I haven’t seen an American Goldfinch (Spinus tristis) for quite some time, so I was happy when I spotted this one last Friday at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge. The vegetation was mostly dried-out, but the goldfinch had no problem finding lots of little seeds. I love the way that the dull colors of the goldfinch were a match for those of the seed heads that surrounded the little bird.
As we move to colder temperatures, I am taking fewer photos of insects and more of birds, like this cool-looking House Finch that I spotted last Wednesday at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge. From a distance, I though that this perched bird might be a sparrow, judging from its basic coloration. When I got a little closer, I could see the conical-shaped bill and reddish tinge on the bird’s head and breast, so I immediately was able to tell that it was definitely not a sparrow.
At first glance, the two photos may look identical, but if you look closely, you’ll see that the bird’s head is in a different position in each image. Although the second image is a better profile shot, the birds’s face is in the shadows. In the first image, the bird had turned its head a little bit and the light was shining more directly on its face and produced a nice catchlight in its eye.
When I am taking photos of birds, I usually shoot in short bursts, because even perched birds around a lot and each movement may result in a different expression and pose.
Last Friday at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife RefugeI captured this fun little image of a Yellow-rumped Warbler (Setophaga coronata) in mid-air as it hopped to a new position on a tree with colorful fall foliage. I am pretty sure that the warbler was stationary when I clicked off a short burst of shots and luck played a big role in me being able to capture this moment.
As I was walking along on one of the trails at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge last Friday, I noticed a large spider coming in my direction at a pretty good clip. I gave the spider plenty of space, but managed to capture this image of what I believe is a Wolf Spider with my long telephoto lens.
Wolf spiders belong to the family Lycosidae and are among the most common spider species found around the world. According to an article entitled “Wolf Spider: Friend or Foe?” wolf spiders “are keen hunters that chase or pounce on prey like wolves rather than spin a web and wait for a meal. Unlike wolves hunting as packs, wolf spiders generally live and hunt alone. Hunting occurs both day and night.”
Autumn Meadowhawk dragonflies (Sympetrum vicinum) love to perch on the ground and at this time of the year the ground is covered with fallen leaves in many places. Most of those leaves are brown, which makes for pretty good shots, but I am always hoping that an Autumn Meadowhawk will choose to perch on a more colorful red or yellow leaf. Last Wednesday at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge, I was fortunate when one of these colorful little dragonflies landed on a yellow leaf and I captured the first image.
Although the second and third images feature brown leaves, I love the textures and shapes of those leaves. I also like the way that the drabness of the leaves helps the bright red of the dragonfly’s body really stand out.
At this time of the year, most of my photographic subjects are likely to be birds, so I tend to walk around with my Tamron 150-600mm telephoto zoom lens on my camera. Although a long telephoto lens my not be my first choice for photographing such a small subject—an Autumn Meadowhawk is about 1.3 inches (33 mm) in length—I can get pretty good results if I am really careful in steadying the lens and paying attention to the focus point. All three of these images, for example, were shot with the lens fully extended to 600mm.
I almost never get an unobstructed view of a warbler. Most of the time I see them flitting about in the foliage, making it difficult to get a clear shot of one. If I am lucky, I manage to capture an image, like the final one, when the warbler pokes its head out of the brush for a moment.
Last Wednesday at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge, I was shocked and delighted when I was able to take a series of unobstructed shots of a Yellow-rumped Warbler (Setophaga coronata) as it was feeding on some poison ivy berries. The first three images shows some moments from that encounter.
As I look at these four images, I am strangely drawn most to the final one. Despite the clutter of the branches in that shot, the warbler stand out—the branches serve as a kind of frame for the central subject. Now I really do like the way that the first two images capture the action of the bird and the way the third shot provides the best view of the perching warbler, but someone the environmental shot appeals to me most this morning as I am composing this posting. What do you think?
I chased this orange butterfly for quite some time on Wednesday at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge and was delighted when it chose to land on top of a fallen leaf. The warm oranges and browns of the butterfly are a wonderful match for the autumn season and the fallen down leaves that now litter the landscape.
