What a nice morning we had in Estabrook today. The sky wasn’t perfectly clear, but the air was cool and still, and road traffic was light, so it was easy to forget that I was in an urban park for the couple of hours after sunrise.

My first treat for the morning was catching this cutie as it swam across the reflection of the early morning sun off the red brick building that supports the radio tower above the far riverbank. With a “hairdo” like that, you know its gotta be the hooded merganser that’s been with us for a couple of days now.

My second treat was laying eyes on this peregrine falcon enjoying its breakfast on a cross brace of the radio tower mentioned above. I’d been hearing it call for a few minutes as I approached the river, and I was holding my breath that I might catch a glimpse of it before it took off. Sometimes dreams do come true.

At the pond, another bird we love to see, this green heron, also tipped me off with its call.

Back at the river, at least one beaver emerged from the shadows, even if only for a minute.

Meanwhile, on our shore, in the meadow across from the northern island, a dew-bejeweled black swallowtail, our first of the season, held tight and waited for the day to dry it off. (That’s one image worth zooming in on, if I say so myself, and you are so inclined.)

On my way back south along the river, the house wren we saw yesterday seemed disappointed with the picture I took. The sky was grey, I wasn’t very close, and the hunch-backed look isn’t very flattering. Thus, here we are much closer with a nice blue sky and a much less extreme pose.

At the pollinator garden, some bee balm is beginning to open, but I haven’t seen any clearwings yet. Instead, here’s a brand new damselfly for us, a seemingly oxymoronically-named orange bluet (Enallagma signatum), which the Pedia of Wik helpfully explains “stands out from many other bluets because of its orange color.” As before, it seems to prefer sunning on the sun-block mat.

At the thistle patch beside the soccer fields, I managed to sneak one more monarch picture.

Finally, the goldfinches continue to enjoy the thistles that have gone to seed, and here’s a female digging into a bull or musk thistle blossom.

The weather was a bit unsettled this morning in Estabrook Park. First it rained, hard, which I waited out over breakfast, then the sun came out for a bit, and then it clouded back up. Oh well.

I saw the hooded merganser again, but it was in the same spot as before, so its picture would have looked the same as it did yesterday. Instead, the surprise at the river was this wood duck hen with four ducklings. Sure, you can only see two or maybe three in this image, but I like how they are nice and close together. Perhaps they started as the seven we saw on the first.

I didn’t see anyone notable again until the far north end. The cedar waxwings that like to hunt for bugs there seem to have gotten used to me coming by to check on the swallows because today they granted me this beautiful sight. I’ve known that they have a bright yellow tip on their tail, but I can’t remember seeing a bright red mark on their wings before.

On my way back south, I did see a great blue heron again, but no turtles or owls, and I thought the most interesting sight today was this spotted sandpiper on the far shore just below the falls. In previous years, when the river water was much lower, I’d be seeing them and killdeer on exposed parts of the river bottom, but this year the high water is making it a bit more of a trick to spot them.

I had barely taken the sandpiper picture when this mallard hen and her four ducklings steamed past.

At the top of the bluff, by the beer garden, I’ve been hearing a house wren for weeks, and this morning he was perched in a nice-enough spot, so here he is. Boy, he really throws his entire body into is song, doesn’t he?

Back at the pond, I was keeping off the bench to avoid forcing the mallards resting on the lawn into the water, so it was a pleasant surprise when the four wood ducks I’ve been seeing lately, three hens and the one remaining duckling from the first batches, all swam right over. First, I seldomly see them all together like this, and second, the duckling and its mom, the two hanging back, tend to be shyer than this.

Well, one of the hens has become quite bold, hopped up onto the lawn, and even shoed away a mallard or two as she strode around the lawn looking for treats. She eventually got quite close to me, even crossing the path to check behind me, as I just stood still, and here she is wondering where in heck is the food I brought her. As I’ve told them before, “sorry, Sweety, that’s some other old guy, not me.”

Anyway, a second hen joined her, though not quite as bold, and the mom and duckling seemed to loose their nerve a bit and drifted away from shore.

Anyway, I eventually had to move on, and I was a little disappointed to find no pretty butterflies or dragonflies today. Instead, here’s one of the goldfinches are starting to tear into the thistle blossoms that have already gone to seed.

The weather was about as perfect as I can imagine for a couple of hours in Estabrook Park this morning. The sky was clear and blue, the air was nearly still, and the temperature was 70°F. Plus, holiday traffic was very quiet that early. The critter traffic was also pretty quiet, however, and I didn’t get my first picture until I was checking on the swallows under the bridge at the far north end. There were a few cedar waxwings there, too, which we’ve seen before, and as I tried in vain to get one lined up for a picture, look who was busy digging her breakfast out from under the bark of a dead ash tree right behind them: a female hairy woodpecker.

The beaver were keeping in the deep shadows again, so I continued back south, and look who I found beside the path I had just come up not twenty minutes before: another mid-sized snapping turtle on the move.

They have such pretty eyes, …

fierce-looking claws, and …

cute little tails.

Just above the falls, a great blue heron was taking a sun bath.

Below the falls, near the abandoned bridge abutment, there was a commotion in the trees across the river. It wasn’t crows this time, but instead jays, grackles, blackbirds, and even robins joined in the fray. There must have been two to three dozen birds hopping from branch to branch and making a ruckus, all in an effort to get this great horned owl to move on, which it eventually did, but not before giving us a look with those big yellow eyes.

Back at the pond, it was time for the black bullhead fry to hatch, and this is just a small fraction of the entire school.

On my last pass by the river, I was pleasantly surprised to spot a young or female hooded merganser had stopped by. I wonder how long it will stick around.

Back up on the bluff, here’s a male common whitetail basking in the sun on the same railing I found one exactly three years ago.

Finally, at the weeds beside the soccer fields, I found a very green eastern pondhawk, so our first female, and …

one more buckeye, but up on a flower for a change.

It was a warm and muggy morning in Estabrook Park, but the forecast rain never arrived, and the sun eventually came out, so it was a fine morning for a visit after all. Plus, I suspect many folks were getting a jump on holiday travel, so traffic was pretty light in the park, which is always a treat.

I was happy to see a great blue heron back on the pond, but the green heron continues to elude me this month, or perhaps it has moved on for better fishing.

I glimpsed plenty of other birds, a couple of mammals, and even the snout of a snapping turtle, but I didn’t encounter any portrait opportunities until I was on my way back south after my second visit to the pond and I heard a woodpecker drumming. I checked the trees nearby without luck, but it kept drumming, and I eventually found the culprit, this male red-bellied woodpecker, on the gutter of the maintenance building. That gutter made a good drum.

I didn’t see anyone at the pollinator garden, but with the sun now out and the breeze still light, I knew it wouldn’t take long. Sure enough, barely 100 yards farther south, this tiny summer azure paused to soak up some of that sun.

The thistles beside the southern soccer fields were bustling, and here’s a clouded sulfur sulphur, …

a cabbage white making an interesting picture for a change, and …

our very first tawny emperor (Asterocampa clyton), close relative of the Hackberry emperor we first saw last summer, sipping moisture from the wet pavement.

Finally, there were also some dragonflies, and here’s our first Halloween pennant of the season.

Our streak of nice weather has broken, and it was quite a rainy morning in Estabrook Park. It wasn’t very cold, the winds were light, and there were some gaps in the rain, however, so I managed to sneak some pictures anyway.

The biggest surprise was spotting this eastern bluebird, whom we haven’t seen in a while. I sure am glad to know they are still around.

At the north end, I checked on the beaver again. They had slept in yesterday, or at least weren’t out on their front porch, but I did see this adult hiding in the shadows today. I’m as surprised as you might be to see that two-toned face, but we’re not the only ones to have seen such markings.

Finally, I don’t know if this is a separate set of ducklings on the pond, or if the seven we saw yesterday is down one already, but they did bunch up much better for the camera this morning.

That’s all I’ve got for today, I’m afraid, and I am a little surprised to have this much.

It was a perfect morning in Estabrook Park, with not a cloud in the sky and barely a breeze, and thus nice cool air. When I stopped by the river on my way to the pond, I counted a few mallards, a couple of geese, and nearly a dozen northern rough-winged swallows. Then I started to collect the fishing tackle left over from the weekend, and I nearly fell over when I glanced up and saw seven young-looking wood duck ducklings following their mom across the river to our side. Hot diggity dog! They are trying again.

After getting some pictures and taking a moment to look around for what else I had missed, I hiked up to the pond, and look who I found along the way.

At the pond, I counted a few mallards, a couple of wood duck hens, looked for the green heron, and started collecting fishing tackle left over from the weekend. When I glanced up, I could not believe my eyes, because there were seven more youngish-looking wood duck ducklings following their mom across the pond. Fantastic! They’ve doubled their odds.

After that, I took a moment to sit on the bench to see who else I might have missed. That’s when the female belted kingfisher perched over the near shore a couple dozen yards a way. She still looks soaking wet, but on a day like today, you know she’s soaked by choice, and she’ll be able to dry out pretty quickly.

I eventually continued to the north end, and spotted the great blue heron fishing on our side of the river.

At the bridges, the cliff and barn swallows continue to go about their business, and on my way back south, I stopped by the pond one more time in hopes of spotting the green heron. I had no luck with that, but instead I got to watch the single remaining and now nearly-grown wood duck duckling from the first batches wrestle with its mom over a tadpole she had caught. It’s tricky enough to get a good picture when they are just wrestling with the tadpole, but adding in another hungry duck meant that this picture was the best I could do. Mom’s got the tadpole in her bill just under water, and the duckling is just about to make another grab for it, but Mom won out in the end.

At the south end of the pond, I could hear one of the many fledglings around these days begging for food in a tree right overhead, and as I searched for it, this Baltimore oriole poked out of the leaves and stole the shot.

Once the oriole got what it was after and took off, I did find the little crier, and it appears to be a northern cardinal, based on its short and stout beak.

Continuing south, I stopped by the pollinator garden, and found this powdered dancer (Argia moesta), which I suspect we’ve seen before, but never in this detail. Oh, and it is posing on the mat they have put down to kill the sod grass before expanding the garden, in case you are wondering.

Just to the west of the dancer, also eschewing all the pretty flowers, I found this female blue dasher (Pachydiplax longipennis), which we have seen before, but only in the male form. If you click on the image and zoom in, you can see the individual lenses of its compound eye, especially in the bright spot on the left eye reflecting the sun. I’m not sure I’ve managed to pull that off before.

At the weeds beside the soccer fields, there was another buckeye warming itself in the sun.

There was a male widow skimmer, and perhaps only the third male I’ve ever seen.

Finally, I spotted another monarch, and like the buckeye, it appeared to be more hungry for warmth than sugar at the moment.

Lastly, I’m thrilled to report that someone, perhaps an angler thanking me for all my help with his gear, left me my first park beer of the year, and a fine one at that. What a nice way to start July. Thanks!

It was a tad breezy this morning, but the skies were crystal clear so it was light enough for me to go out before sunrise, which is always a treat. Better yet, soon after I arrived, the parks department closed the parkway to through traffic for the Shorewood Farmers Market today, so I got to enjoy the park with even less car noise than usual. How sweet it was.

Anyway, at the pond, there were three wood duck hens again, along with the single duckling, and here are the hens enjoying each other’s company on a peaceful Sunday morning.

The green heron was kind enough, perhaps due to the enhanced tranquility, to grant us a nice, eye-level view.

When I got to the river, I found the beaver at the southern tip of the northern island, where we’ve seen it before, and here it is appearing to be munching quietly on its breakfast.

But then, as I took another shot, just to see if I could hold the camera a little stiller or the autofocus would latch onto the beaver’s fur a little better, I could not believe what I saw. Check out the little face that has suddenly appeared just to the right of the first beaver. There are two of them!

Well then, I had to take a lot more pictures, and check out who joined the first two from the left. Now there are three! The second one, who has moved in front of the first one, even appears to be holding its little tail up for us.

And finally, for the cherry on top, a fourth one pokes its little face up over the rump of the second one. It’s a whole dang family, and there really were mouths to feed yesterday. Outstanding! (Please note that in all the excitement, I may have misjudged which one is which, in what order they appeared, and to whom belongs that little tail.)

I took a moment to let the joy of seeing all that sink in, and then headed up to the far north end to check on the swallows under the bridge. I’m happy to report that they all appear to be still doing fine, but the fun sight was this cedar waxwing who perched pretty close after competing with the swallows for bugs flying over the water. The backlighting was brutal, so it’s not much of a portrait, but they seldom let me get this close, so I’ll take what I can get.

On my way back south along the river, a noisy murder of crows alerted me that something was afoot, and it didn’t take long for this Cooper’s hawk to start keening to reveal what it was: a Cooper’s hawk being mobbed by a murder of crows.

Just above the falls and across the river, I found the great blue heron resting in the sun.

At the pollinator garden, I didn’t see any butterflies, but I did see our very first spot-winged glider (Pantala hymenaea).

At the thistles beside the soccer fields, I did see a few red admirals, of which we’ve seen plenty lately, and I was more excited to get another close look at an eastern pondhawk.

In the birch tree above the thistles, the indigo bunting, who is a regular there, was singing his song.

Finally, here’s a red admiral, after all, sipping nectar from a thistle blossom and giving us a rare glimpse of the intricately-patterned ventral (under/out) side of its wings.

See you in July!

Daylight came late yesterday, and the rain came early, so I didn’t have much to show you, and I opted to try again this morning. The sky was dark again today, but the clouds thinned out a bit, and they never leaked, so things went much better.

A single green heron has been hanging out at the pond for a while, and I glimpsed it yesterday, but today it seemed more concerned with drying out than evading my camera.

Better yet, a great blue heron was also at the pond, perhaps because the river is so high, fast, and brown lately, but we haven’t been seeing them at the pond much yet this year.

On my way over to the river, I heard our new buddy again, the red-headed woodpecker.

As I hiked north along the river, I spotted motion in the now-flooded side channel, and I was stunned to see a beaver dragging out a small branch it had just gnawed off some tree. I didn’t have a shot, however, so I high-tailed it up the trail in hopes of catching it where the channel connects to the river, and I arrived just in time. Phew!

Once it got out into the river, it was easier to see the branch it was towing behind.

I watched it through my binoculars as it swam to the northern island, and it climbed up right where we saw one climb up earlier in the month. I sure hope this means it has mouths to feed.

On my way back south, I managed to catch this chipmunk up in a crabapple tree, which I do not get to see very often.

It soon scampered back to earth, however, and joined one of its comrades in munching on the many mulberries littering the ground instead.

Back at the south end, I stopped by the thistles blooming along the west edge of the soccer fields and was thrilled to find our first common buckeye of the season.

There was also our first skipper of the season, this sharp little fiery skipper.

The weeds attract more than just butterflies, and here’s my very first cobra clubtail dragonfly (Gomphurus vastus)

Finally, our second damselfly of the season appears to be my very first familiar bluet (Enallagma civile)

Lastly, the one picture I did get yesterday is of this soaking wet female belted kingfisher on the far side of the pond. She did not look thrilled with me taking her picture.

Morocco sure was amazing, but I’m always glad to get back home, and temps in the mid 70s sure are easier to take than temps in the mid 100s. Besides the mild temps, the sky was clear, and the breeze was light, so it was a perfect morning to get back into Estabrook Park. Better yet, my good lens was waiting for me when I got home yesterday afternoon, and it appears to be working as good as new. Yay!

There were a dozen mallards on the pond, but none looked like a duckling, so let’s hope its mom hiked the one we had been seeing down to the river, or I just didn’t see it this morning. I did see one wood duck duckling and three hens, and I’m guessing the hen that duckling followed up onto a log is its mom.

At the river, I heard the now-somewhat-familiar sound of a red-headed woodpecker, and I eventually found it high over the southern island. I still have my fingers crossed that a pair will expand their range into Estabrook so that we can see them more regularly.

While I was hunting for the woodpecker, this grey squirrel on our side of the river, who was probably a youngster based on its behavior, seemed fascinated by me, and kept creeping closer for a better look. It got so close that I had to zoom out to get this picture.

Over the meadow at the north end, a Cooper’s hawk was soaring amongst the swallows and swifts as though it thought it might catch one, but I didn’t see it have any luck, and it eventually drifted east.

Meanwhile, at the north end of the meadow, this male indigo bunting was alternately singing and picking seeds out of the seedhead it is holding in its right claw.

After a few sightings earlier in the spring, the northern rough-winged swallows seemed to disappear for a while, but they were back big-time today. Perhaps all the nestlings are now fledglings.

Back at the south end, the big patch of weeds along the west side of the soccer fields is now full of blossoming thistle, which is attracting plenty of bugs, but here’s a female twelve-spotted skimmer, perched on a burdock burr from last summer, who might be just there for the warm sun.

The birch tree that stands in the middle of the patch regularly attracts house wrens, indigo buntings, and song sparrows. This is one of the latter.

And like the bunting above, my presence did not interrupt its singing.

Finally, the bugs on the flowers included this red admiral, …

this painted lady, …

and this bicolored striped sweat bee, the “official bee” of Toronto.

I mentioned cattle egrets when I showed you the glossy ibises we saw in Casablanca, and they are one of the most ubiquitous birds I’ve seen on this trip. In Meknes, when I went up to the rooftop to count birds in the morning and would see maybe a couple dozen storks flying over, I would also see at least five times that many cattle egrets. It was in Tétouan, however, when I got close enough for a decent picture. Here’s one perched on a wall behind the big fish market, …

and here’s a tree overflowing with them just down the hill a bit from that wall. I didn’t see any signs of nesting there and doubt there would be. Instead, they seem to like each other’s company, and that was a convenient location near the fish market from which they probably can get some tasty scraps.

We’re in Marrakesh now, and we did come by train, but we didn’t take the Express, so we had a nice leisurely ride watching the countryside turn from “hot-summer Mediterranean“, with rolling hills covered in olive trees with fields ready for haying, to “hot desert,” with not much growing at all, and it hit 105°F for our camel ride yesterday afternoon. There are still plenty of birds around, despite the climate, and here’s my latest attempt at getting a house bunting portrait from the rooftop of our new riad.

Finally, the common bulbuls have gone from “quite infrequent” in the north, to “pretty common” around here, and this is a pair posing the way I often get to see bulbuls do.