Gotta be quick because it’s late and we’re getting up early, but here are just a couple of the amazing sights we saw today at the Craters of the Moon National Monument and Preserve in south central Idaho.

Besides the cinder cones, splatter cones, and huge lava fields, there were plenty of birds, blossoms, and butterflies.

Here’s a stunning violet-green swallow (Tachycineta thalassina) resting near its nesting sight at the edge of a lave cave.

And here’s a rock wren (Salpinctes obsoletus) on a lichen covered clump of lava.

Here’s one of several yellow-pine chipmunks (Neotamias amoenus) we saw on the lava.

Here’s some dwarf monkeyflower (Diplacus nanus) growing right out of the volcanic ash.

Finally, here’s a silver-bordered fritillary (Boloria selene) on a dwarf buckwheat (Eriogonum ovalifolium var. depressum) blossom. The butterflies were plentiful and seemed attracted to Anne’s white shirt. Most realized she was not the flower they were looking for before they landed, but not all.

I’ve gotta hit the sack now, but if you ever have the opportunity to visit this place, I hope you jump at the chance.

We hit a different trail today for another stellar day in Glacier National Park. This time, we ascended Snyder Lake Trail and found many fewer fellow hikers. We didn’t reach Snyder Lake, so didn’t see any water birds, but there were open areas from the Sprague Fire in 2017, which attracts different critters than the deep forest did along the Avalanche trail of yesterday.

Before we even got to the trail, though, I found this little cutie serenading us at the visitors’ center. He’s an Audubon’s warbler (Setophaga auduboni), the “western counterpart” of the myrtle warbler (Setophaga coronata coronata), which I’ve identified in Estabrook as a yellow-rumped warbler (Setophaga coronata), but which actually “combines four closely related forms.” Ach du lieber! Right?

Once we finally got going on the trial, the first amazing sight we came upon is this dazzling fairy slipper orchid (Calypso bulbosa), distant cousin of the pink lady’s slipper that my grandmother used to show me in the woods by her house.

Another difference from yesterday’s hike was the prevalence of mule deer (Odocoileus hemionus) They were everywhere, bucks and does, and not intimidated by us hikers in the least.

As we approached our turn-around-point, the trees were sparse and several small streams crossed the path, which brought the butterflies out like crazy.

Here’s a mourning cloak (Nymphalis antiopa), just like the ones we’ve seen in Estabrook.

This next one looks to be a hoary comma (Polygonia gracilis), but if you look here, you’ll see that there a slew of look-a-likes, so I could easily be mistaken.

Here’s one of the “blues“, maybe a northern azure (Celastrina lucia)

Even moths joined in the fray, and here’s an eight-spotted forester (Alypia octomaculata) sporting bright orange leggings.

A flower that also liked the water and sunlight is this note-quite-yet-opened rough-fruited fairybells (Prosartes trachycarpa)

On our way back, we really started finding the birds, and here’s a Steller’s Jay (Cyanocitta stelleri) that led me on a wild goose chase before finally finding the perfect perch.

There were a few western tanagers (Piranga ludoviciana) making quite a racket, but only this one showed itself.

The easiest one to find, because he nearly buzzed us on the way to the trunk of a nearby tree, is this handsome black-backed woodpecker (Picoides arcticus) in his tiny bright-yellow cap, not the not the American three-toed woodpecker (Picoides dorsalis) that I originally thought he was and whom I spotted a few days later in Yellowstone.

He’s also quite a successful hunter, at least today, and I watched him dig out two of these tasty-looking morsels before I left to catch back up to Anne.

It is postulated that “with only three toes, these species may be able to lean farther away from the tree and thereby hit the tree harder than other woodpeckers, all of which have four toes.”

Finally, in the parking lot, this tree swallow (Tachycineta bicolor), whom we’ve already seen from afar in Estabrook, was nesting in a post nearly at eye level. The second I blinked, it shot out of the hole like a rocket.

And there was another hoary comma (Polygonia gracilis) in the shrubbery at the Lake McDonald Lodge willing to show off both sides of its wings.

Can’t judge that book by its cover, eh? Well, tomorrow is a travel day, so probably no new post until Tuesday. See you then.