I could not immediately identify the butterfly, but when I got home I was able to determine that it is a Variegated Fritillary butterfly (Euptoieta claudia). My car windshield was covered with frost yesterday morning—autumn is definitely here and I suspect that my insect sightings will be decreasing sharply soon.
I couldn’t get very close to this Belted Kingfisher (Megaceryle alcyon) at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge last week, but I was happy to get a few long-distance shots before it flew away. Kingfishers are incredibly skittish and often my first indication of the presence of one is when I see or hear it flying away from me.
Generally I prefer to photograph birds that are perched on natural objects, but in this case I really like the geometric shape of the wooden structure that was sticking out of the water. Considering that I took these shots from a long way off, I was happy to be able to capture some of the grain of the wood and the bolt that held the boards to the post. I think this might have been part of a former duck blind, though it is hard to know for sure where it came from.
I am hoping to see this kingfisher again and perhaps will manage to get some closer shots the next time. Like most wildlife photographers, I am always thinking of my next shots, confident that I can capture better images on future outings.
I was concentrating so intently on photographing the large eagle nest at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge last Wednesday that I almost missed the Bald Eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) that was sitting in the nest. This nest is really deep and during nesting season it is hard to tell if one or more of the eagles are inside of it. The nesting season ended quite some time ago, so I definitely did not expect to see the nest occupied at this time of the year.
The second shot is the one that I was intending to capture. I liked the way that the red leaves were creeping up the side of the trees holding the nest and that was what I was I was photographing. If you look really carefully, you can just see a bit of the yellow beak of the eagle stick out from behind the leftmost tree, but I did not notice it at the time I took the shot.
After I had taken a few shots, I continued on the trail a half dozen steps, seeking to photograph the nest from a different angle. It was only then that I spotted a bit of bright white that turned out to be the eagle’s head. The eagle was hidden really well, but appeared have positioned itself so as to be able to keep an eye on what was happening around it.
I captured a series of images, but the eagle’s head was blocked by the nest and/or the leaves in most of them. Fortunately, the eagle was moving its head from side to side and eventually I managed to capture a shot in which we can see the eagle’s eye pretty clearly.
Quite often in my wildlife photography, I detect the subject only because of its movement, but in this case, the subject was stationary and it was the difference in color of the eagle’s head that allowed me to spot it. As you can probably guess, my eyes are moving constantly when I am out with my camera, searching high and low, near and far, and left to right for potential subjects to photograph.
Last Wednesday I spotted this beautiful little Eastern Comma butterfly (Polygonia interrogationis) at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge. It struck me that the butterfly’s colors are a perfect match for this autumn season.
I really like this image. When I posted in on my Facebook page, the word “contrast” keep coming up in the comments of my viewers. Some noted the contrast in colors, while others commented on the contrast in textures. I think that the downward-facing pose of the butterfly and the rather unusual shape of its wings also causes people to pause for a moment as their brains try to process what they are seeing.
Years ago I remember reading a post by a fellow blogger, Lyle Krahn, who used the term “stopping power.” Although he was referring to subjects that you found interesting enough that you would stop to take a photo, I think that it applies equally well to viewers. What makes a photo compelling enough that a viewer will stop and examine it, rather than simply scrolling on to the next posting?
We are constantly inundated with visual images that compete for our attention, but so often they affect us only superficially. It is my challenge as a photographer to capture and/or create images that help you to see the world in a different, deeper way, that prompt you to slow down and experience the beauty that surrounds you.
As noted American photographer Dorothea Lange stated, ““The camera is an instrument that teaches people how to see without a camera.”
Usually when I am taking a photograph, I have a specific subject. Sometimes, though, I try to capture something that is harder to describe, like the effects of light or of an atmospheric condition.
Last Monday I visited Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge in the early morning and was fascinated by the mist hanging over the water that was gradually starting to dissipate as the sun rose higher in the sky. I really like the way that the first image turned out when I pointed my camera towards the water and the land forms in the distance.
Looking in another direction, I saw some Canada Geese, most of which appear to be sleeping and were partially shrouded by the mist. In the distance I could see a bit of fall color, which was reflected in the water.
