Thursday, January 18, 2018

Derailed by a Bug

Varied Thrush
Oh, so much fog and clouds this winter, and yet, we are way shy on rain.  We try to take advantage of each sunny day.  Today promises sun – once the fog burns off.  We decide to go to the coast hoping to photograph varied thrushes.   They are common along the coast in the winter time.  Varied thrushes remind me a lot of robins, but they are much fussier about their habitat and their song is so very different.  Instead of singing a long musical soliloquy like their cousin, the varied thrush pipes just a few ethereal flute-like notes .  I hardly ever get to hear one because I don’t live where they breed.  At least they come down to the valleys to winter.

Just over fifty years ago Dale and I arrived in Alaska.  When we stepped off the ferry in Ketchikan our first new and delightful discovery on our Alaska adventure was the song of the varied thrush.  We fell in love with their sweet, simple song. 

So off to the coast today to see some varied thrushes.  They won’t be singing, but the lawns at Shore Acres State Park will almost surely have thrushes poking around on the short grass. 

We swing into the park to quickly verify the thrushes are there, but then we go to another spot about a mile away to eat lunch and watch for whale spouts.  All is well with the whales (grey whales are migrating south to their breeding grounds right now).
Backswimmer

While we are eating, we occasionally hear a tap on our windshield.  Backswimmers are on the wing and are attracted to our shiny glass.  Do you know what a backswimmer is?  It is a little bug about one half inch long, who rows around, upside down, underwater.  His paddles are two specially adapted hind legs.  Backswimmers remind my of a one-man racing boat.  Our windshield must look like water to the backswimmers.  One after another lands briefly, then takes off again.  I can just imagine they are a little embarrassed by their mistake.

Soon it is time to head back to the thrushes …… but first I want a quick stop at a small puddle in the ditch next to the road.  The puddle is only about 2 feet x 6 feet, but nearly always has water thanks to a seep.  What will be in it today?

I quickly realize the puddle is a bonanza of activity.  Two weeks ago it was dulls-ville, but today it has a good population of whirlygigs (small, black beetles that zip around on the surface of pond water, often in clusters) and backswimmers.  I’ve hardly arrived, when another backswimmer comes flying in and zips into the water in a flash.  The pond seems to swallow it.  Another comes in and another.
 
Water Boatman -- this one landed on wet asphalt so I was able to get his photo.

 … and then a little guy flies in.  Much smaller.  This one seems to struggle a bit to get beneath the surface – it’s a water boatman.  Water boatmen are the small cousins of backswimmers.  They have the good sense to swim upright, but, they too, spend most of their time underwater.  They like to hide in the muck where they find their food.  Both backswimmers and water boatmen come to the surface, grab an air bubble, and can stay underwater for long periods. 
A Predacious Diving Beetle -- Colymbetes sp. 
 But that isn’t all.  A half inch brown-colored diving beetle flies in and immediately zips underwater.  After we return home I submit our beetle photo to www.BugGuide.net and soon learn it is Colymbetes sp, one of many predacious diving beetles.  Ours is the first photo of this genus submitted to Bug Guide from Oregon.  Tiny striations across its back separates this genus from many other diving beetles. 

It is the middle of winter, yet this especially mild, sunny day has triggered all kinds of activity.  I never expected today would be a good day for insect watching.   Most people in the park are here to watch the whales.  As far as I’m concerned, far off whales can’t compete with little bugs right at my toes. 
 
Backswimmer -- upright on the surface of the water.


I stand still and realize the pond has another surprise for me.  There is a backswimmer upright, on top of the surface of the pond.  I’ve always watched them upside down in the water.  A moment later there are two on the surface.  A car comes by, throwing a shadow on the pond, and poof!  They are underwater again. 

All is quiet and I watch while one after another backswimmer floats, belly up, near the surface and suddenly does a roll onto the surface  -- a roll that would make any kayaker proud.  Any good kayaker knows the importance of being able to upright themselves once they have been flipped.  Soon I’ve got over a dozen backswimmers flipped over onto the surface of my little pond.  One flies off. 

Another car comes along.  Most dive underwater again, but two more take to the air.  I’ve seen backswimmers flying before, but not often.  Whenever I do, there seems to be a lot on the wing, such as today.  Interesting that the water boatmen and at least two kinds of aquatic beetles are flying too.  This must be a good time of year to disperse to new locations. 


…. And the thrushes?  I confess, the insects kept us so busy time got away from us.  We headed back to Shore Acres Park to hunt down our varied thrushes,  but found the park was already closing for the day.  No matter.  We’ll just have to try for the thrushes another day.

Saturday, January 6, 2018

New Year Musings 2018

This is supposed to be a nice note celebrating the New Year.  I know, I know.  I’m a little late but we still have a lot of year to go so I suspect you’ll forgive me.


My owl looking off into the dusk represents looking back on the year just past.  I love owls ... all owls.  Seeing an owl always makes my heart sing.  Just hearing one lifts my spirits.  This past year may not have been perfect, but there was a lot of good in it .... just like I don’t get to see an owl everyday, but when I do, I appreciate it and look forward to the next.  
The bald eagles are looking forward to the year ahead.  They appear on page one of a new sketchbook.  There is a little reservoir just a few miles from here where we often see the two eagles hanging out during the winter.  Breeding season comes early for eagles.   We’re already seeing them sitting close to each other. 

I don’t usually start a new sketchbook at the New Year.  It just happened that way.  My 9x6 ‘hiking sketchbook’ had just filled up.  There is a feeling of anticipation when I start a new sketchbook or journal.  I’ve heard other artists comment that they feel intimidated by that first page.  All that blank white paper waiting for the first stroke.  I only get that way when I’ve splurged on an especially fancy sketchbook.  Meanwhile I’m itching to start filling my pages.  My only rule is I keep my ‘working sketchbooks’ for my own life – they are a reflection of my life.  If I’m working on a project for something else, the art goes somewhere else.  When I open my sketchbook and see a chickadee, that chickadee brings back a specific memory.  I may have drawn it from life or I may have drawn it from a photo I took that day .... but it comes from my life, from my heart.  

I just need to thumb through old sketchbooks I see highlights of years past.  My time appreciating nature is precious to me.  I feel very fortunate to have the opportunity to see as much as I do. 

In my Christmas mail this year a good friend asked me, “Do you ever get a wild hair and desire to visit other parts of the world?.... Aren’t you just a tiny bit curious?” 

That got me to pondering on just who I am and what I want.  When I started this blog I posted the quote off to the right:   ‘Aldo Leopold expressed it beautifully, “There are are some who can live without wild things, and some who cannot.”  I certain count myself amongst the latter.’

That little quote sums it up quite nicely.  Getting outside and savoring the breeze, feeling the sun, watching a bee fly buzzing ... all those things are important to me.  Yes, I could also do it in far exotic places, but along with it would come a big dose people and planes.  How much time would I have to enjoy the solitude of being by myself in nature. When I am with a group I never feel that oneness with nature. 



... and I like understanding what I’m am seeing.  I like learning about how acorn woodpeckers work together as an extended family;  I looking forward to them filling their granary next fall and the next.  The acorn woodpeckers are part of my life.  I feel for them when a jay comes in trying to steal their acorns; I shake my head when one decides a metal pipe is a great place to drop his nuts.  I have drawn them a dozen times, yet I look forward to drawing them again in the year ahead.

... and I enjoy sharing some of my experiences with you, my blog readers.  I hope to open your eyes a little, so that you, too, pause and savor the world around you.  No matter where you live, even in the city, nature is there .... and facinating.
I'm ending with another owl, this one a barred owl.  I drew it from a photo a friend, Susan Bushard .  Those deep, dark eyes were just itching to be drawn.  


Monday, December 4, 2017

Sketching Hoodies (Hooded Mergansers)

Proud little duck, he half rears out of the water and shows off his crest.
Dale and I are sitting next to the same little pond where we watched the red-shouldered hawk struggle with a giant bullfrog just a few days ago.  Today a dozen hooded mergansers are the players on the pond. They are busy diving on the far side of the pond. I feel like Morris, our long ago orange tabby cat.  He used to sit on our living room windowsill and quiver – licking his chops at all those delectable birds just inches away on the other side of the glass. 

My problem isn’t how close the mergansers are;  instead, they are too far away.  They really aren’t all that far but Oregon’s winters are damp and cloudy.  Even though it is early afternoon I’m struggling to see the ducks clearly thanks to low light and high humidity.  I can’t see them well enough to sketch.  We hope the clouds will drift on and the mergansers will come closer.  Meanwhile we eat lunch, nap a little, and watch an encounter between two of the drakes.  It just isn’t an opportunity for sketching.

.... but all is not lost.  Dale took a bunch of poor photographs.  He’ll probably toss them all, but I’ll keep a few for awhile.  They are good enough for me to draw from, far better than I could see while sitting there.  ...  and I still feel like Morris, the cat.  I’m itching to download my camera chip, flip open my laptop and start sketching.  I can at least do that!


Note:  after I got home I quickly penciled all these images … and then inked and painted in spare moments over the next few days. 
Two drakes come scrambling out of the far bay.  One obviously has a fish and the other is hot on his tail, hoping to take it away.
  
No it’s a frog.  The hoodie shifts his frog from sideways to head first and tries to swallow.  He flips his head up and tried again.  They zig and zag on the far side of the pond, one trying to swallow his frog and the other giving him no peace.

 

That was abrupt!  The hoodie drops his frog and swims off. 

 

The second hoodie doesn’t waste a moment.  He grabs the frog, or rather, he attacks the frog.  For three minutes he beats, thrashes, pulverizes, …..  The frog stays in one piece but obviously has become more malleable. 

 

Now it’s his turn to try and swallow the fog.  


The drake tips his head back and slowly gulps the frog down.

 

Well, most of the way down.  He looks pretty silly swimming around with a fat neck and two little feet sticking out, one on each side of his bill.