that has strayed far from its normal course). I used this feature when researching the places we considered moving, to see how many of the birds will be new to me and how many I’m going to have to say goodbye to. Some will at once be familiar and unfamiliar, such as this song sparrow singing from the cattails at Ridgefield’s South Quigley Lake, as while the ubiquitous sparrow does live in Arizona it has a different look from the those of the Pacific Northwest.
This is part of the attraction of the desert for us, it’s a big change from what we are used to, and my hunch is I’ll have fun exploring the landscapes and wildlife there for many years to come. We’ll see if time proves me correct, but I’m optimistic. I am going to miss in particular the auto tour at Ridgefield though, this is by far the place I’ve spent the most time in the Northwest, as well as the wetlands in general.
From 2008, a simple portrait of a red-winged blackbird perching on a cattail. Sometimes I need simple.
A Wilson’s snipe in its element at the edge of the marsh.
Downy feathers cling to an American bittern’s beak after a preening session on a rainy winter afternoon. This one was at South Quigley Lake at Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge, my second favorite place to watch for bitterns on the refuge (and the first if there aren’t tall grasses along the final channel beside Rest Lake, like during the winter this was taken).
A Wilson’s snipe sings as the rain pours down at South Quigley Lake.
Why so eager to sing little one? Ah, you’re in love.
Boolie 