Turning to the land, I couldn’t help but notice the beautiful rays of early morning light that were piercing through the foliage and the mist. It was tough to capture the effect, but hopefully the final photo gives you a sense of what I was seeing and feeling.
These are definitely not the typical kinds of photos that I take, but I was inspired by the conditions of the moment to try some different approaches and am content with the results.
I was thrilled to spot this Blue-faced Meadowhawk dragonfly (Sympetrum ambiguum), one of my favorite species, this past Wednesday at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge. The dragonfly was cooperative and let me get pretty close with my Tamron 180mm macro lens and capture some of the amazing details of this colorful dragonfly, like its tiny feet and the little hairs on its legs.
I personally find the combination of the bright red body and the blue eyes to be stunningly irresistible and I look forward to spotting this species each autumn. If you click on either of the two images, you will be able to see some of the individual facets that make up the compound eyes. I have always wondered what it would be like to see the world through the eyes of a dragonfly.
I really like the description of a dragonfly’s sight that I found in a fascinating article by a writer called GrrlScientist that I encourage you to read. She wrote,
“Each compound eye is comprised of several thousand elements known as facets or ommatidia. These ommatidia contain light sensitive opsin proteins, thereby functioning as the visual sensing element in the compound eye. But unlike humans, day-flying dragonfly species have four or five different opsins, allowing them to see colors that are beyond human visual capabilities, such as ultraviolet (UV) light. Together, these thousands of ommatidia produce a mosaic of “pictures” but how this visual mosaic is integrated in the insect brain is still not known.”
I had to search hard to find this dragonfly and it was the only one of its species that I saw that day. At this time of the year few dragonflies are still flying. However, I am not ready to call it quits for the dragonfly season, though the end is drawing near.
It looks like all of the summer dragonflies are gone. During three treks with my camera this week, I have not spotted any of the species that were common during the summer.
Fortunately, there are a few autumn species that hang on long after the summer species are gone. This week I was pleased to see some Autumn Meadowhawk dragonflies (Sympetrum vicinum), which in the past have been present as late as December.
The dragonfly in the first photo is a male Autumn Meadowhawk that I photographed yesterday at Jackson Miles Abbott Wetland Refuge. Each year when I see them I are struck by their small size—they are only about 1.3 inches (33mm) in length. Mature males are a bright reddish-orange in color and have beautiful brown eyes, a perfect color combination for the season.
Female Autumn Meadowhawks are less conspicuous and have a two-toned tan and red coloration. I spotted the female in the second photo on Wednesday at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge. Generally I see a lot more male Autumn Meadowhawks than females, so I was happy to be able to photograph this one, which also happened to be my first Autumn Meadowhawk of the season.
Warblers have tiny feet, though I usually can’t see them in my photos, because they are perched high in the trees. On Monday I was fortunate to capture a series of images of a Yellow-rumped Warbler (Setophaga coronata) at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge that was perched relatively low in the vegetation and you can actually see its feet.
The warbler was in almost constant motion and gave me a whole variety of poses in a very short period of time. Here are some of my favorites from my mini portrait session with this beautiful little Yellow-rumped Warbler.
Warblers in the fall tend to be pretty drab, compared to those that pass through in the spring in their bright breeding plumage. However, the colorful fall foliage more than makes up for the birds’ lack of color when I am lucky enough to get clear shots of these little beauties.
On Monday I spotted quite a few Yellow-rumped Warblers (Setophaga coronata) at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge . Unlike most other warblers that are in our area for only a short period of time as they migrate, Yellow-rumped Warblers overwinter with us, according to a conversation I had in the past with a birder. I have photographed them, for example, in mid-January.
These three images show different types of autumn color. The first photo is full of bright pops of cheerful colors. The second one isolates a single color of the foliage and features a warbler feeding on what I believe are poison ivy berries. The final photo provides a more somber take on the autumn colors, evoking in me a wistful sense of the passing of the summer season.
I was quite happy with these shots of the warblers, especially considering my relative lack of success in the past, when I have often heard warblers singing, but have rarely been able to capture images of them.
