Category: photography

Ducks (and turtles) at Botany Pond

April 8, 2026 • 9:00 am

Please allow me to show you pictures of my children, which this year comprise a pair of mallards (Anas platyrhynchos) and a pair of wood ducks (Aix sponsa). The latter don’t seem to be breeding here as they’re on the pond most of the day, and because female wood ducks nest in tree holes, and we ain’t got any.

The female mallard, named Vashti, is nesting nearby, but I’m keeping her nest location as secret as I can as I don’t want people disturbing her while she’s incubating her clutch of seven eggs. I expect a hatch about April 19 or so.  The male mallard, named Armon, patiently awaits Vashti, who comes down to the pond once a day to have a big feed and a bath and preening session. Those sessions last about 15 minutes, but Armon, a lovesick drake, patiently patrols the pond for about 23 hours and 45 minutes per day.

The wood ducks are absent in the mornings but then are at the pond most of the rest of the day, which tells me that the wood duck hen is not sitting on eggs.

But have a look at these gorgeous wood ducks: feathered jewels. I’ve added a few photos of our resident turtles, red-eared sliders (Trachemys scripta elegans). Of the five we put in last fall, I’ve seen two or three. The other turtles must have either died during hibernation or simply walked away from the pond.

Below: the wood duck pair, whom I haven’t named as no names suggested have seemed appropriate. This is an example of extreme sexual dimorphism, as you can clearly see. Why females chose males with those patterns, colors, and a crest is something we don’t understand. But it’s clearly another example of sexual selection in birds, something that ultimately devolves to the difference between the sexes in gamete size and investment. (Yes, there are two sexes in all of these animals.)

Do click on the photos to enlarge them.

The male.  I can’t get enough of seeing him and marveling at his beauty. The only other wild duck to rival this phenotypic glory is that of the male mandarin duck (Aix galericulata), a species found in East Asia. Wood ducks, however, are natives here.

He has satanic red eyes, but really is very gentle (also quick and much smaller than a mallard):

Here’s a video of the male and female wood duck having their lunch at Botany Pond:

Wood ducks seem quite romantic to me. They are always very close to each other and sometimes the male nuzzles the female.

I need names! The hen:

They are quite plump, as I ensure that they never go hungry.

Armon doesn’t really like the wood ducks, but somehow knows to chase them halfheartedly, as you see him chasing the male wood duck here.  When an undocumented drake flew into the pond last Saturday, and began chasing Vashti off her nest (he was clearly eager to copulate), Armon went after him big time.  With the help of Armon, a lot of running and yelling, and my trusty Super Soaker, I finally managed to expel the intruder. Here Armon goes after the male wood duck, who is much faster and more agile.

This is my favorite picture of the pair. They both have their heads cocked, probably looking at something above like a hawk.  Ducks have eyes on the sides of their heads, and so must cock them if they want to see above. It’s very cute when they do that, and rare to see a pair do it simultaneously:

The hen has iridescent feathers, too, but they’re less conspicuous and usually covered by the wings. They are probably byproducts of the colors that are exaggerated in males. You can see some of them below:

Have another picture of my boy:

The male woodie standing on one leg, doing his flamingo impression. (Ducks do this to conserve heat, and this was a chilly day.)

As I said, Vashti is incubating her eggs, but she comes down to the pond for about 15 minutes per day for a nosh and a bath. Here’s part of her preening session, which is quite vigorous. Shortly thereafter she flew off to her nest. Note that Armon stays nearby, as he gets only a few minutes per day with his mate and lady love.

And we mustn’t forget the turtles! On warm days they come out of the water to soak up sun on the rocks, extending their limbs to get as much heat as possible. We call this “turtle yoga.”

The long claws tell us that the one below is a male (they use the claws in courtship):

Readers’ wildlife photos

April 7, 2026 • 9:15 am

Today we have a potpourri of photos from several readers. Their captions are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

From Robert Lang:

Every few days I drive up to Altadena to check on the progress of our rebuild. Now, 14 months after the fires of January 2025, the neighborhoods are starting to come back to life again with the sounds of hammering and sawing, but the animals that had come down from the hills still consider the area to be their own. This bobcat (Lynx rufus) wandered into the empty lot next door while I was checking on our own home’s progress:

Although our metal mailbox survived the fire, we’ve redirected all mail to our temporary home for the time being. Nevertheless, people occasionally stuff their own junk flyers into the mailbox. To help dissuade them from their paper spam, this  Western black widow (Latrodectus hesperus) has taken up residence on the front of the mailbox. When disturbed, she retreats to her cozy cubbyhole under the handle, which is right where you’d put your fingers if you were going to open the mailbox to stuff something inside:

Seeing eye to eye: this California Ground Squirrel (Otospermophilus beecheyi) and Western Fence Lizard (Sceloporus occidentalis) are trying to decide who gets the top of the rock. Photograph by Merrilee Fellows.

From Todd Martin; a photo taken in, I believe, the Yucatan:

We encountered the ocellated turkey,  (Meleagris ocellata), appropriately enough, on Thanksgiving day, I had no idea what it was though and took it for a brightly colored pheasant. It wasn’t posing as nicely, but this picture gives a better sense of the iridescent feathers:

And from Keira McKenzie in Perth, Australia, we have three shots of the willie wagtail (Rhipidura leucophrys):

The first is taken at a neighbour’s place. She feeds him so he comes every morning:

The other two are taken at Hyde Park.

They are called Djiji Djiji in Nhe Noongar language,  which is much like the chittering it makes when cross or wary. The Latin name is Rhipidura leucophrys/

Despite being known for their chittering, they are also incredibly melodic. They wag their tails from side to side, but are actually the largest of the fantails.

They are known for their outrageous courage and will take on anything – cats, eagles, hawks, people – and win! Every time 😀

They are an utter delight and common all over Australia (though the ones in my neighbourhood have gone along with the trees – the increasing heat has caused them to stop nesting in my front yard).

And they are tiny. Tiny and mighty 🙂

They are very cute. And fierce with their white eyebrows over their bright black eyes 🙂

From Mark Gregor-Pearse in Texas:

This Great Egret (Ardea alba) was photographed on March 9, 2026, at the Puente Río Cuale in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, with an iPhone 17 Pro. These large wading birds hunt by remaining perfectly still before striking with lightning speed to spear fish, frogs, and other small aquatic prey. Males and females look nearly identical, so it is difficult to determine the sex from a photo. In the early 1900s, Great Egrets were nearly driven to extinction because their delicate breeding plumes were prized for women’s hats. Public outrage over the slaughter helped launch the modern bird conservation movement:

And a cat from Pratyaydipta Rudra:

I am hoping to send some photos for readers’ wildlife when I get some time. Meanwhile I thought you may enjoy this photo of a stray cat from India (a friend sent it to me). It really wants to experience the “magic”, but alas! It’s too expensive. 

Readers’ wildlife photos

April 6, 2026 • 8:15 am

Today’s photo come from reader Jan Malik, who took them in New Jersay. Jan’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

As an appendix to the earlier Tree Swallow pictures, here are a few more from the New Jersey Botanical Garden. A walk in that park on the first day of spring is a ritual of mine—to ensure all observable phenomena related to spring are happening again and that the thermal death of the Universe is postponed for yet another year.

Red-bellied Woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus) pausing mid-search for food. This is a female; in this species, the red plumage is restricted to the nape and the area above the bill, whereas males sport a continuous red cap:

Spring Snowflake (Leucojum vernum, possibly var. carpathicum), a Eurasian transplant. It looks succulent, but this perennial defends itself against mammalian browsing by producing bitter, poisonous alkaloids:

Eastern Cottontail (Sylvilagus floridanus) hiding in bearberry brambles. Against this notorious garden destroyer, only the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch offers a true degree of protection:

Forsythia (Genus Forsythia) in bloom—the unmistakable sign that spring has arrived:

White-breasted Nuthatch (Sitta carolinensis). Like the woodpecker, it is a connoisseur of arthropods hiding in bark. however, by being equally adept at feeding head-down or head-up, it finds insects that a woodpecker might miss:

Common Water Strider (likely Aquarius remigis) emerged from its winter hiding. These are predators and scavengers of insects trapped on the surface of slow-flowing streams. As a “true bug,” it has evolved to exploit surface tension. However, surface tension alone doesn’t keep it dry; the secret lies in the dense, hydrophobic hairs on its tarsi. These trap air to act as tiny “dinghies,” preventing the legs from being wetted by capillary action:

Crocus flower (likely a Woodland Crocus, Crocus tommasinianus). The flowers emerge before the leaves, which then die back in late spring after accumulating enough biomass for the year. This adaptation to montane meadows and early forests allows them to bloom early, while withdrawing underground provides a defense against browsing:

Northern Mockingbird (Mimus polyglottos) picking bittersweet fruit (likely the introduced Oriental Bittersweet, Celastrus orbiculatus). The fruit is indeed slightly sweet—a fact I confirmed before spitting it out, as they are reportedly toxic to humans. As they say: don’t try this at home; try it in nature instead:

After the meal, the mockingbird sits quietly in a nearby bush. They mimic other birds’ calls, possibly to fool rivals into thinking a territory is already occupied. It doesn’t work on me, though—I can always tell the original bird from the imitation:

Snowdrop (Genus Galanthus), another Eurasian immigrant. Most of the plants in these pictures were introduced from Eurasia to the Americas; however, with the exception of the Bittersweet, they are generally not considered invasive:

A Jumping Spider. I can’t vouch for the exact ID, but it resembles Phidippus princeps. While not my best shot, it’s worth noting that, like all others in this series, it was taken with a single lens (Canon RF 100-500mm)—a blessing for a lazy photographer.

An Eastern Gray Squirrel (Sciurus carolinensis), looking lean after winter and digging for roots and grubs in the lawn. This species is an unwelcome sight in Europe, where its introduction is displacing the native Red Squirrel. But can we really blame them? They are simply good at being squirrels. It is entirely a human fault that geographical barriers are collapsing. In this “Homogecene” era of a connected world, the total number of species will inevitably decline:

Readers’ wildlife photos

April 4, 2026 • 8:40 am

Send in your photos if you got ’em!

We have a batch of lovely hummingbird photos today sent in by Ephraim Heller, including a hummer in her nest. His captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

On my February visit to Trinidad and Tobago I managed to photograph 13 of the 18 hummingbirds that are sometimes present on the islands. A previous post was devoted entirely to my new favorite bird, the tufted coquette. Today’s post contains photos of six other species; a subsequent post will cover the remainder. The species that I did not photograph either do not visit feeders or are only present seasonally in the country.

Trinidad and Tobago sits at the junction of South America and the Caribbean, and its unusual diversity of hummingbird species is due to its recent geological separation from the Venezuelan coast and the diversity of habitats it retains. Both Trinidad and Tobago are fragments of the South American continental shelf that were once connected to the mainland and later became isolated as sea levels and tectonics changed. Trinidad was connected to South America via a land bridge during the last glacial maximum, 10,000-12,000 years ago. The white-chested emerald population restricted to Trinidad and the white-tailed sabrewing restricted to Tobago show that measurable biological divergence can occur over relatively short timescales once island populations are isolated.

Hermits (subfamily Phaethornithinae) diverged from all other hummingbirds early enough in the family’s evolutionary history that they are sometimes described as a parallel radiation. They share several features that distinguish them from typical hummingbirds: bills that are long and strongly curved (matching the curved tubular flowers they prefer, particularly Heliconia), plumage that is brown or green rather than iridescent, and a foraging strategy — trap-lining — in which each individual follows a memorized route through the forest, visiting widely spaced flowers in sequence rather than defending a single patch. Because trap-liners visit many individual plants across a large area, they tend to carry pollen between plants that are far apart, making them important cross-pollinators over distances that territorial hummingbirds rarely cover. Male hermits do not defend territories at all; instead, they gather in loose groups (leks), where each male sings from a fixed perch to attract females. Females select mates and then nest and raise young entirely on their own.

Green Hermit (Phaethornis guy):

Little Hermit (Phaethornis longuemareus):

Rufous-breasted Hermit (Glaucis hirsutus):

The rufous-breasted hermit is the primary and perhaps the unique pollinator of the deer meat (Centropogon cornutus) flower:

Here is a rufous-breasted hermit on its nest, built under the leaf of a Heliconius:

Now moving on from the hermits (subfamily Phaethornithinae), the rest of my photos are of species of typical hummingbirds (subfamily Trochilinae).

The white-necked jacobin (Florisuga mellivora) has been studied extensively because a proportion of adult females look like males. In most hummingbirds, the two sexes are clearly different in appearance, with males being more colorful. In the jacobin, all juveniles of both sexes bear the same ornamented, male-like plumage. As they mature, about 80% of females change to the typical muted female pattern, but roughly 20% retain the male-like appearance into adulthood. The leading hypothesis is that this reduces harassment by territorial males: for reasons I do not understand, male jacobins tend to aggressively harass and drive off female jacobins during feeding, while ignoring other males.  What makes this interesting for biologists is that it demonstrates that colorful, male-like ornamentation in females can arise through means other than sexual selection.

[JAC: I bet some chowderhead would say this bird has three sexes because of the dimorphism in females]

Male pattern white-necked jacobin:

Female pattern white-necked jacobin:

Long-billed Starthroat (Heliomaster longirostris):

The white-tailed sabrewing (Campylopterus ensipennis) occurs only on Tobago and in a small area of northeastern Venezuela. When Hurricane Flora hit Tobago in September 1963, it destroyed much of the Main Ridge Forest Reserve; the sabrewing population appeared to have been eliminated entirely and the species was presumed locally extinct for eleven years, until individuals were confirmed to have survived in 1974. Current estimates for the Tobago population range from several hundred to over 1,000 birds.

White-tailed Sabrewing male:

White-tailed Sabrewing female:

Readers’ wildlife photos

April 3, 2026 • 8:15 am

Edmund Ault has sent us some photos of mallard (Anas platyrhynchos) ducklings, and you can never see too many of these.  (We should have some in Botany Pond by April 19.)  Edmund’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

These ducklings are on the River Witham, in the centre of Grantham, Lincolnshire, and are the first I have seen this year. I regularly feed the ducks on this stretch of river, but I wasn’t aware that there was a nest until I saw the brood this morning; I think they must have hatched first thing this morning (31st March). And what a brood it is: 16 ducklings!

Most of the brood are sheltering under their mother:

More:


The mother duck led her brood for a walk away from the river; when she got back to the river she happily jumped off a small concrete wall (about 3 feet high) and expected her brood to follow suit – which all of them did, although reluctantly:

The brood moved upstream and tried to scale a weir; although the weir is only about a foot high the rush of water was far too great for them and eventually they turned around and went back:

Readers’ wildlife photos: a paucity

April 2, 2026 • 8:15 am

I have enough photos for about 1½ wildlife posts, the half-post being a collection of singletons.  I’m saving all these to fill in lacunae, but as you see there’s a need for more photos. There was a time when I didn’t have to beg for photos, but since people haven’t sent many in, yes, I’m on my knees. At any rate, if you have good photos, of the quality normally posted here, by all means send them in.

Thank you!

Readers’ wildlife photos

March 30, 2026 • 8:15 am

I’m pretty much out of photos, so please send some in. Thanks!

Today’s photos comr from Jan Malik and were taken in New Jersey. Jan’s captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

Here are a few pictures from my walk on the first day of spring in the New Jersey Botanical Garden in Ringwood, NJ. The quality isn’t the best (long distance, heavy cropping, fast‑moving subjects, and, let’s be honest, a mediocre photographer), but the series gives a sense of what early spring feels like for the birds.

Tree Swallows (Tachycineta bicolor) have arrived in the Northeast from their wintering grounds in the Caribbean. The first task for the males is to secure a nesting site. A natural tree cavity will do well, but those are scarce, so human‑made nest boxes are highly prized:

There are no property rights in the swallow world. A box is yours only if you can defend it, and a challenger usually appears sooner rather than later:

Both birds are males, judging by their metallic blue sheen and their persistence in aerial combat;

Outside the breeding season, Tree Swallows can be quite social, but securing a nesting site takes precedence over chivalry. No swallow lady is going to elope with a nestless beau:

Nest boxes are fitted with metal predator guards meant to deter squirrels and rat snakes. This one, however, wouldn’t slow down a determined squirrel for long:

Sometimes these fights end badly. Not because one bird actually kills the other, but because a damaged wing is effectively a death sentence:

The combat pauses briefly when a Red‑shouldered Hawk (Buteo lineatus) appears, circling in the thermals to gain altitude on its northward migration. Both swallows take shelter in a nearby tree until the danger passes:

Once the hawk moves on, the duel resumes, with both birds circling around the prize they’re fighting for:

Their Latin name suits them well — they are indeed “fast‑moving, two‑colored” birds. Their high airspeed is a challenge for inexperienced photographers. It doesn’t help that they’re smaller than an average sparrow and weigh only about 20 grams. No way they could tow a coconut, even in tandem:

I’ve had better luck photographing them during nesting season, when they fly more predictably while hunting insects on the wing. In this aerial melee, though, their flight is wildly erratic:

Eventually, the winner of this round inspects his real estate. The duel lasted a little under an hour, with both birds spending most of that time in the air and burning a lot of energy: