A Foggy Day at Back Bay

Web Back Bay Jan 12

Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge is one of my favorite places. It’s basically a sandy ridge of land between two major bodies of water. Some of its hiking trails wind over high dunes and trickle down to the Atlantic Ocean. Other trails slither through the salt marshes that border Back Bay.

Each winter, thousands of migrating birds pass through the refuge. So today, despite gray, misty skies, we decided to spend a few hours looking for geese.

At first, all we found was fog.

Back Bay Jan 12

The further we walked, the thicker the fog.

Back Bay Jan 12

Back Bay Jan 12

On the beach, there were no horizons. The view simply faded into nothingness.

Back Bay Jan 12

Every so often, the fog thinned a bit. Then the world regained its edges, though none of the edges seemed fixed. Everything was blurred and soft.

Back Bay Jan 12

Back Bay Jan 12

Back Bay Jan 12

Back Bay Jan 12

Back Bay Jan 12

We walked nearly an hour before seeing or hearing any geese. Then… Snow Geese!

Snow Geese Jan 12

Snow geese everywhere! Geese as far as the eye could see (which, admittedly, wasn’t very far)…

Snow Geese Jan 12

Snow Geese Jan 12

Snow Geese Jan 12

(Please pardon the inconsistent focus and poor light. It really was quite foggy.)

Snow Geese Jan 12

Snow Geese Jan 12

Photos can’t sufficiently convey the scene. Sound was a major part of the magic.

After a while, we began to notice other birds hidden among the geese. In particular, swans. (I think these might be Tundra Swans?)

Swan Jan 12

Swan Jan 12

Swan Jan 12

And American Coots.

Coot Jan 12

Coot Jan 12

Coot Jan 12

It was hard to walk away from such a glorious scene, but nightfall’s approach turned the fog almost impenetrable.

Snow Geese Jan 12

As we were leaving, the geese were still arriving. One group landed right beside us, inside the shrinking sphere of the fog’s miasma.

Snow Geese Jan 12

Along the return trail, we found ducks. (I can’t begin to guess what kind of ducks…)

Ducks Jan 12

Ducks Jan 12

And finally, right beside the parking lot, we surprised a solitary Great Blue Heron.

Heron Jan 12

Heron Jan 12

It was a beautiful way to end a beautiful, foggy day…

Back Bay Jan 12

Cormorants and a Grebe

Squirrel Jan 10

Over the past few weeks I’ve been seeing cormorants on nearby ponds. Usually small groups, four or five at a time, and never when my camera is ready. As today’s warm, bright sunshine seemed wasted on a half-tame squirrel in an overfull bird feeder, I grabbed my keys and a jacket and started walking.

My first stop brought instant success.

Cormorant Jan 10

And this was no small group of cormorants.

Cormorant Jan 10

It was a cormorant flock, dotted here and there with seagulls.

Cormorant Jan 10

Cormorant Jan 10

It was too easy, and after a few frames I turned my attention to an adjacent canal. I saw a flicker of movement, a small brown and white flash that left a few ripples to prove I had not been hallucinating. Moments later, this little grebe surfaced long enough to allow a single photo.

Grebe Jan 10

I wasn’t certain, at first, that it really was a grebe. When it reappeared, too far down the canal for my lens, I followed. For the next half-hour, I chased my shy target up and down a hundred yard stretch of water. It would bob to the surface, linger long enough to catch my eye, then dive again. When it tired of diving, it retreated to areas blocked by branches, forcing me to thread the camera’s focus through gaps so small that the slightest movement ruined my shots.

Grebe Jan 10

Grebe Jan 10

When I finally found a good vantage point and had the opportunity to line up a clear photo, I got so excited that I moved too fast, stepped on a branch, and frightened the grebe into another fifteen minutes of prolonged diving. Almost ready to give up, I turned my attention to a pair of ducks.