On Monday at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge I stumbled upon a pair of Eastern Garter Snakes (Thamnophis sirtalis sirtalis). Their bodies were intertwined and were undulating. Now I do not know much about the mating practices of snakes, but I assume that was what they were doing.
I got down really low to take the first shot, which gives a close-up view of the head of one of the snakes that appears to be smiling—I believe that this one, which is clearly the smaller of the two, is the male snake.
According to an article by Sue Pike, “Garter snakes bear live young instead of laying eggs. In fact, in most live-bearing snakes, the females are considerably larger than the males. Since a larger female can carry more babies, and larger litter size mean a greater chance of survival for some of the offspring; natural selection will favor larger females. Females also tend to be more bulky and less active than males since they need to conserve their energy for reproduction. Males tend to be skinnier, more active and smaller than the females because, in the wild, their excess energy is used to chase females.”
The second shot shows the bodies of the two snakes when I came upon them—they look almost like they were braided together. I encourage you to click on the image to get a closer look at the beautiful patterns on the bodies of these snakes.
As I was making a little video of the two snakes, they were joined by a third garter snake. This snake, which I think is another male, slithered along the entire length of the intertwined bodies, looking for an opening. Somehow I thought the new snake would be more aggressive, but he was actually quite gentle. He ended up with his body stretched out as part of the intricate braid.
I have embedded the one-minute-long YouTube video at the end of this posting. In the video you can see the undulating bodies of the two snakes and the arrival and subsequent actions of the third snake. If you cannot see the embedded video, you can use this link (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bgKIKLVeOVg) to access it directly on YouTube.
I love to watch Great Blue Herons (Ardea herodias). Most of the time when I see them, they are standing motionless in the water, watching and waiting for prey to come within range. We both stand there, waiting for a decisive moment when the heron will strike.
When I spotted this heron last Friday, he was in shallow water, water that was much to shallow for it to be able to catch a large fish. The heron was hunched over and was making multiple strikes, but I could not tell if they were successful. From the angle at which I was shooting, the heron’s bill looked cartoonishly long and its body seemed much more compact and squat than normal.
Finally, as you can see in the second photo, the heron caught something big enough for me to see. The heron flipped the little fish into the air and I managed to capture the moment when the fish was in mid-air, just before the heron gulped it down. The positioning of the heron and the direction of the light made the heron’s mouth look a bit like that of a mini-pelican.
Later that same day I spotted a Great Blue Heron standing in some colorful vegetation that hid its lower body. Unlike the first heron that seemed to be having fun, this second heron seemed to be stern and intense as it surveyed the marshland. I really like the way that the vegetation in both the foreground and the background was blurred, which draws the viewer’s attention directly to the heron.
Perspective and timing really matter. In the first photo, the Black Swallowtail (Papilio polyxenes) is immediately recognizable as a butterfly. When the butterfly opened its wings wider and I took the second shot, however, I captured an image that forces viewers to pause for a second to process what their eyes are seeing. We are so used to seeing butterflies with wings fully visible that we may not immediately recognize a butterfly when the angle of the shot causes the wings to virtually disappear. The final image is a more “normal” view of the butterfly on a different perch.
I spotted this Black Swallowtail butterfly last Friday as I was wandering about at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge. Dragonflies were pretty scarce that day, so it was nice to see so many butterflies still flying. That day was nice and warm, but since then our temperatures have been lower than average—it is currently 40 degrees (4 degrees C) as I write this posting at 5:30 in the morning and today’s high is forecast to be about 65 degrees (18 degrees C). Autumn has definitely arrived.
This past Friday I was delighted to spot this Question Mark butterfly (Polygonia interrogationis) during a visit to Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge. Although these butterflies are with us the entire year—they overwinter as adults—I do not see them all that often. Question Mark butterflies (and their “cousins,” the Eastern Comma butterflies) hang out mostly in the woods, where their drab coloration helps them to blend in with the bark and the dried leaves of the trees, as you can see in the second photo.
