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Garter Snake in November

I don’t really expect to see snakes in mid-November. Surely they are all holed-up somewhere, waiting for spring to come.

Last week, however, when I was concluding a successful search for a Great Spreadwing damselfly with fellow odonate enthusiast Walter Sanford, I spotted portions of the body of an Eastern Garter Snake (Thamnophis sirtalis sirtalis) as it slithered in an out of the fallen leaves that covered the path on which we were walking. Then we spotted a second one and a third.

I felt a little like Indiana Jones in the Raiders of the Lost Ark, when he dropped his torch into the well and saw that the floor below was covered with slithering snakes. “Why did it have to be snakes?” For all I knew, we might have been standing in the midst of a massive colony of snakes.

Unlike Indiana Jones, though, I don’t suffer from a fear of snakes, so the first thought that came to my mind was figuring out how to get some shots of the snakes. Walter and I got a good look at the third snake, which froze in place for an extended period of time.

I had my Tamron 180mm macro lens on my camera, so I knew that there was no way that I was going to capture a shot of the entire body of the snake. My initial shots were taken from above, looking down at the snake. I like the way that I was able to capture a glimpse of both eyes and a sense of the environment, filled with fallen foliage.

Eastern Garter Snake

I really wanted to isolate the snake better, so I decided to move to the side a bit and closer to the snake. I tried to focus on breathing slowly in order to steady my camera better as the snake grew larger and larger in my viewfinder. I got a shot that looks like a kind of autumn still life.

Eastern Garter Snake

Most people might have figured that there was no need to get any closer, but I decided I wanted to try to get a side view of the snake. So I moved in even closer, knowing that the closer I got, the harder it was going to be to get a shot in focus as the depth of field grew increasingly more shallow. The photo below is not cropped at all and gives you an idea how low to the ground I was when I took the shot. I know that I am really close when I get a really good reflection in the snake’s eye.

Eastern Garter Snake

I have commented several times before about my bodily contortions when getting shots like this and how happy I am that nobody was around to document them. In this case, though, Walter photographed me as I was getting the last shot.

If you want to see his shot of me (and, more importantly, his take on the snake), be sure to check out Walter’s blog posting. As a bonus, you’ll also learn more about how snakes brumate during the winter—they don’t actually hibernate.

I highly recommend shooting the same subject periodically with another photographer and comparing results. It’s fascinating and instructive to get a sense of how a single situation can be interpreted and how each photographer makes a whole series of creative choices that result in very different images.

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

My eyes are unavoidably drawn to large birds in the sky. For me, it doesn’t really matter if it is a hawk, an osprey, or an eagle or, in this case, “only” a Black Vulture (Coragyps atratus) that I saw last week at Huntley Meadows Park. They are all impressive birds.

This bird was one of four Black Vultures that were circling overhead as I wandered through a remote area of my favorite marshland park. I love to watch these vultures as they soar through the sky searching for the scent of something dead to eat.

Where I live, we have both Black Vultures and Turkey Vultures. Most of the time, they are easy to tell apart, because the white patterns on the wings are different and their heads have different colors. As you can see in the photos, the Black Vulture has a black head, whereas the Turkey Vulture has a red head.

When vultures are circling around me like this, I follow the advice that was given to me several years ago and make sure I move from time to time. I wouldn’t want one of the vultures to think that I was dead.

Black Vulture

Black Vulture

Black Vulture

Black Vulture

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Dual-unicorn Grasshopper

I sometimes make up my own names for species that I have trouble identifying and I call this grasshopper that I observed this weekend the Dual-unicorn Grasshopper, because the shape and pattern of the antennae remind me of many of the depictions I have seen of the mythical unicorn.

What is it really called? Almost exactly a year ago, I posted some photos of a similar-looking grasshopper and considered the possibility that it might be a Slant-faced Grasshopper or a Cone-headed Grasshopper. Are those names any less outrageous than the one that I am suggesting?

I did manage last year to find some photos of grasshoppers that looked pretty much like mine that were identified on BugGuide as a Cattail Toothpick Grasshopper (Leptysma marginicollis).

Cattail Toothpick Grasshopper? I have to say that those three words make for an unusual word combination. I think I’ll continue to call it the Dual-unicorn Grasshopper.

