Readers’ wildlife photos

May 12, 2026 • 8:15 am

Reader Ephraim Heller has sent some lovely photos of humpback whales, including their recently-discovered and amazing behavior of bubble-netting.  His captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

Pacific herring (Clupea pallasii) spend most of the year dispersed across the open North Pacific, but each spring they converge on Sitka Sound to spawn. The 2026 spawning biomass was estimated at roughly 233,000 tons of mature herring. This attracts commercial fishermen, fishing birds, Steller sea lions, gray whales, humpback whales (Megaptera novaeangliae), and… me.

Here’s a humpback whale jumping for joy:

And here is Sitka Sound, with Mount Edgecumbe (a dormant volcano) in the background:

The scientific name of humpback whales is Megaptera novaeangliae, meaning “big-winged of New England,” due to their oversized pectoral flippers and first observations off of New England. These flippers increase their agility and enable their unique behavior: bubble-net feeding. Here are views of the baleen:

Bubble-net feeding is not a fixed behavioral pattern; it is a culturally transmitted skill, and not every humpback population practices it. The behavior has been documented extensively in Southeast Alaska, and a long-term study published in January 2026 in Proceedings of the Royal Society B tracked its spread in the Kitimat Fjord System of northern British Columbia over a 20-year period (2004–2023). Of 526 individually identified whales, roughly half were observed bubble-net feeding at least once, with more than 92% of those events occurring in a group context:

The behavior gained momentum after the 2014-2016 marine heat wave (“the blob”) that reduced prey availability across the northeastern Pacific. Researchers interpret this as whales adopting a more efficient foraging strategy in response to environmental stress, and transmitting that knowledge through their social networks:

The hunt begins when a group of humpbacks locates a school of small prey — herring, krill, or juvenile salmon. One whale, often referred to as the “bubble-blower,” dives beneath the school and begins exhaling air through its blowhole while swimming in a tightening upward spiral. The released air rises as a cylindrical curtain of bubbles. Fish do not readily cross this curtain, so as the spiral contracts, the school is compressed into an increasingly dense ball:

Meanwhile, one or more other whales in the group produce “food call” vocalizations: loud, frequency-modulated cries that vibrate the swim bladders of herring, causing them to clump even more tightly together. The calls also appear to serve a coordinating function among the whales themselves, signaling when to begin the final ascent. I could occasionally hear the food calls on the deck of my observation boat:

When the prey is sufficiently concentrated, the group orients below the net and lunges upward in near-unison, mouths agape, through the center of the bubble column. At the surface, each whale engulfs thousands of fish in a single pass, then strains the water out through its baleen plates as it rolls and closes its jaws. Groups involved in a single feeding event can range from two to around 16 individuals (according to the literature), each surfacing in roughly the same position relative to the others on every lunge. It’s hard to tell exactly how many bubble-netters are in this photo, but I think it is more than 16:

Quantitative work using drone footage and bio-logging tags has found that solitary humpbacks actively adjust the number of bubble rings, net diameter, and the spacing between individual bubbles from one dive to the next. This level of fine-tuning (“manufacturing” a tool and modifying it based on conditions) contributed to a 2024 study’s argument that bubble nets qualify as tools under standard definitions. On average, a well-constructed net can increase the prey density available in a single lunge by roughly sevenfold, without measurably increasing the whale’s energetic expenditure:

No other baleen whale species does this, and biomechanics research suggests morphology is the reason. A 2025 study comparing turning performance across seven mysticete species found that bubble-net feeding humpbacks achieved centripetal accelerations that exceeded the upper limits recorded in comparable maneuvers by all six other species tested. The humpback’s large pectoral flippers generate substantial lift, which helps the animal bank inward tightly and decrease its turning radius enough to close a spiral into a true net. Other whale species, even if they could theoretically attempt the maneuver, would likely burn too much energy to make the strategy worthwhile:

My next post will include photos of other animals that come to Sitka sound to enjoy the herring feast.