Gotta make this quick ’cause the wifi is sketchy here, but after a 29-hour Amtrak® train ride, we arrived at Glacier National Park yesterday and hiked to Avalanche Lake today. It was a pretty short hike, just 5 easy miles roundtrip, but boy-oh-boy, what a hike it was. Right off the bat, a barred owl (Strix varia) flew in, saw all us hikers, realized it’s Memorial Day weekend, cursed under it’s breath, and took right back off again. Outstanding start!

A bit further up the trail, we came across this plump-looking least chipmunk (Neotamias minimus).

Just above the chipmunk, this diminutive pacific wren (Troglodytes pacificus) was singing his brains out from a perfect perch.

At the lake, I thought I saw another chipmunk, but it turns out to have been a golden-mantled ground squirrel (Callospermophilus lateralis) with the stripes of a chipmunk, but bigger, and with the steely gaze of a squirrel.

On the water was a pair of common mergansers (Mergus merganser), whom we haven’t seen in Estabrook in weeks.

On the far shore was a mule deer (Odocoileus hemionus). We’ve seen them everywhere, even from the train, but this was the first time I had my camera handy.

There were also a bunch of common goldeneyes (Bucephala clangula) fishing and flying about.

Finally, for you trillium fans, here’s one of the few Pacific trilliums (Trillium ovatum) we saw.

Oh, the scenery was pretty spectacular, too, if you’re into that kind of thing.

Thanks for coming along for the ride, and check out all the old friends who stopped by in Estabrook this morning to say hi. The parkway is still closed off between the middle and southern parking lot, and that tranquility is still glorious, so enjoy it while it lasts!

Our first guest in a very shy cooper’s hawk who sat for this image none-the-less in one of the little trees by the middle parking lot, and we appreciate it!

At the pond, a muskrat, whom we haven’t seen there since last summer and haven’t seen at all in weeks, took a swim between the algal mats. Let’s see the beavers do that, eh?

At the river, this little chipmunk must have been too busy munching to worry about me.

On my way to the north end, I walked past that tree in which we saw only tail feathers at the start of May, and look who was there today! Mr. and Mrs. Downy Woodpecker were busy taking turns stuffing it full of grub. It was a much quieter operation than what the Hairys’ run.

At the north end, the fish were at it again, and two pretty reliable readers pointed out that they are probably carp, not smallmouth bass as I had mistakenly presumed yesterday. Sorry about that, and thanks to those two alert fisher dudes! Anyway, I think you can see their big carpy scales better in today’s picture.

And look who stopped by as I was trying to capture the perfect carp picture! Our ol’ buddy the friendly coot. I had no idea he or she was even still around.

On my way back south, another red squirrel seems to have been disappointed in yesterday’s red squirrel picture, and let me take my time to get it right.

Not far past there, I found another fledgling, this one looking like maybe a male downy or hairy woodpecker, catching some zzzs on a log, and I left him to it. I hope Mom or Dad are keeping tabs on him.

It wasn’t long before I found a grey squirrel wondering what’s up with all the red squirrel picture lately.

Lastly, almost at the south end, I finally found more mallard ducklings. Just two this time, but we’ll take ’em!

There are some new flowers and mushrooms up, but I think that’s enough for today. Oh, and we should call it our season finale, too, ’cause I’m going on a little vacation. Anne’s been working her fingers to the bone through this pandemic, so once we got vaccinated, she planned a little trip out west, and I’m thrilled to report that she asked me to come along.

Don’t worry. This isn’t a case of the burn-outs like last fall. I’ll be back in a few days, and I’m bringing my camera along anyway. Maybe I’ll find something worth reporting from the field, so watch this space and keep an eye on the place for me while I’m gone.

The big news in Estabrook today is that the Parks Department has closed the parkway to through traffic for the summer again as part of the Milwaukee County Active Streets Program, and it is glorious! I walked the length and just enjoyed listening to the birds. As I approached the north end of the closure, I spotted this little guy in the grass beside one of the old fruit trees there. The shades of grey on its head make me think it might be a young grey catbird.

I took that picture, and as I turned to leave it in peace, it flew up and tried to land in or on my camera case! Happily, it was content to perch on my finger instead, and I was able to return it to a branch up in the tree. Best of luck, little buddy.

I didn’t linger, in hopes that Mom would come by, and continued on to the pond, where I bumped into long-time reader, Sheila B, who wondered how I find all this stuff. I head a green heron overhead and spotted three on the wing, but they kept going and so did I.

At the river, as I bent down to pick up a Styrofoam™ cup, I got close enough to the water to notice this spectacle. The shallow water was teeming with tadpoles, and given the date of Toad-a-palooza this year and that toad eggs “can hatch in 2–14 days“, plus their “skinny tails in relation to the size of their black bodies“, I’m gonna guess they are American toad tadpoles. Fantastic!

Just a bit north of there, I stepped off the path and bent down to retrieve a Lunchables® wrapper and spotted this guy just floating in the water right by the shore. He or she did swim around just a bit, and slapped the water with their tail once, but they didn’t swim away, and after a few pictures, I backed away and continued my journey.

I’d barely taken 10 steps before I saw this little rascal, who didn’t seen to know what to make of me. It slow-hopped up the path a bit and then turned around and came back even closer that it was at the start. It finally ambled onto a side path and let me pass.

At the far north end, I didn’t see our ducklings, but I did spot our fifth butterfly of the season, this time a beautiful eastern black swallowtail (Papilio polyxenes asterius), fresh out of its overwintering chrysalis and soaking up some morning sun.

On the clover nearby was this little sulfur, who does have a pretty clear pink edge, so I’m gonna go with pink-edged sulphur (Colias interior).

While there, I glanced at the river and was greeted by yet another spectacle in the shallow water between the east shore and the northern island. It went on for a while and even chased away a pair of geese!

If I had to guess, I’d go with “fish spawning in the shallows”, and if you really pressed me, I’d go with smallmouth bass (Micropterus dolomieu), based on this fishing report I found online, but don’t quote me.

On my walk home, a cute little red squirrel posed for this slightly blurry picture through the sticks…

I noticed that the false Solomon’s seal (Maianthemum racemosum) is starting to open…

And, finally, this little great crested flycatcher struck a pose that I just couldn’t ignore.

Mom was pretty shy this morning, and I didn’t want to push things, so that’s all I’ve got so far, but the little tyke can already scamper pretty well.

Meanwhile, here’s a male rose-breasted grosbeak calling for the female we spotted yesterday. He might want to clean up that beak before she sees it, but maybe he’s got other qualities.

Closer to the ground, we’ve got several new blossoms in the park, including Canada columbine, eastern red columbine, or just plain wild columbine (Aquilegia canadensis);

Canada anemone, round-headed anemone, round-leaf thimbleweed, meadow anemone, windflower, or even crowfoot (Anemonastrum canadensis); and

Virginia waterleaf or eastern waterleaf (Hydrophyllum virginianum), which is often pale and scraggly, especially after the rain, but if you look long enough, you can find a presentable clump of blossoms.

Finally, cast your eyes upon this gorgeous scene captured by my colleague Mike Betette, which looks for all the world like a composition by a Dutch master, doesn’t it. He posted it on Instagram last evening, and I begged him to send me a copy that I could share with you.

The gosling between the two adults sure looks smaller than the rest, doesn’t it? Maybe they’re the ones we saw yesterday, too. Ha!

I should go out an buy lottery tickets for lunch because I can’t believe the string of luck I’ve had this morning. The air was cool, but not cold, humid, and calm, and so perfect for bugs and therefore perfect for birds. I hardly got into the park before I happened upon this little ray of sunshine: a Blackburnian warbler (Setophaga fusca), whom I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen before, and who must have missed the flight from South American that got in yesterday.

The tree he was in, right beside the southern parking lot, was loaded with birds, and when he hopped out of range, I turned my attention to this understated cutie, a female rose-breasted grosbeak to go with the male we saw just a couple of weeks ago, but whom I don’t believe I’ve seen before.

I didn’t see anybody new at the pond, and on my way to the river, I spotted yet another new arrival, a yellow-throated vireo (Vireo flavifrons), just in from Central America and dispatching a pretty big bug, right behind the branch in the second image.

At the river I headed north and didn’t see anything noteworthy until I reached the north end, where lo and behold, look who is taking their maiden swim, as far as we know. If you’re not sure, yup, that’s a mallard hen with her ducklings, and we’ve seen plenty before, but not yet this season.

They made a beeline for the exposed mudflat beside the northern island, and the little ones, I count 10 of them, acted like they’ve never eaten before in their entire lives.

For the umpteenth time, I started floating home on cloud nine, but had to stop for this picture of a chickadee mining an old tree trunk for a beakfull of fluffy fibers.

A bit further south, I came across this curious sight that I hoped it might be indian pipe, but with more color than I remember. Well, it turns out it does have the same species name as indian pipe, uniflora, and it is parasitic like indian pipe, but it’s not in the same genus or even family, and it doesn’t have such a quaint name. Instead, this delicate little flower is described by The New York Times as “The Flower That Must Not Be Named“, or if you want to play it safe, just Orobanche uniflora.

Continuing south, I head a green heron calling and finally spotted it up high up in a tree across the river absolutely rocking it’s Gru imitation.

Finally, I came across two families of geese, both of which appear to have one gosling smaller than the rest. Perhaps such adoptions are more common than I realized.

I managed to sneak into Estabrook between the warm morning rain and the cold afternoon rain, and I’m sure glad I did because I hardly got wet at all and I spotted at least two, maybe more, stunning scarlet tanagers (Piranga olivacea) in one of the big oak trees just north of the Kilbourntown House, and this one took a break from hopping all over the tree.

He’s yet another arrival from northwestern South America, whom we spotted only once last year on almost exactly the same day. I did not see a female tanager in that tree, but I did see this olive-sided fly catcher, posing right behind the tanager, and who might even have come in on the same flight.

Here they are together, and maybe they got to chatting on the long trip, but now it’s that awkward part where they walk through the airport together wondering if they’ll keep in touch and looking for an excuse to go their separate ways.

In the soccer field beside that oak tree, I spotted our fourth butterfly of the season, which is definitely one of the sulfurs, but I can’t tell if it’s pink-edged or clouded. Can you?

On the west edge of the soccer fields there are the remains of some of last year’s burdock still standing near some trees, and the goldfinches like to come there to feed. This little guy posed for me in his full summer finery in both the burdock and in the trees, but the tree shot came out prettier.

On my way to the pond, I spotted a new blue flower up where all the Virginia bluebells stood in front of the maintenance building last month, and this one appears to be Spanish bluebell (Hyacinthoides hispanica). Oddly enough, despite the similar names and appearance of their blossoms, they are not even in the same family. Virginia bluebells are in the forget-me-not family (Boraginaceae) along with forget-me-nots, hounds tongues, and lungworts, while the Spanish bluebells are in the asparagus (Asparagaceae) family along with asparagus, hyacinths, and squills.

Finally, at the pond, this bullfrog found it warm enough to climb up out of the water onto this floating log for the first time I’ve seen this season.

Then the cold front rolled though, the temperature when from 75 to 55, and I, who had gone out in shorts and a t-shirt, hustled back home.

The End.

Holy smokes, was it ever a great morning in the park, and we’ve got several new arrivals to report! First up is the “uncommon and elusive” black-billed cuckoo (Coccyzus erythropthalmus), just in from northwestern South America and looking for your tent caterpillars.

Charles tipped me off yesterday, yes that Charles, that Ken had spotted one by the pond, and when I suggested that I might mosey on over there, he explained that he once ran the entire length of Estabrook Park just in hopes of glimpsing one. So I hustled over to the pond, instead, and had no luck yesterday, but this morning was the charm.

I didn’t see anything else new at the pond and so headed down to the river where I happened upon this amazing spectacle. I count 20 goslings, and the Pedia of Wik explains that Canada geese form crèches, in which adults will “care of another’s offspring,” and that is what I expect we have here.

Speaking of care, they were heading for the falls so I followed along to see how that would go, and they got out just in time to portage around on the Milwaukee Urban Water Trail.

Mom went over the log across the trail, and a few followed, but then one discovered that they could sneak under it instead, and that’s what all the rest did, including Dad. Ha!

