Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice. –Robert Frost
Parakeet Auklets Battle, St. Paul Island, Pribilof Islands, Alaska. Nesting real estate is at a premium on cliffs frequented by sea birds. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
If given the choice, I’d choose the latter . . . .
The recent uncharacteristic silence has been the result of being ridiculously busy with work and a variety of messy projects. We haven’t been able to work on anything related to photo-birding, except adding a few volumes to our growing ornithology library. And the disgusting dog-days of summer here along the Gulf Coast haven’t made the prospect of being outside very attractive–even if we had the time.
Common Loon Take-off, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. Common Loons fish the deep waters of Offatt’s Bayou in winter. Although you won’t see breeding colors until just before they depart for breeding grounds, Offatt’s Bayou offers the prospect of seeing these birds without having to make a blood sacrifice to the Insecta of the North Country. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
What I have been able to do, though, is fantasize about glorious birding outings in the cold, fresh frosty air in my face. Blow again north winds, blow! Make being outside a joy, again!
Black Rosy-Finch, Sandia Mountains, New Mexico. This difficult-to-see bird can be found on the frozen heights of the Sandia Mountains in winter. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
@2018 Christopher R. Cunningham. All rights reserved. No text or images may be duplicated or distributed without permission.
Wilderness is not a luxury but a necessity of the human spirit. –Edward Abbey
Portrait: Brown Pelican in Flight, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Note that the cloudiness of the eye is due to the translucent nictitating membrane. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
The weather was right, we had the time off, and there was nothing more to be done about Harvey . . . So we set out for the field. East Beach was glorious. A south wind blew across the island slowing the progress of the big, slow-flying birds as they traced the edge of the land. They were the usual suspects: Herring and Ring-billed Gulls, Forster’s and Royal Terns; Brown Pelicans. But as is often the case when I haven’t been shooting for a while, most of the images turned out to be mush, but it was good just to be out again.
Carolina Wren with Attitude, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. The log is at least partly hollow. Likely the beginnings of a nest are inside. Canon EOS 7DII/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
The next day I returned to the field. To Brazos Bend State Park I went. This time I took Elisa’s 500mm f/4 lens, rather than my 600mm–I was giving the old shoulder a break. Again the usual suspects. The only thing unusual was the number of warblers. They were everywhere.
Large flocks of Myrtle Warblers probed leaves and hawked bugs from the air. Sometimes they joined Blue-gray Gnatcatchers in hunting in the grass. Common Yellowthroats hopped among the aquatic vegetation. Orange-crowned Warblers were also up to their normal tricks, fishing spiders and insects from dead, rolled up leaves. I spied a single Male Wilson’s Warbler pretending to be a Common Yellowthroat as he plucked aquatic insects from Pilant Lake. Of this bird’s reflection in the water, Elisa quipped: “Look, he brought his own sunshine!” The only missing warbler was the Pine Warbler–perhaps these birds got wind of the coming inclement weather.
All in all, a lovely few days. Can’t wait for the sun to shine again.
Male Wilson’s Warbler with Larval Insect, Pilant Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
There is one knows not what sweet mystery about this sea, whose gently awful stirrings seem to speak of some hidden soul beneath. –Herman Melville
Reddish Egret (White Morph) with Shrimp, back beach lagoon, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
The weather last weekend was nothing short of fantastic, so off to the coast we went! A stretch of beach with a collection of lagoons and tidal channels behind (just north of the Houston Audubon Least Tern nesting sanctuary) is one of our favorite birding spots on Galveston. Here, we saw a mix of the new and the familiar.
The birds were the usual suspects for this time of year, but we caught them doing something we’d not seen before: dining on a profusion of shrimp. We saw Reddish Egrets and Lesser Yellowlegs clearly grabbing shrimp. I also suspect that Neotropic Cormorants were eating them too, but I couldn’t document the interaction photographically. I have seen Cormorants eating shrimp before, but in freshwater.
Neotropic Cormorant with Fish, back beach lagoon, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Elisa noticed that potholes on the bottom of a lagoon–that used to be a tidal channel, now walled off from the sea by a dune–were filled wth young shrimp. These potholes appeared to be abandoned fish nests. The Lesser Yellowlegs were clearly plucking shrimp from the potholes, whereas the Reddish Egret seemed to be grabbing larger shrimp from the water column.
In addition to shrimp being taken, a variety of fish, including shad and killifish were being gobbled up by cormorants and waders. The strand line was scattered with flocks of Sanderlings. A few Ruddy Turnstones and Black-bellied Plovers were in the mix. All of these species can often be seen scavenging carcasses washed up on shore. This day was no exception: An aggressive Ruddy Turnstone repeatedly ran off a cadre of hungry Sanderlings vying for carrion.
All in all, a spectacular, winter-like day. We can only hope for many more,
Ruddy Turnstone with Fish Carcass, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Outside the frame are a group of Sanderlings waiting for the least weakening of resolve by the Turnstone. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Life is not a spectacle or a feast; it is a predicament.–George Santayana
Sandhill Cranes with Lesser Snow and Ross’s Geese, San Bernardo National Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico. Ross’s Geese are much smaller than Lesser Snow Geese. Can you pick out the Ross’s Geese? Hint: there is one near the center in the foreground staring back at the camera. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Huge flocks of waterfowl are one of the great spectacles of the fall and winter. Lesser Snow Geese congregate in wetlands and agricultural fields like those in and around Anahuac National Wildlife Refuge, Texas. At Anahuac, thousands of birds can dot the land and water and form swirling clouds, but we’ve only seen them from a distance, deep in the marshes or fields. Truth be told, I assumed that all the white waterfowl we’ve seen here in the past were Lesser Snow Geese. This is probably not the case.
Last Winter, on a road trip to New Mexico, we were able to get close enough to similar flocks to identify a few of the much smaller Ross’s Geese that could easily pass unnoticed. Ross’s Geese are rare visitors to Texas and New Mexico and are far fewer in number than Snow Geese, with which they have been know to interbreed.
Ross’s Geese are small and cute, with relatively stubby beaks and round domed heads, like baby animals. As a naturalist, the first word that entered my mind when I saw Ross’s Geese was neoteny. Neotenic evolution occurs when juvenile features are retained in the adult . . . .
Two Ross’s Geese Surrounded by Lesser Snow Geese, Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico. Note the bluish patch near the base of the bill on the Ross’s Geese. Also note that several of the Lesser Snow Geese are blue phase (blue geese). Blue phase Ross’s Geese are also known but are rare. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4 IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Ross’s Geese are Arctic breeders whose lives were poorly understood until the recent past. In the 1930’s, they were thought to only number several thousand individuals. Snow Geese were in a similar predicament a few decades earlier. In recent times, though, both species have greatly expanded their numbers and now make up sizable flocks.
The standard adaptationist explanation for herds or flocks or animals is that there is safety in numbers. The chance of any individual being taken by a predator is low. A logical extension of this strategy would be to be a rare species in a much larger group of another species. Any attack by a predator on the group would most likely result in a member of the more abundant species being taken.
Could the rarity of Ross’s Geese, coupled with looking like a juvenile (and hence receiving gentler treatment from the other geese?), be a survival strategy? Every trip to the field provides more questions than answers and ample fuel for speculation.
Lesser Snow Geese in Formation, San Bernardo National Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico. One of these days I’ll get a Ross’s Goose in formation with Snow Geese either in Texas or New Mexico . . . but not this day. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Economy, prudence, and a simple life are the sure masters of need, and will often accomplish that which, their opposites, with a fortune at hand, will fail to do. –Clara Barton
Snow Goose in Flight, San Bernardo National Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
As you may have guessed, dear readers, Harvey destroyed our house. For the past month, we have been struggling to begin the clean-up while still going to our jobs. This last week we managed to get back out into the field for the first time in quite a while. Although too hot to really enjoy being out, it reminded us of the joy birding has been for us in the past, and what a source of pleasure it will be in the future.
On this outing, we visited East Beach, Galveston hoping for some migrant shorebirds and Lafitte’s Cove hoping for some migrant songbirds. Neither spot was very birdy during our visit. In the shorebird department, we saw only Least Sandpipers, Black-bellied Plovers, and Sanderlings (the usual suspects). At Lafitte’s Cove, in addition to resident birds, we saw but a single Magnolia and Wilson’s Warbler . . . .
Sandhill Crane in Flight, San Bernardo National Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
But soon, it will be cool, and the ducks and geese will return. The Sandhill Cranes will return, and the beaches will swarm with migrant shorebirds, and the woods will teem with migrant songbirds. Soon even the bloodsucking flies will disappear (mostly), and we’ll not have to be slathered in sunscreen to avoid getting fried. In short, this birder’s world will return to the paradise it often is, and dreams of local and far-away trips can return, and the healing can begin . . . .
Singing Snow Bunting on Drift Log, Anton Larsen Wall, St. Paul Island, Pribilof Islands, Alaska. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Isn’t life a series of images that change as they repeat themselves? –Andy Warhol
Dunlin (Breeding), South Shore, Lake Superior, Wisconsin. The bright rufous back is unique for a North American sandpiper. Note how trim this bird is compared to the Texas fatties below! Flying a few thousand miles will definitely get a bird in shape! This bird was still on its way to the Arctic. Photo taken in June, 2013. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
I continue to find bird watching a most challenging hobby. This week, after reading an article about cormorant identification, I discovered to my horror that I had misidentified several birds in previous posts. I was going by a common field mark (no yellow lores on Neotropic Cormorants), published in many field guides—that is wrong! As a result, I went through the entire blog and made corrections.
Small sandpipers, too, are the stuff of nightmares, as far as bird identifications go. For some reason, I often find myself staring at Dunlins, trying to establish a gestalt to distinguish them from the other look-alike cutie-pie sandpipers they might be . . . .
Dunlin (transitional), East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Photo taken this spring. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Because Dunlins breed in the Arctic and winter along the Texas Gulf Coast, we usually don’t see them in their distinctive breeding colors. This spring I’ve seen a few transitioning into breeding plumage, though. And in those cases, it really helped with the identification—especially the black belly feathers coming in, which are unique for a Texas sandpiper. Otherwise, I’m looking for black legs and a long, droopy black beak on a butterball. If you see these features, you’ve only got to make sure you haven’t got a Western Sandpiper, and you’re done—except for figuring out what the bird’s up to!
Dunlin (Nonbreeding), Frenchtown Road, Bolivar Peninsula, Texas. Photo taken November 7, 2016. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
What we achieve inwardly will change outer reality. –Plutarch
Common Loon in Pin Feathers, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston island, Texas. The tips of the pin feathers on the neck and head are pigmented black. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.Common Loon in Pin Feathers 2, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. This is the same bird as above. Note the shagginess of the pin feathers on head and neck. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
This week on Galveston, Common Loons could be seen in many stages of transitional plumage. Every bird looked slightly different. All the birds I saw had some degree of spotting on the wings, and so lacked the brown, scalloped pattern of nonbreeding wing plumage. I saw one bird with a shaggy mane of pin feathers (Thanks to S.M. for pointing out this bird!) and one bird in almost complete breeding colors—only a stray feather here or there needed to be pigmented.
Common Loon in Transitional Plumage, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. This bird appears to be in nonbreeding plumage from the neck forward. Spots on the wings show the transition to breeding colors has begun, though. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.Another Common Loon in Transitional Plumage, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. This bird is a little further along than the one immediately above. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Many birds were engaged in hunting behavior much of the time. I saw fish, crabs, and a single mantis shrimp (Squilla empusa) being taken. This is clearly the time of year to be gorging and fattening up. It’s a long way back to Canada and environs for the breeding season! A good deal of preening was also going on, likely related to molting and keeping feathers in shape for the big trip ahead. Two birds had already pair-bonded and spent a significant amount of time together–another reminder that breeding in birds is often a process that unfolds in many stages over much of the year.
Common Loon in Breeding Colors (Nearly), Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. This bird was more shy than many others and had apparently already pair-bonded. Another bird in less well-developed transitional plumage kept appearing in close proximity. Could shyness toward humans and pair-bonding behaviors be related? Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Life is one long process of getting tired.–Samuel Butler
California Pelican, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. We always keep an eye out for the red throat pouch—a sign of the Pacific race of the Brown Pelican. The blackish- or brownish-green-throated Atlantic Brown Pelicans greatly outnumber the Pacifics along the Texas Gulf Coast. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4 L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
The house is in shambles, and the yard looks like a post-apocolyptic wasteland (Thanks, sod webworm moth larvae!) so we’re takin’ a break! Not to worry, we’ll be back on the ball soon!
Feet, what do I need you for when I have wings to fly?—Frida Kahlo
Portrait: Eared Grebe, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Among extant birds, grebes have a unique method of foot propulsion. There are other foot-propelled divers, loons, for example, but these birds have significant webbing between the toes. The birds with webbed toes push themselves forward against the drag force of water. Grebes, on the other hand, have separate toes with stiff, collapsible asymmetrical lobes on each side. The lobes on the inside are larger than those on the outside. Grebes are also unusual in that their relatively short femora (thigh bones) are oriented perpendicular to the long axis of the body, and the toes beat along a complex dorso-lateral to ventro-medial path, rather than parallel to the direction of the body’s forward motion.
Diving Eared Grebe, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. Although grebes have a unique method of foot-propulsion, they look like many other submarine hunters (e.g., loons, mergansers, cormorants) from above the water as they dive after prey. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
The traditional interpretation of how grebes paddled through the water, and the one I was taught, is that the lobes of the toes would unfold during then power stroke to provide maximum drag to push against, and fold up to reduce drag on the the recovery stroke. A more recent interpretation is that the grebe foot acts like a (slotted) hydrofoil and provides a lift force that propels the bird forward from behind (Johansson and Norberg, 2001)–physically similar to the way in which a wing allows a bird or airplane to fly. The lift hypothesis has an immediate visceral appeal to me given the asymmetrical lobes of the toes—like the vanes of a flight feather. Lift is usually explained by elementary physics textbooks as the result of the Bernoulli principle, essentially the conservation of energy for a moving fluid. This explanation is not correct quantitatively. The true explanation likely involves the most terrifying of all physics concepts . . . turbulence . . . .
Diving Eared Grebe 2, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
As a photographer on the surface, I haven’t been able to document the strange way in which grebes move through the water. Once and a while, when conditions were right, I have been treated to a glimpse of the legs in motion as in the image below. Swimming with grebes is one more activity to add to an already lengthy bucket list.
I mentioned at the opening that grebes were unique among extant birds. Hesperornithiformes, a group of toothed Cretaceous foot-propelled diving birds, are thought to have had a method of propulsion similar to grebes and to have possessed asymmetrically lobed individual toes. On a recent visit to the New Mexico Museum of Natural History in Albuquerque, I had the opportunity to study the feet of a life-sized model of Hesperornis regalis, the largest of these Cretaceous divers from the Kansas Chalk Sea. Reading the label . . . sure enough, reconstruction supervised by Dr. L. D. Martin, my late (paleo)ornithology professor, a gifted teacher with so many fascinating stories to tell about the lives of birds. . . .
Diving Eared Grebe 3, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. Offatt’s Bayou is a great place to see Eared Grebes hunting in winter. Texas City Dike is another. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
While grebe-watching, I am always interested in seeing these birds return to the surface with prey. In my experience along the Gulf Coast, Eared Grebes rarely return to the surface with prey. After dozens of dives, I have seen only one small fish clamped in a beak. This means that grebes are either remarkably unsuccessful hunters (unlikely), or that they can swallow small prey underwater (likely). Pied-billed and Least Grebes can be seen with large prey on the surface like fish, crawfish, frogs, and dragonflies. Perhaps small prey may be easily swallowed in the submarine realm, whereas large prey items may need to be manipulated into an ideal orientation in the air. In any case, grebes are certainly among the most interesting subjects for study and observation. Elisa doesn’t have to ask me twice to go grebe-watching!
Juvenile Pied-billed Grebe with Crawfish, Elm Lake, Brazos Bend State Park, Texas. In the past, Brazos Bend SP was great place to see Pied-billed Grebes hunting year-round. Recent flooding has decimated the ecology of the park, and water birds are no longer abundant. Canon EOS 7D/500mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Reference
Johansson, L.C., and Norberg, U. M. L. Norberg. 2001. Lift-based Paddling in Diving Grebe. The Journal of Experimental Biology204: 1687-1696.
There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so. –William Shakespeare
Double-crested Cormorant with “Plecostomus,” Fiorenza Park, Houston, Texas. We Texans may be horrified by the proliferation of these South American armored catfish in our waters, but to cormorants that range far to the south, it still feels like home when they’re around. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
l know there is a great diversity of opinion on this subject, but my favorite kind of Texas photo-birding day is the day after a strong blue norther. The howling winds have died down, and the 40º sky is clear, but for a thin haze of cirrus clouds. This kind of day has been in very short supply for several years now.
Eye to Eye: Neotropic Cormorant with “Plecostomus,” Fiorenza Park, Houston, Texas. In this shot, the sun was in the wrong position (or rather I was), leading to too much glare from the water and a backlit bird. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Lately the weather has been wildly variable, with clear, cold days rare. This has meant having to make the most of a wide variety of lighting situations. The two cormorant shots above were taken under what I consider to be “bad” conditions. The sky was mostly cloudy with sunbreaks every few minutes leading to having to constantly chimp settings. When the sun emerged, it produced a blinding, muddy-yellow glare off the water’s surface. Because the fishing behavior documented was happening all around me, the sun was sometimes behind and sometimes ahead—making for an exciting morning of work!
Ad Noctem: An Eared Grebe Paddles off into the Fog, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. I like the way the wake ends at a veil of fog. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.Eared Grebe, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. Perfect light, but not perfect perspective. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Two recent visits to Offatt’s Bayou occurred during very different optical conditions. The upper grebe and loon immediately below were shot on a gloomy, gray, foggy morning. And the lower grebe and loon were shot on the same glorious, clear, bright morning about a week later at the same place.
This shooting locale (where 61st crosses Offfatt’s Bayou) has only recently become accessible again. Where rickety old docks used to stand, there is now a large raised cement viewing/fishing platform. The problem with the new platform is that it is too high, leading to an extreme shooting angle. The old situation was actually better, assuming you were willing to risk falling into the drink to get the shot. Alas, there’s really nothing to be done about the angle now—except to try and capture some interesting wave forms, colors, reflections, or textures from the surface of the water. Sometimes you have to take what you can get! Progress!
Made in the Shade: Common Loon, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. It looks like this bird is swimming in mercury. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.Transitional Common Loon, Offatt’s Bayou, Galveston Island, Texas. Images from this locale tend to look better from a bit of a distance, given the raised nature of the observation platform. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Birds are the most popular group in the animal kingdom. We feed them and tame them and think we know them. And yet they inhabit a world which is really rather mysterious. –David Attenborough
Line of American White Pelicans, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Frankly we haven’t gotten out much lately. This is a function of terrible weather and just plain exhaustion. The prospect of fighting traffic on a gloomly, humid 85° day in February hasn’t held much charm. Spending time indoors has led to combing through the photo archives and pining for past years in which we had a proper winter.
One of the things we would have been watching for this week, had we been outdoors, is the cooperative feeding behavior of American White Pelicans. Whenever I see these birds I stand in awe, just waiting for them to so something neat. Is there anything more majestic in American birding than a string of White Pelicans paddling in formation along the shallows searching for schools of fish?
American White Pelican Feeding Frenzy, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
American White Pelicans are known to cooperatively herd fish into the shallows by beating their wings. On Galveston, a fairly common sight is a line of White Pelicans suddenly forming a circle, beaks pointed inward, and gobbling up a school of fish (presumably).
Pelican Phalanx, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Once the feeding frenzy is over, the birds turn around within their circular formation and reassemble into their line and continue paddling along peacefully . . . until the next school of fish.
Back in Line, East Beach, Galveston Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7D/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
Take rest; a field that has rested gives a beautiful crop. –Ovid
Who are you? Chris enjoys inspecting flocks of birds for rarities. Recently he scanned a large flock of gulls and terns on Mustang Island and recognized everyone—except the bird above and another like it. Complicating matters is the fact that some species of gulls change their appearance every year for the first few years of life. It turned out that the speckled birds were first-winter Ring-billed Gulls. Not rarities for sure, but it was the first time he had seen this plumage type. Port Aransas Jetty, Mustang Island, Texas. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
The last few weeks have been rather hectic, and we’re wiped out. Never fear, we’ll be back on the ball soon sharing some images of, and words about, our incredible Texas avifauna! Cheers, Elisa and Chris
Lone Blue Goose, Bosque del Apache NWR, New Mexico. Thousands of waterfowl winter at this incredible refuge. Canon EOS 7DII/600mm f/4L IS (+1.4x TC). Natural light.