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 5, 2026 • 8:15 am

Today’s photos come from reader Jan Malik, who took pictures of wildflowers in the Catskills. Jan’s photos and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge them by clicking on them.

During my recent hike in the Catskills, near Woodstock, NY, I found some spring flowers, ephemerals as they call them. They are hardy plants that use the narrow window between snow disappearance and tree leaves developing to get nearly all of their photosynthesis done for the year. They seem delicate but they need to withstand temperatures well below freezing – it was snowing on the second day of my hike and these plants weathered it just fine. To use this quick growth strategy, these plants have to be perennials, with underground roots, tubers or bulbs preserving the nutrients. All of these are native to the Northeast – there is no shortage of “undocumented” plants in the Catskills but I haven’t included them here.

Bluets (Houstonia caerulea), not so common in the Catskills. They are more widespread in acidic regions like the White Mountains of New Hampshire or generally in acidic soil:

Red trillium (Trillium erectum), with their flowers pointing down (I had to get low to take this picture) despite the second part of their binomial; that part of the name refers to an upright stalk. Their close cousin, the white-petaled Painted trillium is rare in the Catskills, preferring more acidic soils of the Adirondacks:

Spring beauties (Claytonia virginica), were everywhere, their flowers opening as soon as the temperature was high enough for the small insects to fly. They have a variable amount of pink in the petals, some plants produce them very pale and some very pink:

Dutchman’s breeches (Dicentra cucullaria) have flower shape quite similar to the Bleeding hearts, and they are indeed in the same family Papaveraceae:

Downy yellow violet (Viola pubescens). I think the black stripes have the same function as landing strips on an airfield, guiding pollinators to nectar:

There were many blue violets, this one is probably a Selkirk’s Violet (Viola selkirkii):

Canada violet (Viola canadensis) has flowers growing from a tall stalk, unlike other violets. There were other violets too in that wood, each species with unique preference for moisture, sun exposure, acidity etc.:

A lovely plant, Catskills’ specialty – ramps (Allium tricoccum), or wild leeks as some call them. They don’t bloom until late May or June, when leaves will have withered. In early spring the leaves are juicy, fragrant and tender, can be stewed, fried or just eaten raw with a sandwich. I collect them by picking one leaf from a plant (there are two to three leaves per plant), which should not kill it. The underground bulb is also delicious, reportedly, but I could never bring myself to kill it. Ramps developed their chemical defences (thiosulfinates) against animal browsing, and while deer eat it only in an emergency, for great apes it is perversely a culinary attraction. Waking up to a chill morning and leaning out of the tent to collect a few leaves for breakfast is what makes early spring hiking in the Catskills so special:

Hobble-bush (Viburnum lantanoides) flowers grow from a woody shrub. The plant can spread vegetatively, by sending its twigs low on the ground and forming roots. Hobblebush thicket can be a real obstacle for an off-trail hiker, but the plant redeems itself by developing tasty berries (ripe when black) in fall. These berries are in short supply though as thrushes get to them first:

Wild oats (Uvularia sessilifolia), not much to do with cereals, just droopy leaves resembling ears of real oats:

Dwarf ginseng (Panax trifolius) has edible underground tubers. These plants are too rare in the Catskills to dig one up and try cooking it, though:

Crinkle root (Cardamine diphylla). It is a member of the mustard family and its leaves are edible (as a salad or stewed) when young:

Blue cohosh (Caulophyllum thalictroides) in its purple-petal variant. Later in summer, the plant will produce round dark-blue berries, somewhat similar to individual grapes. They look quite attractive but are said to be poisonous. Always eager to engage in culinary biology, I once tried to bite on a berry and can assure you there is no risk of being poisoned – the taste is so awful that swallowing it is out of the question:

Trout lily (Erythronium americanum) gets its name from spots on its leaves, which are not unlike those on the fish. There were plenty of those plants in the open Catskill forest, but only a small portion of them are in bloom. They need to grow for a couple years, collecting nutrients in their tubers before becoming mature:

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:

