Readers’ wildlife photos

May 17, 2026 • 8:15 am

Send in your wildlife photos! I am almost out. Thank you in advance.

Today we have miscellaneous photos from the Catskills taken by reader Jan Malik. Jan’s captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge them by clicking on them.

Here is another batch of pictures from my hikes in the Central Catskills this April and May. They are not too artistic, given the fast pace that a weekend backpacking hike demands, but they give a sample of what common animals a casual hiker can see in these “mountains” (the Catskills are an eroded plateau and, despite being steep in places, they are too low to have an alpine zone).

White‑tailed deer (Odocoileus virginianus), right in the parking lot at a cloudy sunrise. It was slurping water from a muddy puddle despite a clear stream flowing nearby, so it must have been leftover salt that attracted this ungulate. Woodstock residents like their roads well salted. One has to drive carefully at dusk around Woodstock, as there are many deer browsing on lawns and gardens.

In the woodland, I found the first of many red efts of the Eastern newt (Notophthalmus viridescens). This is an intermediate land stage of development between the aquatic larva and adult forms. Red efts have lungs, but air exchange through the skin is also important, supplying 30–40% of their oxygen demand. They travel through the forest litter when it is humid enough—after rain or in the early morning:

This is probably a blue‑headed vireo (Vireo solitarius), collecting nesting materials. If my identification is correct, then it is not possible to tell a male from a female, as they are sexually monomorphic and share rearing duties almost equally. Interestingly, however, a female may desert the nest just before fledging to mate with another available male:

Possibly an Eastern comma (Polygonia comma), found at higher elevation:

Black‑and‑white warbler (Mniotilta varia). I think this is a male. If so, he may be led by a female into the territory of another male to provoke a fight and allow her to judge his fitness. These birds occupy a similar niche to nuthatches and brown creepers; they climb and circle tree trunks to find arthropods:

Eastern towhee (Pipilo erythrophthalmus), male. These colorful sparrows hang around the edges of forest clearings:

Eastern American toad (Anaxyrus americanus americanus), hiding in a ramps patch. I wonder whether they would prey on red efts or if the efts’ foul taste would be a deterrent:

While passing through oak woods rich with acorns, I heard many alarm chirps from Eastern chipmunks (Tamias striatus). Most made themselves scarce as I approached, but one remained on guard duty:

Not a good picture, but here is a dark‑eyed junco (Junco hyemalis). These are hardy birds, staying year‑round in the forest. In winter they form close‑knit flocks with a few dominant individuals and a strict pecking order:

Chipping sparrow (Spizella passerina) on the side of a quiet road. These migrate to more southern states in winter and in summer nest closer to human settlements:

Mourning cloak (Nymphalis antiopa). There were a couple of them in the area, continuously jousting in the air for control of the territory. I see them every spring in that exact spot, but this year they were too engaged in battling each other to stay still, so this is a picture taken a few years back:

Brown creeper (Certhia americana), shown here just a moment after eating a couple of mayflies. They are common enough, but I rarely see them due to their near‑perfect camouflage. Without directly comparing the bill length it is difficult to tell a female from a male:

Readers’ wildlife photos

May 14, 2026 • 8:15 am

UC Davis ecologist Susan Harrison has returned with some photos about serpentine ecology. Susan’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge her photos by clicking on them:

Serpentine ecology at The Cedars (Sonoma County, California)

Serpentine” might be a familiar word if you live in a region with volcanos, earthquakes, and hot springs.  It’s an informal term for ultramafic (very high magnesium and iron) rocks, mainly serpentinite and its parent rock peridotite, as well as the soils formed from these rocks.  The common name comes from the often snakeskin-like appearance of serpentinite.  These rocks are twisted and fractured bits of the Earth’s mantle, first extruded into the ocean crust in midocean spreading centers, then fully or partly metamorphosed by hydration, and finally scraped onto land during the sliding of one tectonic plate under another – this last process being what also produces “ring of fire” volcanos and earthquake zones around the world.

Serpentinite:

Partly serpentinized peridotite:

Botanists and plant evolutionists have long been drawn to the unusual flora of serpentine.  Most plant species are intolerant of its harsh chemistry, especially the scarcity of calcium relative to magnesium, and space is thereby opened for hardier species to adapt and sometimes even speciate on serpentine.  In California’s flora of around 5,500 full species there are just over 1,000 “tolerators” that can grow either on or off of serpentine, and an estimated 255 “endemics” entirely restricted to this difficult soil.

