Well, it took me three tries, twice yesterday and once again this morning, to get some pictures worth showing, and here they finally are:

The wood duck hen on the pond, who started with ten ducklings just two weeks ago, is down to only four, and here they are all in a row. I also saw the hen who started with three ducklings at the beginning of June, and she still has two.

I am thrilled to report that we appear to have a recently fledged belted kingfisher on the river. I very seldomly see even two at a time, but here are three perched together, and the female on the far right looks like she’s still hoping to be fed by Mom or Dad.

Here’s a closer look at a female, and I can’t say for sure if she’s a fledgling or a parent, but the parents tend to resist letting me have a portrait like that.

Here’s a great blue heron over the pond early yesterday morning demonstrating maximal neck snakage.

And here’s one in flight over the river a little later that same morning with its neck uncharacteristically straight, as a crane would fly.

While out in Waterford with Anne’s family for the 4th, I took a walk around her folks’ place and saw a couple of sandhill cranes, but the sun was hot so the air was very wavy, and the birds were far away, so the pictures are terrible, even worse than the heron picture above. Instead, I was able to get nice and close to this female widow skimmer basking a bit in that same warm sun.

Meanwhile, there were a pair of red-tailed hawks soaring and calling overhead, and here’s one of them.

Back to this morning, I’ve completely lost track of all the mallard ducklings on the river, but here are a recent-looking trio strolling through the muck with their mom.

Then, as I was walking back south along the river, this red squirrel acted like it had never seen anything as strange as me before.

Finally, at the south end, at the west side of the soccer fields, where it is too wet to mow and the parks department lets a few flowers bloom, a stand of Canada thistle is attracting butterflies, and here’s a monarch sipping its fill of some sweet Canadian nectar.

Ah, that’s more like it! The smoke and humidity have moved on, and we had blue skies this morning like I haven’t seen in weeks. I was able to take advantage of it right away at the south end when a ruckus amongst the crows distracted this one enough from evading me for a moment.

The pond was as busy as ever this morning, and here’s a muskrat making a grocery run, …

and a great blue heron working to regain its balance.

But the wood duck hen and her young ducklings were tired enough to sleep through it all.

As I headed back towards the river, I heard an unfamiliar call from the tree right behind home plate, so I checked with merlin, who claimed it was from an orchard oriole, but we’ve only seen one once before in Estabrook, so I wanted visual confirmation to be sure. Well, the little stinker made me follow it through three additional trees before it finally settled down, but then it really put on a show.

At the crest of the bluff, by the beer garden, I was finally able to capture one of the many young grackles that have been foraging with their folks in the big outfield.

Back at the river, the Canada geese have returned from their brief absence, but I was more interested in this shot of a kingfisher perched over mallard ducklings and couldn’t believe my luck when a grackle photobombed the shot.

Back on land, I was looking for butterflies again, but this indigo bunting stole the show.

Finally, back at the far south end, I was looking for butterflies yet again, but house wrens were making a racket, and I was thrilled to get to see this scene. Here’s a fledgling waiting for its breakfast.

Here’s mom or dad delivering.

And then here they are telling me to get lost.

So, no new butterflies today, but here’s a glimpse of the top side of the wings of the first mystery butterfly from yesterday, and those white spots plus that red stripe make this a red admiral.

And here’s a glimpse of the top side of the wings of the second mystery butterfly from yesterday, and those black splotches on a red background, plus the bright white “c” in yesterday’s image, make this an eastern comma.

Lastly, here’s one more butterfly from yesterday, a dun skipper (Euphyes vestris), feeding on milkweed blossoms, along with an ant, and I believe this is the first one I’ve ever seen. Anyway, if you have ever noticed that milkweed tends to have ants on it and would like a short but fascinating read on the topic, try this one.

Oh! I almost forgot to mention that I heard my first cicadas singing this morning.

The clouds were thick again this morning, so I waited until 8am, at which time I figured I had as much light as I was going to get, so into the park I went.

The first treat for me was this perfect arrangement of wood ducks on a rock in the river.

Just upriver from the ducks, I found a trio of spotted sandpipers, and two of them managed to get in the same frame, at least for a moment.

A female belted kingfisher was perched over the far riverbank, but the river was pretty narrow at that point, so I was able to get a nice-enough portrait.

