Category: landscapes

Readers’ wildlife photos

February 16, 2026 • 8:15 am

Dean Graetz has come through with a set of images from the outback of Australia. His notes and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge his photos by clicking on them. Dean has added links to two videos, one of them his.

And send in your wildlife photos! Once again, this is the last batch I have.

Australian Landscape Images

Being geo-patriots, we frequently travelled and camped in the remote Australian Outback, aka ‘The Bush’, which is about 70% of the continental area.  Our interest was landscapes – their vista, and the living and fossil lifeforms they contained.  Here is a series of landscape photos chosen by their appeal summarised as one word.

Bliss

Dusk: Site chosen on extensive plain – see horizon.  A table set for two, one-saucepan meal on gas burner, and swags (bedroll) to be positioned and occupied last.  A near cloudless sky with dry airmass promises a dome of stars all night.  Bliss!:

Beginning

It is always entrancing to witness the silent illumination and transient colours of a landscape as our world turns to the Sun.  Always, you see detail and colours that you didn’t appreciate during the previous dusk.  This is a sandy bed of a large but ephemeral creek – a great campsite.  The stark, dead (Eucalypt) trees germinated with the 1974 floods only to be killed by a wildfire some 20 years later.  Such is life:

Reboot

A ‘Spinifex’ (actually Triodia) grassland wildfire: hot and lethal, reducing all in its path to ashes.  This hummock grassland type covers about 25% of the continent.  Ignited by lightning or people, such fires are frequent.  With the first rain post-fire, the Triodia regenerates from seed and roots, faster than competing woody plants.  So, repeated fires – burning your neighbours – is a sustainable way to persist:

Success

Heavy rains in 2009 triggered a massed pelican breeding.  Thousands of birds gathered at one location, mated and successfully bred.  More details are here.  Success in this time-dependent gamble is shown by the chicks (darker heads) are now as large as the parent birds.  All life is a Game: If you win , you stay in the Game:

Bugger

A feral camel (Dromedary [Camelus dromedarius] single hump) enjoying an uncommonly lush grassland.  Imported in the mid-1800s, camels facilitated the exploration and settlement of Outback Australia.  Displaced by motorized vehicles in the1920s, instead of a bullet, they were abandoned to die out.  But they didn’t.  Then a couple of hundred camels is now a large feral population of at least 600,000 damaging pests – a significant multi-million dollar problem.  In the Southern Hemisphere, a well-intentioned action resulting in a disastrous outcome is widely known as a Bugger, made famous by this Toyota video:

Mute

A rock engraving, a graphic message from a pre-literate time, meticulously pitted on a vertical rock face.  What can be inferred from it?  In order of certainty, it was done by a male, likely over a working period of 3-5 days, at least 10,000 years ago.  In spite of much speculation, we cannot ever really know the message or the audience, a realization that sometimes evokes a puzzling tinge of sadness:

Harsh

The Pilbara region is Australia’s harshest landscape.  It is hot –(recorded 160 consecutive days of above 100°F (38°C)), and essentially water- and treeless, and rendered unfriendly by the swarm of small spiny hummocks of Spinifex (Triodia).  Yet prospectors and geologists continue to search here for mineral riches.  After we found the rocks containing a fossil stromatolite, dated at 3.4 billion years, and then thinking about Deep Time, we forgot about the current temperature and Spinifex spines:

Serenity

Why do we find a slow-flowing river so timeless, relaxing and peaceful?  In 1925, two men, Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein, wrote their explanation as the words of the song ‘Old Man River’.  A truly timeless contribution to our culture that you are probably silently singing right now:

Awe

This image captures a mind-stretching contrast in ages between the biological world and the geological world.  In the foreground are several species of ephemeral  plants – bright, colourful, with a life spans of months to a year or so.  In the background, the blood red rocks looking sharp edged and resistant, are dated at more than 2.5 billion years.  The smallest units of geological dating, millions of years, are beyond the reckoning of biologists, yet life was present on earth when those background rocks were being formed.  The Deep Time of Life is right up there with the Rocks:

Me

A densely painted gallery in Arnhem Land, northern Australia.  The gallery contains older figures – devil-devil figures (LHS), a python and several crocodiles (Middle) – all overpainted by numerous, modern (less than 100 years) ‘hands’.  The ‘hands’ are not stencils or imprints.  They are deliberate drawings infilled with colour.  The overall impression of the modern ‘hands’ layer is just exuberant happiness celebrating ‘Me’, ‘Look at Me’, by the many painters who contributed.  No deep cultural significance just an expression of the ‘joy of life’ in vivid colour.  The longer you scan this image, the more surely you will smile:

Renewal

It was a hurried camp selected in falling light with the best site option being a desert track in the sea of (flowering) Spinifex.  All that is forgotten now as you slowly wake in the golden light of a quiet and calm dawn, along with the smell of dew-dampened sand.  Life is good!:

Readers’ wildlife photos

February 8, 2026 • 8:15 am

Today’s photos come from Ephraim Heller, who took photos at Yellowstone. Ephraim’s captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge his photos by clicking on them.

I spent the last week of January in Yellowstone National Park hoping to photograph a wide variety of wildlife. It was a surprisingly unsuccessful trip. While the bison and coyotes cooperated, I never spotted any other mammals. Absent were foxes, wolves, otters, martens, ermine, bobcats, mountain lions, bighorn sheep, and mountain goats. I suspect that it was due to a combination of bad luck and the least snow in everyone’s memory, so (a) it was harder to spot wildlife in the sagebrush, and (b) animals were up in the hills rather than in the valleys and on the roads. Too bad!

American Bison (Bison bison):

Coyotes (Canis latrans):

Pronghorn (Antilocapra americana) during blue hour, after sunset:

Common ravens (Corvus corax) discussing politics:

Elon Musk’s new Robo-Raven? Raven Model X? Or just another banded raven wearing a transmitter to stay connected to social media?:

A bald eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus):

American dipper (Cinclus mexicanus):

The folks with whom I was traveling wanted to visit the Grizzly & Wolf Discovery Center, a nonprofit wildlife park located in the town of West Yellowstone. I normally don’t photograph animals in zoos. It’s like shooting fish in a barrel, which is a poor metaphor because shooting fish in a barrel with a camera would be quite challenging. So the wolves (Canis lupus) and grizzly bear (Ursus arctos horribilis) in the following photos are not wild.

I also normally don’t shoot landscapes, but I liked the mood of the morning steam rising from this pool at the Mammoth Hot Springs:

Readers’ wildlife photos

January 27, 2026 • 8:15 am

This is the last batch I have, so please send in your good wildlife photos. I know some of you out there are hoarding them. Don’t make me beg!

Fortunately, UC Davis math professor Abby Thompson has sent some photos of life in tide pools. Abby’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge her photos by clicking on them.

The weather over New Year’s was stormy; most of these pictures were taken when the rain let up for a few hours.   There are generally fewer creatures visible at this time of year in any case-—the big surge in intertidal species happens in the spring in Northern California.   An exception was one particular species of nudibranch,  Phidiana hiltoni, of which there were dozens for some reason.

Genus Heptacarpus (some kind of shrimp). Not a great photo, but the color is true, and if you look closely you can see she’s carrying eggs:

Superfamily Mytiloidea (some kind of mussel). Tidepools make you very aware of how much we don’t know.  This mussel species moved into my local pools in 2022, and this ID is still the best I have for it:

Pisaster ochraceus (Ochre star) Admiring his reflection:

Pollicipes polymerus (Gooseneck barnacle). The red “lips” on this cluster (common this time of year) I’ve read variously are because of the shade they’re in, the cool weather, high hemoglobin levels, or all of the above:

A baby gooseneck barnacle:

Velutina velutina (velvet shell snail):

Family Ampithoidae (some kind of amphipod). Again not a great photo but the spectacular color is true. The next photo shows the whole animal:

Family Ampithoiuidae:

Phidiana hiltoni (nudibranch) This was the species there were dozens of, with very few other species putting in an appearance:

It cleared up just at sunset one day, for this nice view over Bodega Head:

Readers’ wildlife photos

January 21, 2026 • 8:15 am

Well, this is the last batch of photos I have, so you know what to do.

Today’s contribution is from Ephraim Heller, this time with photos from America rather than Brazil. Ephraim’s captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

It has been a busy January on the Snake River in Grand Teton National Park.

After a warm early winter, a few weeks ago we finally had a hard freeze. A branch of the Snake River froze solid. However, there is a location where a warm spring feeds into the branch and this inlet stayed open. Hundreds of Utah sucker fish (Catostomus ardens) were trapped in this area of open water surrounded by ice, isolated from the main body of the Snake River. Naturally, this provided a smorgasbord for the local bald eagles and coyotes.

As I observed the Utah suckers at various times of day, I noticed that in the late afternoon they would all rise to the surface and expose their dorsal fins. Intrigued, I queried my AI which informed me that this is a matter of oxygen dynamics:

  • The warm water holds less oxygen than cold water, and thermal springs typically have low dissolved oxygen content due to high temperatures.
  • In confined areas with high fish density, oxygen is rapidly depleted.
  • Fish respond to low oxygen levels by “piping” or “aquatic surface respiration” (ASR) when oxygen levels drop below critical thresholds. This behavior involves positioning at the water surface with mouths/dorsal fins exposed to access the oxygen-rich surface layer. This behavior indicates that the fish are stressed.

However, the AI also stated that “Aquatic plants produce oxygen through photosynthesis during daylight, with peak production in late afternoon. At night, plants consume oxygen through respiration. Dissolved oxygen levels are highest in late afternoon and lowest just before dawn.” This doesn’t seem consistent with the timing I observed.

I don’t know how much of this is true vs. AI hallucination, but it sounds plausible to me. I’d appreciate it if the ichthyologists and limnologists among the readers would confirm or refute this story.

Now for the photos:

Here are the Utah sucker fish at the surface of the open water pool in the evening, trapped by the surrounding ice:

Here is a close up of the fish at the surface:

Every so often the fish would go into a frenzy at the surface. I don’t know why. It was unrelated to anything I saw happening at the surface. Here is a bald eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) watching the frenzy and assessing his menu options:

Having made up his mind, the eagle helps himself to a serving of fresh fish:

The common ravens (Corvus corax) have found a lovely rotting fish. Instead of exerting the effort to catch a fresh fish, this eagle has decided that it is easier to steal the carrion:

Bald eagles are kleptoparasites, so when an eagle with energy and initiative catches a fish the other eagles won’t let him dine in peace:

Ravens are smart birds. This one is surely thinking “If those eagle ignoramuses can catch a fish then surely I can do it better.” Unfortunately for him, the fish got away:

In spite of their inability to fish, common ravens are handsome birds:

To my surprise, the North American river otters (Lontra canadensis) who live half a mile downstream have not been dining at the buffet. I think it is because this branch of the river is frozen solid and the otters don’t like traveling on the ice surface for long distances without the safety of accessible water. So I donned my cross country skis and visited them at another, unfrozen branch of the Snake River. They, too, were feasting on Utah suckers:

Also on the river are trumpeter swans (Cygnus buccinator) in the morning mist:

Trumpeters need a long runway to take off. These four are just starting to accelerate:

Once airborne they are graceful:

Finally, this old-time general store sits adjacent to the Snake River in Grand Teton National Park. In this star trail time lapse, the stars are, of course, circling Polaris, the north star. The Tetons are to the left of the store:

Readers’ wildlife photos

January 18, 2026 • 8:15 am

I now have two sets of photos after this one, but I’m still nervous. If you have good wildlife photos, please sent them in. Thanks!

It’s been a cold week in Chicago (right now it’s 9°F or -13°C), and it’s going to be cold this coming week as well. I hope the turtles at the bottom of Botany Pond are okay. But given the weather it’s appropriate that today we have photographs of Antarctica from reader Paul Turpin.  Paul’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

My brother Mark recently returned from a cruise to the Antarctic on the Scenic Eclipse. I told him you loved penguins and he gave me permission to send you these photos.  I believe these are all gentoo penguins [Pygoscelis papua] except for one which included a chinstrap friend [Pygoscelis antarcticus].  The open water photo is when they were at the Antarctic Circle. 