Serpentine endemic plants in California include multiple Jewelflowers (genus Streptanthus, Brassicaceae), which have been studied to understand soil-driven adaptation and speciation.

Hoffman’s Bristly Jewelflower (Streptanthus glandulosus ssp. hoffmani):

Morrison’s Jewelflower (Streptanthus morrisoni), a non-flowering first-year individual:

Serpentine tolerators, like the Sickle-leaved Onion (Allium falcifolium), grow on varied soils.  Sometimes they show adaptive genetic differences between populations on and off of serpentine.

Sickle-leaved Onions:

Today’s photos are from a May 2026 excursion to one of the most remarkable serpentine sites in the world: The Cedars in western Sonoma County, California.  This site was named for its vast stands of Sargent’s Cypress (Cupressus sargentii), a serpentine-endemic tree.

The Cedars:

Part of The Cedars’ magic is that it’s a large (30 square km) and well-isolated block of serpentine within a benign coastal climate.  This seems to be a winning formula for promoting plant evolution, as witness four full species and three subspecies found nowhere else in the world.  Here are two species discovered by botanist Roger Raiche, who devoted decades to exploring and protecting The Cedars.

The Cedars Fairy Lantern (Calochortus raichei):

The Cedars Buckwheat (Eriogonum cedrorum):

A second charm of The Cedars is the surprising abundance of water in its austere landscape, probably because fractured serpentine rock masses tend to store rainwater and release it slowly, and also because many streams on serpentine have chemically cemented beds that create deep pools.  Streambanks here are fringed by Western Azalea (Rhododendron occidentale), Serpentine Columbine (Aquilegia eximia), and the two showy orchids shown below.

California Lady’s Slipper (Cypripedium californicum):

Giant Stream Orchid (Epipactis gigantea var. rubriflorum; photo by Nishanta Rajakaruna): \

The piece de resistance, sine qua non, ne plus ultra of The Cedars is its mineral springs. Until geologists discovered the strange chemistry of these springs in the 1960s, it was not known that serpentinization, the hydration of mantle rock, could occur in near-surface terrestrial environments.  Serpentinization supports anaerobic microbes that are collectively the most abundant life form on Earth; they are considered strong candidates for the origin of life, as well as for the possibility of life on other planets.

The spring known as Mineral Falls:

Part of the spring known as Wedding Cake:

Animal life is relatively scarce on serpentine. Here are two of only 8 bird species we saw in a full day at The Cedars.

Violet-Green Swallow (Tachycineta thalassina) hunting above Austin Creek:

Peregrine Falcon (Falco peregrinus) perched in the middle of a towering cliff:

JAC: I told Susan I couldn’t see the falcon, so she sent me a photo with the bird circled:

My friend Nishanta Rajakaruna has devoted his career to studying serpentine ecosystems around the world.   On field trips like this one, he collects photos of people leaping.

Leaping on serpentine (photo by Nishanta Rajakaruna; that’s me on the right):

Falcon Cam!

May 11, 2026 • 10:45 am

Here’s a live Falcon Cam in New Jersey showing a breeding pair of peregrine falcons (Falco peregrinus).  The FB post about it says that one egg has already started to hatch.  The YouTube notes say this:

Conserve Wildlife Foundation of NJ is happy to partner with Union County to live stream the view of this peregrine falcon nest, which is located on the roof of the County Courthouse in Elizabeth, New Jersey. This view is from within the nestbox and captures more intimate moments between the breeding pair of falcons.

Tune in from time to time to see the babies.

Readers’ wildlife photos

May 10, 2026 • 8:15 am

We have a couple of batches of photos, and today’s come from Pratyaydipa Rudra, a statistician at Oklahoma State, who has sent DUCKS. Pratyay’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

The duck stories from the Botany pond made me look back at some photos that I took while spending time with a group of breeding Wood Ducks (Aix sponsa). These birds obviously gorgeous (the scientific name meaning “water bird in bridal dress”), but they also show some interesting behavior. Below are some of my photos of these cool birds.

