The weather has been so bad lately and I’ve been so focused on reading Robert Lax that I totally forgot that I managed to get out and shoot some pictures on one of those days when the sunshine actually showed itself for a short period. Since I completely missed the sunshine at Port Orchard the last sunny day, I decided to head out there first in hopes of getting some shots in the sun.

No such luck. Even though I left Tacoma in full sunshine, it was almost completely fogged in when I got to Port Orchard.

There’s a reason the Husky mascot is named “Sun-Dodger.” You can never really count on sunshine around here during the winter, and forecasts are seldom right — unless they predicting rain.

Still, I managed to get at least one shot I liked in what little sun did show up.

I love the bluish-green water in this shot of a Horned Grebe in non-breeding colors.

On the way out of town I got so close to this Great Blue Heron that it was nearly impossible not to get a good shot,

especially after I adjusted it in Photoshop. This is almost what a great blue heron would look like on a sunny day.

Ironically, it was still sunny when I got back to Tacoma, though the clouds were starting to move in there, too. I decided to stop at Titlow, where I managed to get this year’s first shot of a Bewick Wren.

It was still sunny as I neared home, so I couldn’t resist driving down to the boathouse since there’ s no excuse for missing any sunshine when you’re retired.

There weren’t too many birds around, but I enjoyed watching the Barrow’s Goldeneye who seem to be starting to pair off

and try to pair off,

though this female seemed to be indifferent to both suitors.

I probably forgot these were in the camera because there’s nothing too memorable about them, but I did like the shot of the grebe and I enjoyed the break from the gym and the black-and-white world of books.

Mike sent me three questions he thought my blog readers would be curious about yesterday’s entry. I really didn’t know the answer his first question. I don’t know if there was any connection between my throat swelling up at dinner and my earlier fall. I know that the fish we ate (which was not crab) caused gastric distress for everyone at the table, though not the tightening of the throat. The huge bruise on my upper chest and collarbone indicates there might have been some swelling in the throat. I haven’t had any similar reaction to any of the foods we were eating, but I didn’t develop an allergic reaction to crab until i was nearly 35 years old, and it was a favorite, and common, food. Food allergies are notoriously difficult to detect.

What I can do is show you the birds that I crossed the street to photograph. Most of them were our local Chestnut-Backed Chickadee.

The other, probably the one whose bright yellow colors caught my attention, was this Golden-Crowned Kinglet.

Neither shot was worth the fall I took, but both are some of the best shots I’ve gotten of these particular birds because they seldom expose themselves completely and are constantly moving. Even my expensive camera had trouble focusing on them before they flitted to the next branch.

It may sound weird to someone who doesn’t bird, but at times it almost seems that there is an affinity between me and a particular species. Just before I started birding a local newspaper reported on local birds and stated Belted Kingfishers were often seen in Pt Defiance Park, the place where I went on most of my walks before I took up birding. I couldn’t believe it. I’d spent most of my life in the Puget Sound area, and I’d never seen a Belted Kingfisher. Strangely enough, the next time I walked the five-mile loop at Nisqually I say a Belted Kingfisher. Right after that, I saw another at the Boathouse a few blocks from my house. Later that year I started walking Belfair and it was rare that I didn’t see a Belted Kingfisher.

In 2011 I suddenly started seeing Western Grebes, a bird I only occasionally had seen on the Puget Sound, everywhere I went. The biggest thrill of 2011 was seeing a a Western Grebe carrying babies on her back. It wasn’t the same this year, but I was still excited to see this mother feeding her two chicks this year when I went back to Malheur.

However, the bird-of-the-year in 2012 would have to be the Pigeon Guillemot. I’ve seen quite a few of them over the last few years, but usually at quite a distance. This year I saw them regularly on the Puget Sound and at Westport. I could have sworn this one was actually trying to talk to me when it swam up to the dock where I was shooting.

I managed to get so many great shots this year that I ended up deleting nearly all the photographs of them from previous years.

I’m not sure either of these is my best shot of the year, but are both quite special and aren’t likely to be forgotten soon.

Part of the joy of bird photography is the challenge of getting a better shot than one you’ve gotten previously. When I look back on the shots I got when I started birding, I’m amazed at how much better my shots have gotten. Part of that improvement comes from understanding the birds better, but a significant part comes from owning better equipment. No matter how good of birder you are, you’re rarely going to match the shots of those who have top-of-the-line cameras and telephoto lenses with a point-and-shoot camera.

But even with the best of equipment the element of chance always plays a part in determining how good of shots you get. You have to be in the right place at the right time to get good shots. This year I managed to get three shots I’ve been trying to get for several years now.

I first saw a picture of an American Avocet in breeding colors nearly four years ago while visiting a preserve in Eastern Washington. It wasn’t until March of this year that I ever saw an Avocet, and I never managed to get a shot of one in breeding colors. This one was shot in Malheur in late Spring.

I’m sure I’ll manage to get a better shot in time, but this strikes me as an awfully good photograph. I couldn’t have been happier at the time I got it.

I first saw an Eared Grebe at Malheur on my first visit to Malheur several years ago. But it was in the middle of a thunderstorm and the bird was barely recognizable. I got this shot in Northern California right after I got the shot of the Avocet at Malheur.

I can’t imagine I’ll ever get one that shows breeding colors better, though I still prefer shots of birds flying, not floating.

This is the best shot I ever got of a White-faced Ibis in breeding colors.

Best of all, it was a slightly better shot than Leslie had gotten of one in the Sacramento National Wildlife Refuge. I like to keep up the illusion that I’m a better birder and photographer than Leslie, especially since I spend far more money and time on them.