At the midpoint, where I would usually turn east to stop by the pond, I spotted an interesting critter out on the river, but it was pretty far off, and after an expedition to get a closer shot, I had two grocery bags full of left over fishing tackle and supplies, so I popped up the stairs by the southern playground just in time to spot these two in front of the maintenace building as they dashed for the woods along the Oak Leaf Trail. Ha!

The park was filling up with farmers’ market goers by then, so I went right back down to the river, and soon came across at least one and probably two recently fledged blue jays, still sporting some fuzzy baby feathers, who were insistently crying for more food.

At the southern island I spotted that interesting visitor again, and I got a better picture, but still not the best, so I continued to the north end. At the meadow just south of the old boat launch, the parks department has inexplicably resumed mowing the wild flowers, but not yet all of them, so I searched for butterflies and eventually decided to take pictures instead of the pollinators I could find, which happened to be bumblebees and here’s one on a crownvetch (Securigera varia) blossom.

After counting the killdeer and mallards on the river and being stunned to find not a single goose for the first time since I returned home in April, I came back south and look who I found in the grass. Do you recognize this one yet?

At the southern island again, the visitor was as shy as ever, but here it is, a juvenile or female hooded merganser, hanging with the mallards but not quite fitting in.

As I approached the south end, I came across another striking butterfly. Can you ID this one?

Finally, at the very south end, I was able to get my first monarch butterfly picture of the season.

It was very flighty, but it finally landed where I could get a decent picture.

But only one!

I’ve got a couple more presentable pictures, but I don’t want to overload you today, so I’ll save them in case I need them tomorrow.

It was a dark and dreary morning, and the best chance I had for a decent picture were big birds out in the open, so here they are.

At the pond, the wood duck hen with two ducklings was feeling confident enough in their evasive abilities to bring them up onto the west lawn, probably in hopes that I was one of the guys that feeds them. “Sorry, sweetie. That ain’t me.”

In the image above, the duckling on the left is starting to show his male cheek pattern, and the one on the right is not, so my guess is that she’s a female, and her white eyering will come in with her breeding plumage next spring. In any case, here’s a close up of her stretching her wing, which looks like it is starting to grow flight feathers.

There was also a pair of mallards on the pond, of which this is the hen, and when they came up on the lawn, I was surprised to watch the wood duck hen shoe them away from her ducklings, and they yielded. I guess what they say is true: it is not the size of the duck in the fight, but the size of the fight in the duck.

At the north end, we had a Cooper’s hawk fly in and perch for a few moments over the northern island before taking right back off again. That’s nearly the same spot the falcon chose on Wednesday, a clear favorite with raptors.

Coop was too small, perhaps, to spook the ducks on the water, and here’s a mallard hen with two of her three fresh-looking ducklings going about their business as usual.

Meanwhile, another mallard hen with her seven nearly-grown ducklings where busy preening on the shore of the island, …

until something made them all snap to attention, but I never discovered what that was.

Finally, the killdeer must have been celebrating the fourth a bit early because there were ten (10!) of them on the sand bars just northeast of the northern island. Even though most appeared to be just standing around, I couldn’t get them all to stand around together, and this trio, with a fourth in the foreground, is as close as I could get. Oh well. Still a sight to see.

As I mentioned yesterday, I’ve got a meeting this morning, so I won’t be able to visit Estabrook, but my mid-day visit yesterday was so fruitful, I have some pictures for you today anyway.

I had initially thought that being later in the day might afford me some butterfly pictures, and I did see a nice red admiral and probably an eastern comma, but they evaded my camera. Instead, our first ebony jewelwing was far more accommodating.

This contented-looking family of mallards was taking advantage of the sun that did burn through the haze on the lower river. Mom gave me a stern look at first, but soon resumed her own preening.

Meanwhile, the second batch of wood duck ducklings on the pond was down for their nap on the mat of last year’s reeds along the west shore. When I first walked up from the west, I could see a few drakes, in various stages of eclipse, and the hen with two ducklings, all on the fall shore, and I only noticed these cuties, nearly at my feet, as I began to head north in search of them.

The recent usual crowds of Canada geese and mallards, plus a few killdeer and a couple sandpipers, were all on the river at the north end, but I didn’t see any pictures worth taking until I began to head back south and I spotted this infrequent visitor nibbling on the seeds in the tall grass across the gravel road. “Welcome back, Honey!”

It’s always a treat to see a great blue heron, and when they are fishing at the falls its just icing on the cake.

I was very pleasantly surprised to spot this little darling hiding in a crevice in the steep side of the bluff behind the abandoned bridge abutment. “Way to keep cool, my little dude or dudette!”

Finally, as I circled a little stand of milkweed at the far south end, in one final and fruitless push for a butterfly picture, I noticed something big and moving fast out of the corner of my eye. By the time I was able to turn my full attention that way, mom was already deep in the woods, but I was in time to watch her fawn dash after her, and I figured they were gone for good. It must have really been my lucky day, however, because as I crossed the bridge over the ravine on my way back to the soccer fields and home, look who I could just make out through the foliage down below. “Peek-a-boo, little Sweetie!”

It was not as dark and smokey as yesterday morning, but still pretty dark, and I had a meeting at 9am anyway, so I opted to wait until after the meeting to visit Estabrook Park. I didn’t expect to see much, but I thought maybe I’d find some butterflies. Instead, I was reminded that you just never know what you might find.

As I was coming south along the river from the north end, I stopped to check out the large group of mallards gathered on the sandbar that protrudes downstream from the southern island. I spotted this hen with her seven ducklings and thought they might make a nice picture.

Then I couldn’t believe my eyes at who trotted down off the island toward the water, barely a dozen feet in front of the ducklings. Yup, that’s one of the mink I’ve been after for ages, and I cannot identify what it is carrying.

It trotted right into the water, and the mallard hen got quite excited about that.

But the mink never flinched and swam directly to the eastern riverbank, where it disappeared with its cargo. A couple of mallards followed, from a safe-enough distance, for sure, and just to make sure it kept going, I suppose. I had witnessed the same behavior on the pond.

Meanwhile, the hen took a moment to collect herself, …

and then life went back to normal, and you would never know anything had happened if you had just arrived at the scene.

There are plenty more pictures, too, but I’ve got another 9am meeting tomorrow that will probably take all morning, so I’d better hold on to them.

The Canadian wildfire smoke is still here, so I’m staying in this morning, and here are some pictures that I couldn’t squeeze into previous reports.

Here’s the painted lady butterfly from Saturday again, but this time giving us a little glimpse of the dorsal side (top side, seen when wings are open) of its left forewing.

Here’s a picture, also from Saturday, of the wood duck hen on the pond who started with ten ducklings, but had only five remaining by yesterday. I only got four in this picture, but there were others around at the time.

Here’s a little white-spotted sable moth (Anania funebris) hiding under a leaf, which is making its white spots look green, near the little wood satyr on the Solstice.

Here’s another look at the dickcissel from Sunday as it surveys its realm from atop a nesting box from which a tree swallow is peeking out.

Here’s an orange meadowhawk dragonfly (Sympetrum spp.), also from Sunday, and possibly a young white-faced meadowhawk (Sympetrum obtrusum).

Here’s another look at the meadowlark from Sunday, after it was in the tall grass and before it was perched in the tree.

Here’s a tiny summer azure butterfly (Celastrina neglecta) from just before I saw the great spangled fritillary on Sunday.

Finally, here’s a Savannah sparrow from Sunday that looked away just before it flew away. I’ve only seen their distinctive yellow eyebrows twice before, in Estabrook Park, once in April and once in May.

I hope that tides you over, and let’s all hope the smoke disapates, at least a bit, by tomorrow.

Well, the Canadian wildfire smoke is back and thicker than ever, so it was not a great day for taking pictures outdoors. It was a little fun, however, to take a picture directly at the sun a full hour after sunrise, although it did take a couple of tries to convince my autofocus that I really did mean to focus on that glowing orb 94.5 million miles away.

Nevertheless, I did squeeze off a couple of shots, and here’s the wood duck hen on the pond with her five remaining ducklings. It has been a tough spring on the pond for the wood ducks.

Here’s another wood pewee just chillin’ on a branch over the river.

And here’s a mallard hen with her eight, nearly-grown ducklings on the lower river and not waiting around to find out if I’m friend or foe. Can you tell which one is the hen?

And that’s it for today, I’m afraid. Let’s hope this smoke dissipates a bit by tomorrow.

The heavy, wet clouds made it a great morning for sleeping in, but I went to bed nice and early last evening, so there wasn’t much hope for that, and so back to Estabrook Park I went.