Dual-unicorn Grasshopper

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Hard to swallow

How is it possible to sneak up on a frog and grab it with such force that it is unable to escape as you slowly swallow it headfirst while it is still alive? With a mixture of horror and fascination, I witnessed part of the process yesterday when I spotted an Eastern Ribbon Snake (Thamnophis sauritus sauritus) that had captured a Gray Treefrog (Hyla versicolor).

I was walking through the vegetation at the edge of a field when I spotted a part of the body of the ribbon snake. I moved closer as my eyes traced the body of the snake as I searched for its head. When I spotted the head from a distance, I was confused—it was enlarged like that of a hooded cobra and it was swaying back and forth. What was going on?

I slowed down and gradually came to realize that the snake had a struggling frog in its mouth and was holding it in the air so that the flailing legs had nothing to grab onto for leverage. The frog seemed so much bigger than the snake’s head that it seemed almost impossible that the snake could swallow it.

The snake slithered a short distance away with its partially swallowed prey and continued the process. I managed to get a glimpse of the astonishing extent to which the snake can open its mouth before the disappeared disappeared under a pile of wood to enjoy its meal in peace.

Initially I couldn’t identify the frog, but my good friend Walter Sanford made an initial identification and pointed me to the website of the Virginia Herpetological Society. I carefully read the information there and have concluded that the frog is probably a Gray Treefrog (Hyla versicolor), although it is possible it could be a Cope’s Tree Frog (Hyla chrysoscelis). “Our two native gray treefrogs are identical in appearance. In the field the only two ways to distinguish H. chrysoscelis from H. versicolor is by their call and in some cases geographic location.”

I was particularly struck by the bright orange color on the hind legs of the frog. Wikepedia notes that both of the potential species have bright-yellow patches on their hind legs, which distinguishes them from other tree frogs and that “the bright patches are normally only visible while the frog is jumping.” Obviously the situation I witnessed is not “normal,” so I was able to see the colors, even though the frog was obviously not jumping.

I’ve included a small series of shots to give you a sense of the situation. They were all shot handheld with my Tamron 180mm macro lens.

Gray Treefrog

Gray Treefrog

Gray Treefrog

Gray Treefrog

Gray Treefrog

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Final fall farewell

Over the last month I have developed an unhealthy obsession with the Great Spreadwing damselfly (Archilestes grandis)—I think that I have turned into a stalker.

Normally I am a walker, not a stalker. I like to keep in motion, opportunistically scanning for new and different subjects to photograph. Increasingly, however, I have been spending endless hours at the same location, waiting and hoping that I will get yet another glimpse of a Great Spreadwing damselfly.

My friend and fellow fanatic Walter Sanford and I have been closely monitoring this one location, documenting in our photos the continued presence of these beautiful creatures and establishing new records for the latest date that they have been spotted in our area. It’s become harder and harder to find one of them and their population has shrunk to the point that there may be only one damselfly remaining.

That certainly seemed to be the case on 11 November (Veterans Day/Armistice Day), when for the first time this season, Walter and I hunted together for a Great Spreadwing. We have a friendly rivalry and push each other, but on this day it was complete cooperation as we searched for hours, uncertain if there were any survivors. Check out Walter’s blog posting today for an engaging narrative and wonderful photos of our adventures that day, which ultimately turned out to be successful in spotting a Great Spreadwing damselfly.

I too managed to get a few photos, although it was tough to frame a shot, because the  damselfly perched in the almost knee-high vegetation and I couldn’t move much from my crouching position for fear of scaring it away. I was shooting with my 180mm macro lens, so zooming from a greater distance was not an option.

Is this the final fall farewell? Are my days as a stalker coming to an end? When is it time to call it quits on a relationship?

The weather has turned cooler again and conditions continue to grow increasingly inhospitable. These may well be the last shots I get of a Great Spreadwing damselfly this season.

However, I’m heading out to the park in a short while and suspect that I will be drawn back inexorably to the damselfly’s habitat.

It’s so hard to say goodbye.

Great Spreadwing

Great Spreadwing

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

 

Last man standing?

Check out today’s posting by my good friend and fellow photographer Walter Sanford for a compelling narrative and wonderful photos of our newest adventures searching for the Great Spreadwing damselfly.

waltersanford's avatarwalter sanford's photoblog

It was my honor to spend Veterans Day with my good friend and photowalking buddy Major Michael Powell, U.S. Army, Retired. We were men on a mission: Searching for Great Spreadwing damselflies (Archilestes grandis), in the hope of extending the “official” late-date for this species in Virginia. Mission accomplished, but it wasn’t easy — the operation was unsuccessful until we called in an “air strike!”

Since 06 October 2015, Mike and I have been frequently monitoring the Great Spreadwing damselflies that inhabit a small permanent pond and surrounding fields at a remote location in Huntley Meadows Park.

On 11 November, Mike and I spent several hours intensively searching for our quarry; no luck. A little after 1:00 p.m., we were standing near the pond watching a lone Shadow Darner dragonfly (Aeshna umbrosa) aggressively hawking smaller odonates perching around the perimeter of the pond: the darner dipped into…

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Fiery tree

Most of the trees have given up their colorful leaves by now, but one hardy young tree refused to do so and looked almost like it was on fire in the early morning yesterday at Huntley Meadows Park.

The tree really stood out and grabbed my attention and I wanted somehow to capture its beauty. Many of you know that I have very limited experience with landscape photography and I simply wasn’t sure how to approach this atypical subject.

My first instinct was to zoom in closely and fill as much of the frame with the details of the tree as I could. That’s my favored approach with both my macro and zoom lenses.  I was shooting over a field of cattails and across a pond and my first series of images looked like this one.

fiery tree

I moved further down the boardwalk and decided to try to capture more of the surrounding environment by shooting in landscape mode. I also tried to get a clearer view of the beautiful reflections my moving beyond the cattails.

fiery tree

In order to get a different view, I climbed up the observation deck and took some shots like this one with various objects in the foreground and some reflected sky showing at the bottom of the image.

fiery tree

I presented the images with only a slight amount of cropping to give you an idea of what I was going for as I “worked” this subject. How did I do? In my view, the middle image is by far the best and serves as a reminder to me that stepping back and zooming out can be beneficial. More importantly, perhaps, I can see the benefits of trying out different approaches and different subjects as a way of stretching and learning and, hopefully, growing in my skills as a photographer.

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Harassed hawk

Wouldn’t it to be great to be able to soar high in the sky like a hawk, liberated from the cares of our daily lives? Of course, hawks have their own share of problems, like the pesky crows and blackbirds that mercilessly harass them.

I think the hawk in the photos is a Red-shouldered Hawk (Buteo lineatus), the same one, in fact, that I featured making a hasty landing in a tree. There were several small birds chasing after the hawk, though I was only able to capture one close to the hawk.

Red-shouldered Hawk

Red-shouldered Hawk

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Natural alarm clock

Who needs a rooster when you have a Red-winged Blackbird?

The silence of the early morning yesterday at Huntley Meadows Park was broken by the raucous call of a male Red-winged Blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus), announcing loudly his presence and the arrival of a new day.

On a frosty November morning, it was time to wake up.

Red-winged Blackbird

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

How do birds choose the perches they use? Several times last month I saw a female Belted Kingfisher (Megaceryle alcyon) perched in the early morning on this monitoring equipment sticking out of the water. Somehow I had the impression that the kingfisher was spending the nights on that perch.

Perhaps it’s more comfortable (or maybe safer) than the surrounding trees. Whatever the case, it makes for an interesting juxtaposition of natural and man-made elements in the image.

Belted Kingfisher

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

The hawk was moving really fast when it apparently spotted a perch that it liked. In an amazingly short distance, the hawk was able to slow down and really stuck the landing.  If I were a judge, though, I would have to deduct some points for the break in his form as he slowed down—it certainly did not look very elegant.

For most of these shots of the hawk, which I think is a Red-shouldered Hawk (Buteo lineatus), I was shooting at a higher ISO than I prefer in order to keep the shutter speed high. The results are a little grainy, particularly because I had to a fairly substantial crop, given that I was shooting across a small pond and the tree on which the hawk was perched was pretty far away. In the final shot, when the hawk was stationary, I was able to lower the ISO and there is a bit more fine detail.