Readers’ wildlife photos

January 17, 2026 • 8:15 am

Thank Ceiling Cat that two readers came through with photos yesterday. Today’s batch includes not butterflies but vertebrates, and is from  Pratyaydipta Rudra, a statistics professor at Oklahoma State University, and his wife Sreemala. The pair share a big bird-and-butterfly website called Wingmates. Their captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

The river otter images from a recent reader’s wildlife photos section inspired me to put together this batch of photos from our fall trip to Southeast Oklahoma when we stumbled upon a group of river otters. Otters, in general, are my favorites due to their fun characters and cool behaviors. However, I was never been able to see North American river otters (Lontra canadensis) close enough to get good enough photos until this encounter.

We (my wife Sreemala and I) were hiking along the river just after sunrise with the hope of finding some cool critters while also enjoying the beautiful foggy atmosphere and the fall foliage. Only a few other people were out at that time. A lady who was coming back greeted us, and noticing our long telephoto lenses, told us that she saw some animals floating on the water that looked like rats. We immediately got excited thinking they must be otters since the other “rat-like” animals such as muskrats or beavers would be pretty unlikely in the fast-flowing stream in that area. River otters, on the other hand, especially enjoy the fast flow and the cascades. Within a few minutes, we were able to locate a group of at least six of them fishing next to the cascades.

Some of them soon moved up on a rock (across the river from us) for resting and doing some morning yoga as we snapped a few photos:

The river otters are quite social, and it’s fun to watch them interact with each other. We watched them for a while and they were quite aware of our presence, but they went about with their own business of grooming, catching fish and crawdads, etc.:

Here are a couple of them swimming in a relatively calmer stretch of the river with reflection of fall foliage:

But, most of the time, the otters stayed close to the cascades. I think it is easier to catch the fishes there as they pop up more, but I might be wrong. You can also see a human (Homo sapiens) fishing in the distance:

Another image of the fast-flowing river with the light of the rising sun on the trees bordering it:

Most of these wider images are captured using my cellphone. I clearly remember that this was the day I figured out that I could capture slow shutter photos using my cellphone and got so excited that I kept taking photos of the stream with different compositions:

These next images are all from one of my favorite parts of Oklahoma. This region in the southeast part of the state features beautiful hilly areas and several small rivers and creeks flowing through them, creating some wonderful scenery— especially during the fall. The two things that make these fall experiences absolutely wonderful are bald cypress (Taxodium distichum) trees and fog along the rivers.

The fall colors on the bald cypress are very different from what most people think of when they think of fall foliage. The fine textures along with the burnt orange coloration make them quite unique. Add to that the fact that these trees can stand right in the water developing “knees” that grow upwards from their roots. There are different theories on what utility they might provide. I am not a biologist so, I will stay away from claiming I understand them:

Here is another creek in the same area that had calmer water allowing for nice reflections of the bald cypresses along it:

Lights and shadows along the creek…:

A White-tailed Deer (Odocoileus virginianus) peaked through the forest:

A handsome Black Vulture (Coragyps atratus) against the fall foliage:

Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias) in a bald cypress:

Great Blue Herons are abundant here, and they can add to the magical scenes with morning fog along the river. Here’s one sitting on a bald cypress while a group of Double-crested Cormorants (Nannopterum auritum) swim by:

Another magical scene. The birds (cormorants) again add to the already beautiful scene. The fog makes the scene look like a painting:

This particular tree from the previous photo and this photo is a famous one in the park and a good photography subject during the fall. On this particular morning, I was lucky to capture this scene with a tiny amount of sunlight on the foggy scene when a Great Blue Heron flew in. This image won me an international photography contest award. It was just about being at the right place at the right time:

Sreemala was standing to my left shooting birds in flight using her telephoto lens while I was trying to get the tree with its reflection using a wide lens. She also noticed the heron flying in and captured her own version with her telephoto lens. This resulting image has its own flavor with the bird bigger in the frame, but she was unlucky to be holding the telephoto at that moment as she missed out on the reflection and the full view of the tree. It turns out that it’s really about being at the right place at the right time with the right lens!:

It’s totally possible for someone to like Sreemala’s image more, but my rule would still work as you can then say that she ended up having the “right” lens at that moment.

Oklahoma may not have the same reputation as Texas or Louisiana for the bald cypress fall colors, but we have our own nook around this corner of the state, and I absolutely cherish every trip down there.

Readers’ wildlife photos

January 15, 2026 • 8:16 am

We’re saved again, for one day, as reader Rodney Graetz from Canberra has sent in some lovely photos from a remote corner of Australia. Rodney’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge his photos by clicking on them. The three borrowed images are, I’m told, in the public domain.

Here is a series of landscape photos from a tourist boat journey along the Kimberley coastline from Darwin (Northern Territory) to Broome (Western Australia).  The distance, as the crow flies, was 1110 km (690 mi) but by hugging the coastline, the unrecorded distance was likely doubled.  We made land visits on 10 of the 12-day journey:

Our starting point, the Darwin coastline, is lapped by the Timor Sea.  It is shallow and muddy, in contrast to our Broome destination.  Like Broome, Darwin was targeted and bombed by the Japanese in February 1942.  Today, among the lush Darwin city coastline gardens, is a simple memorial honouring the 91 crew of the USS Peary, the United States Navy’s greatest loss in Australian waters.

Departing Darwin, we slowly merged with the mighty Indian Ocean whose colour and cloud streets suggested warmth, productivity and excitement.  We travelled in early June, too early to encounter the estimated 40,000 Humpback Whales travelling up from the Antarctic (June – November) to calve, nurse and then mate in these warm and safe waters  Next time!

At last, an edge of the NW corner of the Australian continent, revealing a flat and layered landscape.  The cliffs are massive, and the rock type is obviously hard because there is little sandy beach.

The Edge close up, and as predicted.  Note the tiny figures in the lower left corner.  The massive rocks are a hard Paleoproterozoic sandstone aged 1-1.9 billion years.  They are ever varied and spectacular:

Being drone-deficient, I’ve borrowed this image to illustrate this monsoonal landscape functioning.  During ‘The Wet’ (Nov–Mar), sufficient rainfall accumulates on the background plateau for a flow to eventually reach the edge and fall as spectacular waterfalls early in ‘The Dry’ ( Mar-Nov).

Downstream from the waterfalls, slow moving water combined with the incursion of plants, result in species-rich landscapes, such as this small idyllic wetland:

‘Salties’, aka Saltwater crocodile, were common neighbours at our landings.  Maneaters?  Yes, but only of the deserving at a rate of fewer than one person per year.  The ‘gaping’ is not a threat display but thermoregulation, of cooling.  Looking past the teeth, they are handsomely ornamented and coloured animals.  In the water, they are sleek!:

For geographic and celestial reasons, the tidal ranges along this coast are among the highest globally (± 10 metres).  A consequence of this, and a rocky, indented coastline, is the creation of Horizontal Waterfalls, where six times a day, huge volumes of water are forced through constricting narrows, as shown here.  Spectacular and hazardous:

The edge of a vast inshore reef (400 km², 154 sq mi) rapidly shedding water as the tide drops about 10 metres.  It is a visual and turbulent spectacle – the reef appears to rise up – and shed streams of water containing stranded fish eagerly sought by waiting birds, fish and sharks.  This one image could not capture the turbulence and action.  Details are here and an overview here:

Contemplative natural beauty of the coast was commonplace, such as here, Raft Point.  With the Dawn behind us, the red rocks and lush vegetation (including iconic Boab trees) are in contrast with the ocean, and on its horizon, small red rocky islands urge a visit:

Nearby Steep Island is another view that repays contemplation.  Why is it so?:

Journey’s end and Broome colouring contrasts with that of the previous days.  Here the rock and sands are red with an aquamarine ocean.  Tidal variation remains high.  The biological focal point is the adjacent Roebuck Bay, the background in this image:

To avoid lethal winters, some 100, 000 migratory birds fly from the Pacific low latitude coastal areas of China etc. to Australia along the East Asian-Australasian Flyway.  Roebuck Bay, a primary destination, is nationally protected as one RAMSAR wetland.  Bird lovers closely watch their comings and goings:

Finally, in the 1940s, both Darwin and Broome experienced the destructive impacts of war.  Now, in both locations, the stark remnants of those impacts remain submerged, slowly disappearing, accelerated by the living world.  That is a good thing: