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| I am always struck at how slowly coastal wetlands transition to green in the spring. But don't let the drab tans and browns fool you: there is a mind-boggling pulse of new life and nearly constant change in the marsh -- particularly this time of year. |
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| If eagles nesting on or adjacent to Standing Rush are "our eagles," than this is a pair of "our swans" from 2020, just setting up fresh quarters for a new brood. |
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| Roy was embarrassed by his use of a Gatorade bottle for scale, but it demonstrates the point: those are five big trumpeter eggs that hopefully fledged as five more healthy cygnets. The ecological success story continues at Standing Rush. |
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| Another regular in springtime at Standing Rush: a Bonaparte's Gull. |
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| This juvenile seems content to be taking in some welcomed sun & warmth. |
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| Chalk another one up to the motion cameras . . . The following are excerpts from literally dozens of trail camera images taken over an eight day period on the southern fringe of the West Marsh. The mother Great Horned Owl (above) accompanied what seemed to be three owlets individually on regular test flights -- day and night -- to a nearby, downed willow branch. |
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| The last day on camera, the owlets were taking their test flights together. Based on the timing of these repeated short flights, it is likely the eggs were laid in early to mid-February and the owlets were born in mid-March. |
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| Despite the unprecedented cancellation of The Biggest Week in American Birding, and even amidst a global pandemic, the neotropical birds still made their annual pilgrimage. Sadly, there were just precious few birders on site to observe their passage in 2020. |
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| A warm May thunderstorm atop a fertile wetland is the recipe to fully break the bottled-up relative dormancy of spring and launch into the lush green of summer. |