Red-shouldered Hawk

Full speed ahead

Red-shouldered Hawk

Trying to slow down

Red-shouldered Hawk

Sticking the landing I

Red-shouldered Hawk

Sticking the landing II

Red-shouldered Hawk

Adjusting the position

Red-shouldered Hawk

Surveying the area

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Pushing the limit

Do you keep returning to the same places over and over again to take photos of the same subjects? For the last month or so, I have been going back repeatedly to a small pool of water in a secluded part of my favorite park, hoping to get another glimpse of a spectacular Great Spreadwing damselfly (Archilestis grandis).

Their numbers seem to have dwindled and it is possible that there is only a single damselfly of this species remaining. Yesterday, I watched and waited for quite some time before I was finally able to spot a male Great Spreadwing and it took several mini-encounters before I was able to get a decent photograph of the damselfly.

All of the female damselflies of this species seem to have disappeared several weeks ago, so it seems that any hopes he harbors for mating may be in vain. Indeed, the clock is definitely ticking for him—this species has never before been documented in Virginia this late in November.

I am cheering for this survivor and will try to find him again later this weekend. Despite my hopeful attitude, however, I can’t help but remember that yesterday I observed a large Shadow Darner dragonfly (Aeshna umbrosa) patrolling the pool and periodically chasing the damselfly, hoping to turn him into the main course of his lunch.

I’ve included two very different images of yesterday’s damselfly. The first shot is one that I framed very carefully, trying to get as parallel as I could with the damselfly and focusing manually. I like the way that it shows so many of beautiful details of the damselfly’s body. When I took the second shot, I was facing almost directly into the sun and I hurriedly played with camera settings to try to ensure that I did not get a mere silhouette. I really liked the way the sunlight was coming through the outstretched wings and used my camera’s pop-up flash to add a little light to the damselfly’s underside.

Great Spreadwing

Great Spreadwing

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Growing up in the 1960’s, I remember well The Byrds folk-rock version of the song Turn! Turn! Turn! (To Everything There is a Season), a Pete Seeger song with lyrics adapted almost word-for-word from Chapter 3 of the Biblical Book of Ecclesiastes. (If you have never heard The Byrds version of this song, here’s a link to a YouTube video of a performance.)

“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven…”

According to statistical records, the season of the boldly-patterned Twelve-spotted Skimmer dragonfly (Libellula pulchella) in my area ended in early to mid-October. I was therefore shocked last Friday, 30 October, when I spotted a beautiful male Twelve-spotted Skimmer flying about in a field at Huntley Meadows Park.

I sometimes have trouble identifying species, but the wing patterns of this species are so distinctive that I knew exactly what it was, so I chased it around for a little while until I was able to get some shots of it. When I posted this photo on the Facebook page of Northeast Odonata, several members of the group commented on the “fresh” and undamaged condition of the dragonfly.

Statistics only get you so far, especially when looking at individuals. This dragonfly beat the odds and is a survivor—his personal “season” is off of the charts.

Like this dragonfly, we all have personal “seasons.” The dragonfly’s unexpected appearance brought to mind the words of a pastor at a funeral I attended earlier this year, who poignantly remarked that “we all come with expiration dates.” That reminder continues to challenge me as I think about how I should live my life.

“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven…”

 

Twelve-spotted Skimmer

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

 

A year ago today my heart was breaking as I informed readers that the injured Bald Eagle at my local marshland park had been euthanized. It was a really difficult posting for me to write, particularly because I had been so hopeful the previous day’s blog posting when I described the heroic rescue of the eagle.

The emotions are still pretty intense, despite the passage of time. I felt something really special when I was privileged to look into the eyes of the eagle at close range, a bird that somehow retained a sense of majesty despite the pain she was obviously feeling.

I don’t often re-blog my own postings, but today, I want to remember and treasure the moments that I chronicled. (If you want to know more details about the experience, there are links in the text below).

Text of my posting from 5 November 2014:

We all like to believe in happy endings, but unlike fairy tales, real life does not always turn out that way. I was saddened this afternoon to learn that the female Bald Eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) that was rescued on Monday at Huntley Meadows Park had to be euthanized.

The dislocation of her elbow was chronic and so severe that eventual release was not a possibility.  The doctors at The Wildlife Center of Virginia determined that humane euthanasia was the best treatment.

I was happy that the work of the Fairfax County Animal Control Services officer that I chronicled in an earlier posting were featured today in the on-line editions of local media, including the Washington Post, WJLA (ABC television), WTOP radio, and Inside NOVA. The sad ending in no way diminishes my respect and thanks to Officer Kathy Prucnal for her extraordinary efforts to rescue the injured eagle.

This photo that I took during the rescue is how I want to remember the female Bald Eagle, appearing strong and alert.

RIP, beautiful eagle.

Bald Eagle

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Magnified beauty

In the stillness of the early morning hours, the line between reality and reflections is blurred and beauty is simply magnified.

The Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias) is very recognizable in the first image, but as you progress through the three images, the central focus starts to shift away from the heron. In the final image, the heron has become merely one element of a larger, almost abstract composition.

Great Blue Heron

Great Blue Heron

Great Blue Heron

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Wishes come true

On a sunny day in late October, I was admiring the beautiful fall colors at Huntley Meadows Park and thought that it would be really cool if a Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias) would pose for me in the colorful foliage.

Then it happened.

Wishes sometime come true.

Great Blue Heron

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

A bittersweet feeling at times envelops me at this time of the year as I photograph some summer species, never knowing for sure if it will be the last time I see them until next year.

This past Friday I spotted a tiny female Familiar Bluet damselfly (Enallagma civile), a species that I haven’t seen in months. I had almost forgotten how small these damselflies are, about 1.1 to 1.5 inches (29-39mm) in total length. Despite their diminutive size, they have wonderful colors and markings and I was thrilled to be able to be able to capture some of that beauty with my macro lens.

Will I see another Familiar Bluet? I will keep looking in familiar places, hoping for yet another rendezvous, for one more chance for a final farewell.

Familiar Bluet

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

I’m happy to see that some insects are still with us despite the cooling autumn weather. On Friday, I spotted this gorgeous metallic green Six-spotted Tiger Beetle (Cicindela sexguttata) on a fallen log at Huntley Meadows Park in Alexandria, Virginia.

Six-spotted Tiger Beetle

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Dragonfly on leg

What do you do when a dragonfly lands on you? My first reaction, of course, was to take a photo when this Autumn Meadowhawk (Sympetrum vicinum) landed on my leg on Friday.

The good news was that I had a macro lens on my camera, so I knew that I would be able to focus on the dragonfly. The bad news was that it was a 180mm  macro lens, so I had to go through acrobatic contortions to try to achieve enough distance to fit the entire dragonfly into the frame. I also had to move like a ninja to keep from scaring away my subject.

In the end, I managed to get a decent shot of the dragonfly by standing as tall as I could and shooting straight downward, although my gray sweatshirt billowed out a bit and obscured the view of the dragonfly’s feet. For those of you who are not familiar with Autumn Meadowhawks, they are small dragonflies with bodies about an inch or so in length (25mm).

Autumn Meadowhawk

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

 

The egrets and green herons have gone south for the winter, but the Great Blue Herons (Ardea herodias) at Huntley Meadows Park continue to provide me with lots of photo opportunities.

Great Blue Herons present an unusual challenge to me—they are so long and wide when in flight that I actual have to remember to zoom out when photographing them in order to fit them in the frame.  Like most wildlife photographers, I usually am complaining about needing more reach and spend most of my time shooting with the lens almost fully extended.

In this first shot, I was able to anticipate the action and captured the heron’s takeoff almost exactly the way you see it. In the second shot, however, I slightly misjudged the speed of the heron and almost cut off the wings and the feet. As you can see, the light was beautiful and I was happy to be able to capture a lot of beautiful wing details.

Before long migrating ducks should be arriving and you should be relieved from steady diet of heron photos with which I have been populating my postings recently.

Great Blue Heron

Great Blue Heron

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Early morning bluebird

Early morning light and fall foliage make such a great backdrop and I was thrilled when an Eastern Bluebird (Sialia sialis) flew closer to me and allowed me to take advantage of the situation.

