Heather Reid: Stories from an Island

Five hundred words

2011-09-05T19:38:00.000-07:00

Because this picture only tells half the story.

This is an adult female osprey.

She carries a perch in one talon.

She has two nearly grown nestlings.

She was in the middle of feeding one of her nestlings when a male osprey (not her mate) flew near her nest.

In this shot, she's in the process of chasing that male away while hanging on to the fish.

Seriously. Why do I love these birds?

Summer day at Long Beach

2011-08-30T19:48:00.000-07:00

A new view of Goldstream

2011-07-27T09:46:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I falsely get it in mind that I've been there done that.

I have been thinking that I've done all the hikes around Victoria (time to move!) but maybe I just don't know all the hikes around Victoria.

This was illustrated for me when my mother and I selected Goldstream Provincial Park as a Sunday hiking destination strictly because of how handy it is to the city. I've scaled the park's Mount Finlayson a few times — a challenging hike suitable for days when lungs and legs feel strong. I felt like I'd seen all there was to see at Goldstream. Not so.

We explored trails I'd never trekked on the west side of the Island Highway.

First discovery Niagara Falls, the B.C. version.

A thin, long stream tumbling over a cliff that we first stood below craning our necks up to look at, then climbed alongside and eventually up above to watch it falling down into the clear pool at its base.

Embarrassingly, these falls are literally a two-minute walk from the highway and I've never seen them before. In 15 years, I've never bothered to stop, park and have a look.

That's a failure to appreciate my home that I try to avoid. I try not to get complacent about the beauty and wildness of Vancouver Island, British Columbia, or heck, the great, big country of Canada.

After the climb, the path continued through the two common forest types of this region Douglas fir, cedar mix and Gary Oak meadows.

We saw remnants of an old mine. Yep, was a time the people of Victoria searched for gold in them thar hills. Thus the name for the park.

A bunch of robins fluttered around in one low area where this barred owl sat in a giant cedar. The smaller birds mobbed and we watched until the predator silently flapped away to perch in another tree.

This has become the common owl in the Northwest while its close relative, the spotted owl, disappears.

Spotted owl pairs need large territories in old growth forests (also disappearing), but the barred owl can get by with second growth and thrives here, where almost all forests have been mowed down at least once.

Spotted owls declined from around 200 in the early 1990s to an alarming 17 individuals found in 2007.

The United States has finally come up with a conservation plan after years of fighting between scientists and loggers. What's being done in British Columbia? Not much. It's business as usual.

This article on The Tyee in 2007 provides the details of the decline and the politics involved. Here's another from this summer.

Welcome to Camas Country

2011-07-16T18:31:00.000-07:00

This photo is from earlier in the spring.

Found a great story about the importance of this plant — Camas quamash — to this region on the Beacon Hill Park history website. And I'm sharing because I seem to be lacking time to write.

Launched at last

2011-07-06T18:19:00.000-07:00

I brought my kayak down to Victoria from Sproat Lake in January and only just got it in the water on the Canada Day long weekend.

I hate to admit it, and maybe it's a good thing, but I've become a lot more cautious.

My kayak lives at Fisherman's Wharf in Victoria's busy harbour. As soon as I poke my nose out, I'm in the traffic. I need to be mindful of float planes, whale watching boats and big ferries like the Coho lest I make the kind of navigational error that make real mariners cringe.

Even worse than that, I don't want to be the unprepared novice in need of rescue who makes the six o'clock news. I do not experience the same hesitation about my terrestrial adventures, but perhaps I should.

I recognized myself in the movie 127 Hours as the solo hiker who doesn't use a check in person (I know it's wrong Susie, I know).

I guess I find it hard to define when a day hike becomes an activity that requires such precautions. I think we are made to be fearful of outings that are not high-risk. I'd like to think I know when to let someone know where I've gone and when I expect to return.

So I took it easy. I took it slow. Got comfortable with getting my vessel on and off the dock (thanks for the handy grid Victoria Harbour Authority!).

Next time I may venture beyond Laurel Point. When I really get comfortable I will paddle out of the harbour and to sea.

Gowlland Tod Park (part II)

2011-06-26T12:58:00.000-07:00

In round one I started the trail at McKenzie Bight and headed south. This time I headed north from the Caleb Pike Access for a 8 km (round trip) tromp to Jocelyn Peak, where I'd left off last time.

First impression - the south end is a little nicer than the north. Then again the margin is small and the weather was considerably better on my second hike, so that's a pretty subjective opinion.

Again wildflowers everywhere, looking spectacular. Up top is sea blush (Plectirtis congesta) a pretty, pink plant I called clover until a friend corrected me (thanks Dawn!).

At right we have either the few-flowered or the tall mountain shootingstar (Dodecatheon pulchellum or jeffreyi). One of those creations I can hardly believe exists in real life, not just in a cartoonist's imagination. I used to feel the same way about marine creatures like sea stars and urchins. Turns out they are real, too.

And speaking of marine creatures, the best part of this hike was catching a grey whale foraging deep in the Saanich Inlet, down in Finlayson Arm. Could easily have missed it, but it just happened I was out on a bluff looking at a sail boat making its way up the fjord.

Grey whales are not uncommon in this part of the Pacific. They make a long staggered journey from calving grounds in Mexico up here to feed in our plentiful northern summers.

Having worked on a whale-watching boat in this area, however, I can say that seeing a grey whale scooping sediment from the bottom of Finlayson Arm is a highly unusual occurrance.

The photos aren't great — merely evidence.

In my defense, this is how high above the water I was.

Gowlland Tod Park (part I)

2011-06-18T19:01:00.000-07:00

I visited this park many years ago, but rediscovered it this spring and it seemed larger and wilder than I remember.

I've now made a few trips in order to span the 13 km ridge-top trail above the Saanich Inlet.

My first discovery along the trail was this little orchid. The fairy slipper (Calypso bulbosa) grows in dense forests along the coast from Washington State up to Alaska.

All of the wildflowers seemed especially plentiful and brilliant, possibly due to the long, cool spring we've had.

I started from the north end at McKenzie Bight and hiked the Timberman Trail along the top of the mountains standing on the east side of Finalyson Arm, deep in the Saanich Inlet.

The rest of the suspects were usual. This grey squirrel rushed my lens during the time it spent investigating me. Seemed very tame even though we met nearly smack dab in the middle of the trail where the fewest hikers venture.

Like so many Vancouver Islanders I've looked over at these green hills while racing along the Malahat drive on the other side of the inlet and wondered at that great stretch of wilderness.

One minute you're in town, the next you are out there on a ridge top, looking above at a kettle of turkey vultures and below at a little sip of the Pacific coming in to meet the salmon rivers that pour off the land.

My preferred stop on this hike was the Malahat Lookout where the big raptors soared.

I can't help it. I like it when I'm above the eagles.

Osprey on the island

2011-06-12T13:15:00.000-07:00

It's been hard to know how many osprey are around the Victoria are because I have little time to watch them.

I saw this one at Patricia Bay on the Saanich Inlet in early May, handily scooping fish from the shallow waters.

This would be pre-nestlings, so the birds aren't yet rushing about.

There's time for perching and eating without disturbance. That will have all changed by now in nests that have successfully produced young. I know of two in the Victoria are that I'm concerned about.

One is in Esquimalt and the female on that nest died last summer after fledging two chicks. The wildlife rescue centre that received the dead bird reported that she was riddled with tumours but they did not manage to do a necropsy (long story).

The other is the nest of the campus sweethearts from last summer. They lived high above a soccer field at the University of Victoria. So far this year, I have only seen the female hanging around what remains of the nest, seemingly waiting for the arrival of her mate.

So there it is. There are plenty of osprey to chase, and not the time to do it in. I'm planning though, don't worry, I'm planning.

Peregrinations

2011-06-05T19:32:00.000-07:00

Caught this peregrine at Patricia Bay on the Saanich Inlet of southern Vancouver Island.

It sat in one of the Douglas fir trees lining the beach, inconspicuous among the bald eagles and osprey spectacularly soaring around.

I went round and round the tree trying to get a clear shot. When I moved, the falcon moved. Very common experience.

Finally a crow spotted the intruder and flew over to dive repeatedly at the peregrine. It grew tired of the attack (which went on behind a leafy branch) so I snapped it on the wing as it flew off (in disgust?).

You just can't get any peace at the beach anymore.

Hornby Island

2011-05-21T07:24:00.000-07:00

Each of the Gulf Islands that lie between Vancouver Island and B.C.'s coast has a different flavour. Hornby Island gets views of snow covered mountains in both directions with its own funky mix of artisans and people who've retired from the rest of the world.

On this trip my travelling companions were after pottery from one specific potter — Susan Crowe at Cannon Road Pottery.

I loved the outdoor gallery and the way her creative talents carry over to the way she displays her work.

In the laid back way of islanders, she feels no compulsion to operate a website. She can be reached the old-fashioned way for viewing (250.335.1629).

The requisite bald eagles perch by the seaside. Some have their own webcam broadcasting life in the nest around the clock. People from around the world watch eagle cams in British Columbia and the Hornby Island birds started it all.

I once met a woman from Japan who travelled across the Pacific to see the eagles in person after watching them on her computer for several years.

Finally, the views from Helliwell Provincial Park make it one of the best strolls anywhere on the islands.

One of the few marine protected areas, the waters around the park are closed to commercial fishing. While recreational fishing is allowed, islanders have instituted a voluntary closure allowing marine life a small haven.

Why I otter!

2011-05-14T06:31:00.000-07:00

A river otter stops to check me out on a hike in Gowlland Tod Provincial Park. Not to be mistaken with the sea otter which is rarely seen this far south.

Happy Easter

2011-04-22T12:50:00.000-07:00

Now, I lean more toward Pagan than Christian so my celebration of the season of fertility doesn't involve much tradition. To tie this occassion in with Earth Day, I recommend the holiday feast include one of these

a feral rabbit that some thoughtful pet owner deposited in a city park.

They are fruitful and they do multiply (kind of like our species) upsetting the balance in whatever ecosystem they are let loose in (hmmm more similarities).

Plus, they are more nutritious than the chocolate variety.

The viaduct: one of Victoria's wetlands

2011-04-15T09:10:00.000-07:00

As a transition zone between land and water, wetlands provide habitat for plants and animals that are terrestrial, aquatic and amphibious. The mix makes for high species diversity.

These productive ecosystems have been viewed largely as a nuisance to people wanting to develop land whether for agriculture or residential developments and roads.

Besides being prime wildlife habitat they filter water and break down detritus that flows in from the land around them.

In Canada many important wetlands have been filled in so we could build on top of them. Attempts to restore former wetlands have demonstrated that we can not recreate these complex landscapes, so our best bet is to conserve what's left.

Wetlands make a good bird outing at any time of year but they really bustle in the spring.

Mixed flocks of ducks paddle about seeking mates. Here's a female hooded merganser – or hoodie – hiding out behind some woody shrubs. Pretty dramatic look for a female.

She will find a tree cavity to nest in the year before she is actually ready to breed.

As a year round resident she can keep an eye on it and not have to race back from the south in the spring to claim it.

For food, hooded mergansers dive under the water and look for aquatic insects and crayfish. According to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology they can change the refractive properties of their eyes to see better in murky water.

At the beach

2011-04-10T16:59:00.000-07:00

The importance of feathers

2011-03-30T19:34:00.000-07:00

All birds have feathers and any animal with feathers is a bird.

Haven't been able to find the original author of this quote but it makes the classification of Aves pretty clear doesn't it?

Feathers are complicated structures. An evolutionary marvel.

The original pressure to adapt such an accessory was for warmth. Flight came much later. The insulating properties of feathers allow birds to live in the coldest and hottest environments that few other creatures can tolerate. Think of penguins in Antarctica or ostriches in the Sahara desert.

A different kind of bond between keratin protein strands in the feathers, beaks and claws of birds give them a greater toughness than the keratin parts of mammals (i.e. hair, horns, and hoofs).

The many colours seen in bird plumage come from either pigments absorbed from the diet or the microscopic refractive structures.

The arrangement of microscopic structures in combination with a certain angle of light give many species spectacular iridescent plumage.

The bright whites of seagulls and egrets come from air trapped between feathers that scatters all the wavelengths of light.

Illustration by Adolphe Millot (1857 - 1921)

In some species the growth of wild feathered appendages would seem to put them at a disadvantage by either making them very visible to predators or too clumsy to escape.

Evolutionary biologists puzzled over this until they realized that the outlandish diplays signalled to potential mates what high quality genes must be carried by an individual that survives despite such an obvious handicap.

An oystercatcher by any other name

2011-03-24T16:40:00.000-07:00

The black oystercatcher is not quite correctly named.

It could be called the black limpetcatcher, or the black musselcatcher to be more accurate in terms of what this shore bird eats.

Described as "just plain comical" by Nancy Baron and John Acorn in their Birds of Coastal British Columbia guide book, some researchers are taking this bird seriously.

