Downy Woodpecker

Preoccupied with getting a good photo of the Pileated Woodpecker at Nisqually last Friday, I kept hearing a funny tapping sound behind me. Initially, I dismissed the sound as an echo, but soon realized it was the wrong pitch for an echo.

Distracted, I didn’t see these two until after I’d gotten a number of good shots of the Pileated Woodpecker. Once I decided to hunt down the source of the noise, it didn’t take long to locate this pair, though it took almost as long to get a clear picture of them as it did to get one of the woodpecker, which probably explains how I can spend four hours covering three miles of trail.

These Downy Woodpeckers kept dashing about in the pecker brush, making it nearly impossible to get them in focus as there were always branches between us, as you can probably tell from the blurry spots in the pictures. Here’s the female:

And here’s the male, as identified by the red topknot:

I wondered if these two followed me because there was a hawk hovering nearby, a hawk that flew away every time I approached. For whatever reason, they accompanied me for nearly a half a mile on my walk back, a most welcome diversion.

It’s far too easy to overlook small species like this and focus just on the larger birds. For many photographers, even Pileated Woodpeckers would probably seem too small to bother with. I like to think I’m not one of those people.

A Sunny Winter Day

When I left home this morning it was a clear and crisp, one of the first in several weeks, and I figured it would be the perfect weather to get some pictures at Nisqually National Wildlife Refuge.

When I got there I found the conditions less than ideal, though. It was cold, cold enough that the shallow ponds were frozen soild and the ducks and geese were slip-sliding away.

The area was covered in dense, cold fog. The sun looked more like the moon than the sun. Most of the birds, including birds of prey looked like they were too cold to waste any energy flying:

Luckily, a few hours later the sun finally broke through the fog and the pace picked up considerably. I got my best shot ever of a Pileated Woodpecker:

and thanks to the helpful volunteers in the visitors center I also got by far the best picture I’ve ever gotten of an American Bittern:

Despite a rocky start, it was the kind of day I needed to get me back in a Christmas mood.

Just Another Sunday

Sunday began with breakfast with a local poet where we discussed Billy Collin’s poetry and, after a walk through Wright Park, agreed to re-read the Tao Teh Ching for our next breakfast.

Still, it proved a rather unremarkable day. Unable to agree on a movie, Leslie and I settled for a short trip to Belfair, despite the cool, overcast weather.

Though it was a pleasant enough three and half mile walk, we did not see a single new bird or animal and had to settle for:

a fleeing muskrat

just another cormorant on a log

more Canadian Geese landing

a Northern Harrier perched on a distant fence pole

yet another glimpse of a Great Blue Heron in a slough.

When Birding Isn’t

Usually when people see me out walking around with my camera, and it’s pretty difficult to miss a Canon camera with a 400mm lens, I tell them I’m “birding.� Heck, I even tell myself that, often times heading out with the intent to get a picture of a particular bird.

I’m always out to get a picture of a Kingfisher, as I did on this day,

and I much enjoyed watching this pair of Grebe lovers circling each other while bathed in sundown’s beautiful colors:

But the real highlight of my day, and probably not just the day, was getting this picture of four otters that just happened by while I was standing on the dock talking to two fishermen. They swam right under the pier we were standing on, so close that I couldn’t get my 400mm lens to focus on them. Only after they moved off shore a little ways and looked back was I able to get this picture.

When I got home I didn’t mention I’d gotten a better picture of a Kingfisher, or a beautiful shot of two Grebes, all I could talk about was the four otters I had seen.

Perhaps I’m not birding at all, but simply learning to pay closer attention to the magnificent world I share with others.