Look for the Beauty

With so many abhorrent things being perpetrated by our current administration, I often think of this quote by Fred Rogers:

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping'”.

Great Egret on a foggy morning in Florida

She was teaching him a strategy to cope with fear and anxiety by focusing on human goodness rather than on the distressing event itself.

Spending time in nature with a camera in hand is my strategy for coping. Instead of looking for the helpers, I’m looking for the beauty. For the two or three hours I’m out on a walk, I’m totally absorbed in the picture-taking adventure. There’s absolutely no room left in my brain for the scary things to seep in. Even without a camera strapped across my shoulder, time spent in nature is always time well spent.

Great Blue Heron along the Gulf of Mexico

A 2019 study in Frontiers of Psychology found that as little as 20 minutes a day immersed in nature can significantly lower your stress hormone levels. There is, in fact, extensive research across several disciplines including environmental psychology, neuroscience, and epidemiology that demonstrate the significant mental, physical and cognitive benefits of spending time in nature whether you’re in a deep wilderness, an urban park, or your own backyard. You don’t even need a camera to reap the benefits, you just need to be paying attention.

My picture walks have that effect on me. As soon as I’m out among the trees or near a body of water, I experience an immediate sense of calm, especially if I have my camera with me; it makes me pay close attention. For the next few hours, I’ll be totally focused on all the things I see and hear, hoping for an interesting picture or a beautiful shot. It might be a colorful flower, a tiny bird, or an elusive butterfly. When I’m that absorbed with looking, and that absorbed with the whole process of taking a picture using manual settings, the world beyond the reach of my camera completely disappears.

When I arrive home and bring the pictures up on my computer, I’m once again transported to the wonder of it all: zooming in on each plant or creature to see the intricate designs on a butterfly’s wings or the colors around a bird’s eye; the delicate nature of a dragonfly’s wings, or the amazing construction of a spider’s web. It’s all so incredibly interesting.

Just twenty minutes a day…

spent in nature’s embrace…

paying close attention…

…can have a profound impact on your mental health.

Zero Degrees

November 2025

When the morning forecast says “sunny and calm,” I can’t get out the door fast enough to take pictures. ‘Sunny and calm’ means good reflection shots of birds on water. When the morning forecast also says “snow,” it feels like I’ve won the lottery! Even if the temperature drops to zero, I’m out the door! Zero degrees just means more layers!

When layering up for cold weather, my husband Mel, who has hiked the Appalachian trail many, many times, through all kinds of weather, occasionally warns me that “cotton kills.” The first layer of clothing should never be cotton! If you sweat, it won’t evaporate. If you stay wet, you’ll stay cold. You can even die —well, not when you’re out taking pictures and your car is a stone’s throw away, but certainly if you’re a hundred miles from help and hypothermia sets in! I don’t ever worry about hypothermia when I’m out taking pictures, but I do worry about being so cold I have to come home before I’m ready.

**Black-capped Chickadee** *November 2020*

So, my first winter layer is always synthetic. After that, I throw on various layers of wool blends, more synthetics, and maybe fleece. If I think my feet will freeze, I wear toasty warm, re-chargeable socks that came as a gift from a very kind friend. On top of all those layers, I wear windproof or waterproof pants and a warm coat.

Even with all those layers and a good pair of gloves, it has taken me years to figure out how to keep my hands warm and still operate the buttons on my camera. Eventually, I found a lightweight pair of down mittens which are thin enough to feel the buttons but warm enough to keep my fingers from freezing—sort of. I still put rechargeable hand warmers in each of my pockets to make sure.

Then there’s my head, neck, and feet to worry about. I start with a neck-warmer and sometimes a scarf; followed by a cozy warm hat, and sometimes the hood of my coat. Just before going out the door, I put on my hiking boots as well as a pair of waterproof over-boots if the snow is deep or it’s exceptionally cold.

It took me a long time to work out this multi-layer system where I can stay reasonably warm—and still move!

It isn’t quite zero degrees yet, but it will be at some point. On November 8th of this year, we had our first snowfall. A few days later, it was 50 degrees. This coming week, a snowstorm is expected. Such are the vagaries of a Michigan winter and the challenges of dressing for the occasion!