I love it when the composition is this basic and the results are simply beautiful.

Eastern Bluebird

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Halloween Butterfly

Earlier this month I spotted a butterfly with perfect colors for Halloween and it was perched upside down in a way that reminded me of a bat. (Take a close look at its shadow.)

It’s not really called a Halloween Butterfly—I sometimes like to make up my own names for the creatures that I see and photograph. It was a cool, but sunny day when I came upon the butterfly, which was completely stretched out, basking in the warmth of the sun’s rays. I wasn’t sure it was alive, until it flew away when I moved in a little closer after some initial shots.

The unusual wing shape made me think it was either an Eastern Comma or a Question Mark butterfly—yes, there are butterflies named after punctuation marks—but I wasn’t sure which one. After a little research on line, I’m convinced that it is probably an Eastern Comma butterfly (Polygonia comma). According to a posting on Trekohio.com, Eastern Comma butterflies have three dark spots in a row on their front wings, while Question Mark butterflies have four spots.

Why am I seeing a butterfly this late in the season? Eastern Comma butterflies overwinter as adults. A University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee Field Station posting described the process in this way, “They overwinter in cracks and crevices in rocks and trees. There, they certainly freeze, becoming butterfly-sicles, but their blood contains glycogens – antifreeze – that allow their tissues to withstand the winter’s cycles of freezing and thawing.”

In spring, the un-dead arise again.

Happy Halloween.

Eastern Comma

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Tranquility

The soft morning light reflected off of the colorful autumn foliage early today at Huntley Meadows Park, providing a beautiful backdrop for this male Red-winged Blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus) as it perched in the cattails.

Red-winged Blackbird

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Warbler in October

Warblers are so small and hide so well in the trees that I almost never see any. This past week, however, I spotted a flash of yellow in the distance and I was able to capture some shots of what I have been told is a Palm Warbler (Setophaga palmarum), though it is hard for me to confirm the identification, considering how much many warbler species look almost alike.

I took these three shots from the same spot on the boardwalk at my local marshland park as I looked across a field of cattail and other vegetation. It’s interesting to note how much the feel of the photos changed as the warbler moved from perch to perch.

Normally I try to get close-up shots of my subjects, but I decided not to crop in on the first image, which reminds me of a Japanese ink painting with its sparse use of color and emphasis on lines and shapes. The background was so interesting in the second image, that once again I did only a minor crop. In the third image, my favorite element is the warbler’s tail.

Palm Warbler

Palm Warbler

Palm Warbler

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Wood Ducks take flight

This past weekend I inadvertently spooked a small flock of little Wood Ducks (Aix sponsa) while wandering about Huntley Meadows Park, but managed to get some shots of them as they flew away through the trees.

I just love the combination of the colorful birds in flight and the autumn foliage.

Wood Duck

Wood Duck

Wood Duck

Wood Duck

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Visual energy

After a gray, rainy day like today, I need a visual pick-me-up and energetic Downy Woodpeckers (Picoides pubescens) never fail to raise my spirits. I spotted this little beauty at Huntley Meadows Park this past weekend.

Downy Woodpecker

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Hidden heron

A Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias) is so big that it’s difficult to imagine one hiding itself effectively. Yet when this heron settled in among the branches of a tree, I was amazed to see how well it blended in with its surroundings. The heron was so effectively camouflaged that others who walked by did not even notice this large bird until I pointed it out to them and some of them still had difficulty picking it out.

As some of you have undoubtedly noticed, I love alliteration. I somehow can’t smile when I pronounce the title I chose for this posting.  It somehow brings to mind one of the scenes in “My Fair Lady,” with the phrase, “In Hertford, Hereford and Hampshire, hurricanes hardly happen” repeated as Professor Higgins, Colonel Pickering, and Eliza sing “The Rain in Spain.” (Here’s a link to the YouTube film clip of this scene.)

Great Blue Heron

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Skull of deer

I never quite know what I will stumble upon when I wander about in remote areas of the woods, fields, and marshes of Huntley Meadows Park. This past weekend I spotted this skull, which I guess is that of a White-tailed Deer (Odocoileus virginianus), a common species where I live. How did this deer meet its demise? Was it old age, disease, starvation, or a predator?