One common theme in several of these pictures is the fall color reflection in the pond. The colorful ducks against the reflection of red or golden leaves make for a nice frame. In case you are wondering, this is an adult male:

A closer look at all the iridescences:

The female might not be as eye-catching, but I find female Wood Ducks are quite elegant, especially with the bronze-colored sheen:

Another female floating around. It wasn’t easy to get to the water level at this pond; so, the background is not as clean as I would like it to be:

A male flapping the wings to shake off some water:

Two of them feeding on the ground. It is not uncommon to see them walking around. In fact, they spend significant time on trees and nest in tree cavities (or nest boxes, when available):

Female stretching the tail feathers while resting a rock next to the pond:

Some more preening and grooming…:

Mrs. Woody’s turn to show the wing-flapping skills:

Floating a pond of gold…:

His mate was nearby:

Wood Ducks show sweet mating rituals and tender love:

Some kissing, and seems like the female is ready for it!:

Of course, that leads to some ducklings! Look at those feet!:

Immature Wood Duck floating on the pond:

I will share some more photos of this family in the next edition.

Readers’ wildlife photos

May 6, 2026 • 8:15 am

We have more photos!  Today’s batch comes from Leo Glenn, and were taken in New Zealand. Leo (and his friends’ ) captions are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them:

It’s been a long time since I’ve submitted wildlife photos. I just haven’t taken any recently that I thought were worthy of submission. However, my son, Ossian, and his partner, Emma, are enjoying a semester study abroad program at the University of Otago in Dunedin on the southern island of New Zealand, and they have granted me permission to share some of their photos. All of the photos are on the Otago peninsula.

The birds at the waterline are Variable Oystercatchers, Haematopus unicolor. Photo by Ossian Glenn:


A bull and cow New Zealand Sea Lions, Phocarctos hookeri. Photo by Ossian Glenn.

Juvenile New Zealand Sea Lions enjoying some play time. Photo by Ossian Glenn:

Photo by Ossian Glenn:

Australian Pied Cormorant, Phalacrocorax varius. Photo by Ossian Glenn:

Royal Spoonbill, Platalea regia. Photo by Emma Kulisek:

Northern Royal Albatross, Diomedea sanfordi. Photo by Emma Kulisek. 


South Island Takahe, Porphyrio hochstetteri. Photo by Emma Kulisek:


White-faced Heron, Egretta novaehollandiae, a self-introduced species from Australia. Photo by Emma Kulisek:

Common Redpoll, Acanthis flamea, an introduced species. Photo by Emma Kulisek:

New Zealand Pigeon, Hemiphaga novaeseelandiae. Photo by Emma Kulisek:


New Zealand Bellbird, Anthornis melanura. Photo by Ossian Glenn:

Paradise Shelduck, Tadorna variegata. Photo by Emma Kulisek:

Tui, Prosthemadera novaeseelandiae. Photo by Emma Kulisek:

And a reptile, an Otago Skink, Oligosoma otagense. Photo by Emma Kulisek:

Readers’ wildlife photos

May 1, 2026 • 8:15 am

Well, brothers and sisters, friends and comrades, this is the last batch of photos I have. If you’re feeling generous and have some good wildlife photos, well, you know what to do.

Today’s lot comes from Ephraim Heller: they are manakins and tanagers from Trinidad and Tobago. Ephraim’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

Today we have photos of manakins and tanagers that I photographed on my February visit to Trinidad and Tobago.

The three manakin species in these photographs all engage in lekking. Females choose a partner at the lek, mate, and then depart to build a nest and raise chicks entirely on their own. Males contribute only sperm. This behavior places intense sexual selection pressure on males, driving the evolution of exotic plumage, acrobatic movements, and multi-male performances. I make no comment on potential parallels in human behavior.

Blue-backed manakin (Chiroxiphia pareola) males engage in cooperative lekking. Two males — typically an older dominant individual and a younger subordinate — perform a dance in which they jump over each other on a branch. The female observes, and when she is sufficiently engaged, the subordinate male withdraws and the dominant male completes the mating. In these photos you see one of the males perched on the lekking branch and then performing the jump.

JAC: Here’s a video showing a related lekking species, the Blue manakin (Chiroxiphia caudata) and their remarkable courtship dance. Look at those males lined up, each trying to show he’s a better jumper than the others!

Each white-bearded manakin (Manacus manacus) male clears a small patch of forest floor down to bare earth and maintains one or more bare sticks above it as perches. The display involves rapid leaps between these sticks and the ground accompanied by a shockingly loud cracking sound – it sounds like someone snapping their fingers right next to your ear. It’s produced by the wings connecting above the back, which is enabled by a limb muscle, the scapulohumeralis caudalis, that is the fastest skeletal muscle in any vertebrate. Here you see two white-bearded manakins perched on their lekking branches and preparing to jump to the ground.

JAC: I also added a video of the white-bearded manakin courtship:

The golden-headed manakin (Ceratopipra erythrocephala) male’s lek display includes a “moonwalk” in which it slides backward along a perch. Sadly, I didn’t observe the moonwalk. In these photos the male has the bright yellow head, and you can see a female behind the male in the second photo.

JAC: Here’s a golden-headed manakin male courting, though I can’t really say it’s a “moonwalk.”  They also pop their wings.

This gorgeous bay-headed tanager (Tangara gyrola) stopped me dead in my tracks. It has microstructures in its feathers that scatter light to intensify its hues. In addition, a hidden layer of white or black feathers beneath the outer plumage acts as a reflective backing, boosting the brightness and saturation of the visible colors:

The palm tanager (Thraupis palmarum) is one of the most common birds in Trinidad. The second photo is of the nest, which was conveniently located in a planter on our hotel’s balcony:

White-lined tanager (Tachyphonus rufus) males are glossy black, while females are rufous.

The silver-beaked tanager (Ramphocelus carbo):

Readers’ wildlife photos

April 29, 2026 • 8:15 am

This is it for photo contributions (save for singletons), so please send in your good wildlife photos. Many thanks!

Today’s photos feature DUCKS, and come from reader Jan Malik. (There are other bird’s too.) Jan’s captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

Here are a few common birds from Cape May (the peninsula where the namesake town is located) taken last week. The area with marshes, sand dunes and freshwater ponds at the southern tip of the peninsula next to the lighthouse is called The Meadows. Spring migration has just started but animal traffic was rather light.

Mallard drake (Anas platyrhynchos) viewed from a blind. Hens stayed farther away, in reeds thicket:

A bromance? In the past I have observed and photographed mallard drakes courting one another, so this would be nothing unusual:

No, this is just one male running off a competitor from the pond:

Gadwall (Mareca strepera), hen and drake. This is a cosmopolitan duck species, widespread in Eurasia’s and America’s temperate zone. “Strepera in Latin presumably means “noisy”, but these remained quiet; I suppose a drake can be quite vocal when courting:

The Gadwall drake is less flamboyant than males of other dabbling ducks, but they are patterned with fine gray and brown streaks in breast feathers and black rump patches. That, plus overall neat and symmetrical plumage, speculum visible when flying and vigorous behavior when courting, is perfectly sufficient for a hen to select a mate. I think this humble plumage evolved due to drakes’ staying longer near the nest than many dabbling ducks. For some time – until incubation starts – they do guard it. Thus there must be some pressure to evolve inconspicuous coloration:

Gadwall hens are difficult to tell apart from mallards. All I can spot is the lack of a dark band across the eye and a dark bill, unlike yellow in mallard:

An American species, a blue-winged teal (Spatula discors) male. Contrary to the name, not much blue shows on this drake – blue feathers are mostly revealed in flight:

Blue winged teal, hen. Dark bill and light coloration just behind the bill allow us to tell it is not a mallard, but from a distance these signs are easy to miss:

The teal swam a little too close past the mated gadwalls and the drake let the teal know, not very aggressively but unambiguously, that he was trespassing:

A red-winged blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus) was announcing the extent of his territory by his “cankaree” call. There were many males in the marsh but I didn’t see any females – they might not have arrived yet, and even if they did, they prefer to stay out of sight. Males are highly territorial and fiercely defend their territories. Later in the season it is not unusual for a male redwing to attack a human passerby if a nest happens to be too close to a path. I’ve also seen redwings ride a hawk or an eagle, like a cowboy on a bull:

A flock of Snowy Egrets (Egretta thula) descending on a coastal march at sunrise. They are gregarious compared to the Great Egret, can feed together as a group form dense nesting colonies: