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The adult eagles are on and off the nest, bringing food to their two eaglets.  They’re never very far away, keeping watch, keeping their little ones safe.

Look at the difference in the talons in these next two pictures. Aren’t they amazing?

So how do they manage to keep from harming their own chicks.  By curling them, when they walk on the nest themselves.

Feeding the eaglets is a full time job right now!

Every time I go lakeside, I can hear them crying for attention.

I bet the poor parents are tired!

The view from the back side of the nest isn’t as clear as from the front.

Especially since the eagles have done some rearranging and seem to be moving large sticks to that side as the eaglets get bigger.

Even after all these years, I still manage to record a new-to-me behavior!  They’re amazing creatures!  Graceful in flight. Great parents. Strong builders.

I’m very grateful to have the opportunity to study them year round, and to use that research in Mystery of the Eagle’s Nest, as well as sharing my nature adventures with campers and readers all over New England.

I can’t wait to see what eagle adventures I witness this coming summer!

Today, after teaching, and after starting a large order for the campground store, I grabbed my camera and headed to the lake.  No sooner had I pushed off shore, I spied a loon fishing halfway across the lake.

I drifted toward it, as I fiddled with my camera to get just the right settings for a slightly cloudy, slightly sunny day.  Suddenly, it popped up beside the kayak.

It stretched, and dove and stretched again.

And I must say, this is how I feel to finally feel the sun on my shoulders and the warm breezes on my face.

It took quite awhile, but I spied the nest, too.  Our loons have chosen a new nesting spot, and I must admit to being a bit relieved.

They haven’t had chicks in two years, and my fingers are crossed that this new nesting site will be a good one for them.

Only time will tell.

The manuscript for Mystery of the Missing Fox might be in my editors hands for review, bu that doesn’t mean the research stops.  Especially when it involves fox kits.

There are five in all, from what I can tell.  I sit in the woods, 100 feet from the den.  And at first, they stare at me, trying to figure if I’m friend or foe.

When I don’t move closer or make any noise, they relax a bit.  But they always know exactly where I am.

Once they feel safe again, the research and fun starts, and I raise my camera.

At first, the kits approach their brothers and sisters very innocently.

They might even give a friendly hey-you-sleeping tap of the paw.

And the next thing you know, they’re nibbling each others ears!  Or feet. Or tail.

They roll around on the ground, no noise, no squeaks or growls that I can hear.  Which is good, since their mother isn’t in the area to protect them from predators.  (She was either out hunting, or watching me, watch her kits)

Just when one kit seems to be getting the best of their sibling, a third comes to the rescue!

When the play has wound down, the kits curl up together. No hard feelings on either side. That’s my cue to go.

I hope the best for this year’s litter.

Stay safe little ones.

Photographing Ruby-Throated Hummingbirds has become a bit of an obsession.  I sit on the front lawn by my honeysuckle bush for an hour here, and an hour there, hoping for the chance to snap a photo or two.

But they’re so darn quick!

At first I could only get photos of them sitting on a branch.

But then I graduated to some flight photos.  They still aren’t as clear as I’d like, but I’m hoping to learn as I go.

Did you know these delicate creatures weigh less than a penny??

Their hearts beat 600+ times per minute!  The normal beat for an average bird is 200!  For a human it’s 72.

And they need to feed every ten minutes or so to keep their energy level stabilized.

The way they feed, is by licking nectar three times per second. Try that with your next ice cream cone!

They’re fascinating in so many ways!

I thought you might want an eaglet update.  They’re growing very quickly!

And holler?  Oh my, can they holler when they’re hungry!

The eagle parents are sticking closely to the nest these days. For some reason, the geese make them crazy; flapping their wings, throwing their heads back and giving the danger call until the geese move out of the area.

When the adult eagles move from side to side in the nest, the eaglets pull themselves across the nest after them, by using their wings and beak.

These two little ones are big and strong. We’re going to have fun watching them grow this summer!

As I walked to the lake yesterday (without boots!) I could hear the unmistakeable cry of an eagle.  I hurried, hoping to see the adults switch places on the nest.  Or maybe get a glimpse of them bringing food back.

But when I got there, the nesting eagle was alone.  Every couple of minutes, it threw back its head to give the squeaky, danger-in-the-area call.

I kept waiting for the mate to fly in, as they usually do, to holler in duet against the danger.  For twenty minutes, I waited, with one eye on the sky.

The eagle continued to cry, even though I couldn’t see what had upset it so. The loons weren’t in the area.  Nor crows or seagulls.  The osprey didn’t appear to be hunting either.

Suddenly, I heard the flapping of a large wingspan.  Looking straight up, I realized a juvenile eaglet had been over my head, hidden in the branches of a big pine the whole time!  It flew down the shoreline, only to circle around and come back again.

I never did get a good picture of the juvenile, as he soared over the trees I was standing under. I would have kept camera-hunting him, but the black clouds had arrived to let loose a steady stream of big, fat raindrops.

I still have no proof of the eggs hatching, but this eagle did seem to be sitting a little higher on the nest.  I’ll check again tomorrow to see what I can see!

Today, my husband and I walked from the Eastern Prom (ME), to the Old Port along a bike/walk path.  Casco Bay was on one side of us, the Narrow Gauge Railway on the other. The sun shone down, the birds were singing, kids rode bikes, joggers passed by and the seagulls called out.

It was a glorious day!

Mockingbird singing a happy song from a low branch as people passed by.

Sailing school is in session!

The Narrow Gauge Railway had quite a few passengers.

My husband geo-cached, but I could hear the call of the osprey.  So I searched high and low. Finally, I found them. They were quite a ways away, but I had my camera on me.

Check out this nest!  All the rope mixed in with the sticks.

The one on the nest was hollering like crazy, and I soon figured out why.  Another osprey wanted the nest.

They dove and danced in the air.

Until one of them claimed the platform for themselves.

Even so, the osprey who’d been kicked out, circled overhead for quite awhile, crying out to anyone who would listen.

Lucky for me, it was almost over my head

It looked to me, like he still wasn’t too happy about it.

Yesterday, as I walked the red-blazed trail through the campground and along the shoreline of Lower Range Pond, I looked out over the water and gasped!

My loons were back!

The ice had only been out for a day!  Somehow, they always manage to time it perfectly.

The pair called back and forth, location calls.  My eyes got teary hearing them, I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed it.

Whenever their call rings out, people stop what they’re doing to turn toward the sound.

Hopefully, we’ll have a successful nesting season this year, as the last two years did not yield chicks. ( If you click on the Random Loon Tag on the right of this post, you’ll find the blog posts describing why.)

I should be revising, channeling fox kits for book three, as the Mystery of the Missing Fox  is due to my editor next month.  But the sun has just poked its way through the clouds and I cannot resist going down to the lake to find these gorgeous birds and to hear their call again.

The manuscript will be there when I get back.

Yesterday, the weather turned glorious! Warm breezes blew over the still frozen lake, as birds chirped from every corner of the forest.

I took a long walk along the shoreline, camera slung around my neck, ready to shoot.

And I wasn’t disappointed.

I was just in time to watch the eagles switch places sitting on the eggs.

And this time, the departing eagle flew right over my head!

Only two or three minutes passed before the eagle left on the nest hunkered down for their watch over the little ones.

Lately, there’s been a pair of seagulls who soar high overhead the small patch of open water on the lake.  The eagles don’t like this, not at all!  The one on the nest will call out, and the mate flies in to help protect the family.

Such good parents!

April vacation arrives soon. And with it, my walks will increase.  My notes from 2014 tell me that the eaglets were born right around April 18th, so you can bet I’ll be down at the lake as often as I can!

And I’ll keep you posted too.

Somewhere around March 24th, the eagle pair settled in on their eggs.

Look at that smile!

Each egg was laid three days apart and thirty-five days from then, chicks will be born.  Both adults take turns sitting on the nest, and they’ll turn the eggs approximately every two hours.

After the eggs are laid and the eagles start their long sit-in, or as I like to call it, a snuggle-in, I will always see one on the nest. They won’t leave those eggs alone. They’ll keep them warm and dry and safe to predators in the air, such as ravens. Or predators from down below, like raccoons.

When I trudge to the lake now, through the 6 inches of snow which lays over most of the campground, I can count on seeing the one on the beautiful nest they built.

Eyes to the sky though, I’m looking for the mate not on the nest. And if I’m lucky, I’ll witness something amazing like this . . .

One eagle bringing sticks to the nest, adding on to the castle, so to speak.

Or a juvenile, soaring overhead, but not daring to come near.

A hawk looking for its next meal.

But what I’m most anxious for, is eaglets.

It won’t be long now.

December 2014

March 2015

Can you see the diffference?  And today, there were even more branches on the nest!  Ice fisherman told me the eagles had added to it all morning long.

The eagles are getting ready to lay their eggs!

I’ve snowshoed down every day, hoping to see the tell-tale sign, of one eagle, nestled in the nest.  When she does, we’ll only see the very top of her white head. Last year, she was sitting on eggs March 8th.

Until then, the eagles continue to visit the nest and add to it.

Last week, I was fortunate enough to escape to Florida for a few days.  Some of that time, was spent taking my son on college campus tours.

But the rest of the time was spent walking Sanibel beaches and paths with my camera.

Soaking up sunshine.

In my bare feet.

Pelicans were the bird of the week for me.  Every time I turned around, they were there.

But I also saw an Anhinga, drying its wings by the side of the road.  They dive like a cormorant, but their markings are more stunning.

Quite to my surprise, I caught a great photo of a Pileated Woodpecker, who was skirting the woods near the beach.

I took sunrise photos

And sunset photos, all in the same day.

But I think my very favorite photos, were those of a little Western Sandpiper, taking a salt water bath . . .

Because he looked like he was enjoying it so . . .

I haven’t even begun to wade through the hundreds of photos I’d taken while on Sanibel.  Stop back again, because I’m sure to have another batch to share . . .

These are the months where I have the most time to play with my camera, but the subject matter is limited.  My loons have gone to the coast.  The eagles roam, not yet tied to a nest full of chicks, the heron has migrated, turtles are buried deep and the fox kits are just a gleam in their parent’s eyes  . . .

So I turn to my backyard chicks.  If they were my children, they’d roll their eyes at the number of times I stand in my little front yard with my biggest lens trained on their feeders.  You can almost hear them say, “Really?  Really?  Isn’t that a little bit of overkill there? Go find a snowy owl for goodness sake!”

But it’s more challenging than one would think.  Over the last couple of days, whenever I was stuck in my manuscript, I’d take the camera outside for a few minutes.  Then at night I’d pour through the photos to see what I’d caught.  From the five hundred I took over the last couple of days, perhaps twenty to twenty-five were salvaged.  Ten of those are sharp and crisp.  Some I wish I had do-overs for . . .

Grand Central Station

Right before a storm is best.  The feeders are a hub-bub of activity, the birds almost don’t pay me any mind at all as they choose their seeds.

Finches devour the seed, leaving a chickadee waiting in the wings

Emotions are high on these days . . . . everyone wants their turn at the feeder.

Wait your turn!

Downy Woodpecker

Mourning Dove with snow for a hat

Focusing and shooting birds who are perched and chowing down is fun, but I longed for a bigger challenge.  Incredible photos.

Flight photos.

So I turned my camera on my newest feeder, a shiny glass ball, where the flight in and out was constant.

Well, almost constant.

With a little guidance from my husband, the photos became sharper and more interesting.

But there were still a lot of photos I had to cut, interesting photos, but not clear enough, crisp enough to save.  I had to take comfort in the knowledge that I could try again another day.

Last night it hit me, for me, revising a manuscript is a lot like revising my photos. For every 1,000 strings of words, perhaps two hundred make the cut. Some need a little sharpening and re-focusing from a editor.  Some are put aside as a maybe.  Some you never need to touch, perfect in their rawness, from the minute you first wrote the words. Some are junk and just have to go.

Add color and substance here.  Move a chapter there.  Try to find the very perfect combination of contrast, exposure and depth . . . .

And cheekiness . . . .

As I approached our lakefront last week, I spied an adult eagle soaring overhead.  I ran, camera in hand, which isn’t easy to do!  And I made it just in time to point and shoot . . .

praying the settings were good enough.

Such a graceful landing!

This adult appeared to be checking out the nest, looking down upon it several times before flying off again.

Can you tell how excited I am that we’ll have eaglets to watch again this year!!

Loving Christmas break from school for many reasons, but mostly for the many long walks through the woods I’m allowed.

Santa brought me a new trail camera, so I’ve put the old one down by the beaver hut, since they’re so elusive and it’s pretty obvious they’ve been working hard on the den lately.  Of course, once I put it there, I’m not content to just let it sit, I have to hike down every day to see what images it’s caught.

While I was there yesterday, I heard the call of the eagle.  The dead tree they like to sit in is very close to the beaver hut, but can’t be seen by line of sight.  Even if I hadn’t heard them, I would have known they were there, because I could see cars stopping on the causeway to get a look.

So I waited.  And waited. And after fifteen minutes, I got my wish.  I’m sure my gasp of surprise could be heard across the lake!

This adult was headed toward the nest, quite a ways from the beaver hut!  They were adding to the nest!

I could see a speck of white on the nest, which told me the other adult was waiting patiently for this addition.  Or perhaps its an offering?  A sign they were agreeing to reconnect?

But alas, halfway to the nest, the eagle began to drift downward, the weight of the stick was too much.

Once again, I gave thanks for my long lens.  Those of you who are familiar with Lower Range Pond, know how great the distance is from from the beaver hut to the golf course side.  I was able to watch as the eagle tried to keep a hold of its prize.

But alas, he couldn’t do it.   I picked up a four foot stick that lay on top the beaver hut and felt the weight of it in my hand.  I was amazed the eagle carried a stick that large for as far as it did!

He bit it.  He moved it back and forth.

He thought about it for quite a bit.

When the second adult called from the nest, he decided to abandon it in favor of joining his mate.

I hurried down the trail, hoping to catch them both on the nest with my camera, and managed to take this one shot.

I know from experience that mating doesn’t happen until March.  But this is a sure sign the process has begun.  And even though I’ve seen, documented and reported the ritual many, many times, I still get teary when I realize they’re going to start another family in my backyard.

The campground is silent, blanketed in our first snowfall.  Today I walked my trail, the first human footprints made.  I say human, because I could see where the fox had trekked ahead of me.

It was a beautiful walk, although I didn’t see any wildlife to take photos of until I returned to my own front yard, where the birds were feasting on the sunflower seeds I’d put out before I left.  I caught these images of a chickadee digging into one . . .

First he peeled the outer layer

When my camera made its clicking sound, he looked right at me, as if to say, “Mine!”

Then he went back to it, checking me out every so often to see if I was still there.

Eventually he pulled the meat out.

I thought he’d swallow it whole, but no, he put it back between his feet and proceeded to have his Thanksgiving dinner.

And as he swallowed the last bite, he looked back up at the feeder, wondering he had room for seconds.

I hope everyone had a wonderful and safe Thanksgiving.  May the weeks and days leading up to Christmas be joyful.

It was late twilight, and I was walking the red-blazed trail that follows the shoreline, when  I saw two figures moving toward me from the middle of the lake.   I hid behind some brush thinking they were ducks, but wanting a closer look.

Mind you, I had no monopod. The camera lens was fully extended. Not the most ideal conditions for taking wildlife photos.

As they got closer I gasped in amazement.  The very creatures I’d been trying to capture on camera since late summer, in person and on the trail camera were moving toward me!

I snapped several photos and had to edit them heavily, but this is what I got!

Oh, how I wish they’d come out to play in the daytime!

My elusive Kingfisher.

After an entire summer of chasing him all over the lake, he finally came to me, flying across the top of the water, and landing in the branch above me.

He posed for quite awhile, chattering at me twice.

I’d like to think he was saying, “Have a nice winter. See you in the Spring.”

Like most of you, I took advantage of the gorgeous sunshine and warm temps this weekend . . . .

sneaking out of the office and out of my writing duties to get on the lake both mornings.  Sunday morning, I managed to push off shore at 6:30am and the view looked like this.

Heavenly.

As I meandered through the cove next to our swimming area, I heard the soft hoot of a loon on the other side of the eagle’s island.  They were still here!

I paddled silently to find two of them, swimming around each other, hooting and fishing. Before I had a chance to raise my camera, one took off down the lake, circled above us, then flew off to another location.

The one remaining, looked at me curiously.

I remember the first time I saw a fall loon, with its white face and neck.  I thought it was sick. Or old.

Of course, it’s neither.  They are simply  molting, getting rid of worn and frayed feathers so they can grow stronger, new feathers.

This is why we see them preening so much in August.  These new feathers will keep them warm in the cold ocean waters, where they will spend the winter.

Oh, how I’ll hate to see them go . ..

But at least I have the thousand photos I took of them, while they were here, to help pass the time until they come back next May.

Saturday morning, I rolled out of bed, and fumbled for my sweatpants and sneakers.  Running my fingers through my hair, I glanced out at the pre-dawn darkness, then at the  thermometer.  I chuckled.

Forty-four degrees.

I might have crawled right back into the warmth of the bed covers, but I had a kayak date.  When the first drips of coffee began plopping into the camp office coffee pot, I heard a gentle knock on the front door and looked to see Cindy Lord’s smiling face peeking through the window. I let her in to choose her favorite kayak paddle and life vest.

“The sky was awfully pretty as I drove over the hills of Rt. 26,” she said. So I hurried, screwing the lid on my stainless steel coffee cup and hoisting my camera bag over my shoulder. Checking one last time for my kayak key, we headed out the front door, locking it behind us.

We talked and walked.  Rounding the last corner before the lake front, my breath caught.  Cindy hadn’t exaggerated. The sky was glorious.  I wasn’t even a foot off shore with the kayak, when I lifted the camera from my bag and began shooting.

Cindy led the way past the eagle’s island to our favorite sunrise viewing spot.

I sipped my coffee and watched the new-day sun, slowly rise over the treetops.

Basking in its glow, Cindy asked, “Where to next?”  We decided to continue on, down the shoreline until we glided into my favorite cove.  I was looking for deer, or the muskrat, or a loon.

What we spied through the fog and shoreline shadows, was a heron, wading through shallow water.

It stood perfectly still for the longest time.  From a distance, it could be mistaken for a bare branch. But I knew what I was looking for.  They’re one of my favorite subjects to photograph.

Cindy and I took a few photos.  Silently paddled a little closer.  Took a few photos. Paddled a little closer.

Suddenly, the heron lunged downward like a lightening strike.  He came back up with a fish!

Oh, how I wished he wasn’t behind the fog and in the shadows!  Getting a feeding shot was on my bucket list of subjects . . . the photo above was okay, but not the bright, clear, striking photo I longed for.

Then the heron spread his wings, and took flight to land on a nearby branch.

He rubbed his beak on the tree branch, cleaning it off after breakfast.

This branching pose was a first for me!  While he sunned himself, I took photo after photo after photo.

Cindy and I were in awe.

Mornings like this are always so much more special when you have friends to share them with.

Slowly we paddled back.  It was time for me to open the store and then we had a special event to attend; lunch with Patience Mason before her book signing at Books N Things in Norway.

What an awesome day . . . Good friends, good weather and good food.

Couldn’t ask for more.

Cindy Lord met me on the porch of my campground office at 5am last Friday morning.  After I made a pot of coffee and filled my stainless steel cup with the hot, dark liquid I craved at that time of day, we trekked to the lake to put our kayaks in the lake.

We were in time to witness the dancing mist on the water and the rising sun over the trees.

I looked for muskrats, herons and wood ducks.  But as is often the case with Cindy and I, it was a loon we saw first.  I can’t remember the last time we were together and we didn’t see one.

A second loon flew overhead a few moments later. We watched as they two of them  greeted each other for a few minutes before swimming off down the lake.

Cindy and I traveled the same path as the pair, talking, sharing author-ly stories and just plain catching up on life.

Until we were rendered speechless by the sight of an adult eagle in the distance.

At first, he appeared to be sitting in peace.  But the caw of a crow told a different story.

It didn’t take long to see the eagle was being harassed.  The crow called and buzzed him until eventually, the poor eagle took flight to escape.

He landed in another tree, closer to us.  The crow wasn’t giving up that easily though.

A second crow joined the first.  The eagle looked out over the lake regally, appearing to ignore them as best as he could .

But even the mighty eagle can only take so much.  The crow buzzed the eagle one too many times . . .

until the eagle spread his wings and fell off the branch,

It was the most beautiful thing to see . . .

his wings filling with air and the eagle lifting up to the sky . . .

soaring . . .

down along the lake toward the campground.

Cindy and I looked at each other and grinned, before picking up our paddles to follow its path.

Cindy Lord met me on the porch of my campground office at 5am last Friday morning.  After I made a pot of coffee and filled my stainless steel cup with the hot, dark liquid I craved at that time of day, we trekked to the lake to put our kayaks in the lake.

We were in time to witness the dancing mist on the water and the rising sun over the trees.

I looked for muskrats, herons and wood ducks.  But as is often the case with Cindy and I, it was a loon we saw first.  I can’t remember the last time we were together and we didn’t see one.

A second loon flew overhead a few moments later. We watched as they two of them  greeted each other for a few minutes before swimming off down the lake.

Cindy and I traveled the same path as the pair, talking, sharing author-ly stories and just plain catching up on life. Every now and then, we’d run into the loons again . . .

We’d snap a few more photos and chat again until we were rendered speechless by the sight of an adult eagle in the distance.

At first, he appeared to be sitting in peace.  But the caw of a crow told a different story.

It didn’t take long to see the eagle was being harassed.  The crow called and buzzed him, until eventually, the poor eagle took flight to escape all the noise and hubbub.

He landed in another tree, closer to us.  The crow wasn’t giving up that easily though.

A second crow joined the first in making the eagle’s life as miserable as possible.

All the while, the eagle looked out over the lake regally, appearing to ignore them as best as he could .

But even the mighty eagle can only take so much.  The crow buzzed the eagle one too many times . . .

until the eagle spread his wings and fell off the branch,

It was the most beautiful thing to see . . .

his wings filling with air before lifting up into the sky . . .

soaring . . .

over hour heads . . .

then down along the lake toward the campground.

Cindy and I smiled at each other, much as I imagined Cooper and Packrat do, before we  pickied up our paddles to follow the eagle home, to the campground.

I witnessed the most incredible wildlife-happening Saturday while paddling in from the loon count.

As I made my way past the eagle island, I heard a ton of commotion.  The eaglets were both on the nest, screeching at one another.  Wings flapped as they moved around the nest and to the branches just above it.  I lifted my camera to get a better look.  One of the eaglets lifted off the nest, and flew rather clumsily to land on a branch of a nearby tree.

I could tell there was something in his talons . . .

Above and to his right, the sibling eaglet screamed in frustration from the nest.

It took a minute, but this one finally won the battle of the fish.  I’m guessing that what I missed, was an adult swooping in to drop off breakfast.

Obviously, this one didn’t want to share.

I looked at my watch, and realized I had fifteen minutes to get to shore, lock up my kayak, trudge uphill, and open the store for business.  I’d lowered my camera to do just that, when WHOOSH -

a blur of brown and white buzzed by the eaglet with the fish, causing him to drop his prize.

An osprey?  The adult?

Again, I lifted my camera, using it like binoculars and gasped to see this juvenile had landed on the branch next to the eaglet.

Since it takes almost 5 years for a juvenile to gain their white head and yellow beak, I’m thinking this one is 3 – 4 years old.    Dare I suggest it’s one of the triplets from a couple years ago?  There was that one eaglet who just didn’t seem to want to leave the nest . . . not even after it had collapsed.  We called him “the baby”.

Anyway, all the hullabaloo started all over again.  The eaglet that lost the fish, screamed at the juvenile.  The eaglet in the nest, shrieked down at both of them, while the juvenile let them both have it.

Oh, it was loud!!

But it was about to get louder.

The adult arrived, buzzing the juvenile, who promptly jumped further into the branches of its tree.

Meanwhile, the adult landed on top the highest point of the island, and hollered down at the juvenile.  More than hollered, she meant business.  It was a call I’d only heard when the osprey buzzed the nest or the heron flew too closely.

She was not pleased with this newcomer.

Neither were the eaglets who were still making noise of their own.

I just sat in my kayak and chuckled at the whole thing.

Finally, the adult had enough.  She took to the sky.

. . . and  buzzed the juvenile until he was on the run.

Behind me, the eaglets had gone silent. All I could hear was the two of them screeching, as the adult chased  the juvenile to the other side of the lake . ..

Ooooooo, she was relentless.

The last of my photos have these two as brown dots in the sky.  She chased this one away, across the lake, over the golf course and well over Middle Range Pond, before I lost sight of them.

This was an experience I’ll never forget.  Awe-inspiring.  Nature at its finest.

And after all that, I still managed to open the store on time. Although the first hundred customers of the day had to patiently listen to me tell my story over, and over and over again.

Have you ever seen a loon yawn??

I have!

The loon didn’t make a sound, as he gave the long, slow yawn, that ended with his closing his eyes and drifting away from me.

I kayaked away, as quietly as I could.

Sometimes, the best photos and wildlife inspiration comes from my front yard . . .

This yellow-ish woodpecker has been at my feeder all spring and summer.  It has recently found a mate (not yellow) and has been feeding her at the feeder.  It’s so cute.  I’m hoping to catch them on camera together.

Then of course there’s my orioles, who are still hanging around, even though they no longer seem interested in the oranges.  I hear their distinctive call when I’m down by the lake, or on the front lawn.

Talk about posing pretty! This Rose-Breasted Grosbeak has been to the feeder only a handful of times, but I really enjoy watching him when he does. I didn’t realize they sing day and night, even while sitting on their eggs!

One of my campers gave inside info on where to find this nesting Nuthatch pair!

Look what was brought for dinner!  *shudder*

And today, at first glance, I thought the cardinal was back. But no, it’s a purple finch!

Such a colorful selection of birds on my front lawn this year.  More species than I think I’ve had in the past.  The difference?  I moved the feeders from hanging in the windows against the house, to posting them on the front lawn.

Now, I must get back to my Cooper and Packrat’s third adventure!   I think I’d better close the curtains though – the feeders are such a distraction!