Somehow this simple image of a skull seems appropriate for Halloween Week. Happy Halloween in advance.

White-tailed Deer

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

WARNING: This encounter did not turn out well for the frog. This past Saturday I spotted a Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias) in the shallow water at the edge of a beaver pond at my favorite marshland. I watched and waited, knowing full well that a heron’s patience when fishing generally exceeds my own.

Suddenly the heron thrust its bill into the water with such force that it had to extend its wings for stability. Surely, I thought, the heron had just caught a massive fish.  When I caught a glimpse of the catch, however, I realized that it was not a fish—it was a frog. The heron’s grip on the frog looked to be a little problematic, for the heron had snagged the frog by its legs.

Now I realize that in some cultures, frog legs are considered to be a delicacy, but I was pretty confident that the heron was not going to settle for just the legs. The challenge for the heron was to reposition the frog without losing it. One added complication was that the frog appeared to be struggling, trying desperately to extricate itself from the heron’s tight grip.

Moving to the edge of the pond, the heron bent down and pinned the frog against the ground as it grasped the frog around its upper torso. Only then did the heron return to its original upright position, knowing that the frog’s fate was now sealed. With small movements of its head, the heron slowly repositioned the frog until it was in a heads-first position.

All of the sudden, the heron tilted its head back  and swallowed and the frog was gone so quickly that I was unable to capture its last moment.

Apparently the frog was just an appetizer, for I saw the heron catch a fish a short time later, but that may be the subject of a future post.

Great Blue Heron

The initial strike

Great Blue Heron

Hanging by the legs

Great Blue Heron

Grabbing the torso

Great Blue Heron

The beginning of the end

Great Blue Heron

Almost in position

Great Blue Heron

Ready for a big gulp

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Bald Eagles in October

It was cool and cloudy yesterday at Huntley Meadows Park, but my spirits were brightened considerably when I saw three Bald Eagles (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) soaring briefly over the park. It looked to be two adults and one juvenile, perhaps a family on a Saturday outing.

The eagles were pretty far away and I had my telephoto zoom lens extended as far as it could go as I attempted to track the flying eagles. Occasionally two of them or even all three would come into the frame for a split second, but then they would be soaring off into different parts of the sky.

I’m including an assortment of shots to give you a sense of the experience. I consider any day that I spot a Bald Eagle and get recognizable shots of it to be a wonderful day.

Bald Eagle

Bald Eagle

Bald Eagle

Bald Eagle

Bald Eagle

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Distinctive damselflies

Some of the damselfly species that I pursue are present in such limited numbers and in so well-defined areas that it is sometimes possible after time to recognize individual damselflies by their distinctive physical characteristics.

Earlier this month I was really excited when I spotted some Great Spreadwing damselflies (Archilestes grandis) after a tip from fellow dragonfly enthusiast Walter Sanford. I visited the location where he had seen them a few times and was able to get some good photos, which I included in several blog postings.

My efforts, though, pale in comparison with Walter’s—he virtually staked out that location and came to know some of  the damselflies there so well that he gave them nicknames. In messages to me, Walter noted he had named two of his favorites “Mr. Magoo” and “Bendy Straw.”  Check out Walter’s blog posting today for some wonderful images of these two damselfly celebrities.

As I reviewed my images of Great Spreadwings, I noticed that one of them had a peculiar bend near the end of his abdomen. Could this possibly be “Bendy Straw?” Walter and I were never at that location at the same time, so it seemed unlikely that I had seen one of “his” damselflies. After I sent him a copy of the image, he confirmed that I had in fact photographed “Bendy Straw.”

Great Spreadwing damselfly

As I continued examining my images, another damselfly stood out, because he had only five legs. It looked like one of his back legs had been completely severed, leaving a small stump. How could something like this have happened? I am used to seeing dragonflies with tattered wings, but an injury like this seems to be of a completely different nature.

Great Spreadwing damselfly

I usually try to identify the species of my subjects, but both of these damselflies help to remind me that I am not photographing species—I am photographing individuals. Each of those individuals has distinctive characteristics and has its own life story.

Somehow that seems to be a useful reminder and gives me a sense of perspective about what I am doing as a nature photographer.

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.