The Pacific Wildlife Foundation and Parks Canada selected the bird as an indicator species of rocky intertidal community health.

To start that meant learning all about populations and movements to get a baseline measure. It is already known that the species is not threatened. The global population is around 10,000 individuals. Most live in British Columbia and Alaska.

They forage along rocky shores, often in urban settings, making it a good species for measuring the effects of human disturbance.

This fellow at left was boldly stalking the shores of a beach in Sidney, just north of Victoria. About 100 pairs nest in the Strait of Georgia between Vancouver Island and the mainland.

To get the local population data, many birds were banded. Researchers hope people will report sightings here.

Haida Gwaii oystercatchers have orange or dark blue bands on their left leg.

Pacific Rim National Park birds have white bands with black letters on the right leg.

In the Gulf Islands they have orange bands with black letters.

BC mainland coast oystercatchers have yellow bands with black letters.

If you see a banded oystercatcher, note the band colour and numbers (if visible) and your location.

Clip from Bird Studies Canada

2011-03-17T08:16:00.000-07:00

Oldest Known Wild Bird and a New Mother at 60

11 March 2011 – A few weeks ago, the oldest known wild bird in the Northern Hemisphere was spotted at Midway Atoll National Wildlife Refuge in Hawaii. The bird, a female Laysan Albatross named Wisdom, is at least 60 years old; she is also a new mother.

Wisdom was spotted with her chick a few weeks ago by John Klavitter, a U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service biologist and the deputy manager of the Midway Atoll National Wildlife Refuge. She has sported and worn out five bird bands since she was first banded by U.S. Geological Survey (USGS) scientist Chandler Robbins in 1956. At the time, he estimated the albatross to be about five years old. Robbins rediscovered Wisdom in 2001, when she was at least 50.

“She looks great,” said Bruce Peterjohn, the chief of the North American Bird Banding Program at the USGS Patuxent Wildlife Research Center in Laurel, Maryland. “And she is now the oldest wild bird documented in the 90-year history of our USGS Fish and Wildlife Service and Canadian bird banding program,” he added. “To know that she can still successfully raise young at age 60-plus, that is beyond words. While the process of banding a bird has not changed greatly during the past century, the information provided by birds marked with a simple numbered metal band has transformed our knowledge of birds.”

Wisdom, Peterjohn said, has likely raised at least 30 to 35 chicks during her breeding life. Almost as amazing as being a parent at 60 is the number of miles she has likely flown. Adult birds average about 50,000 miles annually, so Wisdom has flown at least two to three million miles since she was first banded. That’s the equivalent of four to six trips from earth to the moon and back again, with plenty of miles to spare.

Have you seen this bird?

2011-03-08T21:18:00.000-08:00

It's British Columbia's most widespread and abundant warbler.

A small number of these hearty songbirds overwinter on Vancouver Island. A pocket population socks in on Stubbs Island near Tofino, B.C. where a forest of California wax-myrtle provides them with food and shelter. It's the only place the plant grows on Vancouver Island.

The berries are purple, contain a single seed and have a white wax coating. They are unusual in that the fruit ripens late in the fall, providing a bounty of calories in the winter when other plants are dormant. If the bushes were removed, the birds could not stay.

Each time we cut a tree, hack a bush, pull up a plant the little community of organisms that depend on it have to find a new home or source of food. When we need we should harvest. When we don't, we should leave it for the other species that live on this planet.

Amazing tales from nature

2011-03-01T07:56:00.000-08:00

I read a lot of comic books as a kid. Well, as an adult too. Giant grasshoppers and runaway tomatoes are imprinted on my brain.

Giant kelp is a real life plant, or algae, that lives up to the comic book hype.

Giant kelp and bull kelp are two characteristic species of algae on this coast. They wash up on the beach when they die and become whips in the sandy adventures of kids walking the shores.

Giant kelp grows an average of 27 cm per day in the spring. It can grow as much as 61 cm in 24 hours. That's two feet!

These tree-like algae form underwater forests where invertebrates, fish, marine mammals and birds find food and shelter. Even grey whales hide from killer whales amongst the stipes.

The popular image of a sea otter (not to be confused with the much more common river otter that is seen in the ocean around southern Vancouver Island) lying on its back, surrounded by kelp with an urchin between its paws illustrates and interesting interrelationship between those three species.

Sea otters were nearly wiped out in this coast in a hunting frenzy for their pelts in the 1800s. When their numbers were reduced, the kelp forests nearly disappeared. This was because the favourite prey of the otters - sea urchins - expanded their populations rapidly once they were free of their furry predators. The urchins eat the kelp and devoured the forests up and down the coasts.

It's one of the classic examples of a keystone species. An animal that may not be the most numerous, or obvious, but if removed from an ecosystem has a big impact.

All species have some function in their environment. Most of the time we do not see it, or understand it or make any decisions based on it.

Scenes from Beacon Hill

2011-02-19T09:09:00.000-08:00

I always think I need to go far into the wilderness to get great nature photos. Part of an afternoon at Beacon Hill Park in Victoria reminded me that I don't.

Beacon Hill sits between downtown Victoria and the cliffs that face Juan de Fuca Strait. Well-used by residents, the 81 hectare (200 acre) park sports a diverse population of creatures that tolerate urban conditions.

Besides these commonly seen denizens, hawks and owls lurk in the tree tops and a heron rookery survives despite annual attacks on their eggs and chicks by bald eagles.

This successful outing reminded me that nature is right outside my door. I just need to make time to get out there — and bring my camera.

Clean sweep at Willows Beach

2011-02-13T15:48:00.000-08:00

No dead birds were found on my survey today. Whew.

Not really surprising since oil, or oiled animals, from the boat that sank (see previous post below) would have had to come all the way in the Juan de Fuca Strait then hang a left to come up Haro Strait, and weave around some islands to land on Willows Beach.

That's not impossible when you consider the complexity of tides and currents, plus a big Pacific storm last night, but I didn't find anything more alarming than driftwood at the high tide line.

Hats off to the people at COASST (Costal Observation and Seabird Survey Team at the University of Washington) for getting the word out and co-ordinating beach surveyors throughout the Pacific Northwest for a fast response to this incident. I'll be interested to know if people found oil in other locales.

In my experiences with fisheries and forestry, our neighbours to the south tend to do a better job managing and protecting their resources than we do up here. In addition to powerful environmental organizations, the state departments responsible actually do their jobs instead of playing politics. Imagine.

I know that will surprise many Canadians, but our image of ourselves as environmental stewards has never been true. We just had so much natural wealth it took a lot of chipping away at it to reveal that fish, trees and water can disappear. And if we don't change our ways, they will.

This just in

2011-02-07T20:34:00.000-08:00

An 80-foot boat sank off Cape Alava in Olympic National Park in the state of Washington last Thursday. That's not far from here, so the people who organize BC Beached Bird Surveys, Bird Studies Canada, have called for volunteers to scour the coasts around Victoria and area for signs of oil or animals in distress due to oiling.

I've been a volunteer beached bird surveyor since last January and have only seen one dead bird in that time. Thankfully. The purpose of the program is to gather baseline data on the incidental oil already washing up on our coast and the impact it has on wildlife. This with the hopes of keeping the moratorium on oil tankers tripping through Georgia Strait, the body of water between Vancouver Island an the mainland.

The vessel in question sank with over 14,000 litres (or 3,800 US gallons) of fuel onboard. I can't picture how much that is, but I do know that one litre of oil can contaminate two million litres of water. Thank you Transportation Tune-Up.

I also know what a beach littered with dead birds looks like.

I came across this die-off of common murres at Pachena Bay near Bamfield, B.C. in 2008. It's what got me started in the Beached Bird Survey.

I hope not to see anything like it when I head out to do the emergency survey this week.

A question of culling

2011-02-06T10:40:00.000-08:00

There's been talk lately of culling deer on southern Vancouver Island. In Garden City, it seems, folks are fed up with herds of herbivores chowing down on their pansies and petunias.

While some talk, others have been hunting in the suburbs with crossbows and leaving beheaded deer carcasses behind.

Wolves and cougars keep populations in check in less urban areas on the Island but cities offer refuge for deer and the open habitat with a wide variety of foilage they prefer. Wolves and cougars that follow them into town get shot on sight.

Besides reducing annuals and perennials, large deer populations remove the shrubs and plants songbirds rely on — especially on islands.

The results of recent research done on the San Juan Islands (where this lovely creature was photographed) suggest that the larger the deer population, the fewer kinds, and numbers, of birds.

A similar study done on Haida Gwaii in 2005 found songbird abundance 55 to 77 per cent lower on islands where deer lived for more than 50 years, compared to islands with no deer.

Similar problems exist in the Gulf Island archipelago to the east of Vancouver Island.

The researchers state that if deer are not actively managed, local extinctions of native plants and birds will accelerate in the decades to come.

I'm generally not for human interference with wildlife, but humans tend to be the cause of such problems. Animals are introduced to places they may not have colonized on their own because we want to eat them, or look at them.

And songbirds already have enough to contend with as they are hunted by house cats, lose habitat to development and fly into windows. Migratory bird populations are in sharp decline across North America. Birds will be further threatened by the effects of climate change.

Or maybe we should leave well enough alone since our meddling usually creates more problems.

The price of gold

2011-01-30T18:33:00.000-08:00

Here's a lovely and common bird. The American goldfinch is a true North American. Some breed in southern Canada and winter in the southern U.S., others live year round in the central States and northern Mexico.

They do well in human-dominated landscapes, but I bet many non-birders have never seen one despite the male's bright breeding plumage. Birds go about all kinds of business under our noses. Even keen birders miss them. If you don't know what to look for, or you're just not looking, the rarest of creatures could fly by and never be noted.

Goldfinches are relatively common, so keep your eyes peeled.

That attention-grabbing plumage comes at a price.

It's long been know by biologists that lush colours in birds and other animals represent fitness to potential mates. In other words, the stunning bumble bee combination of this goldfinch, says to the more drably coloured female 'hey, my genes are good, if you were thinking of laying some eggs, I'd be your guy.'

The idea is that to have such a display, the creature must maintain a good diet to get the nutrients to produce the colour. In other words, a good provider. Additionally, such a brightly coloured animal must be clever enough to evade predators despite wearing what amounts to a high vis. vest. This is the theory of sexual selection. It has lead to the evolution of fantastic colours and bizarre appendages in a wide variety of animals.

Interestingly, the dietary aspect of the theory wasn't tested until 2003 when scientists from Cornell University restricted the food available to a male American goldfinch. They found less carotenoids in the birds' blood and eventually grew rather drab feathers.

In our diet, carotenoids can be found in bright orange and yellow fruits and vegetables and also contribute to human health in many ways.

So, theory proven. Hopefully those hungry little goldfinches got fattened up and returned to their glorious hue after their service to evolutionary science.

Ghost story

2011-01-20T13:02:00.000-08:00

Everyone’s had this experience.

You learn of something for the first time – a new word, or food, or person you’ve never heard of before.

Then it starts popping up everywhere. In the Saturday restaurant review, in a conversation overheard on the bus. You wonder how you were in the dark for so long.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not necessarily talking about a new trend. More like something that somehow never hit your radar.

This happened to me with Indian pipe last summer.

This is one of those oddball plants that aren’t really plants. And I’ll admit, I’m not as attentive to the flora of the Island as I could be. The same way I neglect poetry in my literary explorations.

Still, you’d think this freaky, not-quite-a-plant-thing might have come to my attention sooner.

Let’s back up a bit.

I’ve explored the forests of Vancouver Island for nearly 15 years, often in the company of people who do possess a body of botanical knowledge I can only envy.

Yet, the first time I observed Monotropa uniflora (notice how smoothly I slipped in that Latin name) was this summer, reading another nature blog.

Just a couple of weeks later, I was climbing up Mount Galiano and there it was. Ghostly, white nodding pipes. More like a mushroom than a plant. Definitely Indian pipe alternately known as ghost flower, ice plant or corpse plant.

Indian pipe is neither a plant nor a fungi. It's a parasitic myco-heterotroph.

Yikes, what does that mean?

Fungi that are in a mutually beneficial relationship with tree roots act as hosts for this organism that uses hormones to steal the tree's sugars from the fungi.

It does not photosynthesize, as all plants do. The leaf like structures are vestigial, from the days before this plant came up with an easier way to harness the sun's energy than photosynthesizing itself.

The Salish people called Indian pipe wolf's urine because they found it growing wherever wolves marked their territories.

Bird stories

2011-01-15T18:47:00.000-08:00

Before I ran off to sell Christmas trees, I had two bird articles published. One was about the Christmas Bird Count in Victoria.

And the other, about hummingbird banding, appeared in the University of Victoria alumni magazine Torch.

Oh Christmas Tree

2011-01-02T22:56:00.000-08:00

I know, I've done it again. Promised to return to regular blogging then disappeared. Not health this time, nope, I'm feeling much better. Amazing what adequate oxygen levels do.