Just before I spotted this great blue heron on the river, a mink came hopping up the riverbank towards me, and I thought for a moment it would go right over my toes. I didn’t dare move, but it eventually noticed me anyway and scampered into the water. It was a thrilling couple of seconds, but all I have to show for it is this great blue heron picture. Maybe next time!

On the pond, a commotion in the water attracted this wood duck drake in eclipse plumage, but he ended up not catching anything.

Back at the river, this green heron was more successful and did catch some little morsel.

The big surprise, however, was spotting this peregrine falcon perched in the same tree were we often see osprey, eagles, herons, or even a merlin. I think I’ve only ever seen a falcon perched in the park twice before.

Then the rain resumed, and I didn’t see much to photograph anyway. Instead, here’s a nice family portrait of a wood duck hen and her ducklings on the river from Saturday.

Here’s our first mourning cloak butterfly of the season, also from Saturday. In past years, they’ve often been the first butterfly I see in the spring because they hibernate instead of migrate, but Mother Nature or Lady Luck changed things up this year.

Here’s a young rabbit from Saturday.

Here’s a young robin from Sunday.

Finally, here’s another look at the muskrat from Sunday, but with its tail down this time.

It looked wet and windy outside this morning, so I took my time with breakfast and the newspaper. Then I remembered that Donna, who had shown us the great horned owlet a few weeks ago, had invited me to tag along with her Sunday morning birding group anytime, and today they were going to the Mequon Nature Preserve, which is just a few miles northwest of Estabrook, so I decided to give it a try. Well, what a treat it was.

I arrived a little early and was greeted by this spectacle: a muskrat in a little pond and holding its tail in the air. I figured I’d be able to find an explanation of this behavior online, but all I’ve found so far is other bloggers wondering the same thing, such as Mike and Sue.

Then I heard an odd little chirp, and soon found it was coming from this fancy-looking bird, who happens to be the very first eastern meadowlark (Sturnella magna) that I have ever seen. What a way to start the morning!

Then Donna and her birding group arrived, we set out across the prairie, and it didn’t take the group long to find another striking bird perched in a young oak tree, the very first dickcissel (Spiza americana) I have ever seen. Talk about being on a roll!

As we approached one of the “hardwood mesic forests” in the preserve, this amazing creature fluttered into view and landed nearly in front of me. It is a Virginia ctenucha moth (Ctenucha virginica), and it is the first one I have ever seen! I read that it is pronounced “ten-OOCH-ah”, and the name was coined by William Kirby from the Greek meaning “having a comb”, a reference to the showy antennae of some species. Will wonders never cease?

A few paces from the moth, we found a small frog, and I read that the little ridge of skin that runs from the back of the eye all the way to its rump indicates that it is a northern green frog (Lithobates clamitans melanota). I can’t say for sure that I’ve never seen one before, but I’m pretty sure I’ve only ever seen bullfrogs in Estabrook Park. Sweet!

Then, before I could even take a step, someone in the group had already spotted this cutie, the very first clay-colored sparrow (Spizella pallida) I have ever seen. I’ve had dreams that go like this!

There were a lot of familiar voices in the forest, but nothing I could get a picture of, and we were soon through it and back out into a big field being slowly converted from farm to prairie. We hadn’t gotten very far before this stunner flitted into view and stopped to soak up a little sun or moisture from the soil. It didn’t stay long, but I did manage to get this picture which is enough to identify it as a great spangled fritillary (Speyeria cybele). I’ve seen a silver-bordered fritillary (Boloria selene) in Craters of the Moon National Monument and a variegated fritillary (Euptoieta claudia) in Yellowstone, but this is my very first great spangled.

I did finally get some pictures of familiar faces. Here’s an eastern bluebird, …

and here’s a yellow warbler.

We eventually had to hike back to the parking lot, and Donna asked about where I had seen the meadowlark, so I pointed out the spot, but the bird was nowhere to be found, of course. Then, as we were all chatting about upcoming events, look who showed up to make an honest man out of me. In fact, there were two of them, and one ducked right down into the grass while this one waited nearby in a little tree with a beak full of bugs. After it let me get this picture, it joined its mate in the tall grass and probably stuffed all those bugs into hungry little beaks.

Finally, as we all began preparing to leave, the young killdeer I had seen earlier also reappeared, and you can see that it is half-sized, at best, compared to its blurry parent keeping an eye on things in the background.

Now that’s what I would call a successful outing, wouldn’t you?