Scratcher of heads, rubber of bellies
The new year got off to a sunny start in 2012 and I spent the morning beside Bull Lake watching this merganser, a male/female wigeon pair, a mallard, a hungry heron, and a bunch of coots. There were big crowds at the refuge so I left early and took Ellie on an extra walk up to the dog park.
Lovely start to the year.
Music to my ears.
I had been watching this pika for a while and decided to use the rocks of the talus field near me to blur the bottom of the frame and make it seem almost as though the pika was emerging from the clouds. Unfortunately I only had a moment to attempt the shot, trying to get my tripod positioned in the jumbled rock field at just the right height while sitting uncomfortably on the rocks, and I ended up blurring its ears a little more than I would like.
Nevertheless one of my favorite pictures of one of my favorite creatures.
A cold snap at the end of the year meant the new year dawned to frost and ice. I started New Year’s morning the way I had New Year’s Eve, watching egrets and herons at Ridgefield. I had arrived before the sun and had been sitting watching this heron when I was struck by how the rising sun was already illuminating the far side of the marsh. Within minutes it would crest the hill and bring us the warmth of its light as well.
As I watched the animals that morning I knew our sweet little cat Emma was in a fight for her life but I didn’t know we only had a week left together. And of course I couldn’t know that on this day, or perhaps a day or two before, a little kitten was being rescued far away in southern Oregon, and that a few weeks later she’d be transferred to Portland and welcomed into our home, bringing us light at the end of a dark and depressing month.
The last day of the year got off to a cold but sunny start. I stopped at Rest Lake when I came across this great blue heron sitting beside the frozen channel and then sat listening to the cackling geese and tundra swans in the lake behind it. I couldn’t resist a self-portrait when the rising sun created a perfect shadow of my little Crosstrek on the bank.
A pika brings a mouthful of plants back to its home to store them for the long winter on Mount Rainier.
I spent over four hours watching a couple of pikas on the Palisades Lake Trail in Mount Rainier National Park, keeping an eye on the clock as I had a set time when I needed to depart for Olympic National Park. This pika was below the trail, the other above it, and I watched and photographed them through my biggest telephoto lens.
This pika spent most of its time with its back to me, sitting on a rock and looking down the hill, so I grabbed my widest lens to better show the world of these amazing little creatures (the pika is sitting dead center on a rock near the bottom of the frame). Winters are long and harsh here and it’s hard for me to wrap my head around how, without hibernating, pikas can survive a winter that would kill me within hours.
This is the same pika as in my I spent over four hours watching a couple of pikas on the Palisades Lake Trail in Mount Rainier National Park, keeping an eye on the clock as I had a set time when I needed to depart for Olympic National Park. This pika was below the trail, the other above it, and I watched and photographed them through my biggest telephoto lens.
This pika spent most of its time with its back to me, sitting on a rock and looking down the hill, so I grabbed my widest lens to better show the world of these amazing little creatures (the pika is sitting dead center on a rock near the bottom of the frame). Winters are long and harsh here and it’s hard for me to wrap my head around how, without hibernating, pikas can survive a winter that would kill me within hours.
This is the same pika as in my earlier picture, which was taken further up the trail to the right.
I’ve tried to hike the Palisades Lake Trail in Mount Rainier National Park three times over the past decade but never gotten very far. Once because of thunderstorms, twice because of pikas. I can’t resist them and spent my last hours of my latest visit watching this pika below the trail and another above it. Normally pikas let out a fairly quick call but thankfully this one let out an extended call as I had already packed up to head back up the trail and had to grab a quick handheld shot.
One day I’ll have to hike the trail with friends who can cover my eyes and stop up my ears and lead me safely past the siren’s call.
Late in September of 2008, I was hiking for the first time in the Sunrise portion of Mount Rainier National Park. It was cold and pouring rain but it was the start of a week of hiking and I was in a good mood. As I came across a talus field I noticed an unusual rock at the edge of the path. But when my rock moved as I approached I realized I had just seen my first hoary marmot.
My camera didn’t have any weather sealing and a previous accident had left a gaping hole at the top of the camera, but I couldn’t resist a few pictures.
Cackling geese fly at sunrise above Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge. I deliberately set the exposure to leave the scene dark, this is not at all what it looked like to the naked eye.
Boolie 