Readers’ wildlife photos

April 27, 2026 • 8:15 am

Today we have photos of stick-mimicking insects from Trinidad and Tobago, all taken by Ephraim Heller. Ephraim’s captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

I remember the fascination I felt as a child on the rare occasions when I was taken to a zoo that had a terrarium containing stick insects. I still feel that way. In researching this post, I discovered that stick insects are even more remarkable and unusual than I anticipated. For example, parthenogenesis is common; they regrow lost limbs; and the world’s longest insect is Phryganistria chinensis, found in China and measuring 36 cm in body length (62 cm or 2 feet with legs extended, photo here).

I photographed two species. The first four photos are the Trinidad log insect (Phanocles keratosqueleton), known in regional folklore as the “god horse” or “hag’s horse.” It appears in folklore as an omen of death, despite being a harmless herbivore.

I never found a stick insect during our daytime hikes. During daytime, stick insects press themselves flat against plants and remain motionless, rendering them camouflaged and invisible. After dark, they walk out onto exposed vegetation to feed, molt, and mate. They are easily spotted with a headlamp due to their eyeshine:

Their camouflage can incorporate three distinct adaptations: cryptic coloration and background matching; cryptic body shape and texture; and behavioral crypsis (swaying when disturbed, mimicking a twig moving in a breeze). Not only are the insects themselves camouflaged, but many species evolved eggs that look like plant seeds:

Stick insects are in the order Phasmatodea, which contains over 3,500 species. Phasmids sits under Polyneoptera, which contains other winged insects such as grasshoppers, mantises, stoneflies, and earwigs. They are found on all continents except Antarctica. Against my expectations, Phasmatodea is monophyletic: the group evolved once from a single common ancestor, rather than through convergent evolution:

The next six photos are of the Trinidad twig or Trinidad stick (Ocnophiloidea regularis). More details on this species are at the end:

The oldest phasmid fossil is about 165 million years old, but recent studies claim that Phasmatodea first evolved 252 – 299 million years ago. This suggests that they evolved in response to the radiation of early insectivorous vertebrates such as parareptiles, amphibians, and synapsids. A major diversification occurred in the late Cretaceous, with the rapid spread of flowering plants (providing new foliage types to mimic) and the emergence of early birds:

Stick insect species’ reproduction ranges from sexual to obligate parthenogenesis, and much in between. Parthenogenesis (reproduction without fertilization) is common and has evolved independently many times among phasmids. Parthenogenic offspring are almost always females, producing all-female or near-all-female lineages. The offspring are not true clones of the parent, but are typically homozygous and have reduced genetic diversity, which can impair their ability to adapt to new stresses. Some species are facultatively parthenogenetic, meaning females can switch between sexual and asexual reproduction depending on conditions:

Phasmids can voluntarily shed a leg when grabbed by a predator. The leg is broken off at a specialized weak joint. Phasmatodea is the only insect order known to regenerate lost legs. Regeneration is restricted to nymphs because it requires molting. Cells at the wound site dedifferentiate and form a mass called a blastema, which then rebuilds the limb segment by segment through successive molts. The same molecular signaling pathway (ERK/CK2) involved in vertebrate limb regeneration drives the process in stick insects, which has attracted research interest for regenerative medicine. Regeneration is not free. Regrowing a leg during development results in disproportionately smaller wings and measurably reduced flight performance in adults. The body appears to divert resources away from wing development to fund limb repair:

The Trinidad twig (photos above and below) reproduces sexually:

The photo below shows two males attached to a female. Phasmids don’t do polycules and this is not standard reproductive behavior, but research on a closely related species has documented this scenario. While one male is guarding a female by remaining clasped to her abdomen, a rival male can approach and attempt to insert his genitalia while the first mate is momentarily repositioning or feeding. If the rival succeeds in attaching, both males end up simultaneously clasped to the female. This can result in a slow-motion “boxing-like” confrontation, with both males leaning backward and suspended from the female while trading blows with their forelegs until one of the males is eventually displaced: