The forecast last evening was for the rain to start at 7am, so I got up early in the hopes of staying dry for a lap, and boy, did it pay off. I might have to try that more often, but not every day. It’s pretty dark before sunrise on a cloudy day, and my camera struggled, even with the new monopod. In fact, I didn’t even try at the pond. The wood duck hen and her six ducklings plus the American black duck hen were all foraging already, and I just let them be.

As I approached the river, I could hear the little incessant chirping that I’ve come to associate with baby chicks in a nesting hole, and as I scanned the dead trunk were we saw the wren a few weeks ago, I almost missed this little guy or gal on the branch about a foot below the hole with a delicious looking morsel.

I’m not sure what the wait was for, maybe to let breakfast stop wriggling, but soon enough, into somebody’s crop it went. Yum!

With that out of the way, I continued to the river, and completely failed to sneak up on the great blue heron fishing just off shore. As I watched it go, I managed also to spook the green heron nearby. Doh! Come on, man. Focus!

Well, I brushed off those setbacks, but my game face back on, and checked in the the beaver.

Sure enough, it was breakfast time for them, too, and I’m pretty sure there were three of them about again. Here’s two.

Just north of there, I spotted this mourning dove, who didn’t appear to be having breakfast at the time, but who could refuse this sweet pose? I did not realize that they have such pretty blue eyeliner, and I read that they “eat roughly 12 to 20 percent of their body weight per day.” Further, they swallow seeds and store them in their crop, and “once they’ve filled it (the record is 17,200 bluegrass seeds in a single crop!), they can fly to a safe perch to digest the meal.” So, either you’ve got a full crop, or you’d better get busy, sweetie.

North of the falls, I came across this character just daring me to take its picture.

At the north end at last, our regular trio of mallard ducklings were busy working the rocks, under Mom’s watchful care, and one little enterprising duckling managed to catch itself a crayfish. They seem to be popular these days, and this one put up a struggle, but the duckling prevailed in the end. Yay!

On my way back south, I spotted one critter helping to pick up the mulberries from the boardwalk below the beer garden. Thanks, Buddy!

This oriole looked to be trying to cut out the middleman and go right to the source. From the looks of the feathers on its face, it’s been going right to the source a lot lately.

South of there, near where I flushed the herons, a wood duck hen with a single duckling had just caught something, maybe a tadpole, and the duckling hadn’t quite managed to choke it down yet. Good luck, Kiddo!

Finally, I interrupted the grazing of this sweetheart, and it moseyed into the woods behind it to breakfast without interruption. Sorry!

That’s the breakfast roundup for today, and it still hadn’t rained. Ha!

I went to bed last night expecting to sleep in this morning during the rain, but the rain didn’t come, and so off to the park I went. I spotted one deer, who just wasn’t in the mood, and so continued on straight to the pond.

All the ducks, the wood duck hen and her six ducklings plus the American black duck hen, were on the lawn when I arrived. Unfortunately, it was still pretty dark, and they were all spread out and moving around anyway, so you get a picture of this red-winged blackbird posing on the “Please don’t feed the ducks or geese” sign instead.

The river, I am happy to report, was a different story. The beaver were out again, and this time I can assert that I saw at least three distinct animals, but I couldn’t detect if any were noticeably smaller than any others.

I read about the beaver home life that they “usually mate for life, forming familial colonies. Beaver “kits” are born precocious and with a developed coat. The young beaver “kits” typically remain with their parents up to two years.“

If hunches were bunches, then “individual 1” is actually Mom, with a tendency to project the tip of her tail out of the water and slightly lighter color than Dad, whom we saw yesterday, who was absent this morning, and whom I’ve never seen project the tip of his tail out of the water. And “individuals 2 & 3” are the youngsters, with visibly more-matted fur than “individual 1”.

Here’s a shot of that tail tip sticking out of the water, which I have not yet seen before.

I guess we’ll just have to wait and see how the mystery of who is who unfolds.

At the falls, I spotted this catbird hunting around on the ground and was surprised by its willingness to let me get so close, which made me think that maybe it was a youngster whose flying was not yet so good. In the viewfinder, however, I could see that it was collecting nesting material, not food, and it eventually flew across the river just fine. I read that catbirds have “2 broods per year,” and that nests are “built mostly by [the] female.” Good luck, sweetie!

As I approached the north end, I finally spotted one of these striking little white-spotted sable moths (Anania funebris) who didn’t quite manage to hide itself under a leaf for a change.

While I was there, I spotted a handsome blossom I don’t believe I seen before, and it appears to be (with 79.01% confidence) marsh hedgenettle or marsh woundwort (Stachys palustris). The Pedia of Wik reports that “it is used to promote the healing of wounds,” and it adds, helpfully, that “wort is a middle English word for a herb or vegetable.” Good to know!

When I finally reached the water, I could only find one set of ducklings, but there’s a lot of water to check, so chances are that the others were about somewhere.

On my way back south, I spotted this ginormous bull frog chillin’ just off shore. It’s hard to tell for sure, because I didn’t have a ruler with me, but I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that it’s six inches long, which I read is really possible “in snout–to–vent length.” This is the sort of individual I would believe is capable of consuming ” rodents, small lizards and snakes, other frogs and toads, amphibians, crayfish, small birds, scorpions, tarantulas and bats.”

Hardly much bigger than the frog, but not for long, was this little cutie beside the walking path.

Finally, some new equipment arrived in the mail yesterday, namely a monopod and related accoutrements, that I was anxious to try out, and which I have a hope will help me improve image quality, so here are a couple of sightings from yesterday afternoon.

First up, is a monarch butterfly, whom I’ve seen less of this season than I’d like, and who sure took his sweet time finding just the right milkweed blossom to pose upon.

Ah, but pose he did!

Lastly, this little red-eyed vireo was much bolder and lower to the ground than usual, and made me wonder if it was a recent fledgling, a matter on which the Cornell Lab of Ornithology appears to be silent.

In any case, the monopod seems to work, so watch this space!

After a couple of days of deer chasing herons, geese chasing deer, and herons chasing geese, everyone seemed relaxed this morning, and I have no drama to report. Phew.

Just as I entered the park, I scanned the horizon in hopes of spotting some deer at the tree line or even cavorting on the soccer fields, as we often did last summer, and look who I saw just peeking over the edge.

I strolled on over, she didn’t budge, I took this picture and left her there peacefully chewing her cud.

Now that’s a nice way to start the morning.

At the pond, the wood ducks were busy foraging as the light slowly came up. There are still six ducklings, but you know how they like to spread out, so this is the best framing I could come up with.

Long-time reader and trained-birder, Donna, has confirmed my guess that the other hen on the pond recently is actually an American black duck, not a mallard, as I had mistakenly assumed initially, and this morning she caught herself a crayfish for breakfast. Mmm, tasty!

That reminds me of the time last summer when the wood duck hen on the pond with one duckling caught and ate a frog before my very eyes. They’re flexitarians, I guess.

At the river, I spotted the beaver again, but only one this time. There were some ripples under a log, but the second one declined to show itself today. With these shy critters, who are supposed to be “active mainly at night“, we’ll have to take what we can get.

The falls were devoid of action, with no geese nor herons, so I continued on to the north end, where I found what appear to be, from the size of them, a brand new batch of ducklings for what might be their maiden voyage.

The first thing Mom wanted, after being hunkered down on her nest for the last 27 or 28 days, was a good stretch.

Here she is pausing from her well-deserved preening to keep tabs on me.

Then, finally, it’s off to the buffet for the little ones. Fill those little crops!

And still, Mom keeps an eye on me.

There are also plenty of geese on the river, too, but I heard nary a honk out of them today.

On my walk home, this little character put on an amazing aerobatic display chasing some bug just over the grass for a dozen yards before returning to this branch. I’m going with blue-gray gnatcatcher (Polioptila caerulea), maybe a female or nonbreeding male, whom we haven’t seen in weeks but are still around, apparently.

Finally, the Canada thistle, growing along the edge of the soccer fields, is coming in, and this little Peck’s skipper (Polites peckius) is one of the first I’ve seen take advantage.

It was cool, cloudy, and very breezy this morning in Estabrook, so I didn’t really expect to see much. By the time I got to the pond, Mom had already taken off to run her errands, and the ducklings are just chillin’ by themselves.

As I continued around the pond in pursuit of a green heron, who eluded me, I walked right past this sweetheart minding her own business and quietly munch on the bushes.

Even the rabbit, who witnessed the whole thing says, “Come on, man. Open your eyes!”

I finally gave up on the heron and headed down to the river, and look who I spotted at the falls, for the first time this year that I can recall.

It seemed pretty comfortable with me on the opposite shore, so I settled in with the hope of getting a nice shot if and when it caught a fish.

As I’m staring through the viewfinder, however, suddenly there’s a commotion in the foreground.

I honestly don’t know if they were trying to get up the falls or floated too close to the top and got caught in the current, but there was a slew of them.

About half managed to make it into the calm water above the falls.

And the other half were stuck below the falls.

So the adult tried to take the back way around, but the heron said “no”. What goes around, comes around, eh?

Eventually, the heron went back to fishing, and the geese were able to tiptoe up the path behind it.

Soon, there was a jubilant reunion, and they all lived happily ever after.

I left the heron to fish in piece and continued on to the north end, where I found our three mallard ducklings from the drama yesterday, still contentedly foraging with their real mom.

As I waited for them to assemble into the perfect group pose, I noticed a belted kingfisher, whom we haven’t seen much of lately, on a low branch over the river.

Sure enough, in she went.

And came up with this little morsel.

By then, three of the mallards got with the program, and I just cropped out the laggard.

Back at the pond, the mallard hen who’s been there a for a few days now, was ready for her portrait. At least I think she’s a mallard, but she sure looks darker than her counterpart on the river, immediately above, and maybe she’s an American black duck. Boy, it’s hard to tell them apart.

And the wood duck mom was back from her little excursion.

Lastly, the mulberries are starting to drop, and the robins are doing their part to keep the park looking neat.

As promised, this morning was nice and dry, and the sun peeked through the thin cloud cover, so I was able to get a nice and early start in the park. I stopped by the pond first, and I glimpsed the wood ducks, but they were foraging under some bushes that overhang the water, and the light was still low, so I let them be and headed for the river.

The fish seemed to have quieted back down, so this morning, ripples meant somebody else was about.

Yup, the beaver were up, and there were at least two of them.

The first one stayed in the vicinity and just kept slowly drifting on the surface. The second stayed a bit more under cover of some logs and branches.

I kept hoping they’d bring out some kits that I could show you, and I heard a few little noises, but today was not the day for that. Instead, all I’ve got is this picture of the first one stretched out so you can even see its tail.

After a full 20 minutes (no kidding, from 6:09 to 6:30), I figured we weren’t going to see kits today, and left them to continue north.

Just above the falls, I was greeted by a spectacle of another sort, the biggest gaggle of goslings I’ve seen so far. As I got closer, they all hiked up on shore and commenced with the preening.

As I approached the north end, I was thrilled to spot a great blue heron fishing between the two islands.

As I carefully approached for a better shot, I spotted a second one just off the northern tip of the southern island.

Best of all, the upstream one started wading south, so I had a hope of capturing an image of the two of them together, like this but better.

As I was scheming about how I would get both of them in focus at the same time, look who the heck wandered into the shot.

You have got to be kidding me right now!

Well, the two herons were also less than thrilled with this turn of events, and took off for some less-crowded waters, and I was left with our river deer, who must have felt a hankerin’ for some fresh seaweed this morning. I hear it’s nutritious.

Here she is finally noticing me standing on shore.

Here she is either expressing her opinion about my presence or savoring that last mouthful.

Here she is trudging past some geese on her way to the far shore.

Here she is encountering a goose doing its best Gandalf impersonation.

Here she is wisely altering her course.

And here she is finally past the last of the geese.

After all that excitement, I continued on my way and soon came across this little family of mallards.

Across the way I could see the family with nearly grownup ducklings all dabbling together.

Nearly underfoot, but not quite, thank goodness, this little guy, perhaps a young toad, could sit on the nail of my little finger.

Back out on the water, I spotted a third group of ducklings who oddly appeared to be on their own.

And then a hen spotted them and headed over, but something seemed off.

The ducklings swam away from her.

And a second hen swam over, and the two hens quickly got into a shoving match.

They did not appear to be fooling around, and I’ve never seen anything like this.

Eventually the would-be interloper gave way, and our hero gave a brief chase, for good measure.

The ducklings sure knew who was who and quickly rallied around Mom.

And they all lived happily ever after.

I think we can all agree, that’s enough river action for one morning, so I headed back towards the pond. On my way, I spotted this little cutie who appears to have its cheeks full.

As I tried to inch up the trail a bit for a slightly better angle, a red squirrel behind me took great exception. It turns out that there were two of them, and they tussled about, so it’s not always about me, I guess.

Even though the fish have quieted back down, there are still big fish in the water, and as I tried to see if I could ID one, it made this little guy leap up onto a lily pad. Why sure, I’ll take your picture, little buddy.

Well, I finally made it to the pond, and the ducks just weren’t in the mood today, including the solo mallard hen, but this young robin was.

A green heron also flew in to pose for us above the island.

And as I was trying to get a better angle on the heron, a bunch of grackles were not about to let me hide in the bushes unnoticed. So I grabbed a picture of one of them, too.

So that’s a dozen species for the morning, and I think that’s enough for now, don’t you?

I got rained out again this morning, but I can’t really complain, because we sure needed the rain. Instead, I took a quick swing through the southern part later this morning, when the sun was high and most critters were going on siesta, but still managed to spot a couple of anyway.

This first one, we saw last summer, but this is the first one I’ve managed to capture this season. I believe it’s one of the pretty little spring azures (Celastrina ladon), and there are a few to choose from.

Meanwhile, the goldfinch have found the bull thistle blossoms and are just ripping apart the ones that have gone by.

Lastly, here’s a female common whitetail (Plathemis lydia) searching for the male we saw at the north end yesterday, but will they ever meet?

There is currently a less-than-10% chance of rain forecast for tomorrow, so hopefully we’ll be able to go back to our regularly scheduled program.

Might as well get this out of the way first: I saw no otters today, and I’m as disappointed about that as I’m sure you are. Oh well, and here’s hoping they come back someday, but if not, we’ll always have yesterday. The closest I got to an otter today is this little cutie pie, not even six inches long yet.

I waited out the morning rain (yay!) and the dim light so didn’t get to the park until after breakfast. When I finally did, I was immediately greeted by this happy sight, an American goldfinch who apparently just can’t wait any more for the Canada thistle blossoms to open. He was really tearing those buds to shreds.

I saw the bunny along the now-closed parkway (yay!) on my way to the pond, which looked wonderfully refreshed by the rain, and where the wood ducks were already enjoying their first break of the day. Mom was doing her stretches, and the six ducklings were intermittently preening and just lounging in the sum.

Then a dog walked by, and mom just bolted. Seriously, she leapt into the air and flew away, but the ducklings seemed not very put out by it, and the two on the right simply moved down the log to join the other four. In short order they all went back to lounging in the sun.

Eventually, the mallard hen, who only showed up on the pond two days ago, swam over, and I half hoped I’d get to see some amazing interspecies tender moment, or something, but no. She just wanted the best spot on that sunny log, and the ducklings quickly got out of her way.

Now, before we all judge her to be some kind of grumpy old meanie, remember that we have no idea what kind of spring she’s had, right? Maybe she just needs that spot more than the youngsters do.

On to the river, where you’ll never believe who I saw.

Sure enough, a solo wood duck hen. Maybe it’s Mom from the pond, and she really just needed a break after riding out the overnight thunderstorm with six young ones under her wings.

Further north, mallard ducklings continue to abound, and here are two batches.

One sight I haven’t seen for a while, on the river or otherwise, is a couple of wood duck drakes. The drakes were accompanied by yet another hen and still looking sharp, but not quite as sharp as a few weeks ago.

Almost all the sandbars that have been exposed recently are back under water, and I don’t know where the sandpipers are gonna find any sand to pipe these days. I sure hope that killdeer from yesterday wasn’t messing around with any eggs on that little bit of now-submerged soil.

In the remains of the meadow at the far north end, a male common whitetail dragonfly (Plathemis lydia), finally agreed to sit still for a few seconds.

Finally, back at the weeds along the edge of the soccer fields at the south end, a pearl northern crescent, possibly the one from yesterday, was willing to let me capture an image of the underside of its wings.

Quite a difference, eh?

Lastly, just for symmetry, a pretty pair of goldfinches were mining the nearby burdock seeds from last year.

I’m too excited to bury the lede today, so let’s get right to it. I spotted a pair of North American River Otters (Lontra canadensis) in the river this morning who appeared to be hunting goslings, and this is the best picture I managed to capture.

It sure has the rounded nose and prominent whiskers of an otter, instead of the pointy nose of a mink, and they swam low with just their heads above water, instead of exposing most of their backs, as mink and muskrats do.

I was walking north along the river above the falls, and I spotted a goose with four goslings also heading north. I think we’ve seen them before.

As I tried to get their picture, I spotted a couple of dark shapes in the water behind them, and my first thought was beaver.

The critters continued the chase for a bit, but when the geese got into the open and shallow area between the islands, the pursuers appear to abandon their effort and headed back south. That’s when they came right by me.

Holy Moly! Right? Plus, this was on top of an already stellar morning.

I had already seen two deer along the now-carless road on my walk to the pond.

There was a wood duck hen with a pair of ducklings on the river.

And a red squirrel took the time to say hi.

As I stood on the river bank after seeing the otters trying to collect my thoughts, our river deer also came out to say hi.

At least two batches of mallard ducklings were rustling up their breakfast with their moms.

And this killdeer was up to something that I couldn’t decode. He or she seemed to hunker down in two different locations in between bouts of just standing there and shouting at me. Maybe it’s trying to nest there, but a low sandbar in a river, only exposed because of drought conditions, is a pretty risky operation. Wouldn’t you agree?

On my walk back to the pond, I spotted this gorgeous creature, who appears to be a pearl northern crescent (Phyciodes tharos cocyta), in the grass north of the beer garden.

At the pond, the wood duck hen and her ducklings, of which six of the original nine remain, (not all captured below) were between naps.

And the mallard hen was still there.

Finally, another little wood-satyr (Megisto cymela) gave me a chance to make sure I had the best picture I could.

If all that weren’t enough, yesterday afternoon was so nice I headed out in hopes of spotting a tiger swallowtail, and look who I saw instead. A doe and her fawn on the river just north of the Capitol Drive bridge. They seemed to be cool with me, but when a noisy group went by on the river trail, that was too much, and off they went. Oh well. Next time will be better.

Okay, okay, just one more picture. I finally spotted a monarch caterpillar on some milkweed, of course.

I’ve got a quick one for you today, more of a status update than a full report. The weather continues to be beautiful, of course, unless the lack of rain is starting to crimp your style.

I stopped by the pond, and the first critter I saw was the resident and rarely seen, giant snapping turtle, perhaps related to our much smaller buddy that keeps climbing out of the river. Maybe they’re trying to have a reunion now that travel restrictions are starting to lift.

I looked for the wood ducks, but only found a mallard hen, whom we haven’t seen in there weeks.

At the river, whatever type of big fish was thrashing yesterday was still thrashing this morning, but I didn’t see anything photo-worthy until the north end where the mallard hen with 4 young ducklings was dabbling in a beautiful golden-green reflection of the morning sun shining on the trees on the island.

Back at the pond, I found that the wood duck hen and her ducklings had magically materialized. Here they are all snoozing on their favorite log.

And here they are after a dog walked by. I didn’t hear her, so perhaps she was just yawning.

I suspect a few of the red-wing blackbird broods have hatched because suddenly the males and females are even more crazy protective of their territory than usual, and as I was trying in vain to get a fun picture of them shouting at me, look was wasn’t paying attention and ended up with a cameo. I bet he was as surprised as I was, and I had about a second to get this picture before he realized his mistake and vanished. It is slightly over exposed, which I tried to fix a little in post-production, but at least it’s in focus.

Lastly, on the avian side, a red-bellied woodpecker, perhaps the same one as last summer, is back to rat-a-tat-tatting on the street lights and yodeling from the top of the light poles.

On to the Lepidoptera. One of the sulfur butterflies sat for a nice, back-lit portrait, but it’s a little difficult to tell which sulfur because of said lighting.

And last, but certainly not least, the little wood-satyrs (Megisto cymela) are back and plentiful!

Finally, let’s wrap it up with this sharp-looking little chipmunk, shall we?

Our string of beautiful days continued this morning, and things are definitely drying out, but the only thing really turning brown so far is the mowed lawn. Plus, the bright blue skies sure makes the pictures pretty, so I’ll take ’em, especially since I can’t really change ’em.

The only activity I saw on the pond this morning is our wood duck hen and her ducklings. Here they are preening themselves in the early morning light.

Here they are hiding under Mom’s apron when I got a little closer. I don’t know how many she has under there, and I don’t think it likely that there are nine, I am sad to say, but I haven’t gotten a good count lately.

Down on the river, the new activity for today is from some large fish thrashing and splashing on the lower river in the shallow water and near sticks and logs. Maybe it’s carp spawning again. Any fisher folk care to weigh in?

It was a little disconcerting because it’s usually so quiet there, and I’ve been conditioned to associate ripples in the water with muskrats or beaver, but not today.

Perhaps this green heron was as perplexed as I was, but it’s hard to tell for sure from the expression on its face.

Above the falls, our doe, who is now a west-sider I guess, was out grazing in those greener pastures. She’ll always be welcome back on the east side, right?

At the north end, at least two of the mallard broods are still about.

The males are starting to look a little ratty as they start to ditch their spring mating finery.

I didn’t see any goslings, but plenty of geese are stocking up.

I also spotted a new blossom for the season, St. Johnswort, possibly common (Hypericum perforatum) or spotted (Hypericum maculatum), both of which have long been used for medicinal purposes.

On my way back south, I spotted this handsome character on the jewelweed that grows thick on both sides of the trail, and The BugLady leads me to believe that it is a golden-backed Snipe fly (Chrysopilus thoracicus). I can’t wait for that jewelweed to blossom.

On my second time past the falls, I caught a glimpse of this fabulous sight, a spotted sandpiper foraging along the crest of the waterfall and affording me the opportunity to combine a portrait with an art-shot. Tada!

At the top of the stairway, above the falls, the chicory blossoms appear to be fully open and looking resplendent.

I didn’t see our snapping turtle this morning, and maybe it finally found a way to where it wanted to go, but I did spot this aptly-named dog vomit slime mold (Fuligo septica) in the middle of the path that somebody seems to have disturbed, which only serves to enhance its appearance, wouldn’t you say?

Finally, at the south end, the uncut weeds at the edge of the soccer fields continue to attract all kinds of little critters.

This first one appears to be a northern broken-dash skipper (Wallengrenia egeremet), which I don’t believe we’ve seen before.

Next, we have a female widow skimmer (Libellula luctuosa), which we did see last summer.

A cabbage white gave me one more opportunity to perfect its portrait, this time sipping from what appears to be yellow avens (Geum aleppicum).

Lastly, the bull thistle is now fully open and feeding our ol’ buddy from last summer, the amazing bicolored striped-sweat bee (Agapostemon virescens), the official bee of Toronto.