Readers’ wildlife photos

June 15, 2026 • 8:30 am

We have a batch of photos, sans captions, from reader Roger Lambert, who does give an introduction (indented below). His words are indented:

We just had a bit of a heat wave this past week in Vermont, so I have some photos for your consideration of Vermont’s rivers and lakes to cool folks off.

Looking east over Lake Champlain at sunset from a cabin we rented with friends.

Looking southwest into sunset from Burlington Waterfront which has a marina.

Looking due west from SandBar State park on Lake Champlain with heavy fog rolling in:

Looking north, also from SandBar park at shoreline along South Hero. New York State is about ten miles to the west:

View of the Otter Creek as it passes through the center of Middlebury, Vt.:

View to the west at sunset with dock, from a (different) rental property on Lake Champlain:

 View of a perennially flooded section of a wildlife preservation area just south of SandBar State park. This was a set-up shot for focus and composition at dusk. I wanted to to take a long-exposure picture illuminated by moonlight after dark, but as i waited in the dark for the moon, I heard an animal with fairly heavy footsteps coming towards me on the shore. I got the heck out of Dodge!:

iew of the LaMoille River from just north of Cambridge, VT. According to Google: “The name “LaMoille” is famously considered a geographical accident. Early French explorers originally named the waterway La Mouette (River of the Gulls) due to the abundance of shorebirds, but a mapmaker famously forgot to cross the “T”s, leaving La Mouelle—which eventually morphed into Lamoille”.  There is a home about twenty feet to the right out of picture on that outcropping of rock – an exciting place to live!:

View looking west directly into the sunset on Arrowhead Mountain Lake in East Georgia, Vt. This is an HDR image using seven different exposures in Photoshop before it could be done automatically. It was about a 25-step process to set up exposure gradients, and at one point required pressing four keys simultaneously. And it didn’t work!  Later, I discovered that there was a typo in my instructions, and when I pressed tyhose four keys, and it worked, I let out a war whoop so loud that my wife rushed in thinking I was having a heart attack.:

Readers’ wildlife photos

June 14, 2026 • 8:15 am

Again we have the last batch of wildlife photos on hand.  Send yours in, please!

Today’s group of photos come from reader Ephraim Heller; it’s the second part of a two-part series (part 1 is here). Ephraim’s text is indented, and you can enlarge his photos by clicking on them.

Little St. Simons Island is an 11,000-acre barrier island on the coast of Georgia. Much of it is salt marsh, with a few islands in freshwater ponds for wading bird rookeries. I was lucky to spend a week there in April during the nesting season. My last post focused on the wading birds; this one focuses on other species.

A well camouflaged American alligator (Alligator mississippiensis) lurking in the rookery pond:

American oystercatchers (Haematopus palliatus) are obligate specialists on intertidal invertebrates that feed in two ways: finding a mussel or oyster with its shell slightly ajar, the bird inserts the bill and severs the adductor muscle before the shell can close; alternatively, it hammers the shell directly to fracture it.

I took these photos on the shore where the oystercatchers were nesting. The sustained 40 mph winds whipped the beach into an abrasive sandstorm, which bothered me much more than it bothered the birds:

Royal terns (Thalasseus maximus) are among the larger terns on the Atlantic coast:

Boat-tailed grackles (Quiscalus major) have a mating system I have not previously encountered: females aggregate in colonial nesting groups while dominant males compete for access to the entire group. Although the dominant male at a colony performs the majority of observed copulations, genetic analysis shows he sires fewer than 40% of nestlings. Females regularly copulate with other males outside the colony and return to lay eggs that are not the dominant male’s offspring.

The long toes of the common gallinule (Gallinula galeata) allow it to walk atop floating vegetation.

Red-bellied woodpeckers (Melanerpes carolinus) drum on resonant surfaces to broadcast their territories and for mate attraction. The tree cavities they excavate and abandon become nests for other species, such as owls, bluebirds, and flying squirrels. They often cache food in bark crevices.

The common garter snake (Thamnophis sirtalis). Garter snakes are viviparous, giving birth to live young rather than laying eggs, with typical litters of 15–40 babies.

Readers’ wildlife photos

June 12, 2026 • 8:15 am

Voilà: my last batch of photos, this time a small selection from Norm Gilinsky, including two species we have in Botany Pond.  Norm’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge his photos by clicking on them.