There were still a couple of eastern kingbirds fishing over the same spot on the river as yesterday.

The catbirds were in the sumac again between the river and the beer garden.

And at the north end, I spotted this menagerie on one of the sandbars exposed by the low water. We’ve got a goose and three goslings (another goose ended up on the editing room floor), a mallard drake, a wood duck drake, and one spotted sandpiper, for good measure.

At the far north end, I finally encountered a blue jay that was more interested in chasing something in that tree, which I couldn’t quite see, than worrying about me for a change. For such brazen feeder raiders, they sure are shy in the wild.

Since the sun was coming out, and the day was really warming up, I swung back by the pond on my way south, and look who decided to show its face. Yup, the bullfrogs are finally up from their winter slumber.

Also up are the yellow iris (Iris pseudacorus) along the northeast shore of the pond.

And if all of that wasn’t enough of a sign that summer is finally here, look who just flew in from the mountains of central Mexico. Last year I didn’t spot my first one until June.

There were at least two of them and maybe more, and they did not want to settle down, so my pictures merely serve as proof-of-life so far.

Lastly, we’ve got a reader photo of the week sent in by frequent park walker and professional videographer, Armonie of Prime Time Visuals. He spotted this little cutie on one of the paved paths in the park, so watch your step!

Just like last year, almost to the day, all the geese and goslings were suddenly gone from the pond this morning. I felt just like Chuckie in the final scene of Good Will Hunting, a mix of hope and bittersweet. There were some likely looking candidates down on the river, so just like last year, let’s hope they all hiked down the nice little path from the pond in the night and are making their way to Hubbard Park right now.

Happily, the stream of new arrivals continues in the park, and we’ve got a couple of handsome ones today. First, there were at least four of these dapper-lookig eastern kingbirds (Tyrannus tyrannus), fresh in from “winter along the Amazon” and hunting flying insects over the river.

Speaking of hunting flying insects, there were these sharp-dressed great crested flycatchers (Myiarchus crinitus) almost everywhere I looked in Estabrook and fresh in from the Yucatan Peninsula.

As luck would have it, Charles, yes the famous expert Charles, claims that the non-breeding female/immature bay-breasted warbler from yesterday is actually a great crested flycatcher, and he might be correct, but I’m pressing him for details. I’ll keep you posted as this developing story unfolds.

Okay, back to positive IDs. After the display of fishing prowess by the great blue hearing yesterday, this green heron on the river wanted to show me how it’s done.

Okay, so they’re pretty tiny fish, compared to the whales Ol’ Blue was hauling in, but Gru made it look like he caught a dozen of them. They’re actually so small, it’s a little hard to tell when he caught one and when he just missed.

He even had his eye on a flying insect at one point, but never did pull the trigger.

Speaking of flying insects, the dragonflies are back, and maybe that’s the signal the geese use to know when checkout is. Anyway, there is a particular big blue and green dragonfly that seemingly never lands and that I seemingly spent forever last summer trying in vain to capture. Well, well, well, look who was too preoccupied to avoid my lens this morning. “A complex, precisely choreographed process” indeed. Ha!

It’s not the greatest picture for a positive ID, but I’m gonna go with common green darner (Anax junius), which I read means “Lord of June”. The bug lady explains that they are “a genuine, though tentative, sign of spring,” and I have been spotting them on warm days for weeks. The Pedia of Wik reports that they are “well known for [their] great migration distance from the northern United States south into Texas and Mexico.” Yup. They migrate from Mexico just like the monarch butterflies and the great crested flycatchers. Ha!

Well, that’s it for the critters, but I do have a couple pretty flowers to show you. First, the forget-me-nots are opening everywhere now, and this one shows the buds for a pretty little curl.

Lastly, this is a blossom that I don’t believe I noticed last summer, the striking garden star-of-Bethlehem, grass lily, nap-at-noon, or even eleven-o’clock lady (Ornithogalum umbellatum) from “the asparagus family (Asparagaceae),” if you can believe it!

Well that’s it for today, and who knows what tomorrow will bring. Seriously, who knows, and if you do, give me a heads-up, would you?