**White-throated Sparrow** *November 2023*

**Red-bellied Woodpecker** *January 2022*

As much as I enjoy capturing a pretty picture of a bird in the snow, I am not a big fan of winter nor am I a glutton for punishment. I don’t like all the dreary, overcast days and the loss of color, I don’t like the freezing cold temperatures, and the lack of butterflies, dragonflies, or frogs. And I absolutely hate wearing all those stupid layers of clothes just to go outside!

That said, I do love the challenge of taking pictures in the wintertime. I love how it feels to be dressed in all those layers on a really cold day with giant snowflakes stuck to my eyelashes and feeling invincible! I love being outdoors hoping for the best picture ever, then coming home after a long winter walk to stand in front of the fire and soak up its warmth.

Most of all, at age 78, I love that I still can!

Sometimes a Sparrow

September 9, 2025

I always enjoy finding house sparrows! And I love hearing their cheerful voices as they sing outside my kitchen window during the cold winter months. They are a pleasant reminder that there is joy to be found even on the dreariest of days. House sparrows, however, are not everyone’s favorite bird!

Some people dislike them because they are an invasive species—but they didn’t come here on their own! Nicholas Pike, the director of the Brooklyn Institute, imported the first eight pairs of house sparrows from Liverpool, England in 1850 to control insect pests like the linden moth caterpillars that were damaging trees on the East Coast. Pike only released 16 birds but within 30 years those sparrows, as well as others that were released across the country, turned into thousands of birds and became a serious agricultural problem and a significant threat to our native birds.

House Sparrows are known for taking over the nest boxes of native birds, evicting the birds who have already established nests in those boxes, destroying the existing eggs, killing the nestlings, and even killing the females who are incubating the eggs! They are not America’s favorite bird!

I like to keep in mind, though, that it wasn’t their idea to come here in the first place and, in spite of their ‘shortcomings’, house sparrows play a very beneficial role in our environment by controlling a wide variety of pests including caterpillars, aphids, moths, and ants. They also eat mollusks, crustaceans, earthworms, lizards, frogs, berries, fruits, nuts, and our discarded scraps of food! Let’s hear it for the house sparrows!!

House sparrows are also an excellent model organism for many avian biological studies. They are abundant, easy to raise, and generally don’t fear humans. Because these little birds are so adaptable and easy to study, there have been at least 5,000 scientific papers published over the years using them as the study species!

I love the house sparrows for their chattiness and their social skills! They often gather in big groups and fill the trees with their cheerful song, a series of ‘cheeps,’ made mostly by the males, and repeated incessantly during much of the year to announce that they possess a nest and they want to attract a female. When dozens of these little birds are singing happily together, it’s music to my ears.

When I hear house sparrows singing, I stop to listen and, if they’re not preening and fussing too much, take a few pictures. I don’t think many photographers have any interest in these birds, however. House sparrows lack the ‘pizazz’ of their more colorful cousins, like the bright red Northern cardinals, the stunningly blue indigo buntings, or the very, very orange Baltimore orioles! I love a colorful bird as much as the next person, but sometimes a sparrow is all I need!

There have been so many times when I’ve stopped to take pictures of sparrows and ended up with so much more than I expected! The sparrows draw me in with all their chattiness, but the other birds, the more solitary ones, are often hiding nearby. Some birds, like the kingfishers, just stop by for a quick hello and disappear!

It happened again the other day! I was waiting to photograph a sparrow, in a tree full of sparrows, when an elusive belted kingfisher landed on a limb right above me! I only got one shot and he was gone! In the nearby trees, I saw the leaves rustling. There were three small warblers flitting about quietly; a Nashville, a Cape May, and a Yellow warbler. Warblers rarely sit still like the sparrows, but I still managed get a few pictures.

If it hadn’t been for the chatty little sparrows, I never would have stopped for a picture. I never would have seen the warblers, or the kingfisher, or the beautiful wood duck that silently emerged from reeds in a nearby pond while I was still watching the sparrows!

Sometimes a sparrow is all I need get the ball rolling!

Troubled Times

June 23, 2025

With all of the terrifying actions of this current administration, my picture walks have become more and more imperative to my mental health. When I’m out taking pictures, I am lost in my own world, focused on those fleeting moments of beauty and joy that, at least for a few hours, give me the illusion of a better world—but even that can be a struggle.

Yesterday, I left the house by 7:00 a.m., before the oppressive heat of the day was expected to settle in, and went for a picture walk hoping to find monarchs, viceroys, or swallowtails flitting about in the fields or perched on newly emerged flowers. They were nowhere to be found!

You don’t have to look hard or long to find proof that we are at a crisis point regarding our butterfly populations.

“A new study published today in Science has found that populations of butterflies across the United States are declining. In addition to dramatic declines for individual species, the study concluded that total abundance of butterflies has declined by 22% from 2000 to 2020. That means that for every five butterflies seen 20 years ago, now there are only four.”

This is both disturbing and alarming. Sadly, the reasons for their decline are all too familiar: habitat loss, climate change, and pesticide use. Almost every creature I love to photograph faces these same challenges. We are stewards of this earth and bear the responsibility for those losses; either through the people we elect, the poisons we use in our own yards, or the habitats we desecrate. It’s on us.

**This Blanding’s Turtle is just one of many creatures whose numbers are in decline due to habitat loss**

On a happier note, my early morning walk was filled with a multitude of much smaller butterflies than the monarchs or the swallowtails– mostly little essex skippers and the slightly larger silver-spotted skippers. I was also delighted to find a large contingent of dragonflies– eight different types to be exact, and one damselfly!

**A tiny Essex Skipper butterfly on Meadow Hawkweed**

**Silver-spotted Skipper on a small Oxeye Daisy**

**Small White butterfly** **on a tiny bit of clover**

The previous day, I had gone on an early evening walk, also trying to avoid the heat of the day and hoping to capitalize on the soft, warm light of the setting sun. Apart from the mosquitoes, early evening is a perfect time of day for nature shots! Everything seems quieter, more relaxed– even the colors quiet down! And there are creatures I rarely see, like sandhill cranes, skittish bunnies, and industrious little muskrats.

**One of two Sandhill Cranes foraging in the early evening light**

**Eastern Cottontail that hadn’t yet noticed me**

**Mama Wood Duck and her eight obedient offspring**

Sometimes, when the whole day stretches before me with no appointments or obligations, I pack myself a snack and go on a ‘field trip!’ Luckily for me, there are at least a half dozen nature preserves within an hour’s drive of where we live and I rotate through them on a regular basis. It’s always fun to go someplace ‘new’ even if I’ve been there before!

**Male Red-winged Blackbird with a damselfly snack**

In the long run, it doesn’t really matter where I take pictures, or what time of day I go, or even if I don’t find something out of the ordinary; it’s the walk itself that’s kept me sane throughout these troubled times, and the connections that have been forged as a result.

Waiting for Wood Ducks

May 5, 2025

I was standing in muck along the edge of a small marsh, knee deep in tick-laden reeds, hoping the Wood Ducks I had heard earlier would return. It was a chilly spring morning and I had underestimated how cold I might get just standing still. Sometimes, though, the sun would peek through the clouds, giving me a brief illusion of warmth, but the cold breeze still cut through me. I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt up over my head, tried not to worry about ticks that might be crawling up my legs, stuffed my hands deep into my pockets, and waited for the Wood Ducks to return.

The marsh was alive with the sound of birds, most noticeable among them were the Red-winged Blackbirds. By belting out their familiar song over and over again, the males were working hard to woo the nearby females. The song of the Red-winged Blackbird is the quintessential sound of spring here in Michigan.

The quiet, less noticeable females were hanging out in the reeds, skulking through the vegetation for food and gathering materials to weave together into their intricate nests.

**Female Red-winged Blackbird with nesting materials in her beak**

A smaller, even less noticeable bird was also flitting among the reeds across from where I was standing. With its subtle coloring of brown, gray, buff, and black, this little bird was well-camouflaged and hard for me to see along the edge of the swamp. I recognized it, though, partly because of its distinctive markings, but mostly from its location. It was a Swamp Sparrow!

While I was watching the little Swamp Sparrow flitting around the marsh, a splash of yellow caught my eye. A tiny bird kept flitting among the reeds so quickly that I had a very hard time bringing it into focus for a picture. The bird in question turned out to be a Common Yellowthroat. Its bright yellow feathers and broad black mask make it one of the most easily recognizable warblers—if you can get it to sit still long enough!

Higher up in the tangle of branches was a barely visible olive gray bird with a white breast. I had no idea what it was so I kept taking pictures, hoping one would be good enough to identify later using one of my birding apps. This one turned out to be a Least Flycatcher.

At this point, it was well past an hour into my vigil, and still no Wood Ducks!

In the distance, I could see a lone Kingbird perched on a reed. With its dark gray back, white chest, and neat white tip on the tail, the Eastern Kingbird looks like it’s wearing a business suit—and this bird is ALL business when it feels threatened! It will readily attack any birds that enter its territory, even if they are much bigger! It’s called a Kingbird for a reason!

About the same time that I spotted the Kingbird, a Great Blue Heron flew overhead!

When I turned my attention back to the marsh in front of me, I saw a pair of Common Grackles perched in another tree not far from the Kingbird. Grackles are stunning birds to observe especially when the sun highlights the iridescent blue feathers on their head. Unfortunately, Grackles are also the number one threat to corn crops. They eat ripening corn as well as corn sprouts, and their habit of foraging in big flocks means they make a multimillion-dollar impact on corn producers.

Another colorful bird that was flitting among the tangled branches and tall reeds was the Palm Warbler. It’s a relatively easy warbler to identify, with its rusty-colored cap, yellow eyebrows, and yellow belly with rusty streaks. These cheerful little birds are migrating through Michigan right now and I love finding them!

I’d been waiting in the muck now for almost two hours and I wasn’t even sure the Wood Ducks would be back before I had to leave. But I had a little more time so I continued to entertain myself watching all the birds going about their daily lives right in front of me mostly oblivious to my presence. At that point, I’d gotten pictures of thirteen of those birds, including a few American Robins, at least one American Redstart, a mewing Catbird, and a few bright yellow American Goldfinches.

Suddenly there was the sound of splashing off to my left! The Wood Ducks were back!! I quickly turned my camera in their direction, hoping my settings were all correct and zoomed in. There were two males and one female and they were already swimming away from me headed for the shelter of the reeds. It wouldn’t be long before they disappeared from view so I started snapping pictures as fast as I could, hoping for one or two good shots. These are such beautiful birds, particularly the males, with their iridescent colors of blue, green, chestnut, and purple; and their contrasting patterns of white around their neck, head and flanks. It would be so disappointing to miss a shot after all this time!

Not only did I have the right settings, the Wood Ducks stayed longer than expected for the photo shoot—AND I never got any ticks! It doesn’t get much better than that!

Finding Refuge

November 7, 2024

Yesterday, in a state of post-election grief, I went to the woods to find comfort, solace, and healing—as well as pictures! It’s my happy place, a place of refuge in both good times and bad.

**One of the inviting trails at Kensington Metropark in Milford, Michigan**

But yesterday it wasn’t just any woods, it was the Kensington woods in Milford, Michigan, where the songbirds are acclimated to people and expectantly perch in the trees along the trail hoping you will extend your arm and present them with a handful of birdseed. I knew the assignment and had come prepared. My pockets were bulging with sunflower seeds, raw peanuts, and dried mealworms—plus a red Tootsie Pop from one of the grandkids in case I got hungry. The tootsie pop, however, was not in the same pocket as the bird food!

**Tufted Titmouse– one of many small birds willing to take food from my hand**

Every time I stopped to take a picture, the songbirds would start flitting nearby expecting to be fed. At one of those stops, a chickadee landed on the far end of my telephoto lens and stared back at me waiting for his handout! (Unfortunately, I couldn’t get a picture!)

**One of the beautiful little Black-capped Chickadees waiting to be fed**

It was impossible for me to resist and I always reached into my pocket for more seeds. In order to get a picture or a video of the birds in my hand, though, I had to sling my ‘real’ camera, with its long 600mm lens and attached monopod over my shoulder, and pull out my cell phone. While I stood there with one hand outstretched with seed and the other trying to take a picture, I felt the occasional bounce of a little chickadee or a tufted titmouse landing on my monopod that was extended behind me like some sort of backwards fishing pole. I had to smile, knowing they were there waiting for me to feed them and trusting that I wouldn’t cause any harm.

