It was another beautiful morning in South Holland, so I hopped on my bike and headed into the countryside again. My first new find is this striking common chaffinch (Fringilla coelebs) finally posing perfectly after it made me chase it from perch to perch for a while. I read that chaffinch is “literally “chaff-finch,” so called for its habit of eating waste grain among the chaff on farms in winter.”

Here’s one more grey heron picture from yesterday when the sun was nice and low to give it that golden glow.

Also, from yesterday, here’s a common reed warbler (Acrocephalus scirpaceus) singing away, who looks just like the sedge warbler we’ve already seen, but without the eye stripe.

Here’s my first raptor. It’s not a great picture, but the brown on brown coloration makes me lean towards Eurasian marsh-harrier (Circus aeruginosus), which I have also seen hovering over the fields once in a while.

On that patch of thistle blossoms yesterday, there was also a single, slightly-roughed-up, painted lady butterfly (Vanessa cardui), “the most widespread of all butterfly species.” We’ve even seen them in Estabrook Park, and more than once!

I didn’t see any new butterflies this morning, but I did finally find a dragonfly taking a breather, and the blueish tail plus one black “spot” on each wing makes me think it might be the aptly-named black-tailed skimmer (Orthetrum cancellatum). Right?

I’d better stop there, for now, so that I have something to show you tomorrow, just in case this weather doesn’t hold.

The planets aligned, and it was a nice sunny morning, for a change, and I had nothing else I had to do since the building in which I work is locked for the whole weekend, by policy, and I hear people need special permission to gain access. I could go to the library instead, but why risk it, right?

I’ve moved from Rotterdam to an Airbnb in Delft for the week, so my commute is now super short, but the best wildlife I’ve seen here so far has been in the fields between the two cities, so I headed out there when the sun rose.

I was very happy to spot a new bird, the common moorhen (Gallinula chloropus) aka waterhen or swamp chicken. They’re in the same family, Rallidae, the rails, as the Eurasian coots we’ve already seen. I read rail is the anglicized respelling of the French râle, from Old French rasle, from the Vulgar Latin rascula, from Latin rādere (“to scrape”), which is supposed to describe the sound they make. How’s that for a long walk?

I was surprised to spot more than one, since I haven’t seen one until now, and this one even had a chick with it, but the chick stayed further back into the reeds and so evaded my camera.

A godwit came out of the tall grass for a change, and this one appears to be a bar-tailed godwit (Limosa lapponica), based on the lack of orange in its beak, but in non-breeding plumage.

It turns out there are a lot of them if you can get to the right spot. The image below is a bit of a zoom-in, and the whole flock was easily twice this size.

There were also lapwings about, and this time, one also had a chick in tow.

Here’s a better image of the parent. That bit of iridescent green on its wing seems pretty consistent.

And finally, here’s a nice splash of color, a small tortoiseshell butterfly (Aglais urticae) feeding on the nectar of a batch of thistles growing beside the bike path. I read that they lay their eggs “on the common nettle, on which the larvae feed,” and I’ve got no complaint with that!

The only species in the genus Aglais that is found in North America is the fire-rim tortoiseshell or Milbert’s tortoiseshell (Aglais milberti) that I had the good fortune to spot in Yellowstone Park last summer. What are the odds?!?

Well, I’ve got some more pictures, but I’d better pace myself because who knows when I’ll get back out again to take more.

It’s a rainy Sunday afternoon in South Holland, and I’m in the library at TU Delft for the wifi and the comfortable working conditions. Despite the gloomy weather, I saw some fun scenes on my bike ride up from Rotterdam.

I was just riding a long and saw a big white bird land in the distance. I thought maybe it was an egret or even a stork, but when I finally spotted it down in a little canal between two fields, it turns out to be a Eurasian spoonbill (Platalea leucorodia)! Holy Living Eating Utensil, Batman! It was about 200 yards away, so really at the limit of my gear, but these images are at least good enough for a positive ID.

In the last image above, you can just make out the little morsel, at the left end of the stream of water droplets, it is tossing into its throat. I read that their “diet consists of aquatic insects, mollusks, newts, crustaceans, worms, leeches, frogs, tadpoles and small fish up to 10–15 cm (3.9–5.9 in) long.”

As I was intently focused on the bird, look who was horsing around in the background, a whole down of hares. Here’s four of them.

