The Daily Bucket is a place to catch your casual observations of the natural world and turn them into a valuable resource. Whether it's the first flowers of spring or that odd bug in your basement, don't be afraid to toss your thoughts into the bucket. Check here for a more complete description.
Seattle. August 2, 2011.
There were a number of highlights on today's bird count, but a couple of them stood out.
The marina gate was closed when I arrived at the last count site. I wandered north on the sidewalk, willow and blackberry thickets protecting the lake on one side of me, cars and bikes rushing past on the other. There's a secret path along here, hidden by willow branches, just a hole in the thicket one step off the sidewalk. You have to crouch to slip through. It ends at the water's edge where the cattails begin, where cottonwood and willow frame the view and provide a natural blind.
Pickings seemed slow at first, a bunch of turtles sliding off their logs at my appearance and two sleepy Mallards on the gravel bar where the Canada Goose nested earlier this year. I checked the Mallards to see if they were females or eclipse males. Eclipse males. There was a third bird poised behind them.
August 2, 2011. Juvie Green Heron
The image is about the best my camera can do at a distance, but I'm pretty sure that this is a juvenile Green Heron. It's the second one I've seen in all of my counts. Oddly, I've never seen an adult down here. Green Herons are known to breed up at the reclaimed garbage dump north of the University, so perhaps this young one has worked its way down 10 miles of shoreline to a new place. Perhaps it will stay for a bit. I'll keep watching.
Just after having its picture taken, the Green Heron took off across the cove, crossing paths with a Great Blue Heron that rose up out of the brush with a prehistoric "quuaaaaaakk" and a fish in tow. Great Blue Heron flew to a sheltered place behind the sandbar and dropped its fish just out of sight. Then it stepped back.
August 2, 2011. Great Blue Heron
5 seconds. Great Blue coiled its head back and focused. 10 seconds. Great Blue released all of the energy in its neck and stabbed, fast, down, out of sight. The impact resonated across the cove, "THMMPK". Twice more Great Blue drew its head back, focused and stabbed. "THMMPK". "THMMPK".
And came up with a huge catfish impaled on its beak.
August 2, 2011. Great Blue Heron and Catfish
Great Blue shook its head. Catfish fell. Great Blue found it again.
August 2, 2011. Great Blue Heron and Catfish
Brought it up. Dropped it. Focused. Stabbed. Shook it off. Stabbed again. Over and over. A dog barked from the houses above the marina. Cars rumbled along the boulevard. Great Blue looked directly at me.
August 2, 2011. Great Blue Heron
"This is what I do."
I didn't want to watch the endgame. I packed up - camera, binocs, notebook, pencil, made my way back towards the car. The marina gate was open when I passed. I walked through it, along the pier, looked across the cove back towards where I'd left the heron and its incipient meal. Great Blue was slow stepping - one long leg, then the other. Its neck was grotesquely swollen. I could almost make out the shape of a fish.
August 2, 2011. A juvenile Green Heron was present at the marina.
###
What's happening where you are?
I'll be out until mid afternoon PDT today. August is a really busy month for us, so I won't be able to post another Bucket until the middle of next week. Will check in when I can.