It was a beautiful, if brisk, morning in Estabrook Park, with clear skies and measured temps below freezing for the first time this season. I even had to wear gloves.
On my way north, I didn’t see anything exciting until I came upon this muskrat in the river between the two islands. It was repeatedly diving and surfacing, and I’m not sure to what end, butthe last time I saw one was on the pond back in July, so it was great to see one again anyway.
Even better, just beyond the muskrat, a young bald eagle stood perched over the northern island, and perhaps it is the same one we saw back in September.
On my way back south, I caught a glimpse through the bushes of this male belted kingfisher preening in the sun on a perch over the river. I tried to move a bit to get the sun at my back, but the kingfisher was having none of that.
Just a little downstream a male downy woodpecker was busily excavating a nesting cavity.
I don’t know how far he intends to go, but you can see he’s gotten pretty far already.
Finally, a white-tailed doe checked me out while simultaneously listening for anyone who might be trying to sneak up behind her.
I can’t make it to Estabrook Park today, but the forecast is for “cloudy”, and I think we’ve all seen enough grainy pictures with grey backgrounds lately. Instead, I’ve found a few recent pictures that I haven’t shown you yet, so here we go.
First up is another song sparrow posing sweetly by the river at the north end of the park from yesterday.
And here’s another look at the little red squirrel from yesterday, after it decided I was no threat and felt an itch that needed taking care of.
Here’s an African striped skink (Trachylepis striata) that I spotted in Lilongwe, hence the concrete curb it is slinking along. I read that “skinks are characterized by their smaller legs in comparison to typical lizards, and most species of skinks have long, tapering tails they can shed if predators grab onto them. Such species generally can regenerate the lost part of a tail, though imperfectly. A lost tail can grow back within around three to four months.”
Okay, that’s enough of that. The forecast for tomorrow morning is “cool” but sunny. I might need gloves, but that’s a small price to pay for decent light and pretty blue backgrounds, if you ask me.
Fall has arrived at last, and temps fell from the high 60s yesterday afternoon to the high 30s this morning. Plus, the skies were crystal clear, and the air was nearly still, so there was even a bit of radiation frost on the grass at sunrise. That warm sun, the blue skies, and still a bit of fall foliage left on the trees made for some nice pictures, and here’s a red-bellied woodpecker rustling up its breakfast.
Here’s a song sparrow that I interrupted from its foraging, and now it is giving me the evil eye until I move on so it can get back to work.
At the far north end, I thought I saw an eagle flying north, but I couldn’t get a good enough look to be sure, and then I heard a raptor call from across the river. It turns out we still have an osprey around, but I couldn’t get a picture to turn out.
Instead, I found a pair of red-tailed hawks perched high above our side of the river, and here’s the one that wasn’t too buried in the branches.
On my way back south, I found another young-looking red squirrel, who paused from its busy schedule to keep tabs on me.
Then, as I tried to reposition for an even better shot, it took off while I wasn’t looking, but I soon found it flying north with a fresh catch in tow!
At the southern tip of the same island, this great blue heron was basking in the sun and could barely keep its eyes open, despite the commotion above.
Even crazier, at the southern-most staircase, near where I had seen the pair of merlins on Tuesday, I found the osprey again, and this time I could get close enough for a portrait. What a morning this was turning out to be.
At the far south end, I was surprised to find an easter phoebe still hanging around. I bet it will struggle to fill its belly with flying bugs today.
Lastly, here’s a mourning dove that was hiding deep in the leaves that remain.
Well, the rain did stop eventually, and the temperatures remain mild, for now, but the skies are still dark this morning, and I had a helper along with short legs who didn’t want to explore farther than the pond this time.
We did, however, spot this male belted kingfisher perched over the pond before some nice fall foliage, …
And this male wood duck stretching a wing just above the water.
On the day we hiked along the stream, we kept seeing this one type of butterfly, who turned out to be of the species serene sailer or river sailer (Neptis serena), and who absolutely refused to let me get a picture. At one point, after several failed attempts, Anne asked how I ever got butterfly pictures at all. Anyway, when I went back early the next morning, this particular specimen was more interestied in warming up in the sun than in evading my camera, so here we are.
I would have never spotted this next spectacular creature if I hadn’t noticed it flying in for a landing. I can’t get an exact ID, but it was pretty big, and it appears to be an antlion, possibly in the Palpares genus.
The forecast is for rain all morning tomorrow (today when you are reading this), so I finally have an opportunity to show you the last of my trip pictures. When Anne was searching for flights from Malawai, where we had been for her research, to Delft, where I was going to a conference, they all seemed to go through Nampula, in northeastern Mozambique, so we decided to pop in for a visit to check it out.
Anyway, the island is “now entirely urbanised,” so the wildlife there has adapted to live near humans, and this is who we saw. One of the most common creatures was the pied crow, same as we saw in Malawi.
I also saw my very first cattle egret (Bubulcus ibis), despite the fact that Estabrook Park appears to be in their breeding range. Perhaps we don’t have enough cattle, with whom I read they “maintain a special relationship”, in the park to attract them.
Even though the island is urbanized, it is an island in the Indian Ocean, after all, so some shorebirds might be expected, and here’s a common sandpiper, which we last saw in the Sečovlje Saltpans of Slovenia.
On our last evening on the island, I finally came down with something, probably from the ice in the caipirinha I ill-advisedly enjoyed over dinner, and I was laying low the next morning. That was until Anne came back from her walk all excited about an egret she had seen foraging on the mud exposed by low tide. As the trooper that I like to imagine that I am, I dutifully strapped on my camera and headed out with her to find a slew of little egrets, which we also first saw in Slovenia, but in less-fancy plumage this time.
I got off to a slow start in Estabrook Park this morning. It wasn’t raining very hard, but if I get any drops on my lens, I’m pretty much done for the day, so I waited out the precipitation. When I finally did venture in, I was happy to find plenty of critters still out and about. Perhaps they had waited out the rain as well and were busy making up for lost time.
I was particularly surprised to find this young male yellow-bellied sapsucker on the east side of the pond so late in the season. I expected that they had all already flown south, but I underestimated this procrastinator.
There are also still wood ducks on the pond, and here’s a pair already taking their morning nap.
There was a flock of hungry cedar waxwings around, which is always a treat, and here’s one scarfing down berries on the west side of the pond.
I eventually headed to the river, and I was greeted by this young and curious red squirrel beside the water.
A bit farther north, something spooked this young white-tailed buck on the southern island, and then the poor thing got photobombed by a great blue heron. He’s having a rough morning.
At the north end, another merlin was perched high above the northern island. Perhaps it is one of the pair from yesterday.
There was a big fish, probably chinook salmon, breaking the surface of the shallow river water.
On my way back south, I came across this dark-eyed junco on the side of the bluff coming down from the beer garden.
Just a bit farther south, this ruby-crowned kinglet was foraging in a willow tree right along the river.
I normally don’t take a lot of eastern gray squirrel pictures, but this one munching on a nut really dared me to.
Finally, here’s another hermit thrush, but this one was really doing its best to show off its distinctive cinnamon tail.
It was an odd morning in Estabrook Park. It was warmer than yesterday, but even darker, and breezy in unprotected areas. I did see most of the regulars, but nobody looked particularly photogenic today, I hadn’t seen any surprise guests, and I hadn’t even taken one picture by the time I started my way back south from the far north end.
Then, farther south, I took the last stairway up the bluff from the path along the river, and I couldn’t believe my luck when I spotted this little cutie almost right overhead. That prominent white eyebrow marks this as a merlin (Falco columbarius), and we’re in their migration territory, so we don’t get to see them too often.
Best of all, while I was taking this picture, I could hear a call from another bird nearby! Right across the parkway, there was a second merlin similarly perched in the top of another tree, and I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ve ever seen two of them together. Sweet!
And that’s it for Estabrook Park this morning, so since I have plenty of room left in this post, here are a couple more pictures from Malawi. First, a couple more agama lizards.
Anne and I are back from our travels, and I still have some pictures from the trip, but I was anxious to check on our friends in Estabrook Park this morning, so I’ll keep the rest of the trip pictures in my back pocket for one of the rainy days in our forecast.
The sun was slow to shine this morning, and streetlights were still on well after sunrise, but this goldfinch busily feasting on cedar seeds by the soccer fields helpfully held still long enough for my camera to capture an image.
Just a bit farther north, I could hear a trio of cardinals chirping to each other, and one happened to perch out in the open so we could have a look.
On the pond, there was a trio of wood ducks preening and resting, …
a great blue heron skulking along the far shore, …
a bold female mallard dabbling along the near shore, …
and a couple dozen Canada geese, of which these sixteen did a nice job of lining up with the fall foliage over the island.
At the north end, a Cooper’s hawk perched in one tree over the northern island in the river, and the sun snuck through the clouds for a moment, …
while a peregrine falcon perched in another, and the clouds had already plugged that hole.
Finally, a recently-arrived hermit thrush was perhaps digesting a belly full of breakfast, or just taking a breather, before continuing a bit farther south to its wintering grounds.
On our last morning at the preserve, I got up at sunrise again to go see who I could find. One simple technique I have often used to spot birds is to look for big dark spots in trees, but that had been oddly unfruitful for me on this trip, until the last morning. This first large dark spot, at the very top of a tree across the small valley that the stream had carved, is a broad-billed roller aka cinnamon roller (Eurystomus glaucurus).
I read that they “are known as rollers because of the aerial acrobatics some of these birds perform during courtship or territorial flights. Rollers resemble crows in size and build and share the colorful appearance of kingfishers and bee-eaters.”
As time for breakfast approached and I headed back toward the lodge, I spotted this white-breasted cuckooshrike (Ceblepyris pectoralis). Despite the name, I read that “cuckooshrikes are not closely related to either the cuckoos or to the shrikes.” Instead, “the name probably comes from the grey color of many of the cuckooshrikes.”
Right after the cuckooshrike, another bird swooped in, and this one is a black-headed oriole (Oriolus larvatus). Man, I was on a roll. That’s four new birds in about 90 minutes. Sweet!
Finally, as I approached the lodge, where Anne was already enjoying her cup of tea, I spotted this stunner, an amethyst sunbird, aka black sunbird (Chalcomitra amethystina). I had actually glimpsed one two days before, but the pictures were just too rough to publish. The picture below is still not quite what I would call a portrait, but you can at least make out a little violet patch on its shoulder.
And that finally wraps up the birds of Malawi, but wait, there were other creatures to see as well. One morning as we set out on our hike after breakfast, a troop of vervet monkeys (Chlorocebus pygerythrus) came through. At first, the scouts were very shy, but when the boss showed up and took a seat on the ground to calmly munch on fallen fruit, …
One afternoon, Anne and I hiked to a highpoint, from which we could see Lilongwe in the distance to the northeast and Mozambique only a few kilometers away to the west. While there, a small flock of these hungry little birds, bronze mannikins or bronze munias (Spermestes cucullata), flew into the swaying treetops above us and really made me work for these pictures.
In this image you can better see the bicolored beak that helps distinguish it from the black-and-white mannikin.
After struggling with the mannikins, it was a joy to work with this darling Souza’s shrike (Lanius souzae), who was willing to sit for this portrait.
Okay, I’ve gotta stop here because the conference is finally over, and so Anne and I are going to visit Gouda for the day before we start our journey home tomorrow. Yes, I will be sure to sample the cheese.