Saturday, January 9, 2010

The End. . . and Back.



The Beginning:
I arose at 7 this morning to make the long trek to Montauk in pursuit of hauled out seals.  Certainly if seals is what I wanted, I could simply drive the 15 minutes to Cupsogue, but Montauk would afford much better views, and the avian life out there would be considerably better - or so I thought.  On my way to the beach I walked down a 4X4 access road which joins up with a hiking/horse trail.  At the head of this trail is a sign that specifically says "No vehicular access beyond this point".  Well, some people don't like to follow the rules, and this is what happens when you don't:




I would have loved to have been on the receiving end of that phone call at the towing company and considering the remoteness of the location, the truck must have been sitting there stuck for quite some time.  If only he had looked at some aerial's before making his venture, he would have seen that the trail is always flooded there.  I also found it interesting that the truck had this bumper sticker (not sure what the meaning is):




The wind was out of the NW and that made for a very rough north shore with white caps everywhere.  There would be no seals this morning, so birds got my attention.  Unfortunately, aside from the gulls meandering the winds above and several hundred ducks in Oyster Pond, the only birds I saw before I reached the Point on my hike was a dead Northern Gannet (at least it offered a close up view of a fascinating pelagic bird) and a dead Common Eider Drake.  I couldn't help but think about all the miles both of these birds traveled from their breeding grounds to spend their winters in the relatively warm Hamptons, only to meet their demise.  After I got to the point I decided not to spend too much time photographing the many Common Eider as I already had plenty of their photos and wanted to push on in pursuit of other species, but I couldn't resist this female trying oh so hard to get in a meal.  The surging waves gave this Eider a lot of trouble, but she seemed to be a pro.  As soon as the surge would start she would change positions to ride out the wave, then use her feet and tail as a rudder when the water was drawn back out and steer her beak back to the algae on the rock to continue eating.






The Southside:
As I continued on my 6 mile hike, I started to question the wisdom of trying to walk along the cobble beach which is rather unforgiving and can be daunting at times compared to the nice sand trails found elsewhere on Long Island. I kept hoping for a reward - a surprise - something I wouldn't get otherwise, and then I heard the unmistakable peep of the Purple Sandpiper:



This was my first encounter with this species, a unique wintering shorebird as it has the northernmost wintering range of all the North American shorebirds.  This corresponds with it being the shorebird that breeds at the northernmost location in North America, at the upper reaches of the Canadian Arctic.  There classic habitat and behavior is seen here, congregated on rocks in the swash zone dodging waves while busily feeding.  Because of the need to see the incoming waves, so as to not get swept into the sea, the birds never faced me for long, but they still offered some interesting photographic opportunities which I was pleased to take advantage of.




Camp Hero:
When I finally got off the cobble beach and headed up a nice wide dirt road, I was feeling a bit better about not seeing any seals, or interesting seaducks, but was still hoping for something more.  When I turned down a path that cut through Camp Hero I spotted several Black-Capped Chickadees who had no fear of my presence. I stopped on the trail and watched as they flitted from tree branches down to the snow covered ground searching for food.  I'm not sure if this one was eating snow or what, but I was thrilled to get this shot:



The End:
On my return back West, I stopped at the inlet to Lake Montauk in the hopes of seeing some interesting ducks, but all that was around were 2 Common Loons, both at a considerable distance, so my last hope of the day would be Dune Rd. Some interesting things had been spotted in the wetland ditches near Dockers Restaurant in East Quogue (Clapper Rail and American Bittern, both of which I've never photographed) and it's always a good location for Northern Harriers, which are a Threatened Species in the state of New York.  Well, only the Northern Harriers were present, and as usual they were giving me a difficult time.  One of the unique things about this hawk is they have a facial disk similar to owls which lets them hear there prey.  As such, they hunt in a different style than other raptors and often let the wind push them practically sideways over their hunting grounds, making photography extremely tough.  What I have learned about taking this species photo along Dune Rd., is that they hunt both the ocean dunes and the marshes along the fringe of the bay.  Because they utilize both of these habitats, they must cross over the road which is the best chance at getting a shot off and is exactly what happened today.  While it wasn't a perfect scenario, as the sun was BEHIND my subject (thus backlighting it) it was bright enough that I could make the appropriate adjustments in my camera (dialing in positive exposure compensation) to get enough light on my subject.  In my haste I over-did it, but was able to recover the proper exposure in post processing.  I would have liked more shutterspeed to get the details a bit sharper, but for now I'm satisfied.




Saturday, January 2, 2010

Snow? Yes. Snowy Owl? Not so much.




Bonaparte's Gulls
A walk along the ocean gave a reprieve from the relentless wind and gave me a chance of seeing the (a?) Snowy Owl perched on the beach, away from the wind.  Well, no owl, but I did see/photograph some Horned Grebes (at a considerable distance) in the Atlantic Ocean.  I also saw a black and white bird that was sitting on the beach, spot me, then take off straight up into the air and fly away at an impressive speed.  No idea what it was, but quite a few species can be ruled out (Loon, Grebe) because they are not capable of walking onto shore and would not be able to take off like that.  I'm leaning toward either a Dovekie or a Black Guillemot which do have the ability to walk on shore, but I don't know if they can take off straight up in the air like that.  There were several Bonaparte's Gulls hanging out close to sure and not minding my presence, which allowed for some nice close shots of them (still crappy lighting though) compared to the awful photographs I got of them yesterday.  When I got back to my car I was quite cold and cursing my laziness in not properly searching for the Snowy Owl yesterday.


Surprise Northern Harrier
While cruising Meadow Lane I saw on the bay side a Northern Harrier hunting.  I stopped the car and grabbed the camera, only to see that my view was rather "foggy".  Turns out the cold camera, when brought into the warm car, resulted in the glass fogging up . . . I quickly tried to clear off the lens but didn't really have the right equipment and lost sight of the Harrier.  As I continued to drive East along Meadow Ln. in disappointment, I spotted the bird again.  I grabbed my camera and lowered the window (the lens had cleared up) and followed the hawk as it zigzagged across the road going from the Ocean Dune's to the flooded marshes.  At Rd. D it made a pass at a large group of Robins and Starlings that were feeding away, but continued East.  I knew there was a parking area up the road along with an expansive marshland that came right up to the road and figured this would be my only chance.  I got there before the harrier, and as the snow blew in my face I locked onto the hawk as it gave me a quick fly by - the wind pushing it toward me before it used its wings to overpower the natural forces and fly out over the bay.  The lighting was terrible, the shutterspeed was a little slower than I would like, and there is some noise, but these are easily the best Northern Harrier shots I've taken.  




The rest of the morning didn't yield much, some Hooded Mergansers along Sebonac Inlet Rd. (I didn't put any effort into spotting the Black Guillemot) as well a pair of Immature Mute Swans currently feeding in my back yard in Beaver Dam Creek.  Tomorrow's weather looks awful, so I'll have to wait until next weekend.  

Friday, January 1, 2010

A Great Start to 2010




A Good First Sign
Happy New Year to you all.  I started my day at EPCAL in Calverton, with the hopes of seeing a Short Eared Owl which was spotted earlier in the week.  The weather was supposed to be partly cloudy by mid-morning, but it was dreary and cold when I drove around the former air base, not seeing anything.  Trying to make the most out of my morning, I figured I'd check up on the Guillemot as it's been a while since I'd last seen it and I was interested in getting some unique photos of it.  Driving along Sebonac Inlet Rd., I kept my eyes peeled for Bluebirds (which were spotted today again, but unfortunately not by me) and anything else of note, when I heard the unmistakable rattle of a Belted Kingfisher.  It was perched on an Eastern Cedar tree, and as I pulled over to try to photograph it, the female bird (the orange on the breast distinguishes it from the more plainly plumaged male) flew to a sign post, and then to leafless Tree-Of-Heaven, as seen below.  This photo has been a long time coming, as the Belted Kingfisher is one of my (and many photographers) nemisis, so I particularly appreciate the open beak.





Black Guillemot Continues
Bullshead Bay Inlet was placid, flat calm.  Not a hint of wind, but the skies were sadly still dim and overcast.  A few "birders" were down there searching Peconic Bay for the bird, but I knew better.  I parked where I had seen it recently, by the dilapidated bulkhead and set out on trying to put myself in a good position for photography.  I was able to nestle in against the bulkhead, between 2 breached areas which allowed for me to get nice and low and rest my arms and the camera lens on the bulkhead, stabilizing my shots.  The air was so quiet and still I could hear the Black Guillemot slip into the water each time it dived.  Since the light was terrible, I wouldn't be able to improve on the shots I already have gotten of this species, and with it constantly diving, I figured I should try and get some interesting Dive shots, which I was quite successful in doing.  I'm certainly not getting tired of watching this bird, and I hope you aren't either.




Shinnecock Inlet
A trip down to Shinnecock Inlet was sure to produce some Bonaparte's Gulls which I have never seen/photographed before.  This is one of the more attractive Gull species, with its pinkish legs/feet, black sideburns, and diminutive size.  The gulls were feeding in the middle of the inlet (a tease) so I focused on a herring gull that found a sea star to eat which made me quite happy.  Just the other day I had seen a shot (with much better lighting) of a gull with a sea star and thought "how come I never get to see something like that?", well, now I have.  A Bonaparte's Gull gave me a good fly-by (seen below) and there was plenty of activity.  The Bay was flush with hundreds of common Eider and 3 Eiders gave me a nice fly by.  Just when I was about to leave, I checked the NY Bird Listserv and saw a fantastic posting - a Snowy Owl had been spotted on the other side of the Inlet!  I scanned the other side (known as Shinnecock County Park East) and came up with nothing. . . until I noticed what appeared to be a seal hauled out on the rocks just on the north side of the park.  While I wasn't crazy about driving all the way back to Southampton (A 40 minute round-trip drive to get somewhere that was literally 1,000 ft. across the inlet, I had to take the chance and would possibly be rewarded with a Snowy Owl photo.




Seal, Yes.  Owl? Not so Much.
A Common Loon greeted me upon arrival, sitting quite close to the shoreline, while some Red-Breasted Mergansers were a bit more wary.  As I walked further West, what appears to be a Harbor Seal (though it could be a Harp Seal) was hanging out on the rocks, hauled out waiting for some sunshine to warm it up.  While it was a little nervous upon first seeing me, it quickly settled down as I sat still a ways away until it got used to me.  Just when I was about to make a move a few feet toward the water to get some more photographs (I had only taken 3) a truck came rumbling by, keen on seeing the same thing I was looking at, which promptly scared the seal into the water. . . Quite a few seals however were coming up for air in the inlet on the Eastern Side, keeping there eyes and interest on me, but nothing too great, and the lighting was pretty bad so I just watched the Bonaparte's divebomb the water as if they were terns.  As I left, I debated walking South to the ocean and scanning the dunes and snags in hopes of seeing the snowy, but I figured I would have seen it by now, so I headed back to the bay side and watched the seal who had been scared off swam about 3 feet from the shoreline debating if it should haul out again or not (it didn't).  As I write this, I see a report that the Snowy Owl was still present at 3:15, about an hour and change after I left.  I need to stop being so lazy when it comes to this. . . Hopefully the bird will be there tomorrow.  Here's a shot from December 1, 2008 of a Snowy Owl (my first and only encounter) at Rd. I on the West Side of the Shinnecock Inlet.  Can't wait to see what tomorrow (and the rest of the year) brings!




And a few more images from today:



 A Herring Gull with its hard-won meal



Three Common Eider Drakes.  The first 2 are in "Eclipse" plumage while the last one is in Breeding Plumage 





Black Guillemot with picture perfect diving form





And now showing off the red legs - Notice how far back they are set on the bird.