Mallards Jan 10

Then the grebe popped back into sight, drifted into a clear spot, and seemed to pose. Almost as if it had tired of our chase. (I believe this is a pied-billed grebe. Please comment, if you can correct or confirm my identification.)

Grebe Jan 10

Grebe Jan 10

After taking these photos, I became aware of a disturbance on the pond behind me. Small, repeated splashes…

Cormorant Jan 10

At first, I couldn’t tell what was happening. Then I realized that the cormorants had begun fishing.

Cormorant Jan 10

Cormorant Jan 10

Cormorant Jan 10

They dove over and over again. Sometimes the entire flock disappeared underwater.

Cormorant Jan 10

Cormorant Jan 10

I soon realized why the gulls were there. Each time a cormorant surfaced with a particularly tempting catch, the gulls attacked, shrieking with greed.

Cormorant Jan 10

Cormorant Jan 10

Cormorant Jan 10

The attacks only stopped when a family arrived with a bag of bread, luring the gulls away with the promise of easier food.

I took a few more pictures before leaving the pond, catching a group of sleepy ducks and a northern shoveler.

Mallards Jan 10

Shoveler Jan 10

Then I headed home, eager to download my photos and put together a new blog post. (Partly because I’m still in the learning phase, when it comes to bird identification, and I would love a little help naming these cormorants and gulls!)

Photos, January 1

The year’s first frames were disappointing. I stretched my camera’s zoom too far, resulting in poorly focused photos with a flat, grainy look.

Heron Jan 1

Heron Jan 1

Then there was a tempting glimpse of a kingfisher. (I couldn’t get any closer because there was a canal in the way.)

Kingfisher Jan 1

View Jan 1

On my side of the canal, I watched this partially uprooted tree for a long time. Doesn’t it look like something should live under it?

View Jan 1

In the end, after miles of aimless driving and four forays through a wind that was colder than I had expected, the day’s best photo was found in a roadside ditch…

Heron Jan 1

Birds in the Sky and Weeds in the Yard

Yesterday’s sky made me dizzy. High cirrus clouds drifted eastward while fair-weather cumulus clouds surfed brisk lower currents. Vultures and seagulls spiraled on afternoon thermals, swooping low over the house before soaring out of sight too rapidly for my lens to focus.

Vulture Dec 10

Gull Dec 10

Underfoot, chickweed and henbit sprouted through mulch and rotting leaves, spreading beneath the pear tree and creeping into the iris beds.

Chickweed Dec 10

Henbit Dec 10

The sky made me dizzy, but every time I knelt to photograph a weed, quarreling gulls called me back to my feet. Then weeds lured me back to my knees. I spent a distracted hour switching the camera in and out of macro mode, kneeling and standing and kneeling again. It was almost a relief when the batteries died…

Frost in the Forecast

For me, winter starts when I cut the ginger lilies.

So today, even though it was warm enough to open the windows, winter arrived in the yard. Our forecast calls for temperatures near freezing Saturday night, and I didn’t want to risk losing any of the bulbs to frost.

As I worked my way through the tangle of stalks, I recovered three chimes that had broken off of a wind chime and two birdhouses that had fallen during one of the recent storms. Somehow, repairing the wind chime made me feel a little less guilty about the lingering scent of unfinished blooms.

The cats followed my progress, moving from window to window as I moved from bed to bed.

(Please excuse Vanna’s sour expression. She was trying to ignore the fact that there is room for two cats on that perch. Fortunately, a flock of robins arrived shortly after this picture was taken, providing a distraction from the uncomfortable standoff.)

The robins were soon joined by several warblers and a pair of hungry squirrels.

Today’s strangest sighting was this very disheveled red admiral butterfly. It seemed to be heading south, perhaps following the opposite path of spring’s massive red admiral migration.

Wherever it was going, I hope it gets there safely. And I hope it was able to pause, for a moment, and enjoy tonight’s beautiful sunset.