Rainy Sunday Whets Shutterbug's Appetite

That could be a headline in the local fishwrapper, the Rochester Dimbulb and Comical (or the Democrat and Chronicle as it's known by the less sardonically inclined). Maybe I have a future in the newspaper business. Does the job of headline writer pay very well, I wonder? And do they hire people who deride prospective employers?

Well, I'm writing this a little late. I had to do some work tonight (the kind I actually get paid for), since there doesn't seem to be enough hours in the work week to get everything done that needs doing. I'm not going to expend bytes discussing work, though. I'm here for the birds, and photography, and photographing birds.

It rained today. Pretty much all day in fact, so getting back out to Lyndonville to see the Northern Hawk Owl (Surnia ulula) was out of the question, much as I'd have enjoyed another look at the bird. The day wasn't a total loss though. One of the neighborhood Pileated woodpeckers (Dryocopus pileatus) made a suet stop early in the afternoon. I heard the distinctive call that announced her presence, and since I hadn't had a chance to shoot a Pileated with my new Canon (wow-- doesn't that have a violent ring to it?), I figured I'd take a few minutes out of my housecleaning to see what my EOS 20D could do.

The gray sky and rain made for some dim lighting, and even at ISO 400 with the aperture wide open at f5.6, the best shutter speed I could get was a terrapin-esque 1/50^thsec. exposure. Now, the feeding Pileated is in almost constant motion, so many of the shots I took featured the woodpecker's blurry head, but there were a few wherein my shutter finger and her bobbing head found synchronicity, so here they are:


8 megapixels worth of resolution is good for a lot more detail than the shots I got with my DX6490! I enjoyed this shot of the back of her head, because it shows off the tight point of her pileation so well:


After she ate she made a quick getaway up the trunk of a silver maple:

For that last shot I bumped the ISO up to 800 to see what kind of signal noise I'd get. At full resolution, the image showed some well-ordered noise, but nothing like the artifacts at ISO 400 or even 200 on my Kodak camera. This Canon is the real deal, and I can see that I'm going to have to work hard to be worthy of its capabilities.

Hawks, Falcons, and Postcards from Lyndonville

Friday's pleasant weather drew me outside at lunchtime and I met Carol, Dana and Larry O'Heron on the pedestrian bridge. It wasn't too long before one of the gorge's Red-tailed Hawks (Buteo jamaicensis) made a low pass just north of our position, heading east. In hot pursuit were several crows, and the hawk disappeared behind one of the the High Falls Brewery buildings. Dana and Carol went to investigate, leaving Larry and me to scan the skies of downtown Rochester. Larry pointed out another Red-tailed Hawk, then shouted excitedly that a falcon was giving chase! I followed where he pointed and sure enough, the distinctive anchor shape of a falcon resolved itself in my binoculars. The hawk had no stomach for a confrontation and it exited, stage left. Larry and I followed the falcon. It circled over the river a couple of times, then passed behind some buildings, heading toward the west. A few seconds later it landed on the Frontier Communications radio tower, much to Larry's shouted delight. It stayed less than a minute before launching again and heading southwest on a low trajectory that took it behind intervening buildings.

Of the falcon we saw nothing more, but the sighting was enough for me to say with a fair degree of confidence that it was Mariah. The size was right when it landed on the radio tower, and the behavior matches a falcon defending its territory. Since the banded mystery falcon hasn't exhibited any territorial behavior yet (at least no one has reported any), it seems reasonable to assume that it was Mariah that we saw.

Lisa McKeown joined us on the bridge and we reviewed the day's events. Meanwhile, the RT Hawk emerged from the brewery and headed downriver, chased again by a quartet of crows. Here's one that got pretty close:


It ended up on the catwalk of the middle RGE smokestack:


Meanwhile, two more(!) hawks appeared in the gorge. One flew upriver while the other headed for a landing in the trees on the east side of the gorge wall:

Things quieted down after that, and the rest of the hour passed uneventfully.

---

After my ambulance shift on Saturday, I drove out to Lyndonville in hope of seeing the Northern Hawk Owl (Surnia ulula). Lyndonville lies about 40 miles (64 km) west of Rochester, and I have to offer my gratitude to the people of that small town for tolerating the daily flow of birders who have come from near and far for a chance to see this unusual habitué. I arrived late in the afternoon to find only a dozen or so people lined up, binoculars and the odd spotting scope aimed toward the west. I parked, grabbed my camera, and joined them. To my delight, the owl was perched in a tree not far from the roadside, in pretty good light:



While we were admiring the great view, the owl suddenly dropped into the brush beneath its perch. It rose a moment later, a fat grey field mouse clutched in its bill:

It didn't stay in that tree very long before heading farther afield, landing amongst shadowy branches that made photography a challenging affair at best. I switched to binoculars, and passed the time talking photography with some fellow shutterbugs, including a former Kodaker (who had an excellent Nikon D2X mated to a 500mm f4 telephoto lens on an expensive Gitzo carbon-fiber tripod and rock-sturdy gimbal mount), and providing some background about the bird and its arrival to some of the less-experienced birders who had assembled. The owl nibbled at its meal for a bit before throwing its head back and swallowing the rodent whole.

Fortified by its supper, the owl left its perch and made a long flight, passing low over the roadway of Route 63. We assumed the bird was headed for the eastern fields, but to our surprise, it flapped upward and landed on a utility wire directly beside the road! It seemed utterly unconcerned as we scrambled for new positions. My memory card was nearly full and I was obliged to do some on-camera deleting (something I try to avoid) to make room for more shots. It was a worthwhile exercise. The owl was framed against a clear blue sky that even Arthur Morris would have approved. Here are a couple of my best shots:


I spent barely an hour there, but what an hour it was! My only regret is that I don't live closer (the drive out to Lyndonville takes nearly an hour from my home in Perinton) so that I could spend more time observing and photographing this most solicitious and beautiful visitor.

What Was I Saying About a Warm Winter?

You wouldn't know we were having a warmer than average winter by venturing outside today. My favorite Bard put it this way...

"Blow, blow thou winter wind,
thou art not so unkind as Man's ingratitude,
thy tooth is not so keen,
because thou art not seen,
although thy breath be rude."

Keen tooth and rude breath indeed! When I stepped out of the Kodak Office lobby just after Noon the temperature was a raw 14°F (-10°C), with a wind chill of only 4° (-16°C)! It was bright though, with high thin clouds that didn't hinder the anemic sun. I belted on my recently acquired Lowepro Street & Field Toploader holster that sheltered my Canon EOS 20D digital SLR and headed for the bridge. I made a quick reconnaissance of the RGE smokestacks and scanned the Kodak tower for the unlikely presence of a Peregrine. As I expected, I found none, so I proceeded to cross the Pont de Rennes bridge. I had to shade my eyes against both the bright sun and the harsh reflection from the light powdery snow that blanketed the ground and flew into the air behind each step. My search for raptors of any sort was uneventful until I spied Carol P at the west end of the bridge. She waved me over, and I could see that something on one of the buildings in the BeeBee station complex held her attention, so I ran to investigate.

Now, I've only owned my camera for about a week, and I've had the Lowepro gear only a day, so I'm still learning a lot. One thing I discovered is that even with cinch straps to keep the holster close to its weight-bearing belt, running with 3+ pounds (1.5kg) of camera, lens, binoculars and assorted accessories results in a lot of equipment bouncing around. I shoved the camera tight against my hip and persisted. As I drew nearer, the object of Carol's intent focus suddenly became clear:

A lovely Red-tailed Hawk (Buteo jamaicensis), perched only a few dozen yards away! Grannywood joined us and shutters clicked in earnest:
     

He surprised us by taking a short flight to the nearby corner of another building, where he was so close, we could almost reach out and touch him:
          

Our good fortune was bad for the hawk though, as the neighborhood Corvids decided they had nothing better to do than harrass him:


After a few diving passes by as many as 4 crows, the hawk had enough. He took off and flew between the buildings, emerging low over Morrie Silver way before he turned and headed toward the Kodak tower. We lost sight of him for several minutes, though the crows' noisy calls assured us that he was still in the area. Lisa McKeown joined us just as the hawk landed on the catwalk railing of the middle RGE smokestack:

The crows found him again, though, and he was obliged to abandon his perch. Back over the river he flew and we followed out onto the bridge once more. The hawk finally found a protected perch on the east side of the building where the Bru restaurant is located. We filled the lull in the action with a bit of photographic shenanigans:


We headed west for a closer look, and found a sheltered spot from which to shoot a few pictures. I was obliged to switch to a lower resolution for the remainder of my shots because I'm temporarily limited to a 128MB Compact Flash card, so the quality of these shots isn't quite as high as the ones above. I'm still well pleased, though:
     

Near the end of the noon hour the hawk decided to take to the air once again:


It seemed as good a time as any to end the chilly watch, so we packed up our gear and headed for the warmth of Kodak. Though frigid, the day was a great introduction to the capabilities of my new camera, the depths of which I've only begun to plumb. To end with another bit of Shakespeare...

"Then heigh ho the holly,
this life is most jolly."

Jolly indeed.

Spring in January and a Northern Hawk Owl Visit

Our unseasonably warm and green weather has continued almost unbroken for several weeks now. I suspect we're going to look back on this winter and find that it has been one of the mildest on record. Of course, there are still two months to go, and February is often the most brutal in these parts, but if the past month is any indicator, it looks like snow and bitter cold are going to be commodities in short supply for 2006.

I said the halcyon weather has been almost unbroken because we did get a brief, intense bout of snow about a week ago. Dawn's family came to visit and they just made it before the snow started, the temperature plunged, and the wind kicked up. We made the most of it with a surprise birthday party and ice skating. The birds didn't seem to mind either. Here's a visit from Dryocopus pileatus, back it seems, to stay:


The arrival of a rare visitor has the birding community around here as giddy as a flock of schoolgirls. A Northern Hawk Owl (Surnia ulula) has been gracing us with its presence for the last few weeks. It's taken up residence in the town of Lyndonville, on the Niagara-Orleans County border, not too far from the town of Wilson where I grew up. My job schedule and other considerations have kept me away, but Dawn and I finally took the hour long drive out to the intersection of Rt 63 and Rt 18 to see if we could add another raptor to our life lists. We arrived just after 3:00PM, and we weren't alone. Thirty or more people lined the west side of the road, a long queue of parked cars occupied the eastern shoulder. Almost immediately, we met a number of Kodak falcon fans, among them Loretta Morrell, Carol P, Joyce, Marcia, Greg and Kim, Suzette and Paul Woods, and several more whose names are escaping me at the moment. The light wasn't the best, but we were able to get some fantastic views through our scope and binocs. When we arrived, the owl was perched in a tree just off the street:


True to the reports, the owl did not seem overly concerned at the presence of several dozen fans wielding cameras, scopes and binoculars. When it took off for a perch farther off, it was time to get out the digiscoping gear. My first attempt was a little soft, but I had better luck with my second shot:
     

The owl was captured and banded shortly after it arrived. The banders determined that it is a young adult, still undergoing its molt, but due to a fairly broad variation in size, sexing the bird based on in-hand observation alone proved to be unsuccessful. It's presence has not gone without controversy, either. A few well-meaning, but (IMHO) misguided individuals released live mice into the nearby fields to tempt the owl into flight for photo-ops. The fields of Lyndonville are providing plenty of food for the owl, and this deliberate baiting of the bird strikes me as excessive. A member of a local birding list suggested that this activity was no different than setting out Black-oil sunflower seeds to entice Chickadees, and I suppose in the strictest sense there's some truth to that, but I can't shake the conviction that there's an ethical boundary somewhere that's being tread upon unnecessarily, especially since this bird is a killer. I just don't think we ought to be feeding a bird that can hunt just fine on its own, particularly when the goal is simply to benefit the paparazzi.

OK, off my soapbox and back to the owl...

Not unexpectedly, it was in hunting mode the entire time we were there, and it flew several times in search of better vantages from which to pursue its prey. The best views of that afternoon came when the owl landed in a tree behind a house. The homeowner came out and approached to within no more than 30 feet of the owl, snapping her fill of photos with her compact digital camera. Unperturbed, the bird held its place for several minutes, then swooped down low. The crowd of watchers moved farther north to reaquire it, and we found the owl perched in a tree just off a long gravel road that led into the fields. Several intrepid photographers (some with prodigous lenses and camera setups that made me drool) headed down the path and I followed, leaving Dawn to view the owl through our excellent Kowa scope. Shutters clicked as the bird turned this way and that, and we were treated to some fantastic photographic opportunities. I tried not to waste them.
          

Dawn and I were struck by the owl's intense gaze, and the effortless grace of its short flights. We weren't fortunate enough to hear its characteristic ululating calls, but we ended the day's watching with a greater appreciation of nature's awe and majesty for having the priviledge of observing such a magnificent bird. I hope it will stay around a while longer, so that we can have another such opportunity.

And now for something completely different... I'm happy to say that after an absense of many years, I've re-entered the world of SLR photography! The last component of my new camera system arrived today, so henceforth you'll see most of my handheld shots will be courtesy of my Canon EOS 20D camera and EF-L 100-400mm image-stabilized zoom lens! The combination of 8MP images and the long reach of that zoom promise some great pictures this year, if only I can be equal to the quality of my equipment. More to come soon...

It's Been a While...

...since I've posted an update. Frankly, it's been a busy fall, and time passed awfully fast. One afternoon in November Dawn and I were out walking the dogs and as we emerged from the path beside the Erie Canal where we take our canine ambulations, the sun was just setting as a gibbous moon appeared over the nearby woodland. I ran for my camera and managed a couple of shots:
     

The pictures don't really do justice to the scene, which had intense reds and golden hues in the trees from the dusk light.

I put my camera away and didn't think about it much until Christmas time rolled around. Here's our Malamute Quest getting into the holiday spirit:

He's grown to be a big boy, though even at nearly 2 years old he still has plenty of puppy personality.

So there I was, thinking about what great weather we were having for mid January. Of course, warm winters have their downsides, too. My favorite backyard bird, the always plucky Pileated Woodpecker (Dryocopus pileatus) has been very scarce. I started hearing their familiar and welcome calls a couple of weeks ago, and they've been making more frequent visits in the past few days. Yesterday as I was pulling into the driveway from coming home, I spotted a female on one of our silver maple trees. She stayed as I pulled into the garage, so I went for my camera. In the fading light, I had to shoot at only 1/20^th sec, and most of my shots were blurred, either due to the almost constant motion of the feeding bird at our suet feeder or my own shakiness. I was able to get a couple of worthwhile shots, though. Here's the best of them:


Whereas the temperature is usually measured in single degrees (on the Celsius scale, at least), we've been treated to a downright balmy season thus far. Today, the mercury topped out at 58°F/14°C, and it was a real pleasure to get outside at lunchtime to enjoy some of the fresh air, and of course, the company of fellow birders. Dan Stiehler and Kathy Gucchione were out on the Pont de Rennes bridge when I arrived shortly after noon. On the way, I spotted the male Red Tailed Hawk (Buteo jamaicensis)that has been hanging around the High Falls gorge. He was perched on the catwalk of the middle RGE smokestack, easy prey for my Kodak DX6490:
     

On the bridge we were soon joined by Carol P and Grannywood, and we turned our attention to the skies. It wasn't too long before Dan spotted something flying downtown. Sure enough, there was a falcon silhouetted against the blue sky, sailing above the Hyatt hotel. It played on the updrafts a while, then went into a shallow dive-- the hunt was on! An explosion of Rock Doves burst into the air, the darker, larger shape of the falcon darting among them, wheeling in the air, wings pumping hard for attack after attack. We watched as the pursuit moved behind the nearby buildings, and the terrified flock reappeared in the space between the Four Sesasons tower and another building nearby. The falcon kept darting in and out of view until, for just a second another falcon appeared! Behind the Four Seasons building they disappeared once more, and this time neither falcon nor pigeons reappeared. Either the hunt had been successful, or the raptors tired of their chase. In any event, it made for an exciting noontime.

Lisa McKeown had joined us during the chase, and the speculation began immediately. Was it Mariah and Kaver hunting, or could one of the falcons have been the recently discovered mystery bird that's been hanging around downtown? We were much too far away to make anything approaching a positive ID, so we'll have to be satisfied with the enigma for the time being.

Fortunately, our attention was soon re-occupied by the Red tail, who had moved to the top of a lamppost near the High Falls observation deck. Carol, Granny and I decided to take a walk for a closer look, leaving Lisa and Dan on the bridge. There was a man on the observation deck mere feet from the hawk. He left as we approached, and we anticipated some up close photo time with the buteo. Unfortunately, his paparazzi radar must have been on alert, because we didn't get more than a few more steps before he took off:


He flew downriver, passing low over the bridge where Dan and Lisa had a terrific view. He made a couple of passes before heading north and out of sight:


We went back to the bridge, but he was nowhere to be found. The hour was nearly up and the sky was graying fast, so Carol, Granny and I headed back to work. I'm looking forward to getting back into my birding habits. If the warm weather keeps up, it looks like I'll be spending plenty more lunches enjoying the sights around the High Falls.