All of these photos were taken with an ordinary iPhone on June 1 on the eastern shore of Lake Washington just east of Seattle.

Extravaganza:

Here in the Pacific Northwest, the poikilotherms have come back to life, finding homoiotherms by their sides. This picture, and the others, are from the Kirkland side (east side) of Lake Washington. Mallard ducks (Anas platyrhynchos) and Red-eared Sliders (Trachemys scripta elegans) living the lush life:

Red-eared Sliders close-up:

Red-eared Sliders (Trachemys scripta elegans), ebullient in the late spring warmth. Red-eared Sliders have driven our Western Pond Turtle (Actinemys marmorata) almost to the brink of extinction, but we love them nonetheless:

Afternoon snooze:

We came across this sleepy bunch of Mallards (Anas platyrhynchos) just off a walking path in the Lake Washington nearshore wetland. People were gawking at them and photographing them, but they didn’t care. Maybe they even liked the attention:

Lounging Cottontails:

June 1 was a warm one in western Washington this year, and these Eastern Cottontail bunnies (Sylvilagus floridanus) were taking dust baths and lounging. Living life to the max.

Nootka Rose:

One of our native roses (Rosa nutkana). As with all the life form in this set, this Nootka was all puffed up at its showy best:

Readers’ wildlife photos

June 11, 2026 • 8:15 am

Mark Sturtevant has been kind enough to send the last batch of photos I have, some lovely ones of arthropods. Mark’s captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge his photos by clicking on them.

The various arthropods shown here were all photographed from my area in eastern Michigan. Most were taken outdoors where I found them, but a few were staged shots. Let’s begin with spiders.

First up is a species of Hammock SpiderPityohyphantes sp. These make a small but densely tangled web across leaves and branches in the woods.

Next is an Orchard Orbweaver spider (Leucauge venusta). This is as I found her along a forest trail, but usually they are in their web at an angle where it’s awkward to photograph them. I don’t know what the growths are on the leaf:

The next two pictures are staged focus stacks from the ‘ol dining room table. First is a male Long-jawed Orbweaver (Tetragnatha sp), followed by a slightly older picture of a female for comparison. I favor staged settings for these spiders since they are extremely flighty, and I just don’t have the inclination to lay down in the tick-infested grass near water where they are abundant. What I always say about these very elongate spiders is that their startling appearance is simply because they use their long chelicerae and fangs as delicate chopsticks for handling prey, and they are as harmless to you as a piece of Dandelion fluff. The extra gnarly chelicerae on the male are further modified for mating. During that dangerous time, the pair will grapple face to face with their fangs, and the male uses those upward spurs to hold open the fangs of the female. His very long pedipalps are meanwhile needed to transfer sperm to her genital openings which are waaaay back on her abdomen. This can be seen in the linked picture:

Moving on to insects, next up is an Ichneumon wasp. With the help of iNaturalist, I am inclined to identify this parasitic wasp as Coelichneumon navus:

The common woodland fly in the next picture is possibly a wasp mimic, but it is certainly a predator. It is a species of Robber Fly belonging to the “Laphria canis complex” of very similar species:

The moth shown in the next picture is in the Tiger Moth family (Arctiidae). This is the Isabella Tiger Moth Pyrrharctia isabella, but possibly everyone knows the caterpillar, which is the famous Wooly Bear. The moth came to the porch light one night:

I can’t identify everything, even with the considerable help of AI. All I got for the caterpillar in this picture is that it is some species of “inchworm”, family Geometridae, but I already knew that. The dark puncture mark on the body may mean that it has been parasitized, and if so then it is doomed:

The next picture is a first for me. This is a Pennsylvania Ambush Bug nymph (Phymata pennsylvanica). I have seen high hundreds of adults, which are sit-and-wait predators on flowers and decorated to resemble flower parts. But like my failure to ever see a live Cornish hen (has anyone?), I have never seen a juvenile Ambush bug! I believe that the youngsters stay down low in the foliage:

The insects in the next two pictures are commonly called Red-banded Leafhoppers (Graphocephala coccinea). This species is polymorphic in that some are green and red, and others are a lovely blue and red, as shown with the mating pair. That picture is about 10 years old, but I’ve brought it back for comparison. The picture was taken with my olde camera that had a simple 50mm lens converted to a macro lens with extension tubes. If anyone wants to try out macrophotography, you really don’t need a true macro lens. At least not right away:

The final picture is a species of planthopper that I have not seen for a long time. I call this the “White Derbid”, after its color and its family name Derbidae. The species is Otiocerus coquebertiiand like the other odd -looking members of its family, it may be found by slowly walking along forest trails and peering under the leaves of tree:

Readers’ wildlife photos

June 10, 2026 • 9:30 am

I got two new batches of photos!  So hooray for the readers! Today’s photos come from Ephraim Heller, whose captions and IDs are indented. You can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

Little St. Simons Island is an 11,000-acre barrier island on the coast of Georgia. Much of it is salt marsh, with a few islands in freshwater ponds for wading bird rookeries. I was lucky to spend a week there in April, during the nesting season. This post focuses on the wading birds, and my next post will focus on other species.

I got up before sunrise every day to bicycle to the rookery:

Like flamingos, roseate spoonbills (Platalea ajaja) cannot synthesize pink pigments on their own. Instead, the carotenoid pigments accumulated from shrimp, crayfish, and other invertebrates eaten over a lifetime are deposited directly into growing feathers. Young birds have pale, nearly white plumage; the color deepens progressively with age, so a deep magenta spoonbill is also an older one.

The distinctive, flattened, spatulate bill is a swept laterally through shallow water with the mandibles slightly open, detecting prey by touch rather than sight, necessary in turbid water.

During courtship, male and female spoonbills initially interact with some aggression, then settle into ritualized exchanges: perching close together, presenting sticks to each other, and clasping bills.

Anhinga (Anhinga anhinga) lack waterproofed outer plumage that repels water. While enabling the birds to pursue fish underwater, they must subsequently dry their feathers before they can fly efficiently. Hence, the familiar spread-winged posture seen on sunny perches. Wing-spreading also serves thermoregulatory functions, helping the birds warm up after a cold swim.

Stick-carrying by the male is pair bonding behavior: the male begins nest construction before he has a mate, placing large sticks in tree forks, and continues to supply material while the female does most of the actual building.

During breeding, the bill of the tricolored heron (Egretta tricolor) shifts to a brilliant blue with a black tip, the loral skin becomes cobalt blue, and the iris turns scarlet red. The individuals I saw must not yet have been in their breeding plumage.

The prehistoric-looking wood stork (Mycteria americana) is the only stork species that breeds in North America. The species was listed as federally endangered in 1984 after its population dropped more than 75% from 1930s levels, primarily due to habitat alteration in the Florida Everglades. It was downlisted to threatened in 2014 following population expansion northward into Georgia and the Carolinas. Georgia is now a stronghold. In 2026, the federal government removed the species from the threatened list, reflecting a breeding population estimated at 10,000–14,000 nesting pairs across roughly 100 colonies.

Wood storks require falling water levels at foraging sites. As water recedes, prey concentrates in shrinking pools, providing the density of fish that a nesting pair needs to raise chicks. A pair with active nestlings requires approximately 400 pounds of fish over a breeding season.

The great egret’s (Ardea alba) breeding plumage almost drove the species to extinction. In spring, the loral skin shifts from yellow to a vivid lime green, and long, filamentous plumes (aigrettes, from the French for egret) grow from the shoulder region, trailing over the back. Each aigrette consists of approximately 35 strands of slim feathers. These plumes develop for the breeding season and are shed afterward.

In the late 19th century, the aigrettes for the millinery (hat-making) trade commanded prices per ounce that were twice that of gold, and hunters shot entire breeding colonies in a single event. The resulting public backlash was instrumental in forming the early conservation movement in the United States. In 1896, Harriet Hemenway and her cousin Minna Hall organized Boston society women into a boycott of feathered hats, which led directly to the founding of the Massachusetts Audubon Society and eventually the National Audubon Society. The Massachusetts Audubon Society, in turn, helped pass the 1897 Massachusetts law prohibiting the feather trade, the 1900 Lacey Act, and eventually the 1918 Migratory Bird Treaty Act. The great egret is now the symbol of the National Audubon Society.

10-12. In the colony, the male selects a nest territory and then displays: calling, performing circular flights, and stretching the neck upward with the bill pointed skyward. Males bring sticks to females sitting on nests for pair-bond reinforcement.

The aigrettes of the snowy egret (Egretta thula) were even more valuable to plume hunters than those of the great egret, and by around 1900 scientists estimated that as few as 250 snowy egrets remained in North America. Numbers recovered rapidly once hunting stopped, but habitat loss remains an issue. In these photos you can see that the loral skin of some birds is yellow (non-breeding plumage) and in other birds it is pink (breeding plumage).

Readers’ wildlife photos

June 9, 2026 • 8:15 am

I forgot to post part 2 of Abby Thompson‘s latest batch of California intertidal photos, so here they are (the first batch is here). Abby’s captions and IDs are indented, and, as always, you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

The stars of this set, improbably enough, are two flatworms.   The first two pictures are of the elegant Eurylepta californica, which I think of as the “art-deco flatworm”.  It’s rare up here; I’ve found it once before.  The next flatworm (Family Euryleptidae) is an undescribed species.   It’s been recorded several times, almost all in the Monterey Bay area.    This is its third sighting (as recorded on inaturalist) this far north.  There isn’t agreement on the genus. It’s a beauty, and it’s unusual to have such a striking animal remain undescribed.   Both worms are about ¾” long.

Eurylepta californica (striped polyclad flatworm) Art deco flatworm:

Eurylepta californica:

Family Euryleptidae (Yellow frilly flatworm):

The starfish plague of several years ago was devastating along the coast, and several species (like the incredible sunflower stars) have not recovered, but the ochre stars are back with a vengeance.     I see many more of them than of the bat stars, but the next picture is one of each buddying up on a rock above the low tide line.

Patiria miniate and Pisaster ochraceus (bat star (red) and ochre star (yes, purple)):

The next three pictures are a slightly deceptive series.    I’m not sure that the first two pictures really are otter tracks, but the alternative is probably raccoon tracks, and otter is a better match.   They did not, in fact, end on the beach right next to the where I saw the otter in the third picture.   But at least the third picture below is definitely an otter.   This almost surely is a river otter, not a sea otter, as are most seen around here.

Otter tracks:

Close-up of otter tracks:

Lontra canadensis (North American river otter):

Finally, the roof of a cave, with sea anemones (green and pinkAnthopleura xanthogrammica and Anthopleura elegantissima) and sponges (the bright red-orange, not possible to ID from a photo):

Readers’ wildlife photos

June 8, 2026 • 8:15 am

Well, this is the last batch of photos I have, and it’s very sad to run out. How far this Ozymandias has decayed!

But today we have lovely flower photos from Rik Gern of Austin, Texas. Rik’s captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge his photos by clicking on them.

The last two batches of pictures I sent you consisted mostly of images in which a brown earth tone color predominated, so I thought I’d change the pace with a softer and more delicate palette this time.

These pictures were taken in the first few months of the year while taking short walks around the neighborhood in South Austin.

The first pictures are of a blossoming tree, the Mexican Plum (Prunis mexicana). Taking pictures of a tree’s flowers is a different experience from photographing ground  flowers, because it’s more immersive and you feel like you’re stepping into another world. I could live in this world forever!

Mexican Ruella (Ruellia simplex) not only has a beautiful flower, but is a sturdy plant that can survive both drought and flood conditions.

I’d always thought of the beauty below as a Wandering Jew (Tradescantia zebrina), but a search for the Latin name informed me that it is now to be referred to as the *Wandering Dude. The common assumption was that the name referred to Israelites wandering the desert and/or Jews displaced due to persecution, but there was also a 13th century myth of a Jewish man who heckled Jesus while he carried his cross on his way to crucifixion and was then condemned to wander the desert till the second coming. The name “Wandering Jew” is now considered bad because the story of Jesus’ alleged heckler was used to justify anti-Semitism. I had never even heard of the heckler story, so the name seemed benign to me and if anything seemed sympathetic, and the flower seemed like a reminder that even the displaced and wandering can produce beauty. Every Jewish person I’ve mention this to has been surprised and said that they never found the original name offensive. My question is, did the name change protect Jews, or did the Dude culturally appropriate the Jew? Or could the Dude be Jewish? I wonder if we need to consult the Cohen brothers? Whatever you call it, the flowers sure are pretty!

[JAC: I never found the name or the term offensive. In fact, in college I formed a group called “The Wandering Jews,” a group that accepted weird people but did nothing other than that.]

The last flowers are from another tree, the Texas mountain laurel (Dermatophyllum secundiflorum), a hardy plant that smells as good as it looks. Another world I could live in forever!: