Hundreds of thousands.

Over the past three winters, I've taken hundreds of pictures of thousands of snow geese. The sheer size of the flocks, and their sudden juxtaposition with tidy suburbia makes them photo-worthy, but only up to point. I've taken enough shots of birds ravaging city parks. Here are attempts at finding something different.

A slightly more natural setting: an un-mown former farm field. I was trying to capture a sea of white backs fading into the distance. The birds about to land liven it up. Note the sunlit drops of water falling from their wings. More depth of field, especially foreground, would have helped.

Here is a fragment of a flock heading from the foreshore inland. I waited until the birds were above the mountain top, white above white against blue. The mountain with its hopeful, although non-productive, cloud is Cypress, where a few Olympic sites are seriously wanting for snow.

Heads down, mostly. The sunlight on their backs amid the tall, wind-combed grass was different. Alas, a mallard crashed the picture, as they are wont to do.

Harrier fly-by.

Wings dihedral.

Buoyant flight.

Owl-like face.

Rump-patch white.

Northern Harrier.

A week to go.

The Winter Olympics start a week today. The speed-skating oval in Richmond is ready and waiting for Stephen Colbert and other athletes. This is the view from half a mile downstream, along the Middle Arm of the Fraser River. Note the swooping roof line, with its digitate edges. It is meant to emulate the form of a heron's wings.

And again from a bit farther away on a sunnier day. Mountains have mysteriously arisen in the background.

Regals.

It was a sunny, warm morning, so I decided to play hooky. I went for a three-hour ride to Terra Nova. The eagles at the Quilchena Golf Course were being very cooperative in terms of photography, although one (likely the male; it's smaller) was giving the other a frosty stare.

I also saw a flying Merlin, which by the time I dismounted and unpacked my camera was a diminishing dot, and a Yellow-faced Bumblebee (Feb. 4!), which disappeared into the turf before I could photograph it.

Loitering, mostly.

In winter there are frequently Bald Eagles perched in the large cottonwoods next to the Vancouver Landfill. You can see them as you pass south of the dump along Highway 99 in Delta. I wondered what exactly drew them there. Was it the thousands of gulls that are drawn to the trash, or is it the trash itself?

It turns out people have studied this:

FORAGING ECOLOGY OF BALD EAGLES AT AN URBAN LANDFILL

It was determined that "Eagles fed primarily on human refuse (95%, n = 628), but food items taken from the landfill accounted for only 10 ± 3% of their daily energy needs. Subadults foraged at the landfill more often than adults, and most “refuse specialists” appeared to be subadults. Eagle time budgets consisted of mostly resting (91%), the remainder largely spent drinking (2.6%), scavenging (2.3%), and pirating (1.8%)."

So mostly, most are just hanging around, only occasionally snaring the odd tasty pork chop or sausage link. They may appreciate the relative warmth (of decomposition), the shelter of nearby conifers, and, who knows, the rumbling of big trucks? They are more likely to pirate a gull than eat one.

I now wonder if the majority look down their beaks at the "refuse specialists."

Reference:

KYLE H. ELLIOTT, JASON DUFFE, SANDI L. LEE, PIERRE MINEAU, JOHN E. ELLIOTT. 2006. FORAGING ECOLOGY OF BALD EAGLES AT AN URBAN LANDFILL. The Wilson Journal of Ornithology 118 (3), 380-390.

Among the trees.

Tai chi.

Festival of the Trees #44 is up at treeblog.

Parking lot ornithology.

We bought a new car, and decided to take it for a spin. I wanted somewhere scenic. The driver wanted somewhere shopping. So we headed across the border, which could provide both. The driver wanted to go a particular store. I had never heard of it. "You've been there before," she said. I had no recollection, until we got to the parking lot.

Male.

"Oh," I said. "You should have told me it was the store with the Brewer's Blackbirds in the parking lot."

Female.

For whatever reason, in that parking lot there are always Brewer's Blackbirds gathered in the spindly trees on the islands, and walking around among the cars.

The driver went shopping while I watched and listened to the birds. They are chatty, producing a mixture of "chacks" and squeaky whistles. They're totally charming, natty little things.

If you tell the border guards you are visiting America to go shopping, they will let you through without batting an eye. If you tell them you are going there to hang out in a parking lot with Brewer's Blackbirds...well, you'd better just tell them you're going shopping.