Hoodies in the NWR

Last week I trekked out to the local wildlife refuge to follow a report of Great Horned Owl owlets that were about to leave their nest.  I went out with sketchy directions and did not locate them. 
Three days later when I went back out they had fledged and left the nest just hours before I got there.

During my first visit I spooked a pair of Hooded Mergansers in a tide flooded back water along the river. Hoodies are small drab fish eating ducks with long, narrow serrated bills. They nest in tree cavities and normally keep their distance from people as all wild ducks do.

A hasty retreat.

Yesterday I happened to find my way back to the refuge. The weather was about to turn from bad to really bad but there were scattered sun breaks that made it worth taking a chance on finding the owlets.  I headed out the trail when right there were the two little Hoodies I had seen last week. Completely unconcerned with myself and the camera.

 A stiff breeze from the approaching storm front made is difficult for these little duck to venture out to deeper water to feed. 

Pockets of calm water at the edge of the cattails made cozy little refuges in which they could preen and feed.

As the drake preened  the hen bathed and chased unseen bits of food among the plants.

The crest of the Hooded Merganser can dramatically change the appearance of the drake.  I have often had friends try to describe the Hooded Merganser to me with wild size, pattern and color claims.

Drab and nondescript, this gorgeous little girl shines when she comes out into the light.

Even with a photo in front of me how do I describe this to someone? She looks comical and sculpted.

The weather turned for the worse as forecast and the light quality dropped.  I did find the owlets but the light did not favor them as it did the Hoodies.  

We will do the owls another time.

Repeat Offenders

I have never denied that writing this blog is a therapy of sorts. Sometimes a chance encounter during the day inspires an enchanting story. Sometimes I just get pissed. This one has to be said now.
       
The Pacific Ocean according to Wikipedia is the largest ocean on the planet.
With a surface area of about 63.8 million square miles it is about forty-six per cent of the earth’s surface. For those keeping score that is almost half. 

 (We all know how good the facts are we get from wiki and the quality of the writers who use them to support their arguments so just shut up and sit there while my rant move along.)
  Dozens of countries with millions if not billions of humans all taking a dump at the shore line while scraping and drilling and netting every single resource and organism that can turn a profit.
 But today a light on the horizon, could it be an answer? Yes, and in the news today a United States Federal Judge in the state of Oregon agrees with the brightest minds our government can afford on the topic of salmon restoration.  With all of the issues lined up and scrutinized the answer is clear. From global warming to rising ocean levels decreased salinity increased acidity caffeine, antidepressants, antibiotics, hormones, cocaine and THC in the waters around the world. 

A vile insidious dark culprit has been identified as consuming as much as four per cent of the salmon stock in the Columbia River basin and must be dealt with. No mercy no quarter no more time.

No you did not misread that, 4%.  

4%.
The Sea Lions must die.
http://www.komonews.com/news/local/Judge-rules-Wash-Ore-can-continue-killing-sea-lions-191534291.html

In October of 2012 we traveled through Astoria Oregon headed south. On
the East side of town on Hwy 30  becomes Lief Erickson Drive. At 36th
Street turn into the parking lot on the river side of the highway and
you find a parking with a wild life viewing area sign. So, we pulled in
and took a walk toward the water.   

Just a few seconds into the walk I
could hear Sea Lions barking.

 These are California Sea Lions. They are protected by State, Federal and International laws. Once there was a fear that they as well as the Sea Otters would disappear as the Steller"s Sea Cow had. Remember them? Probably not. They were hunted to extinction within thirty years of being discovered.

 A tag in the right flipper indicates an encounter with a government authorized agency.

 I started taking pictures with reckless abandon and when the excitement
slowed I started to notice the scars on the backs of some of the
animals.

  They were difficult to see with the naked eye but the 300mm lens with
the 18 megapixel sensor thing in the camera suddenly brought the whole story
together in a flash.

 These are the trouble makers in the news for the past decades that eat
the fish at the base of the Bonneville dam further up stream on the
Columbia.

 

Looking closer I realized the float they
were on and near was a giant sea lion sized box trap and the boat that
takes it up to the dam was tied up right there next to another batch of
trouble makers. 

 The sides of this boat are marked "RESEARCH"

 I do not know which method was used to mark these animals. I would assume liquid Nitrogen was used.  Regardless it appears it takes awhile to heal and is itchy.  The numbers on the tags are the same as the numbers branded into their backs.

 The number on the back of this sea lion appears to have healed completely. This is how the government employees will identify which animals are repeat offenders and identified for removal.

 

This is a closeup of the well healed brand. Makes you wonder how old the brand is.

The marks on this Sea Lion appear to be bites from another.

How nice the Sea Lions must think that the stupid
humans tow their living room all the way up to the dam for them. Only to have the same guys start shooting bean bags from shotguns at you as the throw explosive devices to scare you off. THEN when you finally jump up from the icy water on to the float for a well deserved rest after gorging on fat juicily salmon, the door slams shut and you get a
dart in your ass, a hangover, a tag in your flipper and a number branded in you
back. And now marked for death.

Maybe later we will sit and talk about the tens of thousands of nesting Terns and Cormorants that are also protected under State, Federal and international laws being killed by our government just a few mile upstream from this location.  Evil Terns, Evil Cormorants and their dangerous little tiny babies. 

I guess Sea lions are to fishermen as wolves are to ranchers.  Oh were killing wolves too by the way. Again another government program that protects a species until it impinges on another endangered species so a permit is issued to remove individuals to balance. I would say with us using up far more then the lions share (ha-ha) there should be something left over for the wildlife.

 I have offered no solutions so my rant is pretty much useless. Just sitting here bitching.  I understand how complex the problem is and if I can help you understand it maybe the future will have a plan that doesn't keep going circles wasting money and lives. I just though I would put a face on the repercussions of the decision. I am sure the fisheries people take no joy in killing the Sea Lions.

When I as a kid my maternal grand father told me a story about a man looking under a light post for a quarter he had lost, when a second person came upon the scene and helped in the search. After awhile the second person became frustrated and asked the first if he was sure that  he had lost his quarter here. 

He replied "No, I did not but the light is better here."

Sometimes it takes a long time to understand what someone is trying to tell you.

Avalanche

Over the past thirty years I have been fortunate to travel to Southern
Florida and explore most of the easily accessible and well traveled parts of the Everglades and surrounding areas to the East. If you start at the Atlantic Ocean in southern Florida and travel West you pass through a densely packed strip of houses, malls, retirement homes, hospitals and parking lots.  Then it all drops away and there is a sea of flooded grass with scattered islands of trees.  Very few east-west roads cross over into this vast open space, Griffin Road is one that only enters.  On the east side of the "line" it is an asphalt   thoroughfare on the west side it is a two parallel white gravel lines scarring the top of a dike holding the waters of the Everglades in check.

Looking to the South West

Looking to the South East.  The power towers follow the "line".

On my last visit I took a walk on a hot afternoon.  I have walked thousands of miles, we all will if we live long enough. I followed the white scars away from the "line".  The amount of trash was amazing.  No dig here I was just caught off guard.  From the debris I looked mostly like beer drinking fishermen with cigarettes were the most common travelers. Years of trash have accumulated along this path and it doesn't look as if there is an agency or staff that take care of it. It is just a route from point a to point out westerly.   Few bugs no birds as my feet crunched along in the gravel. The area on the right side of the dike was flooded while the left was dry. Both stretch to the horizon covered with tall grass. Occasionally I would hear bird call fro the tall grasses below but saw nothing I could take a picture of, 

Nothing is more emblematic then an air boat in the EvergladesThe channel along the dike is a major avenue for those fast but deafening monsters.

Off in the distance I saw something on the left side of the dike

 

Looking West.

 

 

 

 

Not what I was expecting to see on the edge of the Everglades.

I took my pictures and reflected on what it was or what it meant. A ghost of some forgotten tragedy? Filling a painful void?  I looked around. A flat breeze was doing little to keep the mosquitoes away.  I saw need to continue any further out into the emptiness down the road. I turned back.  As I walked my mind glazed over thinking about what I have just seen. I walked half halfheartedly scanning for animals, bugs or flowers.
I do not remember how far I walked or how far I wandered in thought when suddenly that little monkey-slash-lizard part of your brain deep deep down at the root took control of the whole program .

My body jolted with adrenaline as I saw the alligator off to my left
down below at the waters edge. 

 

There was plenty of room between us and I
felt embarrassed at how startled I as when it's image crystallized and
my ass puckered.  I was in no more danger then as if I were looking at a
dairy cow.  Remind me to tell you my dairy cow story later.

 

I moved around and took pictures of the alligator. It was about six to eight feet long. Look at it's head. At some point in this guys life something munched down hard on the right side of it's head.  The eyes are out of line and the skull is misshapen.  There is also that knob of scar tissue balled out on the head. The alligator was still, was it there when I walked out? How did I miss that? Something that big?  It really bothered me that it as dry. If it wasn't there when I walked out how long would it have taken it to dry when I as looking at Avalanche?  How long had I been out there? I had lost track of time and became UN-nerved. All this time I stared at the alligator, neither of us moved. Without any warning or a sound the alligator gracefully lifted up turned to it's left and slid into the water and stopped with it's tail exposed.  

 So, when you get to South Eastern Florida drop by and e-mail me an updated photo.
Hwy 27 (Orange Drive) and 818 (Griffin Road)

Go West.
Goggle Earth gave me these coordinates.
26° 3' 32" N 80° 26' 57" W
26° 03.5345 N 80° 26.9545 W
26.05891 N 80.44924 W

Tread lightly. Take care out there.

Angry Birds

I have strayed. It has been over eighteen months since my last blog.  In a weird way it was one of those light bulb moment ideas that was a no brainier that went horribly wrong when put in to action. 

                   I went to the dark side, I bought an I Pad.

                               
I have been using computers since the late 80's. Started a HP-PC then tried a Mac in the early 90's.  Did not know at the time Mac had gone to shit after Mr. Jobs had left.  That left a bad impression and I wandered back to the PC's.   I have slogged through desktops, laptops, notebooks, hard drive replacements, power supply replacements, routers, extenders, printers, scanners, Windows 98, XP, Vista 32, Vista 64, 7 basic and then seven pro when M/S so generously “gave” me 7 Pro for the $100 I had to pay the to ask them why the 7 Basic as such a piece of shit.   I actually had a phone conversation in which I was told by a tech support “specialist” that I had to turn the computer of twice a day to allow the electricity inside to take a break, regroup and go back to work when I turned the computer back on.  That surprisingly was not nearly as insulting as when my cable provider repair guy took a cable splitter out of my hand and gently bounced it in the palm of his had and said “ here is your  problem, the splitter is no good, you can tell by the weight, it’s lighter when it is all used up”.  ???   I shit you not.  I have been working with electronics for thirty years, I eagerly passed his diagnosis along to his supervisor as he drove off.  I hate computers.  I digress.

So imagine the moment when you realize you can turn on your I Pad, check and answer your e-mails, check your blog and Flickr stats ( I am a stats whore), catch up on your "words with friends" and read the local news all before the tiny guys in the  laptop can shovel up enough electrons to bring the leviathan to a full head of steam.   Stepping out from the PC fog to a touch tablet was like the landing in Oz and seeing in color. Then there were the APPS!   The I Pad had so many shiny things my fourteen  pound lap heater with a sticky “W” just lost out. Kicked to the corner to collect dust for months, cold and lonely. 

While this electronic platform battle was all going on so did life . I collected thousands of photos and dozens of blog seeds and less time  to write. The last straw came today when my wife told me “no more ANGRY BIRDS until I see the birds from Florida”.  That was thirteen months ago we went to Florida.
So, as warmup exercise to get the “w” and the now sticking “m” limber up as well as the lethargic electrons here is a recap of the last year with the promise to come back from the dark side and get back to getting the blogs out. I have to go back to the PC, make amends and get going.

Angy Birds

 I installed a new fountain this spring.  The first visitor as over joyed and played in the water for hours before another hummer found the oasis.  The our little girl here got very angry.

Airspace over the house is jealously protected.  This Osprey toyed with the crow following it, letting it catch up then darting away.  The crow never had a chance.

Sibling Crow were scuffling on the tide flat while looking for food.   The lack of pigment in the collective feathers may be an indication of a poor diet while still in the nest.

Nobody should mess with these angry birds.

Back patrolling the airspace a Red Tailed Hawk just swooped in and took a mouse that belonged to the crow's territory.  The hawk did not kill the mouse when it caught it. Flying big slow circles over the yard with a screaming mouse in it's mouth the hawk drove the crows in to a frenzy.

Do I look happy?

 Nobody gets to pass for free, even if you are a cousin.  These to crows escort a passing raven out of their airspace.

Should I be happy? I live in a hole in the ground.

It is not the size of the bird in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the bird. 

A lowly Red Winged Blackbird chases after a completely oblivious Bald Eagle the just happened to pass to low over the blackbird.s nest

Not every birds intentions or habits can be understood. 

So with a new year coming fast I guess I should resolve to do better.