The weather has been trending toward the pleasant lately, but has still often been a bit too warm (and buggy) by mid-day to really enjoy seeking and shooting birds all day long (Uh-oh! We’ll have to stop for a pint and a brat at the Wurst Haus!). We have been taking every opportunity, though, to get out (mostly to the coast and Brazos Bend) and be productive. October 19 was the first genuinely perfect day of the fall. Nice from start to finish, dry with cool breezes and creamy, beautiful light all day long. What a day to forget about your cares and let your blood pressure return to normal!
Last Weekend, after hearing reports of Wood Storks flying over Brazos Bend State Park toward the coast, we visited Brazoria National Wildlife Refuge. The mosquitos were prodigious in number so we drove the Auto Loop, using the truck as a mobile photo blind. We employed a little trick we learned on the web: pool noodles, cut to length, split to the center and slipped over a half-rolled-down window served as nice supports for the barrels of our super telephoto lenses. Sometimes Elisa rode around in the bed of the pick-up while I drove and shot through my window . . . but no storks.
During a brief visit to the Gulf Coast Bird Observatory in Lake Jackson, we found surprisingly few birds, but the beautiful grounds offered many opportunities for macrophotography of flowers and arthropods, especially spiders. Brazos Bend State Park, too, has been a rich hunting ground for spiders lately, with several species of large orb-weavers being very much in evidence.
I was also happy to discover that the thick layer of reeking seaweed that has been blanketing East Beach, Galveston has finally rotted down to the consistency of scattered coffee grounds. As a result, a favorite birding spot is livable again. For the first time, I saw a Reddish Egret do the Snowy Egret thing—wave a foot back and forth underwater to spook up prey.
In the near future we plan to continue our hunt for migratory shorebirds and songbirds. And Wood Storks remain on the target bird list. Hmmmm . . . San Bernard NWR?
I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape—the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn’t show.—Andrew Wyeth
I’ve been looking forward to putting this post together since I took these photos on the first day of fall this year. I just love it when all the tumblers fall in place and I capture an interaction that tells a story. I was camped out along the banks of Elm Lake at Brazos Bend State Park watching Purple Gallinules methodically turning over what seemed like each and every lotus leaf in their paths. Grab; step; fold; hold. Grab; step; fold; hold. Again and again, they applied the technique as they criss-crossed back and forth across the carpet of lotus leaves. I assumed they were hunting but, for what? Strangely enough they ignored the aquatic snails conspicuously stuck to the undersides of the overturned lily pads. The snails looked pretty good to me, and snails are on the typical Purple Gallinule menu – along with seeds, insects, crustaceans, fish, eggs, and marsh bird nestlings (!) – but they passed on the snails. Not even a “no thank you” helping. It wasn’t until I was able to look at my photos closely that I was able to identify the special of the day – aquatic leaf beetles.
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Over a period of about an hour and a half, I captured 17 unique predator-prey interactions and nine of those involved Donacia, the aquatic leaf beetle. Two involved fish and the remaining four menu items – unidentified. This juvenile Purple Gallinule found its beetles either sandwiched between overlapping lotus leaves or nestled within enrolled emergent lotus leaves. I also saw the gallinule peek inside the rolled up leaves presumably checking for beetles before ripping a small hole in the side to extract the snack. (I’ll post that series later.)
I have noticed a large up-tick in the number of Green Darners (Anax junius) around the Texas Gulf Coast. This no surprise as Green Darners migrate from as far north as Alaska to as far south as Panama during the fall. The details of Green Darner migration across North America are sketchy, but many millions fly south during fall with their avian predators. Why some Green Darners migrate and others stay put is a mystery, but the north-south migration is intergenerational as the reproductive adult typically only lives for an estimated 4-7 weeks. On an individual basis, telling a migrant from a resident is generally not possible.
For a bird photographer, the waxing and waning of abundance of adults of different dragonfly species means that I get to shoot birds preying on different species of dragonflies throughout the spring, summer, and fall. For dragonflies, it seems likely that emergence (molting into the flying adult from the aquatic larval form) and mating are two times of special vulnerability to avian predation. In the case of the former, the dragonfly must sit motionless on vegetation for hours while the wings extend and harden. In the latter case, the male and female insects are attached, thus presenting a larger and slower target for predatory birds.
In any case, such temporal variation in prey abundance adds a fascinating dimension to nature photography . . . .
We just returned from a fantastic road trip across West Texas, New Mexico, and southeastern Arizona. Along the way we stopped at four places, and each of these stops will serve as the basis for a dedicated post or two in the future. In the meantime, here are some highlights.
The first stop was the observation blind at the Tom Mays Unit of Franklin Mountains State Park, just north of El Paso, Texas. We have visited this locale before during other seasons. Sparrows and finches dominate during the cooler months (take a look here at our sparrow collection), but during the summer, hummingbirds rule! The air was thick with Black-chinned, Rufous, and Calliope Hummingbirds. Oodles of Calliope Hummingbirds in the middle of summer in Texas? Yes–and that will be a future post!
After the Franklin Mountains came Cave Creek Canyon in the Chiricahua Mountains of extreme southeastern Arizona. This is the first time we visited Portal and environs in summer, and it was amazing. Just coming to grips with the botany and entomology in this arid Garden of Eden would take a lifetime. The birding was also phenomenal, and we added several species that can only be seen in southeast Arizona (or perhaps the southern extremities of New Mexico and/or Texas) within the U.S. including Blue-throated and Broad-billed Hummingbirds, Sulphur-bellied Flycatchers, Brown-backed (a.k.a. Strickland’s or Arizona) Woodpeckers, and Yellow-eyed Juncos, among others. We look forward to writing much more about Cave Creek in the future!
On the way back, we took a “minor” detour through Roswell, New Mexico to scope out Bitter Lake National Wildlife Refuge. On the way, we read about a colony of Burrowing Owls that live in a Black-tailed Prairie Dog town located in Roswell’s Spring River Park and Zoo. We couldn’t resist–even though we were bleary-eyed from seven hours in the car.
At this park, you could make the case that the prairie dogs are captive animals, although they routinely burrow under the park wall and could walk away if they wanted. The owls, however, are wild animals that stay in this prarie-dog town in close proximity to humans of their own volition–although their choices are limited. About 99% of prairie dogs have been exterminated in the U.S., and the owls rely on the burrows of these rodents. Another future post!
Finally, we stopped at Bitter Lake National Wildlife Refuge, a major wintering ground for waterfowl along the western extremity of the Central Flyway, and reportedly one of the best areas to see dragonflies in the U.S. during the hot months: just what we need to fuel our nascent interest in dragonfly photography. This sun-baked desert oasis, no doubt, will warrant future mention on Twoshutterbirds. We are already planning future visits to the desert Southwest while we eagerly await the fall cool down along the Texas Gulf Coast and the beginning of the fall migration.
“I was born on the prairies where the wind blew free and there was nothing to break the light of the sun. I was born where there were no enclosures.”–Geronimo
During the summer in Gulf Coast Texas, when bird diversity is relatively low, there are generally lots of insects–especially dragonflies–to draw the photographer’s attention. Clearly dragonflies, although small, cannot be treated like typical macro subjects, at least most of the time. First of all, they are highly aware of their surroundings and sometimes won’t let you get close to them. Second, along the Gulf Coast they are often perched on emergent vegetation in alligator- and water moccasin-infested water, or chigger-infested grass.
So rather than use a lens requiring a close approach (the super sharp 100mm f/2.8L IS macro, for example), the question becomes which super telephoto is the best dragonfly lens? Further, is flash necessary or even best? Should the 1.4x teleconverter be used? What about extension tubes? With this many questions and permutations of possible combinations of equipment (plus field considerations), I’ve come nowhere near a definite conclusion, but at least I have identified some issues–and I’m excited about further experimentation!
Although I know that some photographers use extension tubes in this application, for the moment I’m taking them off the table primarily because these devices (hollow tubes inserted between the camera and lens that decrease the minimum focus distance while retaining most camera functions) significantly decrease the flexibility of the set-up. Extension tubes cost image brightness, slow autofocus (if they allow it to function at all), slightly shift the focal point of the lens, and degrade the ability to focus at a distance. I’m looking for a rig that will allow excellent captures of dragonflies while preserving my options should a bird or other animal suddenly appear at a larger distance.
That said, the different super telephotos I have access to (100-400mm, 300mm, 500mm; 600mm) have different minimum focus distances (MFD) and magnifications. Of these, the 100-400mm is definitely out: It is a versatile lens, but it just isn’t as sharp as the primes (fixed focal length lenses). The 300mm has the closest MFD (4.93 ft), but in my experience that is often irrelevant because the bug won’t let you get anywhere near that close.
On the other end of the scale, dragonflies will almost always let you get to the MFD for the 600mm (18.04 ft), but that’s pretty far away for such a small animal. Teleconverters do not affect MFD, but they soak up a little light and degrade sharpness (only slightly for 1.4x on a prime). So far, I have liked some shots taken with the 600mm (+1.4x TC). This is probably because of the number of opportunities I’ve been able to take with such a large MFD–I don’t risk trying to get too close and chase the subject away.
Of the three primes (with teleconverters attached) being discussed here, the 600mm should give the worst results on theoretical grounds. The ratio of focal length (the longer, the better) to MFD (the smaller, the better), is a way to think about this issue. The larger this ratio, the better because it expresses how much focal length “firepower” you have per separation distance. For the 300mm (+1.4x TC), the focal length/MFD ratio = 85 mm/ft. For the 600mm (+1.4x TC), focal length/MFD ratio = 47 mm/ft. The ratio for the 500mm has a value of 48 mm/ft, nearly the same as the 600mm. So if you could get close, the 300mm should be best–but often you can’t get that close. Compromise strikes again!
As far as flash is concerned, it seems to be primarily a matter of taste. Natural light, of course, looks more natural. The flash reveals fine details, especially in the shadows, sometimes not visible in natural light. Flash can sometimes create a magical, almost surreal effect as in the case of the Halloween Pennants above. One clear problem with the flash is the same as in the case of birds: the flash adds an extra catchlight in the eyes. Because dragonflies have large compound eyes, the effect can be pronounced.
So . . . what to do? For now, keep working, trying new combinations, and see if a clear choice emerges that preserves options and image quality. Finally, all this thought about dragonflies has clearly benefitted my bird photography in one way. I can now easily recognize all the common dragonflies around the places I normally shoot, and thus can put a technical name on some of the meals my beloved waders are enjoying!
“Your first 10,000 photographs are your worst.” ― Henri Cartier-Bresson
When the sun is high in the sky and the light isn’t conducive for bird photography, I like to bust out the macro lens and look for smaller wonders. I found this robber fly taking a break among the scrubby beach vegetation while its neurotoxic, proteolytic saliva paralyzes and chemically digests the insides of its current victim. Charming. It’s a good thing (for us) that these flying assassins exclusively prey upon arthropods – mostly other insects at that.