I was particularly happy with the first shot, because it lets you see both the drab outer wing and the gorgeous orange and black of the inner wing. I was shooting with my Tamron 150-600mm, which is sometimes a little soft at the long end of the zoom, but managed to capture a good amount of detail nonetheless.
The butterfly’s warm orange coloration seems to be a perfect match for the season, as displays of pumpkins have start to appear.
At this time of the year, I sometimes complain that the leaves that are still on the trees prevent me from spotting birds. While that is definitely true for small birds like warblers, Great Blue Herons (Ardea herodias) are so big that it is hard to miss them when they are perched in a tree, even when they are partially hidden by the foliage.
Last week I was walking down one of the trails at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge when I heard the unmistakable squawk of a Great Blue Heron. It is hard to describe this distinctive sound, but the Farmer’s Almanac website did so with these words, “The Great Blue Herons “squawk” or croak has an almost prehistoric sound. If you surprise this bird as it is hunting on the water, it will squawk as it leaves, almost as if it’s annoyed by your disturbance.”
After hearing the squawk, I watched as the Great Blue Heron landed in a nearby tree. There was a good deal of foliage between me and the heron, which helped to conceal my presence, but it made it tough for me to get a clear shot of this big bird. Eventually I managed to capture some shots of the heron in a number of different poses. The background is pretty cluttered, but it helps to give you a good sense of the environment in which I found this Great Blue Heron.
Unlike Great Egrets, which migrate south for the winter, Great Blue Herons remain with us throughout the year. Do not be surprised if you see a few more heron shots in the upcoming months. As the leaves fall from the trees and many other birds depart, I suspect that I will be spending more time observing Great Blue Herons.
Quite often when I am walking through grassy fields, the ground in front of me seems to explode with grasshoppers arcing through the air in all directions. Last week during a visit to Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge, I managed to capture images of two of them.
I am not certain of the species of the formidable looking grasshopper in the first photo. When I looked through sources on line, however, it looked most like an American Bird Grasshopper (Schistocerca americana). Grasshoppers like this always make me think of medieval knights, suited up in protective armor.
The insect in the second image is almost certainly a katydid, and not a grasshopper—the extremely long antennae are often an easy identification feature. I love the brilliant green of the katydid’s body and its matching green eyes. There are lots of different kinds of katydids and I do not know to which species “my” katydid belongs.
We have had a lot of rainy weather recently and temperatures have noticeably dropped. Today’s forecast calls for intermittent rain and a high temperature of only 50 degrees (10 degrees C). I wonder if this cool, rainy period will mark the end of the season for some of the insects that I have been photographing during the past few months.
As many of you probably realize, I generally do not spend much time photographing landscapes and focus primarily on insects, in the warmer months, and birds, in the colder months. This past Wednesday, however, I was absolutely captivated by the clouds and tried to capture them in both landscape and seascape images at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge. I used my Canon 7D for the first two images and shot the panorama in the final shot with my iPhone 11.
As I look at these images, I can’t help but think that I should keep my eyes open more often for opportunities to take landscape shots. Last year I managed to capture some of the fall foliage in Virginia when I traveled to Shenandoah National Park and I may try to do so again later this month. There is a chance, though, that I will miss the peak color, because I will be driving to Austin, Texas near the end of the month for a wedding.
I was delighted this past Wednesday to spot several Monarch butterflies (Danaus plexippus) during a visit to Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge. I often see news stories about Monarchs being threatened or becoming endangered, so I am happy whenever I see some. The ones that I saw looked to be in perfect condition—perhaps they have recently emerged and are preparing for migration.
I tried several different angles when photographing this Monarch. The first photo shows the detail of the butterfly best, but I really like the way that I was able to capture the curve of the vegetation in the second shot by shooting in a vertical format.
On Wednesday I spotted a small group of a half-dozen of so Common Green Darner dragonflies (Anax junius) patrolling over a large field at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge. Common Green Darners are one of few species of dragonflies that migrate. Perhaps the ones that I saw are preparing to migrate from the local area or are just stopping off on their journey southward.
It is a fun challenge to point your camera toward the sky and to try and capture photos of these colorful dragonflies as they zoom overhead. The first image is the sharpest image that I was able to capture and it provides a good look at the dragonfly. In many ways, though, I am even happier with the second and third image that include some vegetation and help to provide some context to the shots.
The migration cycle of the Common Green Darner involves three generations. I highly recommend a research article entitled “Tracking dragons: stable isotopes reveal the annual cycle of a long-distance migratory insect” that was published in 2018 in the journal Biology Letters that explains the migration cycle and has some fascinating maps and diagrams. Despite the geeky-sounding title, it is actually quite easy to read and understand.
Here is an extract from the abstract for the article, in case you do not want to read the entire article:
“Using stable-hydrogen isotope analysis of 852 wing samples from eight countries spanning 140 years, combined with 21 years of citizen science data, we determined the full annual cycle of a large migratory dragonfly, the common green darner (Anax junius). We demonstrate that darners undertake complex long-distance annual migrations governed largely by temperature that involve at least three generations. In spring, the first generation makes a long-distance northbound movement (further than 650 km) from southern to northern range limits, lays eggs and dies. A second generation emerges and returns south (further than 680 km), where they lay eggs and die. Finally, a third resident generation emerges, reproducing locally and giving rise to the cohort that migrates north the following spring. Since migration timing and nymph development are highly dependent on temperature, continued climate change could lead to fundamental changes in the biology for this and similar migratory insects.”
Yesterday I was delighted to spot another Blue-faced Meadowhawk dragonfly (Sympetrum ambiguum), one of my favorite dragonflies, while wandering the trails at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge. The previous one that I saw earlier this month was perched high in a tree, so it was difficult for me to get a good shot of it.
The newest Blue-faced Meadowhawk, a male, was perched on the ground amid the leaf litter, which is where I usually see this species. I love the way that the fallen leaves provide an instant indication that we are now in the autumn season. The drab brown color of those leaves really helps to make the bright red and blue of this spectacular dragonfly really pop.
It was almost impossible to blur out the background completely, but I got low and carefully chose an angle that makes the clutter a bit less distracting. It turned out that this was the only Blue-faced Meadowhawk, so I was happy that I managed to get some decent shots of this one before he flew away.
Generally I prefer to photography my wildlife subjects in natural surrounding and often try to frame my shots so that they do not include manmade elements. During a recent visit to Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge, I inadvertently spooked a small bird, which looks to me to be a juvenile Eastern Bluebird (Sialia sialis), and I watched as it flew to a tall wooden post. I looked at it as a mixed blessing, because I had a clear view of the bird, even though the perch was manmade.
I captured this image when the bluebird turned its head to look at me. I really like the way that the composition of this modest little image turned out. I remember moving a bit to make sure that the sky was in the background, but hadn’t really counted on the background being as pleasantly blurred as it is. The wires and other hardware attached to the post add some additional visual interest to the foreground without being too distracting.
As we approach the end of September, I am keeping a mental checklist of the dragonflies that I continue to see. Some species have already disappeared for the season. With other species, I see only the tattered survivors. There are a few other species that will remain with for at least another month.
Here are some shots of three of the dragonflies that I saw last Tuesday at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge. The first one is a colorful male Calico Pennant (Celithemis elisa). We are nearing the normal late date for this species, so I was particularly happy to see this dragonfly.
The second image shows a female Common Whitetail (Plathemis lydia), one of the most common dragonflies in our area. This species is always one of the first to appear in the spring and one of the last to disappear in the autumn.
The final photo shows a male Slaty Skimmer (Libellula incesta) perching in the vegetation at the edge of a pond. This species is probably the most common one that I see right now when I am visiting a pond. I thought about cropping the image a little closer, but decided I really like the pops of pinkish-purple provided by the flowers near the edge of the frame.
There are, of course, other species still around that I have featured in recent postings, such as the Russet-tipped Clubtail, the Blue-faced Meadowhawk, and the Prince Baskettail, as well as several others. I am still searching for my first Autumn Meadowhawk of the season, a small red dragonfly that is often the last species to disappear. I have seen Autumn Meadowhawks as late as the 3rd of December. If you want a sneak preview of what an Autumn Meadowhawk looks like, check out the December 2018 blog posting of that late sighting.
Carolina Chickadees (Poecile carolinensis) are small and active, so I rarely get a clear view of one of them, especially during the times of the year when there are leaves on the trees. Last week I was happy to get some photos of this chickadee at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge as I was searching for warblers.
The leaves in the first two images and the tiny acorns in the final photo provide indications of the change in seasons. Temperatures are really dropping as we approach the end of September and the leaves are just beginning to change colors. In my area, unfortunately, the leaves mostly tend to turn brown—the fall foliage is definitely not as bright and vibrant as the colors in New England, where I was born and grew up.
During a short period in the spring and again in the early autumn, migrating warblers move through the area in which I live. Occasionally I will manage to get a shot of one during the spring, when the warblers are sporting their colorful breeding plumages. During the autumn, however, their plumage is duller in color and the leaves on the trees block them from view, so I rarely see a warbler (though I can hear them) and even less frequently photograph one.
On Tuesday during a visit to Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge, I spotted a flash of yellow high in a tree. Although I did not get a good look at the bird itself, I knew immediately that it was some kind of warbler. I focused on the area in which the bird moving about and watched and waited, snapping off shots whenever even the slightest bit of yellow was visible.
I never did get an unobstructed shot of the warbler, but different shots helped me to identify various features of the bird. In the first photo, for example, I can see the gray head and white eye ring. In the second and third images, I can see the extent of the yellow underparts, the white wing bars, and the moderate streaking.
What kind of warbler is it? I went through my bird identification guide—I use the Peterson Field Guide to Birds of North America—and decided that it was possibly a Magnolia Warbler (Setophaga magnolia). I was uncertain of my identification, though, so I sought confirmation on a birding forum on Facebook. Shockingly I was correct in my identification. I think I have about a 50 percent success rate in correctly identifying warblers and similar birds.
I would love to get clear unobstructed close-up shots of these beautiful birds as some photographers are able to do, but I am quite content with these shots. They highlight for me the beauty and mystery of the warbler in what I consider to be its natural habitat.
I was thrilled yesterday to spot my first Blue-faced Meadowhawk dragonfly (Sympetrum ambiguum) of the season during a visit to Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge. Although there are reports of this dragonfly emerging in mid-summer, I tend to see them in September and October. I have repeatedly searched for Blue-faced Meadowhawks this month in areas of the refuge where I have seen them in past years, but had come up empty-handed until yesterday.
The Blue-faced Meadowhawk is somewhat uncommon in our area, according to the Dragonflies of Northern Virginia website, and “Although black rings over the top of the abdomen make this one of the easiest meadowhawks to ID in our area, it is in fact the rarest and hardest to find.” You would think that the bright red bodies would make them easy to spot, but they are pretty small (about 1.4 inches (36 mm) in length and blend in surprisingly well with the autumn foliage.
I absolutely love the striking colors of this dragonfly—the turquoise face, blue eyes, and red body—and consider it to be one of my favorites. It is also special to me too, because I took second place in a local photo contest in 2015 with a macro shot of a Blue-faced Meadowhawk. Check out this December 2015 posting to see that photo and learn the back story of how I overcame my inhibitions and entered the contest.
Normally I see Blue-faced Meadowhawks closer to the ground, but the yesterday’s subject was perched high in a tree. As you can see, I tried several slightly different shooting angles, but couldn’t get any closer. As it turned out, that was my sole sighting of a Blue-faced Meadowhawk for the day. I will probably return to the wildlife refuge next week to see if I can find some more of these beautiful dragonflies.
The season has ended for many dragonflies—many of the species that were present a month ago are now gone. From time to time, though, I will see a few strong survivors who are hanging on, like this female Needham’s Skimmer (Libellula needhami) that I spotted last week at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge. Though her wings are almost completely shredded, she still manage to fly, when necessary.
She somehow seemed to be content to turn to the light and enjoy the warmth of the sunlight, determined to enjoy life’s simple pleasures in her remaining days.