And here’s one taking a look to see who might be watching their cavorting.

Around the next corner and a bit further along, the path runs beside a larger canal, and as I rode by, I caught a glimpse of a sleeping great crested grebe. Even though I’ve gotten some pretty good images so far, I never know if I might be able to get a better one, and there is one in particular I’ve been hoping for. Well, today was my lucky day because here it is, a grebe chick on its mom’s back.

I was afraid that they’ve all gotten too big to snuggle with Mom, and this one isn’t tiny, but it’s clearly not too big yet, either.

Lastly, we’ve seen a lot of grey herons lately, and some of you may be thinking that you’ve seen enough or even too much, but this one let me get this nice portrait, so I just couldn’t resist.

Tomorrow is yet another holiday here in the Netherlands. This one is Whit Monday, the Monday after Whitsunday, also known as Pentecost, which marks the end of the Easter cycle that began with Ash Wednesday and the start of Lent. It’s supposed to rain all day tomorrow, so who knows when I’ll get to take pictures again, but I’ll be sure to post them when I do.

It’s a rainy Saturday morning in Rotterdam, and I’m taking a break from bicycle riding to recover a bit from the recent big uptick in my daily mileage, so no new pictures today. Instead, here are some new sights from my ride back to Rotterdam from Delft yesterday evening.

First, I came across this pheasant hen at the edge of the bike path on the outskirts of Delft. She had a few chicks with her, but they hid much more effectively in the tall grass, so I have no chick-pix for you. Sorry. I was on a different route than I take in the morning, so I’m not sure that she knows the cock we saw Thursday, but maybe she does.

Then, as I approached the outskirts of Rotterdam, I caught a glimpse in the distance of this magnificent nest with a white stork (Ciconia ciconia) in it.

Okay. Now for some of the little birds that have been forming sort of a backlog, and the first I can identify is this reed bunting (Emberiza schoeniclus) perching on a reed just as you might expect a bird with that name would do. It is an “Old World bunting” and so not very closely related to “North American buntings“, to which the indigo buntings we see in Estabrook Park belong. In fact, the North American birds once grouped in the same family as Old World buntings are commonly known as sparrows. Way to keep it confusing, guys.

Next is a sedge warbler (Acrocephalus schoenobaenus) who was perched just like the reed bunting and singing up a storm!

And, if you guessed it’s probably an “Old World warbler“, you are correct! It is not even in the same family as “New World warblers.” Sheesh! I hope this stuff isn’t on the final exam!

Okay. Last one. I believe this is a common gull or sea mew (Larus canus) that was perched on the same roof ridge as the much-more-easily-identified black-headed gull from earlier in the week.

Well, that’s the roundup for now. I’ve gotta go to Delft tomorrow anyway, so maybe I’ll get out to the countryside early again and see what’s new to see. I’ll keep you posted.

I’m starting to get quite a backlog of little birds that I still need to identify, but in the meantime, it was a beautiful morning to ride across the Dutch countryside, and I caught some interesting scenes of birds we’ve already seen.

First, I finally found a mute swan with cygnets, and these ones sure don’t look like “ugly ducklings.”

Here’s a grey heron with a crayfish it just snagged out of a little canal.

And here’s another grey heron that just snagged a duckling.

Just as I was thinking to myself “hmmm. I haven’t seen any wild mammals yet,” a pair of hares reminded me that I have been seeing some European hares (Lepus europaeus), and here’s one of them. They look a little lankier than the eastern cottontails we’ve seen in Estabrook.

Finally, here are a pair of white-bellied barn swallows pausing for a second after foraging over a canal and before swooping up under a little bridge to feed there chicks. By comparison, the ones I’ve seen nesting under the Port Washington Road bridge and foraging over the Milwaukee River in Estabrook Park have a distinctly “off-white” or “tawny” bellies.

You can just make out a beak full of bugs on the one below.

I read, in the usual spot, that “the barn swallow (Hirundo rustica) is the most widespread species of swallow in the world. In fact, it appears to have the largest natural distribution of any of the world’s passerine, ranging over 251 million square kilometres globally.”

Further, “in Anglophone Europe it is just called the swallow; in northern Europe it is the only common species called a “swallow” rather than a “martin“.”