No, this time, I was absent due to the need to make a living. I returned to my old standby, flogging Christmas trees. Now, anyone who knows me knows I'm not really a Christmas person. For some reason though, I've always enjoyed working Christmas tree lots – something I did for the first time 19 years ago in Winnipeg.

I guess it's a way of being part of the season that's less painful for me than say shopping, or hosting a dinner for 10. Or maybe it's because I love working outside, doing physical labour and having something tangible to show for my efforts (like cash).

Whatever it is, it's set me up for another few months of the freelance life, and that should mean time to blog, which also produces something tangible.

Happy 2011 everyone.

Valid excuses

2010-10-21T12:10:00.000-07:00

I see the first statement of my last post turns out to be a lie. But with good reason. I've been struggling against a real lack of energy for some time and I now know why. I'm severely anemic.

What that means is that I'm lacking oxygen because I don't have enough iron in my red blood cells to efficiently transport that life-giving element. Anemia causes fatigue and mental confusion. Yep, that's been me for, jeez, I'm not even sure how long.

Good to have a diagnosis, even better to practice patience while my body renews itself. Doc says a couple of months before I feel significantly better. Everybody better watch out come early December.

Until then, I'll be gentle with myself. Do what I can do and see about keeping dear readers with some new material from here on the Island.

Like this view from Galiano Island. This would be one of the Gulf Islands, on the Canadian side of the water border. I visited at the end of June to interview a team of hummingbird banders and photograph rufous hummingbirds at the tail end of migration season.

I loved this long, narrow island. This view comes from the top of Mount Galiano. The trees that frame the other Gulf islands in the background are Garry oaks, unique to this region and so endangered that even private land owners need permission to cut any down.

I could go on and on about Garry oak ecosystems, but I've reached my energy expenditure limit for today. Here's a link if you want to learn more.

Sitting pretty

2010-09-14T15:31:00.000-07:00

Summer has passed and it's time to get back to business. That means being more faithful about my blogging. When the weather is nice, I want to be anywhere but the computer, but it's good to return and share some captures from my wanderings.

I've been wanting to catch this bird for some time.

The red-breasted nuthatch makes a good noise for a little bird. If you hear a nasally ank, ank, ank in the forest you can be sure there's a small bird spiralling down a tree trunk, head first, somewhere nearby.

That sharp beak pries under bark for insects to eat and also gets used to bang a hole into the tree to live in, the same as a woodpecker.

Nuthatches eat seeds too and will come to feeders, but don't usually perch for long.

Both males and females have an unexplained habit of carrying tree sap to the nest and smearing it around the entrance. Like I said, it's unexplained.

Females lay five to six eggs and the chicks emerge after only 12 days of incubation. They don't stay long in the crowded nest before they fly out on their own. Their main predators are hawks and this bird lives on a property in the North Okanagan where a red-tailed hawk also nests and a smaller unidentified hawk was seen darting about the ponderosa pine and Douglas fir trees.

Holding back

2010-08-19T10:19:00.000-07:00

I'd like to tell you the whole story of the osprey, up above the shipyard. The female giving me glaring looks. But I have to withhold while I seek a market for the tale.

I can share some photos. I've had two sessions now and anticipate a third.

And I can tell you this. This osprey pair had three chicks in spring – small, medium and large. Fledging three chicks is rare in raptors. Siblicide is common and it seems quite likely that medium and large kicked their weaker nest mate out some time in July. At the very least their greater size allowed them to keep the fish away from small, so the bird may have simply faded away.

That's life. In this case it's a two-for-one deal. And before you cast human judgements at the adult birds who turn a beak to this. Reproductive investment for a bird that lives a long time and has few offspring comes close some years to costing them their lives. In terms of survival of the fittest and passing on their genes, their best bet is to back the winners.

Sitting on gold

2010-07-24T11:12:00.000-07:00

Me and this female osprey nesting at the Esquimalt Graving Dock, a federal ship building and repair facility near Victoria, B.C.

Like the UVic osprey, this pair has chosen a busy place to arrange some sticks on a light standard. They live on an industrial dock where large vessels like cruise ships and ferries get hauled out of the water for welding, painting – you name it, it's happening while this female defends and feeds her young and the male delivers fish and hangs out on a nearby tower.

What struck me immediately about the graving dock, is just how clean it is. The Environmental Services Department takes its work seriously. They keep an eye on all the wildlife that transit through or live on the site. Measures are taken to keep green corridors open for the movement of deer, raccoon and otters. Great care is taken with the many hazardous substances used around the ships, to keep it from poisoning the water or land.

Everyone there seems pretty keen about the osprey and keep tabs on the nest with a security camera. Activities on the nest, used intermittently since 2006, are logged and staff want to do whatever they can keep the site suitable for osprey generations to come.

Meanwhile, I've got a boatload of pictures that I have to sit on until I have a market for them. But I can't resist sharing a few now.

Thanks to the Public Works and Government Service Canada people for putting me up in the air with the osprey.

Living in paradise

2010-06-26T20:42:00.000-07:00

One sight from my recent boat trip to the San Juans.

This is the view looking south east from the mouth of Reid Harbour (good name huh?) on Stuart Island.

I grew up in northern Manitoba, and like every landscape, it has its own beauty, but I never get over the combination here of ocean and snow-peaked mountain.

Or the forests that range from temperate rain to dry Mediterranean.

Here's some prickly pear cactus growing on Patos Island where we spent the first night. Cactus. Just a few metres above the Pacific Ocean.

Patos marks the northern limit of the American portion of an archipelago divided by the Canada-U.S. border (drawn in the water). On the Canadian side the chain continues and we call them the Gulf Islands. On the American side they are the San Juans.

The Spanish explorers Galiano and Valdez named this little island Isla de Patos in 1792. It means island of ducks. Coincidentally, I'm posting this in a hurry as I'm off to the Gulf Island Galiano. You can probably guess who that's named for.

But the most breath taking of all. Orcas leaping in the air just outside the marina at Point Roberts, Wash. You know when you see a killer whale breach within the first 20 minutes of the trip, it's going to be a good one.

Campus sweethearts

2010-06-19T16:14:00.000-07:00

To say I'm happy with my new camera outfit would be a bit of an understatement. I resisted as long as I could, in loyalty to my old 20D, but I have to admit that five years in digital technology time makes a noticeable difference.

Once my 70 to 200mm lens arrived I practically ran up to the University of Victoria to snap the pair I've been following up there.

These two have opted to nest on a light standard stuck between the soccer pitch and the track and field facility. That means it's a busy place, not only home to the uni athletes, but also the site of competitive sports between people much younger and older than that.

And the funny thing is that the osprey kind of squawk through the commotion. Like they didn't choose to nest in a busy urban environment, for at least the second year running.

The good thing about osprey is that they can fledge chicks just as well from a nest in a grocery parking lot as they can from one over a remote boreal river. In fact maybe the squawking isn't even a complaint (as it sounds to my human ears) but a greeting.

On this day, the fields were empty. Here, the male delivers a fish to his mate, whose posture suggests she's dealing with chicks. Right on schedule.

Birds of a sort

2010-06-13T17:36:00.000-07:00

Still waiting on a long lens, I took my new set up out to the navy fleet review on Saturday.
The Canadian Navy celebrates 100 years of service in 2010 and CFB Esquimalt hosted an international fleet review as one of the events.

Fleet reviews are pretty rare and used to be a way of showing one's marine military might. Now it's more of a bragging contest. Victoria hasn't seen a review in more than 50 years.

Coast Guard and navy ships attended from Japan, Australia, New Zealand and the U.S. Canada's Governor General Michaelle Jean inspected and the Snowbirds air demonstration squadron paid a visit.

Many of the eight thousand sailors (hello) from those ships took to the streets of Victoria making for an eventful weekend.

Throw in a couple of cruise ships, Buccaneer Days and the Naked Bike Ride and, well, there was plenty to point a camera at.

I even resisted the temptation to post the much racier picture of the fellow on the right.

Really, the long lens I'm waiting for would have been more suitable for that assignment.

In all other ways my new photography kit performed wonderfully.

Fonder heart

2010-06-11T20:38:00.000-07:00

If you're wondering about my absence in the heart of both osprey and hummingbird season, it's because my camera gear was stolen.

This has caused enough hurt to silence me.

Thanks to a system I've always distrusted – thank you insurance – I have a replacement. A bright, shiny, newer, faster model. I have had very little interest in testing it.

Also, I'm still waiting for my big lens to arrive. Then this summer's osprey stories will continue.

And my grief will go away.

Conflict of interest

2010-05-19T20:13:00.000-07:00

With several osprey nests on my radar, I'm torn away to band hummingbirds. At long last I've joined in on my first session of the year and so glad I did.

I've banded the last two years outside of Port Alberni in some pretty nice settings, but this year I'm helping south island crews and my first site was at a charming bed and breakfast on Salt Spring Island.

We sat on a deck with a multi-million dollar view (really it's for sale) and tortured small birds.

Usually banding starts at first light but we caught the 11 a.m. ferry for a noonish start and took tea around three with home made brownies.

Very civilized.

The feeder was humming and we gathered data on nearly 40 birds, I believe. I learned many new techniques and feel like a more competent bander for it.

I have felt conflicted in the past, but with the latest state of the birds report saying that the rufous hummingbird (the only species we catch) populations have declined significantly, I think the information gathered justifies the chance of stressing a few birds.

So that was Saturday. Which, of course, leaves only Sunday for the osprey. But never fear, I believe some fantastical osprey adventures are to come and I may even be able to call them work.

Lock up your gold fish

2010-05-15T20:05:00.000-07:00

Doesn't this osprey look demonic?

I haven't done any digital manipulating of his eyes (this is the male of the UVic nest). It may be that he's got the old third membrane drawn.

In osprey, and other birds that dive head first into the water, a special nictating membrane protects the eye from those high impacts.

Also called the haw, this slider moves across the eye horizontally unlike human eyelids. It can be clear or transluscent. Some animals, like camels, use it to remove debris from the eye. Polar bears get protection from snow blindness from the nictating membrane.

I heard a story about the UVic osprey grabbing overgrown goldfish from garden ponds. Probably didn't need the old eye protector on that dive.

Last photo tip

2010-05-11T21:09:00.000-07:00

If it's a picture of osprey it doesn't matter how crappy it is. Everything else you need to know about photography you can learn from people much more qualified than I.

Oh, wait, there is one more tip that this photo demonstrates. It was actually the last thing I was going to say before I recommended reading good books on the subject or taking a photography course.

See in the bottom left part of the frame where all those wires and things lead the eye out of the picture? You don't want that. When composing, take time to really look at what is in the viewfinder and where your eye travels within that rectangle. If the eye is running out of the frame, that's not good. Sometimes squinting reveals the overall impression of form and line and the path the eyes take.

I didn't do that in this case because these are the first osprey of the season and the first nest I've found in Victoria, so I was freaking out. Wildly snapping away without any thought at all.

That's it for photo tips. We will now resume our regular osprey programming.

Photo tip #2: The Rule of Thirds

2010-04-22T14:25:00.000-07:00

Okay, some people will hate this. How can you be creative following a bunch of rules you may ask.

Well, I love rules (as long as they suit me) so I can't relate to that, but you better believe that even Da Vinci learned the rules before he threw them out the window and did his own thing.

The rule of thirds relates to the Golden Mean, the magic ratio that turns up again and again in nature and human design. Why? Because it works. Most people think symmetry is where it's at (okay, I believed that for a long time) when in fact the brain and the eye like things that are a little off. Things that move the eye around instead of just letting it plonk on a subject and sit there, doing nothing.

Here's what I mean.

This photo places the subject smack dab in the middle. Very nice job of centering that man and ensuring nearly perfect symmetry with the boats. Problem is, that's boring. Your eye gets stuck on his bum.

Now, here's an image that lets the mind do a little travelling.

This is what you want in a photo, a little trip inside the viewer's mind.
Never mind that the boats are overexposed. That's not relevant to this discussion.

It's very simple. Imagine a grid in your view finder that divides the rectangle into nine equal segments, like the red lines in the photos above.

What you want to do is place the subject at one of the four intersections, or put a horizontal feature (like the horizon) on either the lower third or upper third of the frame.

On some cameras you can impose a grid on your viewfinder. Check through your features and manual to see if you can. After a while you won't need the guide.

And by all means, if the subject is perfectly symmetrical and that's just what you want to show, do it. But try playing with the rule of thirds to see if it makes some photos more dynamic.

Nest cams as nature porn

2010-04-17T13:32:00.000-07:00

Read my story about the eagle nest cam phenomena in today's National Post.

http://www.nationalpost.com/life/story.html?id=2916133

Photo tips

2010-04-15T20:23:00.000-07:00

I read somewhere recently that a good blogger offers readers something.

With that in mind I'd thought I'd do a little series of tips for people who want to take better pictures. Everyone has a camera right? And we've all been there, sorting through dozens, sometimes hundreds of disappointing photos.

I'm not going to get into hard-core technical stuff, just a few of the first things that I learned that improved my pictures almost right away.

Here goes.

Tip #1: Get closer to your subject

Yep, sometimes you're photographing the big picture and you've intentionally made the people really small, standing next to the Pyramids or what have you. But most of the time, when you're photographing people get that lens right in their face (probably better to zoom if you don't want Aunt Ethel to give you a good whack upside the head. And if you don't have a zoom, and there's no threat of violence, use your built in feet).

Since I don't take pictures of people (unless I have to) I'll use bird photos to illustrate.

Here we have two female red-winged black birds in a winter scene. Wow wee. Pretty drab.

I have done nothing to this photo, it is exactly as shot. At the time I liked the two birds facing in different directions and thought I might be able to do something with that once I got home to the digital darkroom (computer).

And here we have the much-manipulated final version that I decided was too poor quality to be of use, but still illustrates the point that the close up of the bird is far more eye-catching than the picture of the bird where it's about the same size as a pencil eraser.

There you go. Photo tip #1 is get closer to your subject. And this is for you folks, it's not just a way for me to make use of photos that I would otherwise deem too grainy and unfocussed to show. Really.

Common species

2010-04-11T10:21:00.000-07:00

Been thinking again about the way I take some species for granted.

I mean really, what isn't gorgeous and fascinating about this creature?

In some places, if there were no robins, there would be no bird life at all. You can reliably count on meeting them daily, wherever you go in this part of the world.

Look at that clear eye, the orange breast.
It's that flash of colour that reminded English settlers in North America of their dear little robins from home. This bird is really a thrush, though.

The song of the robin provides the background sound in cities and on farms from first light into the dark of night.

Cool fact. The American robin can stretch its esophagus to store food overnight. Very useful for getting through a cold Canadian winter with a light feather coat.

Common species like robins are often the first wild life children discover. Because they can be observed so conveniently and reliably they also make good species for study. Given the right question, a person of limited mobility could complete a master's or Ph.d from their kitchen window.

Thank you robin, just for being there.

Hooded merganser

2010-03-26T20:07:00.000-07:00

How many times have I seen these ducks without bothering to learn more?

Well, I have rectified that situation. After meeting this hooded merganser on Blenkinsop Lake in Saanich, B.C. I dove into my Birder's Handbook to read that this dramatically crowned creature does some pretty interesting things.

Exhibit A: females will lay eggs in each other's nests and this can result in a dump nest with dozens of eggs from many layers. Considering the high cost of raising young, this is a pretty good strategy as long as you're not the female sitting on the dump nest. Don't try this at home, ladies, no one's going to sit on your kids for you while you paddle around in the pool.

Exhibit B: Hooded mergansers will share incubation duties with wood ducks or golden eye females in a little bit of inter-species co-operation. Well, that's more like human moms who will do another harried parent a favour regardless of how little else they may have in common.

I'm recklessly anthropomorphizing because I got permission from a biologist at UVic this week. I called this smart man with regard to an article I was writing about eagle nest webcams. He was my expert, and I was not prepared for him to condone the chat on the website that goes on about ma and pa and the babies. He said that scientists need to remain objective when studying animals, as much as possible, but for the general public, making connections to their own experiences is how people do just that – connect – with wildlife.

I feel much freer to translate the thoughts of animals in cartoonish voices for other humans. Thanks Dr. Starzomski.

Rookie mistakes

2010-03-24T11:01:00.000-07:00

Feeling like a newbie at many things these days.

Since I’ve returned to Victoria, I’ve visited new trails and lookouts I somehow missed in the years I lived here before. Those unexpected newcomer experiences are great.

Venturing out for a long bike ride on the first Sunday of spring, I got five so-so photos before my battery died. Rookie mistake.

After kicking myself, and glaring at my now nothing-more-than-dead-weight-on-my-back camera, I put the brakes on that thought and chalked it up to a lesson.

Same goes for the ups and downs of my new freelancing life. There’s always room to learn, and in some cases relearn things I thought I already knew.

Always said I wanted to be an eternal student.

Game on

2010-02-26T21:06:00.000-08:00

I've been indifferent to the Olympics coming to Vancouver since the talk started so many years ago. Not for it, not against.

I was surprised then, to find myself getting excited as the opening ceremonies approached. I've been following closely since the start in a way I've not since the 1984 summer games in Los Angeles.

Last weekend I decided I couldn't sit so near in Victoria and not go check it out. As soon as I reached the ferry terminal I realized Olympic fever was everywhere.

Venues are cowded, people wait in long lines, but there's a lot of consideration and patience. Those long lines move more quickly and efficiently than I thought west coasters capable of.

Last Saturday I ambled around downtown Vancouver. It reminded me of being in Asia where there's always lots happening on the streets.

The vibe was fantastic. People seem to be loving the packed streets. I was party to many little exchanges where people from various nations attempted to trump each other with compliments about their respective homelands.

At times in the past few weeks, Canada's sudden nationalism has made me uncomfortable. At times I think about how many other ways the billions could have been spent. But most of the time, I've enjoyed these games more than I have any others I've watched since I was a kid.

Dallas Road sunset

2010-02-22T10:29:00.000-08:00

At the end of some days I feel like I haven't accomplished a lot, despite having kept my bum in the chair for the prescribed number of hours.

Then I take a stroll to the water where I drink in a view like this and I'm recharged.

How could something so pretty be bad?

2010-02-16T21:02:00.000-08:00

On Valentine's Day I had a date with the birds at Esquimalt Lagoon.

The swans didn't stand me up. Nor did the northern pintails or American widgeons (always sung to the tune of American Woman, it's this kind of stuff that makes bird watching cool).

I'll admit it, I'm finding it a little harder to access my feathered friends here in Victoria than I did up Island in Port Alberni.

It's easier to catch container ships passing through the Juan de Fuca Strait than it is to capture birds.

Still, I'm loving feeling closer to the ocean and appreciating encounters with urban wild life, like these mute swans. I don't know about mute, but they are quiet.

They are escapees from parks. Introduced for decoration from Asia, they haven't yet taken hold outside of park-like settings. That's good news for the native, and rarer, trumpeter swans.

More to come on this species. Like what is up with that big bulb on the beak?

On the hunt for beached birds

2010-02-02T20:07:00.000-08:00

I've settled nicely in Victoria and volunteered on another bird project.
Bird Studies Canada, and a team of citizen scientists, comb beaches on the West Coast looking for any birds that have washed up. The intent is to get a baseline on the number of birds killed by oil spills, but of course all kinds of information can be gathered from this effort.
I did my first survey at Whiffen Spit in Sooke last Sunday.

I had never visited this park before and lucked out with a sunny, 11 degrees Celsius last day of January.

Of course that meant everyone, and their dog (literally), also visited the spit for an afternoon stroll.

I didn't find any birds, which is good news, but I missed the best light for photographing the harlequin ducks that were paddling around while I poked through beach debris looking for bodies.

Hmmm, must get the best light to agree with the tides to get both jobs done satisfactorily.
All the same, it was good to get away from the desk and I expect good things to come from my new project in the future.

Oh, but I got this nice parting shot of a golden-crowned sparrow as I headed for home at the end of the day.

Nesting in Victoria

2010-01-15T16:53:00.000-08:00

I've landed, I've settled, I've started a business.
I dove into work and haven't taken a walk about with my camera — yet.
Don't despair dear readers, I've signed up for some birding activities that are sure to produce some interesting tales and images.
In the meantime, here's a view from my desk where I toil away, which isn't really so bad because sometimes I see the sun.

Migration

2009-11-20T13:50:00.000-08:00

Mine this time.
I'm at the start of a new journey, back to the closest thing I have to a home.
I've been in Port Alberni for two years and nine months, and it's been a good stop in my life. I've worked in the news business for the same length of time and that's been a useful experience.

Now it's time for me to create a new life in Victoria doing work that is near and dear to me, writing and photographing the natural world. Plus whatever else is required to pay the bills.
I'm sharing this news because I think I will be away from the blog for awhile.
Between here and Victoria I make a stop in the Okanagan for December to sell Christmas trees.
While I'm not a big fan of this commercial holiday, I have deep roots in Christmas trees.
I first worked a lot in Winnipeg nearly 20 years ago. The lot I'm going to run in Vernon, B.C. is one I opened 14 years ago.
The trees are local Douglas fir grown in a land-sharing program with B.C. Hydro under their power lines.
I have worked on that farm in all seasons over many years. I have pruned lower branches and sheared the trees into conical shapes with long machetes. I have worked alone on the mountain and I have worked with merry crews harvesting.
Some of the trees I will sell this year I may have first touched a decade ago.
I'm looking forward to this.

Then in January, it's on to Victoria.
In the meantime I may have stories to share.
For certain I will return to my stories from this Island in the New Year.

Like the osprey, I have to fly.

Osprey games

2009-11-06T11:01:00.000-08:00

One day, while watching the osprey nest in Nanaimo, I watched an episode between the two nestlings that got me thinking.

They were waiting the return of their parents, and the fish that would accompany them.

They cried constantly. Then lifted off the nest and chased each other.

One of the birds had this tangle of rope caught in her talons.
The other chased aggressively.

It was like that mad hour in human homes before dinner time. When kids are out of control with hunger and it feels like it could turn murderous at any time.

This looked that way, but maybe it was simple play. Many mammals and birds are known to engage in play of some sort. As it is for the human animal, the young are practicing skills they will need to use when it's time to fend for themselves.

In the case of these osprey siblings, they flew at eachother and made dives and dodges to evade attack. The one without the rope in talons picked up a sturdy stick at one point and tried to drop it on its soaring nest mate below.

These birds, and their parents, would soon be leaving on a long trip to their wintering grounds in Mexico and the northern parts of South America. Besides the acrobatics, just working their flight muscles would seem to be a good idea before the journey.

Once the fish arrived, the pair returned immediately to the nest and didn't move again as a steady stream came in on the feet of their fishing guardians for the next half hour or so.

Absence

2009-11-03T10:56:00.000-08:00

I've been negligent with posts lately, but I'm not totally slacking.

The weather has turned to rain and wind, the osprey are gone. I'm less likely to be in the field getting new material but I am researching osprey migration.

There's a fair bit of information out there but not a lot specific to osprey from Vancouver Island. The short story is that most osprey from British Columbia winter anywhere from Idaho to Texas with the majority found in Mexico and El Slavador.

I'm sifting what I'm learning for the long version. Until then here's another shot from the Nanaimo group back in August.

Country raccoon

2009-10-18T10:11:00.000-07:00

I'm used to seeing these guys in town. Either this is a young raccoon, or the forest version isn't as plump as their city kin.

I first thought that an old forest next to the ocean shore would be rich with food for such a scavenger. But maybe it doesn't measure up to the contents of dumpsters and compost bins in town.

Raccoons can live as long as 16 years in the wild. Most don't make it past their second year, when they become independent of their mother.

After that, raccoons are solitary animals. They are also nocturnal, though this one had some business keeping it up during the day.

I love their hands. Little primate-style hands on a rodent (I read that they are more closely related to panda bears than anything, but still).

Shore excursion

2009-10-14T10:39:00.000-07:00

Port Alberni is situated up a long inlet from Barkley Sound and the Pacific Ocean on the west coast of Vancouver Island. It's easy to forget about the ocean here, what with the mountains and big trees.

I took a hike to one of the places that allows me to visit the sea on a trail created by an old Canadian Pacific Railway line.

I glimpsed a sea lion that breathed so loudly, I first thought it was a whale. Didn't get a pic of its enormous back folding under the water.

Others, like this little song sparrow, came out from under the beach litter to investigate me.

And I found little scenes in old iron that intrigued me.

Things I know about osprey

2009-10-11T10:30:00.000-07:00

It's been a busy time of bathroom renovating, working and planning for a big change. I haven't been out collecting material – didn't see any critters during the bathroom reno, which is a good thing.

Still thinking about osprey though. Here's a list of osprey facts that came off the top of my head.

They have no near relatives. They are somewhere between a falcon and an eagle. Latin name Pandion haliaetus.

People call them fish hawks. They eat fish only.

Females are bigger than males because they defend the nest from predators like bald eagles.

They have what's called a nictitating membrane on the eyes that protects them when they dive into the water head first.

They dive in head first but come out with fish in their talons. (Would love to see the underwater roll).

They shake like a dog when they exit the water.

There used to be colonies of 200 to 300 nests in parts of eastern North America before DDT reduced their numbers.

They don't seem bothered by human activity and often nest in the open, in busy ports and urban areas.

They are one of the most cosmopolitan species of bird, living around the world on fresh and salt water.

North American osprey winter from Mexico south to Northern Argentina. There are some year-round residents in parts of the Southern U.S.

Raven's dinner

2009-09-26T09:30:00.000-07:00

Spent four glorious days on the west coast of Vancouver Island. Camped at Surf Junction and spent warm sunny days on the beach.

Late one afternoon a hake, deep sea fish, came up with the surf on Long Beach. Two people tried to coax the battered fish back out to sea, but it was done for. The body was rubbed raw and the fish didn't have the strength to struggle past the breakers to the deep.

Who knows what kind of day the fish had to wind up dying in the last of the sun.
Turned out to be a good day for a raven who spotted the fish and came in for closer observation. After a bounced landing on the sand a test prod with the beak elicited a full body flip and the raven took to the air again.

I puzzled over that. Surely the fish was weak enough for the bird to take. Couldn't the raven finish the job with its sturdy beak or did it not like its meal that fresh?

I returned to wave gazing and watched a woman try to send the fish into the water with her feet, then her hands for as long as ten minutes before she gave up.

I remembered being on commercial fishing boats as an observer and seeing tonnes of this species shovelled into the ocean dead, treated like garbage and realized that had made me see them in that way. As a worthless fish that didn't really matter. I liked that other people made no such judgement of the worthiness of this fish for their aid.

Then I thought about the raven. What about its free meal.

That train of thought ended as the bird returned, this time with a partner. The fish rescuers were further down the beach and the pair moved in for the kill.

I have read before of ravens sharing meals like this. Partly they need the help to rip and carry but it also seems to be an I'll scratch your back, you scratch mine arrangement. Not always between related birds either.

They ripped the fish into chunks and flew into the trees with their bounty.

I trundled down to the water's edge to see what was left.

The raven had plucked and eye, but left it. The head remained with what seemed like a lot of body still attached to it.

Wasteful ravens, I said.

A few minutes later one of them flapped back in and swooped up the last piece of hake.

The great blue

2009-09-17T09:48:00.000-07:00

This heron looks fabulous but the photo at left hides the story.

The bird has sores on many places on its body. In this pose the long feathers hide them, but a close up of the foot tells the tale.

Also when the feathers are blown back there are areas on the body where it looks like there are open sores.

I don't know what this is. Many birds molt, and change over their feathers at this time of year, but that's not what it looks like.

This heron hangs out at a marina in Nanaimo, near industry and heavy recreation use.

Herons seem to have adapted well to living amongst humans. They are seen everywhere on the B.C. coast, but they are listed as a species at risk both provincially and federally.

Empty nest

2009-09-09T11:56:00.000-07:00

I returned on Saturday to an empty nest.

I scanned around until I located one of the young osprey sitting on the line of a ship docked at the port.

It cried a bit then flew off in the direction of the fishing grounds just over a small rise where the river pours into the sea.

I packed it up and went to see what the family was up to on the other side and it was like a different world.

At low tide, pools of water glittered on the mud flats. Rather than concrete and metal of the nest site, it was all water and trees.

The location of the nest was pretty unpicturesque but the fishing grounds were gorgeous and situated in such a way that I thought the parents could keep an eye on the nest while foraging.

If so, both male and female would be able to provision the chicks earlier in the season. The typical osprey nest sees the female standing guard against chick-eating predators for months while the male runs himself ragged feeding the whole family.

If this pair have found a way to do both at once, that would be a significant advantage.

That would make an extremely interesting research project.

The fact that all four birds now spend time at the estuary means they may not be at the nest anymore. They are much more difficult to spot spread out over a large bay than sitting on top of a light standard.

Soon they'll be headed south. Osprey I've watched previously depart in early September for their wintering grounds in central and south America.

I may see them again, or I may have to wait until next spring.

Help in high places

2009-09-02T13:54:00.000-07:00

I started eyeing up the big orange structure and assessing the many stairs on it just before Mark and his assistant wandered over. They were employees at the port-loading facility and I thought this might be the part where I was asked to leave.

I was dead wrong.

The pipes over my head had been rumbling and the two men were checking to make sure something came out the other end. They stopped and we chatted for a while. Mark told me the real name for the big orange thing – container crane – not as technical as I would have expected.

He suggested that would be a good place for me to be. I agreed and he gave me the number of the "guy that owns the thing." I couldn't imagine one guy could own anything of the sort.

This crane must be over 30 metres in height. You can see it from just about anywhere on Nanaimo's waterfront.

I had written off the idea of gaining access as ridiculous, but the thing is, if you ask, people usually help you out. In fact, I didn't even ask. It's got something to do with the birds.

I took the number knowing it would be a weekday thing to set up. As I discovered the next day, there might not be another week with the osprey.

The family tree

2009-08-27T11:56:00.000-07:00

Ok, Ok I had it all wrong.
On return to the nest last weekend the situation quickly revealed the family's structure.

On arrival there were two osprey on the nest, crying incessantly. That makes them chicks but I never would have guessed it by size.

For some time they just sat waiting for their fish to be delivered.
At last they got off the nest and flew around chasing eachother in what could have been play or could have been a more sinister kind of sibling rivalry.

It's not uncommon in raptor nests for the stronger nestling to do away with the weaker, but that's much earlier on.

These two are pretty much full-grown and not likely to risk injuries from a battle with a nest mate.

As they flew, the rope-tangled talons came into view, meaning it's one of the young with the problem. But she's huge. I would never have believed that was this year's offspring if the parents didn't come along shortly thereafter.

Until then, the fledglings soared around taking pot shots at eachother but once they heard the call of a fish-bearing parent they rushed back to the nest.

From that point on it was a steady stream of what looked like perch brought over by both adults.

Five fish came in the 30 minutes I stood there watching. The adults were still out fishing when I left to get my dinner.

Fruitful searches part IV

2009-08-24T11:00:00.000-07:00

Back on the boat, editing photos, I could zoom in on the rope and got more concerned as it looked like it had been tight on the upper leg and rubbed feathers away and into the skin.

My instinct always is to leave well enough alone, but I didn't feel right knowing she could be in trouble and not consulting someone.

I ruled out the government agency. I pictured nets being dropped from a helicopter on an animal who can likely solve her own predicament.

I looked up the local rescue agencies. Rang one number, no answer. No surprise on a Saturday evening. I didn't leave a message.

Within ten minutes, Lorinne called me from Second Chance Wildlife Centre. I gave her a sketch of the situation.

"Is she flying?" she asked.
"Oh, yeah," I said
"Then that's it," she said.

They wouldn't attempt to catch a raptor on the wing. Whew, I liked that answer.

We talked for a while and she told me about a recent rescue of a juvenile osprey.

The bird had landed on the Gabriola ferry with the marks of an eagle attack. Lorinne retrieved the bird and immediately shipped it by floatplane to O.W.L. on the mainland in Delta, B.C.

She asked if I was around for another day as the bird would be back for release soon and would I like to be there?

Tough question, that part of me that doesn't agree with the interference goes against the other part that wants to be as near as possible to these birds and the part of me that believes that wildlife rescue, when done well, helps keep some populations going in a human-dominated landscape.

She said she'd call over to O.W.L. to find out when the release would happen.

It seemed the young male didn't know how to fish yet and they wouldn't free him until he did. There were training sessions going on with a pool and goldfish. Lorinne said osprey are hard to rehabilitate because they are fussy eaters.

As for the entangled female, O.W.L. reported that if she couldn't free herself, she would eventually get into trouble. They said her mate would feed her but eventually give up if she couldn't pull her weight.

Lorinne and I both wondered whether the rope had come from someone trying to catch her.

I gave her the nest location so she could monitor, or get people who work at the port facility to keep watch.

If she comes to ground exhausted or hurt, they will pick her up.

Looks like weekends in Nanaimo will be the new regime. I hope the rope is gone when I see her next.

Fruitful searches part III

2009-08-22T11:46:00.000-07:00

For the Duke Point trip, I had no map. I drove all around the industrial park and the ferry terminal on the little finger of land poking into Georgia Strait.

Heading down the last road, I ended up in a log-sorting yard on the water next to what looked like a mountain of salt and a huge, red, ship-loading structure (not the technical term).

Ready to call it a day I sat, looked at the log booms and containers on barges sitting in the bay.

A dark figure perched on a nearby rail caught my eye.

To the untrained eye, it could have been an immature sea gull, or a bald eagle, but I knew immediately that the white speckles on the brown back meant one thing. Osprey.

I quickly got my camera out and photographed its back in case that was all I was going to get.

It soon tired of my attention and lifted off, and I was prepared to be thankful I saw anything until I followed its flight to the top of a light standard in the middle of the huge concrete loading area.

It flew to the sound that had been nagging me from over my left shoulder. The sound of big, hungry, young osprey waiting for fish.

It was more than likely the male I first saw, quickly getting a bite of fish before delivering the remains to the mob on the nest.

From what I could tell, the female and one nestling were up top and once they tore into the fish the flapping and crying stopped.

Sometime later I saw two on the nest with two perched nearby, suggesting the typical brood of two young but they were so big, it was hard to tell who was who.

Also, the band of dark feathers at the neck that usually signifies a female seemed to be present in all of them making it more difficult to decide who was the mature male and who a big chick. The female adult stood out because she's bigger.

She stood out for another reason, too.

After the feed, two birds came back to my level at the rail. The mature female seemed to be carrying moss in her talons. Nest repair? A bit of a surprise as what would have been a deep cup nest earlier in the year was now flattened. The platform was more like a meeting place than a shelter. Fledglings and adults don’t need a nest, just a fish-delivery point.

As the female passed over me, I could see it was rope tangled in her feet. Closer still and I saw it was old yellow polypropylene, about a quarter inch, that she'd been worrying at.

It's surprising she couldn't free herself with her razor-sharp beak. Then again, I couldn't know how long she'd been dragging it around.

I continued snapping, wishing I could just cut that rope off her, but she didn't look distressed or bedraggled. I watched for a while longer and left them in peace.

Fruitful searches part II

2009-08-20T12:17:00.000-07:00

Next I headed out toward the Nanaimo Lakes area where I had looked a few weeks earlier.

That search ended at a TimberWest gate where a nice young man told me I had to pay two dollars to continue to the lakes.

What? A logging company, given public forest land for free by the B.C. government, now wants to charge me to go to the lake?

I don't think so.

I ended up looking along the Nanaimo River that day with no luck. Had a really nice swim, though.

The rumoured nest I was looking for was supposed to be in a patch of woods that had a no trespassing sign on one access point, which I skirted around until I found a path on the other side.

As always, prepared for my task, I tiptoed over thorny blackberry vines in sandals leaving trails of blood.

No osprey.

But the man at the wharf told me about another nest out at Duke Point, where the ferry runs from Nanaimo to Tsawwassen. He said I could get permission to visit the site when the port office opened on Monday.

Right.

Off to Duke Point.

I'm not going to say how I knew about the first two locations. OK, I will. I Googled ‘osprey nests in Nanaimo’ and they were pinpointed on Google maps. Ahhh, the cushy life of a modern naturalist.

Fruitful searches part I

2009-08-18T10:25:00.000-07:00

At long last I have found an osprey nest.

I have been, somewhat casually, tromping around lakes and wading up rivers around central Vancouver Island looking for something that is often conspicuous. When I found it, it was.

I had two leads to follow around Nanaimo – the Port of Nanaimo Assembly wharf and a cluster of trees just off the Island Highway.

I started at the wharf, a huge loading area for heavy industry right downtown and next to the Gabriola ferry terminal. I checked in at the commissionaire's office. Locked. No surprise on a Saturday.

So I drove on out passed the many 'NO UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL' signs until the guy in the green truck raced over with an amber light flashing and stopped me.

I find there is nothing wrong in these situations with using a little female charm and he led me to where a nest had existed earlier this summer. It was right at the water's edge, high up on a light standard with a flat platform on the top. An invitation to osprey.

He couldn't help himself. He told me how it had two chicks but that the parents abandoned them. They still saw the osprey around, he said.

What may have been seen as abandonment may simply have been that the chicks were ready to fly. I didn't get the whole story from him.

For now, there were no osprey around. I decided I could call back to learn more and continued on my search.

Success at last

2009-08-15T18:05:00.001-07:00

Oh finally. I have found an osprey nest.

It's not quit what I had expected – it's in Nanaimo in a heavily industrial area – but I got my fill today.

That's not true.
I got a taste and there's a story that goes along with the 115 photos.

For now, here's a look at what makes my heart beat faster.

Birds brains part II

2009-08-07T11:21:00.000-07:00

There is so much going on in bird behaviour research right now.

Here are the latest bits of research rocking the foundations of the old bird brain stereotype.

The big paper documents New Caledonian crows using tools in sequence to solve a problem, without any prior training. That's not been seen in any animal before.

The other published study, with video, has rooks using objects to raise the water level in a container to a level their beaks can reach. That's not really news though. Aesop recorded that one many centuries ago.

Now, if only I could find that article about the part of the brain this intellectual might was stored in. Because I know everyone is just waiting to learn the name of the structure.

Swimming hole

2009-07-31T11:48:00.000-07:00

For being on an island in the Pacific, the Alberni Valley is blessed with many fine freshwater swimming spots.

Here's my latest favourite. Regular dips have been a necessity lately as the temperatures have been over 35 celsius for more than a week.

This little spot is on Sproat Lake, a 3,800 hectare deep, clean body of water about 10km from town.

It's one of a group of lakes on this part of Vancouver Island that offer a change from the saltwater beaches.

Sproat Lake is home to my kayak, the Martin Mars waterbombers and at least one osprey that I've seen.

Too hot to blog

2009-07-27T10:55:00.000-07:00

It really is, too hot to be inside, too hot to be at a computer.

I'll post a pic I've been sitting on and introduce an area I've been reading up on.

Bird intelligence.

I've been following animal intelligence research for years and more recently digging into the work on the smarty pantses of the bird world, the corvids.

This group includes ravens, crows and jays which have long been recognized as clever. Researchers now understand more about their brains.

The size of the avian brain made it difficult to explain their tool use and problem solving skills. Demonstrated behaviour that measures up there with dolphins and primates on the mammalian line.

What scientists, the mammals that they are, have been looking for is a structure akin to our frontal cortex to explain higher level mental function, but it isn't there.

Just about everything on a bird is built for flight and the brain, like other parts, couldn't get all bulky and still allow birds to get off the ground. So the way they've stored their smarts and where they've stored them is different than other animals. But it has been found.

I've read a lot of Candace Savage's writing on corvids and she says everyone has a crow story. I told this to a friend who paused briefly before saying "I don't have a crow story." Then a few minutes later she proceeded to tell someone else's crow story.

What I'd like to know is how the raptors measure up, especially the osprey.

Flora on the trail

2009-07-20T15:33:00.000-07:00

The pink flowers in the foreground are mountain heather

growing in the alpine.

Latin name, Phyllodoce empetriformis.

Phyllodoce was a sea nymph in Greek mythology.

"These cheerful bells ring an invitation to high places above the timber line, to those serene and lofty slopes where peace and quiet enter our souls," Lewis Clark, 1976.

The spot of water visible in the distance is the west end of Great Central Lake.

Broad-leaved willow herb

also called river beauty,

or Epilobium latifolium

found on the banks of Drinkwater Creek

poking out of the rocks.

A river beauty indeed.

Indian hellebore

aka Veratrum viride

one of the most violently poisonous plants on the Northwest Coast

which was well-known by indigenous people

who also found ways to use its strength medicinally.

In this area, the Nuu-chah-nulth rubbed the mashed root on sores

or rheumatic areas to stop pain and as a general liniment.

Toads on the mountain

2009-07-16T10:27:00.000-07:00

Aside from in my head, I didn't see a whole lot of wild life on the Della Falls trip.

This guy is the most memorable.

This western toad sat right on the trail while I took about 20 photos of it. I had my lens inches from the toad's nose at times. Didn't budge.

First time I've seen this big (up to 15 cm) species. This one was about the size of a large grapefruit.

The British Columbia Ministry of Environment website says western toads can identify predators by recognizing chemical cues they emit.

Makes me wonder if those pheremones signal intention or capability. A human would fall into predator category in terms of capability. If their identification is intention-based it could indicate that I was in an alert, hunting kind of state. Or just-a-hiker-taking-pictures state.

I'd like to learn more about that.

When I went for my evening stroll to the falls, I saw a red-tailed hawk soaring above the canyon where I camped. Always take that as a good omen. A Shuswap woman once told me I had hawk spirit, and I believe her.

I saw a baby Bewick's wren that same evening, near the base of the falls. It fluttered to a boulder just feet from my face and its parents scolded me harshly until I moved out of their range.

I imagine there was more to see, but I had my eyes to the ground a lot.

Love Lake

2009-07-13T10:36:00.000-07:00

Okay, I'm a big hero, the Della Falls trails was easy. Ha.

After arriving at camp on day one I set up, ate and had time to walk to the base of Della Falls before sunset.

The challenging hike was up to Love Lake on day two.
The trail climbs steeply up the mountain across from Della Falls to give the best views of the 440m falls.

As I switch backed up the mountain I would spend the next three hours climbing, I looked up to a rock ledge above me and saw a black bear looking down at me.

It was way above me, but I could see it checking me out, the same way I was checking it out.

I stopped, breathing heavily already from the climb, and debated canceling my plan. That left me with few options. The other hikes in the area require climbing gear and there wasn't a peaceful body of water to sit beside and read the day away. I took another look at the bear and continued climbing.

Well, that was it. For the first time in my life, I was scared of wildlife. I treeplanted for 11 seasons and never worried about bears.

On my walk in, I had started a little inside joke with myself. I had seen the scat of a small animal and decided it was wolverine.

I know there are no wolverines on Vancouver Island. I know they are vicious animals. In university I saw a slide show of a moose that a wolverine had attacked by jumping onto its back from a tree and eating it alive over many days as it walked.

Each time I saw animal sign, or felt nervous after that, I would say wolverine and start laughing.

But it didn't work on the Love Lake trail so I started singing. I don't know the words to a lot of songs. Three very different pieces walked me up that steep, treacherous trail waiting for a bear or cougar to jump me from above.

The main number was She'll be Coming Around the Mountain When She Comes. Annoying and appropriate. That was interspersed with bits of Spiders by Moby and Do You Feel It? by the Joe Cuba Sextet.

The Love Lake trail is the place to see Della Falls, and the precious little alpine lake they pour out of, which is Della Lake, not Beauty Lake as I said before.

Beauty Lake and Beauty Falls are just a little way down the valley from Della and almost as impressive.

It's like a ring of snow-topped mountains wrap their rocky arms around this little bowl with a turquoise puddle and just tip it so the stream falls thinly from the edge.

Love Lake was my planned swimming hole. Luckily I knew before I ascended that it would still be covered in ice thanks to water taxi operator Bruce, but it was still a surprise to see a big lake capped with thick ice on a hot day at the end of June.

I sat there looking at the impressive peaks of Mount Septimus and Mount Rosseau (1962m) across the ice and ate, and generally reveled in my well-earned summit.

I didn't feel fearful again after that.

Della Falls trip

2009-07-10T19:08:00.000-07:00

The Della Falls trail was not as hard as I expected. There, I said it.

The river crossing did not require rope. It required the use of the muscles in my legs.

It was disappointing to see a damaged bridge in a B.C. Park left dangling dangerously and impassable for a second summer.

Strathcona Park is the oldest in B.C., designated in 1911. It cuts a big chunk out of central Vancouver Island and is mostly accessible from Comox and Campbell River. I hope that this corner of the 250,000 hectare park isn't forgotten as Della Falls draws many visitors each year to the Alberni Valley end of the rugged mountain area.

After crossing Drinkwater Creek, I sat on the rocks patting myself on the back and puffing my chest out, then carried on to a river-side camp site about 3 km from the falls.

I camped at that spot, rather than right at Della Falls, thanks to a tip from Tony Greenfield, author of the recently released Waterfalls of British Columbia guidebook. I interviewed him for a story about his book and he said not to carry the heavy pack the extra distance but to day hike to the falls and Love Lake, which I did, and it worked perfectly.

As I scrambled up the bank to rejoin the main trail, I though to myself 'must remember this spot'. Didn't help. The only problem I had on the trail was finding that crossing spot on my way back out. I lost about an hour, and a lot of energy, going back and forth, looking for the way down.

I felt some urgency because my water taxi would be waiting at the dock on Great Central Lake at a pre-arranged time. I planned for a swim and lounging in the sun, but sweating it up and down a rocky path was eating into that time.

I looked at the dangerous remnants of the bridge three times and saw too much potential for a fatal fall. Eventually I bushwhacked my way down to where I thought the crossing should be and I wasn't far off.

After the crossing, I walked the remaining 11km without a break, which felt like a bit of a feat after two full days of hiking with the big pack. Over the final 7km I had little choice but to motor as the clouds of starving mosquitos were relentless.

I arrived at the dock 25 minutes before my ride. I got my swim in and sat looking back down the Valley. Then Bruce from Ark Resort showed up with cold beer in his restored 1973 motorboat to take me the 45 km across the lake.

Over the three days I logged 45 kms on my boots and I would do that trip again in a heartbeat.

Sneak preview

2009-07-07T19:42:00.000-07:00

This is really just a tease to let everyone know I survived the journey. Much more to come about Della Falls, the highest waterfalls in Canada, pictured here spilling from Beauty Lake.

Parting shot

2009-06-27T16:50:00.000-07:00

I'm off on vacation tomorrow.

If all goes well I will return in a couple of weeks with fabulous photos from Della Falls and the North Okanagan.

If not, I may get an eco-funeral courtesy of a creature like the turkey vulture.

The hike to Della Falls takes three days in and out. I've not done a multi-day hike before and I'm going alone, so I'll confess to a little apprehension. Especially as people keep telling me I need 30m of rope to cross a river where a bridge is out and I can't for the life of me figure what I'll be doing with that rope.

I'm sure it'll be clear once I get there.

Happy summer!

Birds I take for granted

2009-06-21T19:19:00.000-07:00

Cormorants fall into that category but like anything, start digging around and there's an interesting story there.

I saw these colonies of double-crested and pelagic cormorants during a lovely harbour cruise out of Nanaimo with my mother.

The birds live in impossibly small cliff nests on the west side of Gabriola Island.

Cormorants are unusual among seabirds in that they don't have waterproof wings. That's why they are often seen sitting on rocks with their wings spread out to dry.

Most birds get their waterproofing from the fine structure of the feathers but waterproof birds are buoyant birds. The cormorant trades being dry for the ability to dive to depths of up to 40 metres.

Under the water they are agile swimmers and pursue fish and small invertebrates.

Young cormorants in colonies form groups called creches that they hang around with when their parents are out gathering their food.

Cormorants, and especially their young, don't make it hard to imagine their reptilian link to the dinosaurs.

Licenced to band

2009-06-15T14:54:00.001-07:00

A male rufous hummingbird sits in a twin berry bush just outside the window where I band.

I got my hummingbird banding licence in the mail from the Canadian Wildlife Service last week. Just in time for the Saturday morning session.

I wrote about the Hummingbird Monitoring Network here and here when we started in April.

We get up earlier and earlier to have the traps open a half hour after sunrise. These days, that's 5:15 a.m. I'm getting up at 4:15 to be there. Did I mention I'm not a morning person?

Things have slowed considerably from our big 135 bird day. Last weekend 22 rufous hummingbirds got caught in the traps out near the estuary.

It's expected that the number of birds will go down as the migrators pass through heading for points north or inland. The unusual thing this year is how many males are still being caught this late in June.

We wrap each bird in a blanket and take various measurements as well as placing a

band around its leg. This male is getting weighed, the average is around 4 g.

We don't know why. It is one of the many questions that may be answered by this project some day.

2009-06-09T21:15:00.000-07:00

This is not a great photo but I can't resist introducing these cool little seabirds.
Rhinoceros auklets. I caught these two on the May trip to the San Juan Islands.

You may just be able to make out the horn that grows on the upper base of the beak. Thus the name. This horn is used to dig burrows where they stash their young while out at sea feeding.

The auklet is not an auk at all, it's really a puffin. It's unusual in being mostly nocturnal. In the day rhinos are on the water. At night they take care of business back at the colony where they compete for burrow sites, dig, lay eggs or feed their young.

Females lay a single egg and both parents put all of their energy into ensuring the survival of that one chick. That involves taking turns on the egg for about 45 days then provisioning it with a steady stream of Pacific sandlance for another 55 days or so. Herring or young rockfish will also do in a pinch.

More than 80,000 rhinoceros auklets, along with many other seabirds, breed on the Scott Islands off the north western tip of Vancouver Island. This is 12 per cent of the national population and 7 per cent of the global population. The breeding colony on Triangle Island (one of the Scott Islands) alone consists of over 40,000 breeding pairs.

The entire Scott Islands group is protected as a provincial park and a federal Marine Wildlife Area. The three outermost islands – Triangle, Sartine and Beresford – are ecological reserves and a permit must be obtained from B.C. Parks in order to visit them.

It isn't easy being green

2009-06-05T10:47:00.000-07:00

Meet the rare, red-legged frog. A new face on the Burde Street pond trails.

Red-legged frogs are nationally listed as special concern by the Committee on the Status of Endangered Wildlife in Canada (COSEWIC) and they are on the provincial Blue List.

The California variant of this species has been listed as endangered. In the U.S. once a species is listed, that's it. The recovery plan goes into overdrive and they seem to take the whole thing very seriously.

Despite having 186 animals on its Red and Blue lists, the province of B.C. doesn't have any legislation for doing anything about these disappearing creatures.

Federally there's COSEWIC and the Species at Risk Act (SARA) but what do they do?

“There are 449 species listed under SARA and next to none are receiving adequate protection. Instead of working to protect Canada’s endangered species, the federal government is working to evade the law intended to protect them,” said Susan Pinkus, Ecojustice conservation biologist.

The only critter Canada has done anything about aiding is the Banff springs snail which was already protected because it only exists in the National Park.

I'm not in support of elaborate plans and restrictions to save single species. These are big picture problems showing up in small picture situations. It's the big problems that need to be solved.

This frog's global status is listed as imperiled, I guess that's a step up from endangered.

Reasons for their decline have been listed variously as:

wetland destruction, degradation and fragmentation
urbanization
residential development
reservoir construction
stream channelization
livestock grazing of riparian vegetation
off-road vehicle activity
drought
over harvesting
exotic fishes (bass, mosquitofish) and possibly bullfrogs
global warming UV-B radiation
airborne contaminants
disease

Oh, to be a frog in this big, bad world

At this point the global picture is sending us warnings, in so many shapes and sizes, that suggest the planet's life-giving systems are on the brink of collapse. It's shocking that the goverments of rich countries like ours think they can keep playing the game by the old rules.

On osprey time

2009-05-31T16:57:00.000-07:00

This is not an osprey. It is a dragonfly. Despite being smaller and faster than an osprey, it is easier to photograph. I took this photo last time I was at the pond looking for the osprey. The big bird made an appearance, did a fly-by, sat in a tree (out of sight) then flew off toward Alberni Inlet.

I'm seeing osprey everywhere, but not finding the time to sit in one place and watch them.

I've seen one at Sproat Lake, but that lake is so big I wouldn't attempt to find a nest there. I've seen my friend up at the ponds intermittently. Watched her fly from the east (nest?) and soar down to the west, in the direction of the Inlet (fishing?).

She's probably the best bet to spend time watching. A friend has loaned me a portable blind, so now it's a matter of dedicating a day to osprey. That shouldn't be too hard.

Yesterday I was photographing motocross, yep that's the kind of thing I do, and a mark in the sky caught my attention.

Sure enough, crooked wings and all, a good sized osprey glided over the dusty, noisy track. My lens swung skyward practically involuntarily.

And I thought 'Hmmm, is that the one I see at the ponds?' The distance, as the osprey flies (in this case), isn't great. Or is the osprey population really taking off in this part of the world as I have suspected for several years?

Hard to say. It would be nice if there were some money out there for me to quit my day job and find out.

Chance encounter

2009-05-27T19:10:00.000-07:00

Today on my favourite trail network I met a bear.

Not the bear in the picture. That bear was in a tree in the middle of town when I took its picture last summer.

No, today's bear was right on the path near the ponds, moving slowly, turning logs and scraping the earth.

After rounding a corner I saw it not too far off and stopped short. The bear turned and looked at me then went back to what it was doing.

I was out for a run and had a goal in mind. I wasn't going to let a medium sized American black bear change my plans.

I said hello, put my arms over my head and asked it to let me by. It moved a bit, so I followed, thinking it would go off into the bushes.

Nope. I made some more noise. It moved some more. I kept moving forward as it did. I made a last call and it turned and gave me a warning charge.

I turned and ran, heart pounding. Laughing at myself. What a fool I can be sometimes.

Fact is, the bear outweighed me by a fair bit and it didn't take long to assess the situation and decide to stand its ground.

Still unwilling to give up my plan, I backtracked to make the loop in the other direction, well aware that if we had the same kind of meeting I'd be taking the long way home.

I ran cautiously, making lots of noise, and didn't see the bear again. I really love to see them, but if the bear hangs out there it will definitely reduce the appeal of running those trails with all the blind corners.

Stop thief

2009-05-24T18:40:00.000-07:00

The culprit

The lookout

The little house finch with the pretty song is ripping up my hanging basket.

No, that's not accurate. The female is going after my favourite plant in the basket. Her lookout, the male, does the singing.

She's destroyed a little purple daisy-like flower with leaves like carrot tops. I don't know what it's called. I got the basket from my mother, on Mother's Day. (Yeah, I know that's backwards.)

First, I came home and discovered clippings of the plant on the floor of my balcony and couldn't figure how they got there. I decided it was in too much sun and moved it in under the eaves.

Then, as I sat outside in the evening the brazen little hussy, with her mate standing guard, dove right into the greenery and started ripping away.

They're lucky I'm a tolerant person. So, I took pics, started researching. Turns out they are the only songbird that feeds their young exlusively on plants – seeds, nuts or greens.

Just about every other bird supplements their chick's food with additional protein even if they do not eat things like insects or worms as adults.

So, I guess I have to share. I wonder what it is about that plant specifically, though. Maybe she liked those leafy greens for nest material rather than food.

Sailing the San Juans

2009-05-21T19:59:00.000-07:00

On my May long weekend travels I covered ground that felt at once familiar and like charting new territory.

I met my friends, who have a great boat in Point Roberts, Wash. From there we set sail for the north eastern part of the San Juan Islands, specifically Matia Island.

On the way out we saw Dall's porpoises, the weather was ideal and we lucked into being the only boat to anchor in Matia Cove for two days.

Once we got on land and hiked around, I started recognizing the landscape and realized I'd been in the area on whale watching trips. We used to sail out of Victoria and approach the San Juans from the other side.

That kept me on the look out for resident orcas, but we didn't spot any. Saw some other familiar forms, though.

Like the pigeon guillemot.

This seabird belongs to the family that includes puffins and auks. They would be around the cove in the morning, sitting on the water or flying up to the sandstone cliffs where they must be nesting. Probably eggs at this stage.

They eat fish which they pursue by flying under the water, diving to depths up to 45 m but typically between 10 and 20 m.

They can also hover underwater and use their bills to pry mollusks and crustaceans off rocks.

I haven't read much about those fantastic red feet but such decorations usually signal how incredibly fit they are to potential mates.

As in, I'm so great I can survive even with these beacons to guide predators to me. Or, I'm such a super forager, I can get enough nutrients to keep my feet ultra red. It works, populations of this Pacific Northwest species are going strong.

They are known for doing a courting dance on the water which may be what they are doing in the photo below.

They are faithful to their mates and nest sites, so if I returned year after year I'd meet the same birds. They are known to live more than 20 years in the wild.

Osprey news

2009-05-21T19:56:00.000-07:00

Took a quick run up to the pond and saw the osprey before I went away.

She seems a little cagey, like I'm disturbing her, so I'm doing my best to give her space.

For now.

Kill the killer indeed

2009-05-13T19:39:00.001-07:00

I'm headed off for the long weekend, but here's something to ponder.

A member of the southern resident orcas that roam the Pacific from Vancouver B.C.

to Seattle, WA in the summer months feeding on salmon.

I don't think a single whale should die before every human activity that has lead to the plight of all these species be halted.

Humans hunted the whales that orcas eat, so now they get killed for eating what's left?

Humans have no place evening the playing field. We don't know enough to be tinkering in this way.

This is an outrageous suggestion.

Osprey memories

2009-05-11T09:42:00.000-07:00

I haven't seen the osprey in the last two visits to the marshes, so back to the hummingbirds.

Not that I totally forget about perching birds when there's a raptor around. No, actually, I do.

The moment a hawk, or owl is in the picture my interest in the cute little warbler or thrush is cut short.

My fascination with "birds who kill" goes way back. My connection to osprey dates back 23 years. I can remember every time I've encountered one.

The first was alongside a great, deep, cold lake in Northern Manitoba. A huge nest on a telephone pole. My high school biology teacher told me about it and I drove the 30 minutes out to go see it on a Saturday morning. This was at a time that I wasn't very interested in school.

Then there was a dry spell. The next memorable meeting was up north again. This time in Northern Alberta, treeplanting on a block next to a little lake and each time I planted to the shore, a female osprey in a monstrous nest across the way would lift off the nest and hover just above it giving me her warning cry. She is the biggest I've ever seen.

Next it was Bamfield Marine Sciences Centre and the last course of my biology degree – marine birds. I had to fight to convince my professor that osprey were marine birds. Hey, they were catching fish out of the Pacific Ocean.

The prof was all hung up on the little black and white jobbies that we usually think of as sea ducks. He was all hung up on numbers, too. I wanted to make osprey my independent study project and I wanted to do a straight up nest observation – pictures and words only.

He said if there were no numbers, it wasn't science, and that's when I knew that I wouldn't be travelling further down the halls of academia in biology.

I did do my project on the effects of weather on osprey foraging. It meant spending each day on the beach watching males hunting for fish in the surf and recording their efforts.

I also spent a fair bit of time at the nest of one of those males at a lake above the beach where his mate protected their two chicks. One time, when I went swimming beneath the nest, she circled above me following my movements as I paddled on my back and we watched each other like that for about five minutes.

The female up at the ponds may have just been on a stop over, or I've been missing her this week. Time will tell.

Oh, yeah, the hummingbirds.
After the big 135 bird weekend, the next session was just under 70 rufous hummingbirds caught and banded, or recaptured from previous years.
The composition of that group has shifted from mostly males to more females, some showing signs that they're ready to lay eggs.
That follows the expected pattern of migratory males passing through early in the season, followed by local nesting females until the numbers get lower and lower until we wrap it up in July.

Met an old friend

2009-05-05T21:02:00.000-07:00

I went up to Burde Street ponds to find the Audobon's warbler and I came away with a huge gift.

I pack my camera up the trail, brought a blanket to camouflage myself. I was prepared to sit tight at the upper pond and wait for the little bird to come. This is the hardest part of nature photography.

I always think there's a better spot, or I get sore, or bored.

I got up and shot a pic of a song sparrow and some lichen. Then I heard the call.

My stomach got dizzy like it does when you run into a crush unexpectedly. I felt giddy-happy and my heart raced.

I thrashed down to the lower pond, from the east side where there aren't any trails.

I sat under a tree near the beaver dam, incorrectly IDing a female hooded merganser as a grebe of some kind. I moved around a bit trying to get a better shot of the duck. It rained on and off and nothing much was happening at the pond.

I glanced over at the group of snags on an island in the marsh. There she was. Big and white and brown. No mistake. An osprey. My bird.

That's far from scientific detachment. I can't help it. I am entranced by this species.

She called and lifted off, soaring over the still water. I moved back over to the beaver dam, closer to the snag, hoping to get a good shot. She caught a fish, then went over to another snag to rip it apart.

I took several bad photos (too far away) before I noticed a crow sitting in the same snag, not five feet away, beak to beak. It challenged her twice. Went for the swoop that's meant to make her drop the fish. She fluttered a bit, but hardly reacted. The crow left.

She ate some more, then glided back to the snags on the island to finish. I've never seen that before, transporting a partly eaten fish.

I call her she, because she had the faint necklace seen in females.

After eating, the rain picked up, she flew a bit then headed off over the path to the upper pond towards the canyon.

I may have a summer project.

Nuu-chah-nulth territory

2009-05-02T12:54:00.001-07:00

A Hupacasath welcoming figure at the Tsu-ma-as River in Port Alberni.

I referred to Nuu-chah-nulth in my last post and should probably explain.

Nuu-chah-nulth are the aboriginal people of the west coast of Vancouver Island and northern Washington State. The name means all along the mountains and sea, referring to the lands west of the snow-peaked mountains that run up the spine of Vancouver Island.

There are 14 distinct groups and there's been enough archaeological research done on at least one of them, the Tseshaht First Nation, to demonstrate that they have inhabited these lands continuously for at least 5,000 years. The Nuu-chah-nulth Tribal Council has an excellent website where you can learn more about the people, their language and culture.

When I roam around the Alberni Valley, or over to Tofino or Bamfield, I am always in Nuu-chah-nulth territory and I appreciate their allowing me to be here.

Choo.

Another new trail

2009-04-29T14:27:00.000-07:00

I've been meaning to try out a trail along the Stamp River that was completed last year.

The Angler's Trail, or Sayachlas ta saa nim as it's known in Nuu-chah-nulth, follows the water for about 7.5km. The guide says it has fawn lilies. It does.

There are 29 species of fawn lily in North America. They are also called trout lilies, glacier lilies and dog's tooth violets.

I believe the ones on the open sunny edges of this path are Erythronium oregonum, aka giant white fawn lily.

For this trail it's best to park a car at either end and go in one direction. I was on my own, so didn't have that option.

Round about six kilometers in, as I realized I didn't want to do the route again in reverse, I wondered why I hadn't put my bike at one end.

Didn't turn out to be a problem. I went out to the road at the north end and picked up a ride from a nice young woman.
She lives by the trailhead and said she didn't even know it was there.
She says there're wolves in the area. She hears them at night. I saw some wolfish looking scat on the road near her house. Cool.

Heard lots of birds. Spotted a few. The white-crowned sparrows stood out. Didn't stick around for a portrait though.

This red-breasted sapsucker did. Busy drilling the big old Douglas fir, it hardly noticed me snapping away. The north end of the trail goes though a decadent forest. The kind that wants to make you weep at the feet of the giant firs and cedars.

Near the end of the trail I spotted this red beetle hanging in the air. Then it settled on a cedar branch.

It's a netwing beetle, specifically (sorry folks, I can't stop myself) Dictyopterous simplicipes. It's a species of the north Pacific lowlands. Adults feed on sap and are active in April and May. Young feed on the bark of dead trees.

Timely post

2009-04-28T13:39:00.000-07:00

Read this today about whale watching boats breaking the rules of whale watching.

A whale of a time

2009-04-25T18:39:00.000-07:00

With the ongoing uncertainty in my current job I'm leafing through my options and one of them is whale watching.

I worked as an onboard biologist for one season out of Victoria and, like any job, it had its low points but looking back I remember spending my day roaming around a gorgeous bit of the world looking at orcas and other marine life.

That sounds all right.

I always seem to find an ethical problem in my paid pursuits. With whale watching I had trouble feeling good about being part of a fleet of high-powered motor boats following a pod of endangered whales around day in and day out.

There are two kinds of orcas seen in the Pacific northwest – residents and transients.

Residents are large family groups of killer whales that eat salmon exclusively. There are three resident pods that stick around the Coast Salish Sea between Seattle in the south and the Georgia Strait up to about Vancouver in the north, with lots of roaming beyond that home area.

I've been keeping an eye on the industry and noted a few births in the resident pods this year. That's good news as this group is listed as endangered with just under 90 whales divided between three pods. The two biggest threats to the animals are pollution and dwindling salmon stocks.

The baby above was born the year I was on the water, 2006.

This spring there have been a lot of transient killer whale sightings. The transients travel far and wide in smaller groups (often a single female with one or two of her offspring, or lone males) and hunt marine mammals.

The most interesting website I came across is the Cascadia Research project that's following the movements of the transients here.

The other whales commonly seen in this region are the minke, grey and humpback whales, baleen feeders that strain small sea life through what amounts to sieves in their mouths.

This is the nose of a mature female humpback whale. She hung out between Victoria Harbour and Race Rocks with her calf for several weeks in October 2006.

There was a grey whale sighting in the Alberni Inlet just a few weeks ago. Highly unusual but indicates the health of the formerly industrial waterfront is improving.

The paper mill used to dump wood fibre into the Inlet and it formed a thick mat on the ocean floor, choking out life. A few years back people looked into whether it could be removed as a restoration project but found that now a new layer has settled over top and marine life has colonized this sub-sea floor again. Disturbing the new habitat would be too damaging, they decided.

Grey whales scoop mud from the bottom and strain the edible bits out of it. I wonder if that whale was able to do that or if it left the Inlet hungry.

What a difference two weeks makes

2009-04-21T20:54:00.000-07:00

At the first hummingbird banding session (see April 7 below) we had a total of four birds.
Round two, we captured and measured 135 feisty jewels. Eighteen of those were recaptures from previous years including one from 2005 that must be at least five years old.
We could have caught many more but we were limited by a small crew of three. That meant two people on the traps and one banding non-stop. I caught two at a time more than once. This is what the feeder looked like at the end of the day (noon) when we took off the traps.

Male rufous hummingbirds, like this one, make up the vast majority at the feeders. They fly ahead of the females from the southern wintering grounds to establish a good territory up here, and further north, where they nest.

We were surprised to see a fair bit of territorial behaviour in the males at this point in the season. My readings indicate they are pretty easygoing during migration Maybe the local boys are chasing the other males off.

Females hung back and waited for the ruckus to settle before buzzing in for a sip.

If you feed humming birds at home, don't use the dyed solution or mix the solution too sweet, both can harm the bird's kidneys.

Return to Burde Street ponds

2009-04-18T18:06:00.000-07:00

I guess once the Northern pintail shows up, that's it, the party is on.

Today, on my favourite walk, I saw little bit of everything and managed to photograph some of it between flash showers.

First eye-catcher was a wood duck. They are the type that looks like a decoy. Every decoy painter choses this dabbler for a model because their plummage looks unreally real.

Also new to the pond were groups of ring-billed ducks and an Audobon's yellow-rumped warbler flitting about. I plan to capture a photo of that adorable little songbird before it heads south again.

Instead, I captured the stately – and sedentary – swamp lantern (aka skunk cabbage).

Bird's eye view

2009-04-14T11:00:00.000-07:00

Of Port Alberni.
Including a log boom in the Alberni Inlet (lower left) and Mt. Arrowsmith looking much less towering than usual (upper right).

New character at the pond

2009-04-11T10:42:00.000-07:00

Signs of spring.

Noticed a new duck amongst the buffleheads and Canada geese at the pond on my run a few days ago.

Can we have and ID please? Northern pintail. Dapper duck. The bill is such a baby blue, it looks painted. (The one in front is an American widgeon, put that name to the tune American woman)
The Northern pintail is one of the first ducks to return to their northern nesting grounds in North America.

In French it's called canard pilet. That has a nice ring.
In Spanish it's known as pato golondrino.
Now, I don't know what the Spanish have against the pintail, or what they know that I don't, but the online Spanish-English dictionary says that golondrino means a boil in the armpit.

Day 1

2009-04-07T10:54:00.000-07:00

First hummingbird banding session started at 6:47 last Saturday morning. That doesn't sound bad, but our crew of four met up an hour before to head down the road to the site.

6:47 was the first bird. A frisky, and cold, male rufous hummingbird. Young by my estimate.

The next bird was 10:07 a.m. A recapture, which is always exciting. Stan, the master bander, didn't know what year the bird was from (has to check records at home), but at the very least you know the little male hummingbird you hold in your hands has made at least two round trips to southern wintering grounds and back here.

That was the bright side. It was a cold morning to be sitting around doing nothing. Sure, the odd kingfisher, song sparrow and bald eagle livened things up, but it's still frosty right after sunrise.

Then the sun broke out over the trees and the mountains and it was a glorious day and we went home.

West Coasters

2009-04-04T19:35:00.000-07:00

Thinking about a spring trip to the real west coast - Tofino, Ucluelet side of Vancouver Island - and I'm amazed I haven't been over since last September.

That was a great trip, though. Put my camping gear and bike in the back of the car, set up at Surf Junction (good spot, equally far from both towns and well-situated for the big beach and intimate Half Moon Bay).

Campground had outdoor jacuzzi and composting toilets, thumbs up on both.

I didn't drive at all while there, and popped back and forth between Long Beach during the sunny days and Half Moon Bay for sunsets.

Snapped some shots of tide pool life at Half Moon.

Here we have pisaster.

Notice the white sticky-looking strings between the sea star and the rock?

Those are tube feet. Starfish have this very cool hydro-mechanical system that operates these appendages on their bottom (non-dayglo coloured) side.

Tube feet are only found in echinoderms (which also includes sea cucumbers). The tubes and suction cup feet work thanks to a complex water vascular system that the early Romans would have envied.

The feet are for walking. Slowly.

Other Half Moon inhabitants (that I photographed) with interesting habits are anemones. Never mind the let-it-all-hang-out posture, look at the little flecks of stuff stuck to the anemone's body.

Bits of shell and other tide pool detritus. Makes them look sloppy. But a-ha. There's always a purpose. In an elegant little study, a young marine biologist (not me) demonstrated that the anemones purposely cover themselves to protect their bodies from damaging ultra violet light.

The undergrad put one group of anemones under UV light and in a short time they had collected a protective layer of sea crap. A second group, not exposed to UV light, kept themselves free of gunk. When that group was moved under the intense light they were soon shielded by broken shells and pebbles.

Further supporting this. The substance that gives anemone tentacles their pearly irridescent colours also reflects UV light to protect the delicate appendages. You rarely see stuff stuck on the tentacles.

To the outdoors

2009-04-01T19:07:00.000-07:00

The first truly spring day on Sunday and I tried out a new trail in city limits.

Still need to explore further but an hour's walk didn't show me all of the Maquinna trail system here in Port Alberni.

I did like what I saw and know it will be a viable alternative, on bike or foot, to my favourite in-town trail.

The Burde Street Ponds, or Rogers Creek Nature Trail or whatever it's called is four loop trails that intersect at picturesque spots, like Rogers creek. Plus side branches I haven't wandered down yet. It's mature second-growth forest, steep hikes up cliffs, flat strolls on old rail bed. There are two ponds rimmed in yellow lilies at the right time of year, but always alive with ducks and beaver families and sometimes a turtle or two.

It's five minutes from my home. I can get on a loop and do an hour-long cross country run or take a 45-minute bird watching walk.

I've seen a barred owl mobbed by about a half dozen robins in broad daylight there. A warbler I'd never seen before. Woodpeckers. Winter wren. Cooper's hawk. All the other usual suspects.

I've been looking for salamanders for a few years and I saw one there. Right on the trail.

I love it. I use it a lot and I thank the people who created it very much.

Everything's coming up thrushes

2009-03-28T16:24:00.000-07:00

I met this chap while out hummingbird banding.

One of the things I like about this project is that it gets me out at the crack of dawn bird watching. Something I never seem to be able to make myself do otherwise.

So you're outside, sitting still and quiet, and if there aren't many hummingbirds coming to the traps, it's great bird watching time.

The bird in the picture is a Swainson's thrush. One of those robiny species that I take for granted and tend not to pay much attention to.

So, I decided to put my raptor bias aside and learn a little bit about these birds.

First off, they are known for their song. Walt Whitman wrote about it, so did Henry Thoreau.

The reason their songs stands out is that thrushes have what's called a syrinx, or a double voice box that allows them to have air moving in and out at the same time. In essence, they can sing two notes at once and harmonize with themselves.

It makes a chimy, unearthly-sounding song. The hermit thrush's call is especially beautiful. You've no doubt heard them in the wood of the west – or the Swainson's or varied. If you hear a coach's whistle in the woods, there's a varied thrush somewhere nearby. In Eastern North America it's the voice of the wood thrush that inspires poets.

Speaking of the wood thrush.
A recent study involving the birds, fitted with geolocator backpacks for the first time, demonstrated that they migrate about three times faster than researchers had guestimated previously.

They fly about 500km each night and spend the day feeding and resting. Who wouldn't?

Another fascinating thrush tidbit is that they harvest pesticides from ants. People have seen these birds rubbing ants over their feathers. It's called anting, naturally. The most reasonable explanation seems to be that use the insect's defensive secretions to ward off pests.

Parasites are costly for any animal, and there are many examples of animals using natural products as pesticides (because going to the drug store is inconvenient, and they are staunch environmentalists).

Thrushes, it seems, take an ant bath.

Hummingbird banding

2009-03-25T22:18:00.000-07:00

In a few weeks I'll return to a citizen science project I joined last year.

There's a group of dedicated volunteers in the Alberni Valley who've joined the Hummingbird Monitoring Network.

Each year teams from Arizona all the way up here to British Columbia collect information about hummingbird populations and their migration patterns.

From early April to July we put in about a dozen sessions heading out at sunrise with traps and calipers to catch hummingbirds, band them, take measurements and send them on their way. Follow this link to an article I did about the project.

I've always had some apprehension about the whole banding, radio-collaring side of biology. Now that I've seen how little effect it seems to have on rufous hummingbirds, I feel a little more like the benefits may outweigh the risks.

I also hadn't realized how little is known about what seems to be a fairly common and highly visible species.

That's something that big-name biologist Paul Erhlich talked about recently after releasing a review paper on the 408 mammals discovered since 1993. That's 10 per cent of the known species of mammals.

"Our analysis indicates how much more varied biodiversity is than we thought and how much bigger our conservation problems are if we're going to maintain the life-support services that we need from biodiversity," Ehrlich said in an interview about the paper.

Basically the author of the 1968 bad news book Population Bomb, says these discoveries attest to how little is known about the natural world. The world that a single species, humans, are busy altering in every conceivable way.

"I think what people miss is that the human economy is a wholly owned subsidiary of the economy of nature, which supplies us from our natural capital a steady flow of income that we can't do without," he said. The income is the host of services that intact ecosystems provide.

Ehrlich and his wife, Anne Ehrlich are the originators of the rivet-popper hypothesis. As in an airplane, nature has some built in redundancies. So you can remove rivets on an airplane wing and still fly, but at some point, you pop one too many and the wing falls apart.

They say it's the same with natural systems. We can keep taxing them and breaking them down, but at some point they will collapse. Without a full understanding of the systems, and their components and interplay, it's anybody's guess when that will happen. What the last rivet will be.

Dog gone

2009-03-21T19:21:00.000-07:00

I heard there was a Great Dane at the Port Alberni SPCA and I thought to myself, "This is a message from the universe."

And the message is, don't leave this town. Stay put, get a big dog and settle in.

Great Danes don't turn up at the SPCA very often. Great Danes are bred and they cost and that's another issue for me because I need to get a dog from a rescue centre, not a designer breed.

I had to go see. Had to see the dog to know what to do. I cruised over to the pound and heaved a sigh of relief when the woman told me the dog had already been adopted.

Stupidly, I decided to have a look at the dogs that remained. Just for fun, I told myself.

Ten minutes later I was sobbing in my car in the SPCA parking lot. I could have taken any one of those wonderful animals home. One of them I really wanted. None of them deserved to be dropped off, possibly facing death if they don't get picked.

I have wanted a Great Dane for years. I'm not in a position to commit to a dog right now. My lifestyle, my work, just wouldn't make it fair to the animal.

I won't be popping in there again anytime soon.