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Posts Tagged ‘December’

Even when the weather is cold and overcast, I can usually count on finding sparrows in the marsh and in the field, cheerfully pecking about in the undergrowth. Their positive, hard-working approach and predisposition to spontaneously breaking out in song never fails to lift my spirits.

I have gotten to the point where I can identify some sparrows, but many of them continue to confound me. I think the one in the first photo is a Swamp Sparrow (Melospiza georgiana), but I am not sure of the identity of the rotund little sparrow in the second photo.

I remember when I used to categorize all sparrows as “little brown birds,” but have grown to appreciate their beauty and individuality.

sparrow2_dec_blogsparrow1_dec_blog

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

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Birders, I’m finding out, are an excitable breed. Sometimes they travel in flocks and sometimes alone. You can often identify them by their binoculars and spotting scopes and sometimes their cameras with enormous camouflaged lenses. They have special apps on their smartphones and frequently can be observed with their heads buried in one of the numerous identification guides they may be carrying.

I encountered a very excited member of this species as I passed by the bird feeders at my local marshland park this past weekend. He had his camera—with a large lens and flash—set up on a tripod pointed at the feeder.  Crouching in the shadows with a remote release in his hand, he was obviously waiting for something.

Before I could pose the obvious question, he asked me in a whisper if I also was there to photograph the Wilson’s Warbler. He must have mistaken me for one of his own kind, probably because I had a camera with a telephoto lens around my neck. I got the impression that this bird was rarely seen here and that word had circulated in birding circles of this find. Suddenly he snapped a few photos and went rushing off into the underbrush, saying that a fellow birders had alerted him that the bird had also been seen near one of the benches in the park. His closing words to me were that the warbler had been timed as coming back to the feeder every four to five minutes.

Caught up in the excitement, I waited near the feeder with my camera. The only problem was that I did not have a clue what a Wilson’s Warbler looked like. How was I going to photograph it if I couldn’t identify it? An assortment of Downy Woodpeckers and nuthatches arrived and departed at the feeder and I was beginning to despair that I would see this elusive bird, when all of the sudden I saw a flash of bright yellow. It was a small yellow bird, a welcome sight on a gray late December day, and over the course of the next fifteen minutes or so I attempted to take his picture.

When I arrived home, looked at my photographs on my computer, and did a little research, I realized that I had photographed a Wilson’s Warbler (Wilsonia pusilla or Cardellina pusilla). Judging from the range maps on the Cornell Lab of Ornithology website, Virginia is on the migratory path for these birds, which breed in the northern and western parts of North American and winter in the tropics.

I am not used to photographing birds at a feeder, but managed to get a few interesting shots of the Wilson’s Warbler. To avoid scaring off the bird, I was at a pretty good distance from the feeder,  so I had to crop the images quite a bit. I am quite content, though, that I have managed to capture some of the essence of this happy little bird.

Wilson's Warbler Walking

Wilson’s Warbler Walking

Wilson's Warbler Hovering

Wilson’s Warbler Hovering

Wilson's Warbler Feeding

Wilson’s Warbler Feeding

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved

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Sunset1

The weather at the beginning of this week has been unseasonably warm, with temperatures soaring past 70 degrees F (21 degrees C). Yesterday I spent the entire day indoors at work, but I was able to enjoy this beautiful respite on Monday afternoon, when I spent several hours meandering through the marsh. The day ended with a beautiful sunset that I tried to capture in stages, as the sun dipped lower and lower on the horizon. This sunset’s most striking characteristic was the reflected light in the clouds—the colors themselves were as striking as in some other sunsets. We will soon be back to freezing temperatures and gray skies, but I hope that occasionally we will still be treated to these amazing displays of light and color.

Sunset2

Sunset3

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

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It was sunny yesterday afternoon and got up to 50 degrees F (10 degrees C), relatively warm compared to recent frosty mornings. The faded foliage and the coolness of the breeze reminded me that it is late fall. I was therefore shocked when I spotted a little red dragonfly perched on the boardwalk in front of me.

I recognized this one immediately as an Autumn Meadowhawk dragonfly (Sympetrum vicinum), the last dragonfly that I saw weeks ago and I had done a little research. For an instant I lamented that the setting was not a natural one (the boards are of a composite material), but I managed to get off a couple of shots before the dragonfly flew away. For the rest of the afternoon I keep my eyes alert and managed to spot another one in a similar pose. The second time I got down low and tried to get a shot at the level of his beautiful eyes. The first shot below is a cropped version of the resulting photo, intended to highlight some of his features that get lost when you include his wide wings. The second image is the same photo, but showing his wings. I was shooting with a telephoto zooms lens, so his tail is foreshortened a bit from this angle. The third photo is similar to the second, but was taken from a steeper angle looking down. The final image, which was actually the first one taken, was shot looking almost straight down and provides the best view of the details of the tail.

I love dragonflies, but I never expected to see one in December in Northern Virginia.  Once again I realize that I need to dream bigger, that I need to be prepared for the unexpected blessings that may come into my life, even modest ones like a beautiful red dragonfly.

Close-up of Autumn Meadowhawk dragonfly

Close-up of Autumn Meadowhawk dragonfly

Full front view of Autumn Meadowhawk

Face-to-face with Autumn Meadowhawk dragonfly

View from above

Front view of Autumn Meadowhawk dragonfly

View from above of Autumn Meadowhawk dragonfly

View from above of Autumn Meadowhawk dragonfly

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

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