I’ve had to work this week, if you can believe it, and so I haven’t gotten to go looking for wildlife. On the commute, however, from Rotterdam, where my boss and his wife are graciously putting me up until I can find my own place, to Delft, where we work, I was seeing some amazing creatures. Therefore, on Wednesday, when my boss was going to work from home for a bit in the morning, I set out on my own and brought my camera along with.

Just about as soon as I got out of Rotterdam and into the countryside, I spotted this Eurasian oystercatcher (Haematopus ostralegus) hunting for tidbits in a newly mown field. It is about the size of a big crow, but with a bright red beak at least twice as long, and I don’t think it’s gonna find any oysters there.

Soon after the oystercatcher, this Northern lapwing (Vanellus vanellus) caught my eye in another mown field. I read that they are in the same family as the killdeer in Estabrook, and I only looked that up because their beaks are so similar.

Finally, just around the corner from the lapwing was this godwit (Limosa) hiding in the tall grass, but I can’t tell if it is a bar-tailed or black-tailed godwit. Maybe next time it will forage in a mown field and let us get a better look.

Those are the pictures from Wednesday, and today I went out even earlier to see if I could find something new. This is what I’ve got to show for it.

First is this handsome black-headed gull (Chroicocephalus ridibundus) perched on a rooftop.

Next is a pair of common shelducks (Tadorna tadorna) who are dabblers, like mallards, and they kept their bodies on the surface, but they held their heads under water a long time, like diving ducks.

Finally, I will thrilled to spot this ring-necked pheasant (Phasianus colchicus) hiding on the other side of a thicket and glowing in the early morning light.

I read on the Pedia of Wik that “It is native to Asia and parts of Europe like the northern foothills of the Caucasus and the Balkans. It has been widely introduced elsewhere as a game bird. In parts of its range, namely in places where none of its relatives occur such as in Europe, where it is naturalized, it is simply known as the “pheasant“. Ring-necked pheasant is both the name used for the species as a whole in North America and also the collective name for a number of subspecies and their intergrades that have white neck rings.”

I also saw a few little birds, but I have yet to identify them, so they will just have to wait for the next report.

It rained on and off all morning, so I didn’t get out until the afternoon, and then I just went to the canal behind my friends’ apartment, called “boerengat” on google maps, instead of going to the plas.

The first new bird for today is a common wood-pigeon (Columba palumbus), which looks a lot like a rock pigeon, the variety that you might see on the streets of most cities, but noticeably larger and with a distinctive white patch on the side of its neck.

The second new bird is a Eurasian magpie or common magpie (Pica pica), which I read “is one of the most intelligent birds, and it is believed to be one of the most intelligent of all non-human animals. It is the only bird known to pass the mirror test, along with very few other non-avian species.” How fun is that?

The third new bird, in the water this time, is a great cormorant (Phalacrocorax carbo), who sure looks like the double-crested cormorants we’ve seen in Estabrook Park but can’t be because I’m now a few thousand miles out of their range.

There was also a grey heron along the canal, which we’ve seen at the plas, …

And this Egyptian goose, who was kind enough, or tired enough, to let us get a better look at those pretty feathers it sports.

Lastly, there was another family of great crested grebes with one chick.

That’s it for today, and I don’t know if I’ll have any pictures for you tomorrow because I’m going to campus early in hopes of getting some logistics sorted out. Wish me luck!

The jet lag has been mercifully mild so far this trip, and I even managed to stay up late with my gracious hosts last evening, so I didn’t make it to Kralingse Plas this morning until about 11. Happily, the birds appear to have waited up for me, because they were even more plentiful than yesterday.

On my walk north towards the plas, I finally got a glimpse of this cute little singer with a curious song I’d been hearing, a common chiffchaff (Phylloscopus collybita).

At the plas, I got a presentable image this time of the tufted duck hen (Aythya fuligula) and her bright-eyed drake (on the left).

Closer to shore, this mallard hen was dabbling with her one duckling.

Just beyond the mallards a big tree branch reached down into the water, and both coots and grebes were using it to anchor their floating nests.

Here’s the grebe repositioning herself on her one egg.

As her drake floated nearby

Meanwhile, not 3 feet away, a coot chick rests on its nest as a parent stands nearby. You can just make out the blurry grebe in the background on the far right.

Here’s a better look at the incubating great crested grebe.

And of the coot chick.

Farther out on the water, here’s another grebe with two chicks well beyond their egg stage.

And here’s a coot feeding a chick grown up enough to lose all its crazy red “hair”.

Just across the way, a pair of grey herons (Ardea cinerea) were resting, and here’s the better posed one.

Lastly, here’s the image of a mute swan (Cygnus olor) that I promised you.

Finally, Lou Miller, who has enjoyed some birdwatching on this side of the world recently, wrote in to say that the bird I showed you yesterday, which I thought might be a raven, instead “looks like a carrion crow (Corvus corone), [which are] quite abundant in Europe. Compared to a raven their bill is smaller and they don’t have as rough of neck feathers.” Thanks, Lou!

Oh, before I forget, it turns out that stinging nettles are quite common here, and I really should be wearing long pants to do this. Good thing I packed some, and I only wish Lou had warned me!

I made it to Holland in one piece, and after I arrived at my bosses place, I was able to reassemble my bicycle back into one piece, too. We even went out for a test ride yesterday afternoon, and there were so many birds on the water, that I could hardly wait to get out with my camera this morning. We’re in Rotterdam, home of the largest harbor in Europe, and there’s a nice little lake, called Kralingse Plas, a short walk from the apartment, so that’s where I went.

The first bird I came across was a Eurasian coot (Fulica atra), and they bear a striking resemblance to our American coots, but without the black ring near the end of their beak.

Here’s a hen with what must be one of the most unusual-looking chicks I have ever seen. I read that the bright colors are intended to help parents “work out which ones are the youngest and the most likely to need their help.”

Here are a pair of great crested grebes (Podiceps cristatus) showing a little PDA, but I didn’t get to see the whole dance yet.

Here’s a duck that looks for all the world like a mallard hen, but with a white patch low on her neck, and I have no further information at this time.

Here’s a healthy-looking gaggle of graylag geese (Anser anser) that appears to comprise two adults (foreground and background) and thirteen goslings. They seem to be about as plentiful as Canada geese in Estabrook, or even more so.

Here’s an Egyptian goose (Alopochen aegyptiaca) with one gosling.

Not all the birds were waterfowl, of course, and here’s a great spotted woodpecker (Dendrocopos major) hard at work.

Here’s a female Eurasian blackbird (Turdus merula) who looks a lot like a sooty American robin, and her mate sings just like them. John Gurda would be so happy.

The most common bird on the ground this morning, however, was the Eurasian jackdaw (Corvus monedula), who looks like a slightly-smaller and slightly-more-colorful crow.

Finally, there doesn’t appear to be an equivalent to the plain-black American crow, so my best guess is that this is a common raven (Corvus corax) instead.

There were plenty of other birds, too, including swans, tufted ducks, herons, and even parrots, but I’d better pace myself.

Later today, while my gracious hosts, Jason and Umi, ride up to Delft for errands, I’m gonna try to open a bank account. Wish me luck!

Today is the day I ship out for Delft, so I won’t make it to Estabrook Park this morning. Sorry.

Packing for a year away while being too cheap to pay for extra baggage has been an adventure. I hemmed and hawed about bringing one of my own bikes because the last time I was there, they were pretty pricy, and that was before the whole recent, pandemic-induced, supply-chain fiasco. KLM wants $150 to ship a bike, however, and if I figure both ways, because why would I leave a bike behind that was good enough to ride for a year, that would make a $300 budget for me to buy something used there. That’s maybe enough, but hard to tell for sure.

Then Anne made a great suggestion, as she often does. “Why don’t you bring one of those fancy folding bikes you bought, and we’ve only used once or twice?” When she’s right, she’s right, which is pretty much all the time.

So here it is in the biggest roller bag I could find at Goodwill yesterday afternoon and carefully padded by all my clothing. Some extra disassembly was required. I measure the bag to be 12x17x25 inches on the outside, which isn’t all that big, but I ain’t paying no stinking “bike fee”! (I hope.)

Anyway, the weight limits are a whole other issue. With my checked bag full of aluminum and steel, so that it bumped right up against the 50.5 lb (23 kg) limit, I had to put all my camera gear and my laptop into my carry-on bag, which has a 26 lb (12 kg) limit. All that glass ain’t light!

If you see a guy this morning at the KLM check-in counter stuffing his pockets full of toiletries, chargers, tools, and a surprisingly-dense Berlitz book on Dutch, that’ll be me trying to compensate for my bathroom scale being a little off on the low side.