Second Chances

I missed this shot during the afternoon.  When I saw the Lower Summit Lake swans near shore, I took only my camera with its 200-500mm lens.   

It was too much, and I was left with only thoughts of what could have been.

A couple of hours later, when I was on my way home in light rain, I again saw the swans near shore.  I pulled into a nearby pullout and hastened to the spot where I thought the perfect framing is.

And I got these shots.   Good enough, but I can only imagine what they would be like on a sunny day.

 

The Terribly Sad and Lamentable Tale of a Vision Unrealized.

The Terribly Sad Tale of a Vision Unrealized

Photographers are told to visualize the photo they want, imagine it in all its colors, and lines, and background. Then go for it!

Today, I had two tips. Each by itself would make a cool photo but combining the two would result in a masterpiece!!

Tip #1: the resident Trumpeter swans are still at Tern Lake, despite the ice covering most of the lake.

Tip #2: people are skating on the thin ice of Tern Lake.

I grabbed my camera and drove to the lake, all while visualizing the photo I wanted. Subjects: skaters and swans. Light: pewter gray day, so that was decided for me

Background: the leafless trees on the far side of the lake.

Composition: to be determined but hopefully skaters in front of, beside, or behind the swans.

IMAGINE!!!

When I arrived, the skaters were gone, as were the swans. No where to be seen.

All I got was this crappy shot of skate marks on the frosted ice of Tern Lake.

Well, I told you it was a sad tale.

The Self-Appointed Sheriff of Tern Lake

I live quite near Tern Lake and spend many hours there during the summer, watching the varied bird life and kayaking in its little coves and around its many islands.

SATURDAY EVENING:

This time of year, I watch a pair of trumpeter swans who moved onto Tern Lake and made it their home. I am expecting their eggs to hatch at any time, and pay close attention to them when I'm on my way to and from picking up litter farther up the Seward highway.

On this day, I was on my way home from cleaning up litter and was horrified to see three kayaks very near the swan's nest.

They ignored my yelling at them to move away from the swan. I started taking photos, not to shame them, but to report them in case something awful happened with the swans. With the nest abandoned, every bald eagle and gull on the lake could have cygnets for dinner.

I stopped and yelled at them to move away from the swan. No reaction, but the swan was already frightened and swimming away from the kayaks, dipping her head and honking all the time--a sign of high stress.

I kept yelling. Two kayaks went right behind the nest and the third passed in front of it, then stopped. And took selfies!!!

The poor swan is trying to get back to her nest and this girl is sitting there taking selfies! I didn't cuss at her, but I might have said a few choice words sotto voce.

She is very nervous, moving about the nest, checking everything to make sure it's safe to go back to it.   The nest is the brown pile to the left behind her.

When I was sure the women weren't going to return to the nest, and when the swan was--nervously--back on the nest--I drove around the lake to explain to the women why I was yelling at them.

I introduced myself, explained that I have become very protective of the swans.

"We weren't that close," said one.

"The swan thought you were. She abandoned the nest at a time when her eggs might have hatched and there are cygnets in the nest. I am surprised that every gull on the lake wasn't over there taking the eggs or cygnets."

I asked her to please explain to her friends why I yelled and to please stay far away from swans when you see them.

SUNDAY:

I drove to the lake to check on the swans and was delighted to see tiny cygnets.

Note the tiny fuzzy head under her belly.   Plus, there appears to be another right under her head.

Oh, right.   NOW the cob acts like he's defending them.    When the kayakers were near, he was hiding in some bushes.

MONDAY:

Dad takes one of th ecygnets for a paddle and introduces it to their neighbors, the scaup. This is even more evidence that at least one cygnet had hatched Saturday.

Lest you think I over-reacted, take a look at the two photos below. The first one is a repeat of a photo above. I show it because I wasn't you to note the two clumps of grass near the kayak.

In this photo, the swan is on her nest. Note the proximity ofd the two clumps of grass.

TUESDAY:

All the swans are away front the nest. They usually hide them in the far reaches of the lake for a spell before making their grand debut.

I hope I can keep the kayakers away from them until they are old enough to be safe.

White on White

This gray juvenile trumpeter swan stands out as it crosses the snow.

A Lesson Learned

I was at Tern Lake a couple nights ago to watch a couple swans that are in a small pond across from the lake.    I arrived too late to get a good vantage point, i.e., with the sun shining on the birds, or what I call up-light.

There were a couple other vehicles stopped along the narrow road and the only place I could get close was to pull past them, which meant the birds were backlit to me, with the swans between me and the sun.   Parking a distance and walking back was not an option I considered, because the swans are okay with a vehicle but not so much with people on foot.

I figured, what the heck, I have plenty of swan photos.   Nonetheless, I picked up the camera and pointed the lens out the window.   I adjusted the exposure compensation down a couple steps, in an effort to not blow out the white feathers. 

Noticing the swans were essentially backlit, I snapped a couple shots and checked my exposure.


I was stunned!

Whatever I did--and I'm not taking much credit for it--magic happened.    The water was transformed from a murky green to black and the pure white swans on black was dramatic!

What the light was really like.

What happened with exposure adjustment.

I then snapped off a bunch of photos of these beautiful birds, taking advantage of the last light before the sun fell behind a ridge.

Even a female mallard got in the photos.   The mallards are opportunistic feeders, hanging around the swans and scooping up whatever vegetation the swans miss after they rake it up from the bottom of the pond.

At this point, I think she was telling the swans to stop preening and get back to feeding her.

Her boyfriend stayed on the far side of the pond, as far from the gathering paparazzi as he could.

So, I learned a great lesson.   Sometimes it's best if you don't get what you think you want.    I've applied that to other factors in my life, but never before to photography.  That night I wanted to be in a certain position and couldn't.   If I had, my photos would have been  ordinary swan photos.

Instead, I got drama!

Springtime at Tern Lake

You know the feeling--you've just arrived home after a long trip and you're really, really tired, and really, really hungry.

What to do?

First thing you do is stick your head in the freezer to see if you can find something quick and easy...

Find anything?

"Yep!"

Wonderful!    So nice to see you again.   I see your little camera-shy friends are with you, too.

Birding on Sunday

Sunday dawned and brought sunshine, a very rare non-rainy day this summer.  And that presented a dilemma:    Seahawks game or birding???

Okay, birding it was.   While I was getting ready, and waiting for the sun to get in the right position according to where I was going, I did catch the first quarter of a boring game with lame announcers, so I was out the door with no regrets.

First up,  a kayak trip around what has become my favorite part of  Tern Lake.   Few people see the upper reaches of this lake, not unless they can walk on or otherwise voyage on water.   My bright blue kayak was just right for a glassy water paddle.

I visited the area where the kingfishers hang out.   These gorgeous blue and white birds were nowhere to be seen.   In fact, other than a few ducks and a bald eagle that didn't have the courtesy to wait while I fiddled with the settings on my camera, I didn't see anything.   The hawks wasn't around and neither were the magpies.

Common goldeneye

Same duck as above

Wait wait wait wait wait...

C'mon.   Just a few seconds more...  Nope, it flew away.

I'll say one good thing about all the overcast and rain:   our autumn colors usually peak mid-September but with the warmer weather, many of the trees haven't begun to turn color and we haven't had a frost yet either.

I gave up on birding by kayak and drove around the lake to Dave's creek where I'd seen two new (to me) birds.   Birders call them "lifers."   These are photos I took a few days ago when I first saw them:

Juvenile hermit thrush

Rusty blackbird transitioning to non-breeding colors.

Well, I saw the rusty blackbird on the other side of the creek but it wouldn't come into the open where I could get a shot at it.  The hermit thrush wasn't around, not until I turned on my fancy new iPhone,  opened the Sibley's e-Bird app, and played the hermit bird call.


It landed on the logs and brush in the creek opposite me, looked around, flew closer to me on my side of the creek, and approached.

You have to love juvenile birds.   They are so curious.

I wonder what I was "saying" when I played that bird call.   This little thrush seemed to enjoy it.

I waited for the blackbird, then decided that because the sky was clear, I should winterize my little travel trailer in case it froze that night.


About 7 o'clock, I went back to the lake.

One of my favorite sayings is "Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take away our breath."   This was one of them for me.

On the side of Tern Lake that's bordered by the Sterling highway, the Tern Lake swans and their cygnet were quite close to the road.    About a dozen cars had pulled over and people were out watching and photographing the swans. 

It is very unusual for the swans to linger when people get out of their vehicles and I was amazed.    I also took full advantage of it.

This is the gray cygnet preening, carefully watched by its mother.   The cob was a short distance away, watching the spectators.

From many hours of watching bird behavior, I knew what happens after a long preening session:

 Now comes the tricky part.   The cygnet has shaken all those feathers into their proper position and has to fold its wings to tuck the feathers away.

The white things on the water are swan feathers.

By this time, there were only a few of us watching and the swans began to swim farther away from the road.

The cygnet, however, was enjoying the company and came closer.

With a quiet honk from a vigilant adult, the cygnet turned away and followed its parents.

I continued on the Dave's Creek where a little American dipper greeted me with a song.

The rusty blackbird emerged from the forest but this was the best look I could get.

That rust color with the blue-black wings and tail are striking!

I hung around the creek until after 8.   By then, I was having to set the ISO on the camera very high to get enough light, so I went back to my truck and started for home.  

The sunset was well under way and it was the perfect moment to leave.