Why Evolution is True is a blog written by Jerry Coyne, centered on evolution and biology but also dealing with diverse topics like politics, culture, and cats.
It’s Sunday, and we have a themed bird post by John Avise, this time on the runner-up to the “Most photogenic bird” competition. John’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge his photos by clicking on them,
Runner-up to Most Photogenic Songbird?
Last week I showcased the Northern Mockingbird as the most photogenic North American songbird, in my experience. This week showcases my personal runner-up for this honor: the White-crowned Sparrow (Zonotrichia leucophrys). This species is attractive, relatively tame and very common here in Southern California during the winter months.
Inspired by the contributions of Paul Edelman and John Avise, ecologist Susan Harrison nominates her most photogenic bird, which isn’t a songbird but I’ll allow it. Her defense is indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them. Feel free, if you have good bird pictures, to join the competition.
Western Screech-Owls
They’re not technically songbirds, but they are tiny (5 ounces), eat a lot of insects, live in suburbia, and sing beautifully. I nominate Western Screech-Owls (Megascops kennicottii) for Most Photogenic Songbird in the “Slightly Demonic-Looking” category.
These four Screech-Owls reside in Ashland, Oregon backyards where the homeowners have put out nest boxes. The first two, in adjacent redwood trees, are a father and one of his youngsters. The second two, sitting under the eaves, are a mated pair.
In yesterday’s photo series, John Avise showed us a lot of swell pictures of what he considers North America’s most photogenic songbird, the Northern Mockingbird (Mimus polyglottos). Today Paul Edelman has a different choice. Paul’s caption is indented, and you can enlarge his photos by clicking on them.
I nominate the Yellow Warbler [Setophaga petechia]. For a warbler it is remarkably gregarious and just adorable. The photos speak for themselves.
It’s Sunday, and that means bird photos by John Avise. Today John highlights what he sees as America’s most photogenic songbird. His captions are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them:
Most Photogenic Songbird?
Many songbird species (in the order Passeriformes) are notoriously difficult to photograph because they are flighty, timid, and/or uncommon. However, a few North American songbirds are more photogenic because they are somewhat calmer, more conspicuous, and/or very common, thereby giving many photographic opportunities (even if they may not always be the most strikingly beautiful of species). So, in my personal experience, what is the “most photogenic songbird”? And my answer is…. : the Northern Mockingbird (Mimus polyglottos). This week’s post shows several poses of this conspicuous and widely distributed North American species. And, as a bonus, this species is quite attractive and has a beautiful song. [JAC: you can hear some songs here.]
Perhaps next week I’ll show my runner-up species for most photogenic songbird.
Posing:
Frontal view:
Note the yellow iris:
Showing its cocky attitude:
Posing in flowers:
Another pose:
Taking off:
Flying:
Pair showing off:
Singing:
Fledgling showing off his white wing patches:
Fledgling headshot:
Teenager:
JAC: There are a lot of bird photographers out there. What’s your most photogenic songbird?
Today’s photos of Costa Rica come from reader Leo Glenn. His narrative is indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them:
Here are some photos from my recent trip to Costa Rica. We spent most of our time on the Pacific side in the northwest region, in Guanacaste Province. The Pacific side has more distinct dry and rainy seasons, in contrast with the Caribbean side, which receives considerably more rainfall year round. Although slightly smaller in land area than the U.S. state of West Virginia, Costa Rica boasts 32 national parks, over 50 wildlife refuges, and over a dozen forest and biological reserves. This creates tension, of course, between preservation efforts and ecotourism, which is the country’s largest source of income.
The view from a higher elevation, about 20 minutes from where we stayed.
The local beach, Playa Avellanas, was a short walk from our lodging via a boardwalk that traversed a mangrove swamp, comprised mostly of White Mangrove (Laguncularia racemosa). After an earthquake in 2012, the land along the coast rose one meter, which closed off the mouth of the river, causing the water in the mangrove swamp to stagnate and kill all of the trees (thus the many dead trees in the foreground). A restoration effort was undertaken to restore the area and replant the mangroves. It appears to have been largely successful, though it will be years before the new trees mature and the ecosystem returns to something close to its pre-earthquake state.
The shallow and drier areas of the swamp were populated by several crab species, including the Racer Mangrove Crab (Goniopsis pulchra).
The forested areas on the path to the beach were dotted with numerous small burrows, inhabited by Red Land Crabs (Gecarcinus quadratus), which would freeze when approached, before slowly slinking backwards into their holes.
A juvenile Atlantic Ghost Crab (Ocypode quadrata). They were lightning fast, and very hard to photograph.
Some Brown Pelicans (Pelecanus occidentalis), flying over the beach. There were quite a few more in the line. Apparently, a group of pelicans can be called a pod, a pouch, a scoop, a squadron, or, if fishing as a group, a fleet.
Although colorful butterflies were abundant, I lacked the skill, patience, and hardware to photograph them, unless, as in this instance, I got lucky when one happened to land in the swimming pool. We rescued it immediately, of course, and after a few minutes spent drying its wings, it took flight. Theona Checkerspot (Chlosyne theona).
I did manage one halfway decent photo of an Apricot Sulphur (Phoebis argante).
A Crested Caracara (Caracara plancus), described on Wikipedia as “a bold, opportunistic raptor, often seen walking around on the ground looking for food,” which is exactly what this one was doing.
A nest of Northern Warrior Wasps (Synoeca septentrionalis), in a tree outside our lodging. According to Wikipedia, “It is a swarm-founding wasp that is also eusocial, exhibiting complicated nest structure and defense mechanisms.” The nest was about 30 ft up in the tree, and without a telephoto lens (or a very long stepladder), this was the best photo I could get. Its high location in the tree was a comfort to us, being so close to our rental house. Though not a particularly aggressive species, they are reported to have a very painful sting.
Today we have part 3 of Tony Eales’s safari to Botswana (see parts 1 and 2 here and here, and we have one more to go: from Victoria Falls). Tony’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge his photos by clicking on them.
Safari Part III
Ok, enough elephants and hippos. We all know what WEIT fans are here for: cats and owls.
The first cats were ones that worked at the Sedia Riverside Hotel. One specialised in breakfast clean up, the other in small bird control.
But of course, what you go to Africa for are the big cats. and the first and most wonderful we saw was an adult female leopard (Panthera pardus):
We found out about her position from another safari car and when we got to her position there were at least half a dozen other cars all trying to get a position to see her. She had taken an impala kill into a thick bush and was eating part of it:
When she had had her fill, she came out and lay in the grass and cleaned herself. We were a bit annoyed with one particular safari company that had many cars there and seemed to be coming in far too close and blocking other peoples’ views. Despite all this the leopard acted as if the cars didn’t exist only occasionally looking up briefly when a car restarted its engine. All the cats, leopards and lions, that we saw treated the cars as beneath their concern, unworthy of any attention:
We got the story from some other guides that they believed that this leopard had cubs hidden somewhere. Because our camp was very close by we were able to stay after all the other cars had left and got some great views before she wandered off after sunset, presumably to see her cubs or get water.
The next day we came back early and saw a hyena, presumably attracted by the kill, run off. we went to the thicket but the impala was gone. Then we heard jackals yelping nearby:
We followed their gaze and found the female eating again, this time in high grass. As more cars turned up we decided to head off:
We came back in the afternoon and found a different scene. Now the adult female was laying out on a high mound near a tree. And in that tree was a young male:
The story we gleaned from others was that this male was her cub from last year. He had come to participate in the meal and she had chased him up the tree. He was no longer going to get handouts now that she had new cub. If he moved at all she growled and ran at the tree climbing halfway up the trunk to keep him in place. It was hard not to anthropomorphise his expression as confused and sad as he watched her with fixed gaze as she eventually wandered off:
The next cats we saw was a small pride of lions (Panthera leo), a female, two young male brothers and two cubs. we were the first to spot them and got wonderful views of them playing and interacting:
In the end we saw approximately 30 lions in the trip both in Momei and Chobe and I can’t put up all the shots I got this nice one of a young male in Chobe:
Today’s photos come from evolutionist Jody Hey from Temple University. His narrative and captions are indented, and you can click on the photos to enlarge them.
The coast of Maine offers a lot of beautiful scenery and some great wildlife watching. My visits there are usually in mid-summer, which if you are inland is not the best time of year for watching birds. However, the seaside has lots of visible action year round. On or near the coast, many of the birds are large, and the sightlines have few obstructions, so getting passable photographs can be relatively easy. Below are some pictures taken at Marshall Point, the location of a much photographed lighthouse near Port Clyde, and the island of Monhegan, home to a small community of lobstering folk and artists, and just a 12 mile ferry ride from Port Clyde.
One day I had just finished my picnic lunch and was walking on the beach facing the harbor of Port Clyde, and saw this Great Black-backed gull (Larus marinus) enjoying its own lunch, an Atlantic rock crab (Cancer irroratus).
The tidal range is quite large in coastal Maine, especially further north and east, so the things to see vary widely throughout the day. Here is a Least sandpiper (Calidris minutilla) exploring the barnacles at low tide.
Marshall point is separated from ocean waters only by a few islands, unlike much of the jagged cost of Maine most of which is some distance from the open ocean. This means that Common Eiders (Somateria mollissima) can be seen there year round. In the summer their markings are fairly dull, but in the winter and spring, they are spectacular.
The ferry ride from Port Clyde to Monhegan offers some great opportunities to see marine mammals, including a couple varieties of seals and Harbor Porpoises (Phocoena phocoena):
Monhegan island itself is less than 5 square miles in area, however the majority of it is owned and maintained as wild land by a private non-profit land trust. Visitors are free to explore the beautiful woods and rocky cliffs that dominate the eastern side of the island, as well as eat and shop in the little village. The cliffs also offer great viewing of a variety of coastal and ocean-going birdlife.
Northern Gannets can often be seen from the cliffs (as well as from the ferry). Here is a somewhat blurry adult, and a more in-focus juvenile:
This Double-crested Cormorant (Nannopterum auritus) obligingly flew directly below me at the same time as the waves were crashing:
The cliffs are also a popular nesting site for Herring Gulls (Larus argentatus):
These Cedar waxwings (Bombycilla cedrorum) were also at the Monhegan clifftops one day, though the coastal location was fortuitous as they are a widespread and common species:
And closely things out for Monhegan, I go this lucky shot of a Common Raven (Corvus corax) one day, deep in the spruce woods:
Lastly, a lagniappe (as Jerry would say). Not far from Monhegan and Marshall Point is Eastern Egg Rock, home to the world’s first restored colony of Atlantic Puffins (Fratercula arctica). The story of that restoration is fascinating, and now it is apparently safe for the birds to be seen by tourists during the breeding season (from a boat, that is). I took the boat tour one day a couple years ago, just before the end of the season when there were only a few puffins to be seen, but at least I got a picture:
This photo comes from a frustrated Mark Richardson, who gives us an easier “spot the” photograph. Can you find the goldfinch? I’d call this one “pretty damn easy”, in fact so easy that there will be no reveal.
Since the last couple “Spot the…” posts have been so difficult (for me at least…I couldn’t find the damsel fly or the hermit crab) I thought I’d offer an easy one. This is spot the American goldfinch (Spinus tristis), Washington’s state bird. We put out a nyjer seed feeder (touted as the goldfinches favorite food) and sure enough, we have at least three pairs visiting regularly.
Sunday is John Avise Themed Bird Photo Day, and today we have some favorites of Matthew and me, swallows and swifts. John’s narrative and IDs are indented, and you can click on the photos to enlarge them.
Swallows and Swifts
Swallows (Hirundinidae) and Swifts (Apodidae) are aerial insectivores that spend most of their lives in flight, catching insects while on the wing. Despite their aerodynamic body forms and similarities in behavior, these two families of birds are not closely related, but instead gained this lifestyle independently, via convergent evolution. Nevertheless, in a sense their common names could have been interchangeable, because it is certainly true that Swallows are swift, and Swifts do swallow lots of insects. Altogether, each family has close to 100 species collectively distributed worldwide. This week’s post shows several North American species of Swallows and Swifts.
Today sees the return of Robert Lang, physicist, origami master and, today, photographer. Robert’s narration is indented, and you can click on the photos to enlarge them.
More local animals
The Los Angeles basin is a vast urban/suburban metropolis, but its natural boundaries of ocean and mountains are abrupt with sharp transitions created by water and steepness. The northern boundary is formed by the San Gabriel and San Bernardino Mountains (collectively, the Transverse Ranges) and they rise steeply from many back yards along the range. My studio is about 20 feet from the edge of the Angeles National Forest; this gives rise to many wildlife encounters, both at the studio and on the trails that climb up from the back property line. Most of these pictures are fairly recent.
One from last fall that I’ve been saving for RWP is this California Tarantula (Aphonopelma sp.). Probably a male, because he was out and about; in the fall, the males go on walkabout looking for females (who mostly stay hidden in their burrows):
Then we turn to a couple of reptiles. The Western Fence Lizard (Sceloporus occidentalis) is one of the most common lizards around; just walking down the front steps, I’m likely to see one (although it’s rare that they stay still enough to be photographed). They are highly variable in color, and the same lizard can appear either light or dark. In the morning, they are dark to absorb the sun’s rays; then in the afternoon, after they’ve warmed up, they lighten their skin and their lovely iridescence becomes visible:
I was pleased on a recent hike to see a Blainville’s Horned Lizard (Phrynosoma blainvillii) at an elevation of about 4000 feet. They used to be more common in the San Gabriels, but earlier in the previous century their numbers were reduced by collectors gathering them for the curio trade, and they’ve never fully come back. I really should have taken a wide-angle photo of this one; it would have been a great candidate for the “Spot the …” series, as it was so perfectly camouflaged against the sand and gravel I nearly stepped on it:
Another reptile that I’m glad I didn’t step on was this Southern Pacific Rattlesnake (Crotalus oreganus helleri), who was stretched out across the trail. He was pretty chill, though; didn’t budge as we approached, and so we gingerly stepped past. A nice set of rattles on that one!
We have three kinds of squirrels around; ground squirrels, gray squirrels, and the (introduced) Fox Squirrel (Sciurus niger). The local rattlers are happy to dine on any of them.
We also have both crows and ravens; crows are more common down in the neighborhoods, while ravens like this Common Raven (Corvus corax) dominate up in the chapparal. This one is perched on the top of one of last year’s blooms from the Whipple Yucca (Hesperoyucca whipplei):
Larger creatures sometimes come visit the meadow behind the studio. A not infrequent visitor is the coyote (Canis latrans). Although this one was (barely) within the National Forest, they come far down into the adjacent neighborhoods, where they find plentiful food in the form of dropped fruit, loose garbage, and the occasional domestic animal whose owners ill-advisedly allow them to roam free:
Another frequent large visitor is the California Mule Deer (Odocoileus hemionus californicus). This time of year, the bucks are in velvet, like this one. We had a very wet spring, so there is a lot of browse in the mountain canyons and not much to lure them into the meadow, but in the fall, when the acorn crop starts to fall, they’ll be visiting twice a day:
In much of California, the urban/wilderness interface usually exists in one of two states: (1) recovering from the last wildfire; (2) stocking up for the next wildfire. A year ago we had a relatively small wildfire just across the canyon; fortunately, it was a cool day with not much wind, and the fire crews held it to just a few acres:
I spent the afternoon watching the firefighters dragging hoses for hundreds of yards up the ridges while helicopters and fixed-wing aircraft dropped water and fire retardant. I am in awe of the firefighters, who were clambering up cliffs that I wouldn’t even try to scramble under the best of circumstances, while they were wearing and/or carrying 50 pounds of kit and dragging hoses. Within a few hours, they had things under control. The drifting smoke and red fire retardant gave things an almost surreal appearance as they were mopping up:
That was a year ago. One thing about the chaparral is it recovers quickly from fire (indeed, many plants rely on it), and after this spring’s wet rains, the formerly bare ground is covered in new growth, and the burned bushes have resprouted. They’re getting ready for the next fire, which is bound to happen sometime; it’s the nature of this bit of Nature.
