Category: Readers’ wildlife

Readers’ wildlife photos

April 16, 2026 • 8:15 am

Today’s photos are of lizards, come from Ephraim Heller, and were taken in Trinidad and Tobago. Ephraim’s captions and IDs are indented, and you can click on the photos to enlarge them.

Many people have said to me “the hummingbirds are nice, but what about the lizards of Trinidad and Tobago?” Perhaps not literally true, but grant me poetic license. Preparing this post gave me an opportunity to learn about lizards. Trinidad and Tobago is home to about 49 species of lizards in 11 families in 4 clades.

Clade #1: T&T is home to four iguanian families (Iguania): Dactyloidae (anoles), Iguanidae (iguanas), Polychrotidae (polychrotids), and Tropiduridae (treerunners). Iguania are characterized by visual communication (dewlaps, crests, color change), fleshy non-forked tongues, and sit-and-wait predatory behavior, along with various osteological arrangements.

Here’s a Caribbean treerunner (Plica caribeana):

The green Iguana (Iguana iguana) possesses a parietal eye, a small, pale scale on the top of the head that is a photosensory organ, connected to the pineal gland via its own nerve pathway. It cannot form images, but it detects changes in light intensity and shadow, giving the animal an early warning system against aerial predators approaching from above. It also contributes to circadian rhythm regulation and thermoregulation, which is particularly important for a reptile that ferments its food. Green iguanas eat leaves, relying on a hindgut microbial fermentation system to break down plant fiber.

Green iguanas have a social structure. Dominant males hold territories that contain smaller males, females, and juveniles, with larger males claiming better display perches and more access to females. During mating season males shift toward red or orange hues, becoming more conspicuous; a defeated male that loses his territory returns to a dull brown within hours and holds this color until he reclaims his position.

This one is angry with me:

Trinidad has only one native anole, the leaf anole (Anolis planiceps). Other species are introductions that arrived from other Caribbean islands, likely through human commerce. When a leaf anole detects a threat it can run bipedally, a behavior seen in a number of small lizards and interpreted as a burst-speed adaptation.

Here’s an unidentified anole. Perhaps a reader can identify it:

Clade #2: T&T is home to three gecko families (Gekkota): Gekkonidae (true geckos), Phyllodactylidae (leaf-toed geckos), and Sphaerodactylidae (sphaerodactyl geckos).

Gekkota are distinguished primarily by their feet and eyes. Most geckos have adhesive toe pads with microscopic hair-like structures (setae) that generate van der Waals forces, allowing them to cling to smooth surfaces. The eye is typically large with a vertical or elliptical pupil, and the eyelid is fused into a fixed transparent scale (the “spectacle”) rather than a moveable lid.

I photographed the northern turnip-tailed gecko (Thecadactylus rapicauda). The name comes from the tail, a fat-storage organ. It is also detachable: autotomy (self-amputation) serves as a predator-distraction mechanism. The regenerated tail is typically wider at the tip than at the base, allegedly looking like a turnip. One cool but useless fact: this gecko is able to lick the transparent scale covering each eye.

For completeness, here’s a bit of information about the two lizard clades that I did not photograph.

Clade #3: there are two species of Amphisbaenia in the family amphisbaenidae. These are legless worm lizards. Adapted for living underground, the key distinguishing features are: annular (ring-like) body scales arranged in complete rings around the body, which no true lizard possesses; a highly consolidated, rigid skull adapted for head-first burrowing, with the two sides of the skull fused to form a battering ram; vestigial or absent eyes covered by scales; no external ear openings; and reduced or absent limbs in most families. They move using a unique accordion-like rectilinear locomotion rather than lateral undulation. Sadly, I have no photos of worm lizards as they live underground.

Clade #4: finally, there are three scincoid families (Scincoidea): Scincidae (skinks), Teiidae (teiids), and Gymnophthalmidae (microteiids). Scincoidea is defined primarily by molecular phylogenetics, not by a single morphological characteristic. Bony plates underlaying the scales are present in skinks, giving them their characteristic armored, smooth texture.

Readers’ wildlife photos

April 13, 2026 • 8:15 am

Today I’m stealing (with permission) the photos of Aussie biologist Scott Ritchie, whose Facebook page is here.  And what better subject than kangaroos? Scott’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge his photos by clicking on them.

My last report from my Melbourne to Sydney trip. From Depot Beach in New South Wales. It was epic. Stayed in a National Park cabin that looked out over the ocean. And at 5 o’clock our front lawn became the bar for Eastern Grey Kangaroos [Macropus giganteus]. And in the morning, you could take pictures of the kangaroos watching the sunrise. What could be better for a boy from Iowa?

We had a ring-side seat for roos. There would have been over a dozen here, not including joeys in the pouch:

The boys like a bit of rough and tumble:

They are smart to avoid those claws:

. . . just barely:

Squaring off:

I missed the kick shot. A sudden loud thump. Then the fight was over. One kick!

I don’t know how this is going to work!:

But somehow it does:

 

White-faced Heron [Egretta novaehollandiae] loves a roo too:

Cute:

Hanging loose:

Don’t trip, mom!:

Just in time for a smoke:

I hate pan pipes!:

It’s a tight fit:

Come on big fella. I’m already familied up:

Sunrise at Depot Beach:

Readers’ wildlife photos

April 12, 2026 • 8:15 am

Once again I present the last photos I have in the queue. If you got ’em, and they’re good, please send them in.

Today’s wildlife pictures come from reader Jan Malik, and concentrate on one act of predation. Jan’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge the pictures by clicking on them.

In early April, I visited the Edwin B. Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge in New Jersey, which encompasses both brackish coastal marshes and lowland mixed forest. The refuge, previously known by the more graceful name Brigantine, features a wildlife drive where a car serves as the ultimate “blind,” allowing for the close observation of birds.In one section, a group of herons assembled, intently staring at a culvert outlet—a sort of fast-food restaurant for wading birds. The Great Blue Heron (GBH, Ardea herodias) in the center has already caught a small fish, though this is not a meal an adult heron finds satisfying:

The same was true for this Great Egret (Ardea alba) with a small fry. All the birds were patiently waiting for a main course:

Finally, one heron caught a fish worthy of the hunting effort. Visible in this picture are the nuptial plumes of this GBH—wispy feathers on the lower neck, similar plumes on the wing coverts, and a long, elegant black plume on the head. These grow only during the breeding season:

The fish, likely a White Perch (Morone americana)—a predator of mollusks, arthropods, and small fish—displays a defense reflex here. It has two dorsal fins: the posterior fin is soft, while the spiny anterior fin is raised when the fish is in danger. This reflex is intended to make the fish harder for a predator to swallow:

The heron has speared the fish through its posterior region, but the prey is still alive, writhing to get free. The heron, now knee-deep in water, must finish the fish off and reposition it to be swallowed head-first:

To do that, the bird first walks to shallower water where it can momentarily drop the fish without risk of escape. Additionally, moving away from the group decreases the chances of the catch being stolen by a competitor:

Catch and release (but not for long): In the shallow, muddy water, the GBH releases the fish; it cannot swim away and is visible as a dark blob below the bird. Whether this GBH is male or female cannot be determined from these pictures, as the sexes are monomorphic. This suggests that both sexes are “choosy” in mate selection, as both provide significant parental care and investment:

The GBH delivers the coup de grâce—the perch is now speared through the head. For me, looking at these pictures raises the question: how many bird species are sexually dimorphic versus monomorphic and why? Some are strongly dimorphic—ducks, songbirds, turkeys, and grouse—while others, like herons, gulls, parrots, corvids, and raptors, are not. Others fall somewhere in between, like the American Robin. While males have darker heads and more vibrant breasts, they do not incubate the eggs, though they do guard the nest and feed the chicks.  Are these differences exclusively the result of parental care roles?  Or is it an adaptation to the environment?  For instance, a GBH cannot be too flashy, or the fish would easily spot its silhouette against the grey sky:

In one smooth move, the heron tosses the fish into the air and catches it head-first. The fish is now incapacitated, no longer resisting, and bleeding heavily. With its defensive fins down, it can finally be swallowed:

Only once have I seen a GBH unable to swallow a large eel—mostly due to its length rather than its girth. Otherwise, once prey is caught—be it a fish, a duck, or a rodent—it is swallowed whole, sometimes after a brief struggle:

The fish is now in the esophagus; the heron’s flexible neck tissue expands to accommodate the meal until it can be digested:

Here is a picture of a Great Egret also in breeding plumage, sporting its long, wispy feathers (aigrettes). These will be lost through molting or wear shortly after the breeding season ends:

A Great Egret in flight, with its head retracted—a trait that makes them easy to distinguish from cranes. While they occupy similar ecological niches to the Great Blue Heron, they are not identical.Egrets often hunt “on the move,” flying or hopping, while GBHs prefer ambush hunting or slow, deliberate wading. Egrets typically target smaller prey, while GBHs:

Readers’ wildlife photos

April 11, 2026 • 8:15 am

Today’s we have photos from Ephraim Heller of hummingbirds from Trinidad and Tobago.  Ephraim’s captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge his 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. Previous posts were devoted to my new favorite bird, the tufted coquette (here) and to photos of six other species (here). This post covers the remaining six species. The species that I did not photograph either do not visit feeders or are only present seasonally in the country.

Black-throated mango (Anthracothorax nigricollis). Some individuals have been documented to migrate over 1,000 miles:

Blue-chinned sapphire (Chlorestes notata):

Brown violetear (Colibri delphinae). An aggressive species that zealously defends its nectar sources:

The copper-rumped hummingbird (Saucerottia tobaci) is the most common hummingbird on both islands. An individual amused me over several days as it vigorously defended three feeders from all species, regardless of the fact that food was plentiful:

When light hits the male ruby-topaz hummingbird (Chrysolampis mosquitus) just right it lights up like a neon sign. As in many other hummingbird species, the male’s crown and throat produce color not through pigment but through the physical structure of the feathers: stacked layers of melanin granules in the barbules:

White-chested emerald (Chrysuronia brevirostris). Males and females look alike:

Readers’ wildlife photos

April 10, 2026 • 8:15 am

Ecologist Susan Harrison has contributed some photos from one of my favorite places in the U.S.—and a former field site—Death Valley, California (there are also photos from Arizona). Susan’s IDs and captions are indented, and you can (and should) enlarge her photos by clicking on them.

A March heat wave spent in the desert

Hearing reports of the best desert wildflowers in 10 years, my husband and I eagerly planned a late March camping trip to Death Valley.   Alas, when my final exams were over, a record-breaking heat wave was already ending the displays of Desert Gold (Geraia canescens), Hairy Sand Verbena (Abronia villosa), various scorpionweeds (Phacelia) and evening primroses (Oenothera), and others.

What to do??  Luckily, the deserts contain a lot of elevation. Near Telescope Peak (elevation 11,043’), the highest point in Death Valley National Park, the snow lingered and wildflowers hadn’t yet bloomed, but at least the hiking was pleasant.

Telescope Peak, center, with Death Valley on the left and Panamint Valley on the right:

Foraying briefly down to Furnace Creek, with its minus 190’ elevation and triple-digit temperatures, we saw fields of faded flowers and stayed just long enough to track down one interesting bird.

Lucy’s Warbler (Leiothylpis luciae), a dainty resident of desert oases including the Furnace Creek golf course, singing its dawn song:

We then decamped to the high desert (4,500’+) along the east face of the Sierra Nevada, where temperatures were warm but not excessive and birds and flowers were abundant.

The Alabama Hills (foreground, with Sierras in background) are so scenically dramatic that they appear in hundreds of movies and TV shows – mainly old Westerns, plus some extraterrestrial and “Himalayan” epics:

Black-throated Sparrows (Amphispiza bilineata) were abundant in the sagebrush:

White-throated Swifts (Aeronautes saxatilis), a.k.a. avian jet pilots, zoomed above the canyons leading up to the high Sierras:

Scarlet Milkvetch (Astragalus coccineus) grew abundantly on decomposed granite:

Sandblossoms (Linanthus parryae), which come in blue and white, were the focus of a classic controversy in evolutionary theory you can read about here and here:

LeConte’s Thrasher (Toxostoma lecontei), another uncommon desert bird, eluded us in the Alabama Hills.  Farther north near Bishop, California, it was a delight to find this one and its mate apparently feeding large black insects to well-hidden nestlings:

Very fortunately for me, my next work duty after our desert vacation was a speaking engagement in Tucson, and the heat wave finally ended midway through that visit.  Here are some photos from two lovely days of birding in southern Arizona.

Curve-billed Thrasher (Toxostoma curvirostre):

Painted Redstart (Myioborus pictus):

Rivoli’s Hummingbird (Eugenes fulgens):

Bridled Titmouse (Baeolophus wollweberi):

Red-naped Sapsucker (Sphyrapicus nuchalis):

Scott’s Oriole (Icterus parisorum):

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.