I went to the local duck pond to follow up on the American Wigeon flock that took residence there in the late fall. The one Eurasian Wigeon in the flock is still among them . . . I'm not sure if he has a mate. There were several obvious couplings in the group, with pairs sticking close together, preening next to each other, and puttering around the pond in tandem. During one of my previous [...]
Here's my segue from Winter Water . . . to the semi-graceful form of winter ducks. The snow is gone, but I still froze my fingers into Rocket Pops, snapping pics of these ducks navigating their own version of tundra. Unlike me, the ducks kept their digits warm, thanks to the ingenious countercurrent circulation system employed in their feet. In short, the capillaries of a duck's feet work with the arteries to modulate foot temperature [...]
Distant Arrival - ©ingridtaylar There's an Eliza Doolittle thing happening at the local duck lake. Hugh and I have been frequenting our neighborhood shoreline on Puget Sound -- a local, private beach where we hold the golden ticket: an access pass. It's a coup really, because a lot of the shoreline is privately held here in Washington. This short strip of beach is a gem. It's the tip of a 10+-acre restored wetlands [...]
There's a wetlands pond not far away, with a group of friendly, habituated Mallards . . . and a small contingent of alert, migrating ducks (this week: Wigeons) who keep to themselves in the shade of the reeds, as far from humans as possible. The Mallards approach any new human. The possibility of food from neighborhood locals is too great for them not to exploit it. When someone does arrive with snacks, mayhem [...]
As we inched our way toward the cranes, I heard the sound that always shatters my serenity like, well, a shotgun. Because it was a shotgun -- very close by. In a clearing across the river, just a hop and a skip from where we were ...
I snapped some shots this morning of a ducks flying overhead. Poor ducks will reverse course sometimes if they see something pointed at them ... like a camera lens. If you make a trip to heavily hunted turf like Gray Lodge or the areas around Cosumnes Preserve, you'll see what skittish really looks like. The slightest footfall will send them flying and scampering. I wish they didn't have to be so terrified. But they do. [...]