**Female Red-winged Blackbird waiting for a handout**

As I stood there feeding the ‘littles’ (chickadees, titmice, and nuthatches), two very tall sandhill cranes came sauntering down the trail in my direction. They were in no apparent hurry, and probably knew that I wasn’t either. I expect they knew that a handout was a possibility, just like it was for the ‘littles’. It’s not particularly advisable to feed them, however, or the chipmunks for that matter. They can get a little too pushy if you don’t hand over the goods! For better or worse, virtually all the critters at Kensington know that humans come bearing gifts.

**Two Sandhill Cranes sauntering down the trail**

The trail I was on at Kensington skirts a small lake called Wildwing. In the middle of that small lake were hundreds of migrating birds swimming about. They were not very close to shore and it was nearly impossible to get a decent picture, but with my 600mm lens, I was able to see American Wigeons, Ring-necked ducks, Red Heads, Buffleheads, Gadwalls, and a large contingent of mallards. It was a birding bonanza!

Along that very same trail, I was surprised to find a large flock of Rusty Blackbirds busily surveying the open ground for food and I quickly pointed my camera in their direction. It’s amazing how beautiful their feathers are when you can see them up close. Rusty Blackbirds get their name from the rusty coloration at the edge of their feather edges that shows up during the winter months.

The trail around Kensington’s Wildwing Lake is 1.75 miles long and, without the need to obsessively take pictures like I do, the average person could walk it in 40 minutes or less; maybe a little more if they stopped to feed the birds several times. I spent five blissful hours!

**The Red Squirrels want handouts too!**

For me, a walk in the woods is therapeutic. Taking pictures is therapeutic. Both are wonderful antidotes to the fear and anxiety that has consumed so many of us over the last several years. The walks in the woods and the picture-taking got me through COVID and hopefully they will get me through the next four years!

**The Sandhill Cranes are always a joy to see!**

**Sandhill Crane checking the ground for spilled seeds!**

Hello Sunshine!

January 15, 2024

It’s been a long, long three years since we last visited Florida for the winter. Our last extended visit was in the winter of 2020. We had a few weeks left in our three-month stay when the pandemic hit. The first news reports were so dire that we worried about whether to remain in Florida or return to Michigan. If we returned, our doctors, family, and friends would be near at hand in case we needed them. If we stayed, there would be no one close by to help, and we had our two old dogs with us to consider. Who would take care of them if we both became seriously ill?

Ultimately, we chose to stay in Florida until our lease ran out in April, but we stopped going out to eat or spending time in our favorite coffee shop. Our niece, Holly, kindly sent us her homemade cloth masks, and we avoided others as much as possible. When it came time to leave, Mel and I drove straight through to Michigan with our two dogs in tow, and only made stops to get gas and use the bathroom. It was a long, grueling two-day marathon of driving.

While the pandemic was still running rampant in 2021 and 2022, we avoided going back to Florida, preferring instead the safety net of family, friends, and our local physicians. In 2023, we stayed home once again because our very old dog, Brandy, was in her last days. She died in April of 2023. Our other dog, Corky, had died the previous year. As the winter of 2024 approached, we were both extremely ready for a change of venue.

It’s not that I don’t like Michigan winters. I love the snow, especially if there are beautiful pictures to be had! What makes me weary, though, are the seemingly unrelenting overcast skies and intermittent rainy days. By January, I am more than ready for sunnier days and new birds to photograph!

Mute Swan in a beautiful Michigan snowfall

Mel and I checked into our rental home late in the day on Monday January 8, 2024. On Tuesday, a huge storm blew through, but Wednesday arrived with an abundance of sunshine and bright blue skies! We both grabbed our cameras and headed out the door to the nearby Anastasia State Park in St. Augustine, to see what we could find.

My first subject was a tiny, solitary shorebird called a Sanderling. It was running along the beach hither and yon like someone had flipped a switch in its brain to fast forward. It was a bird possessed–and hilarious to watch!

Sanderling on a Florida beach in January

After taking hundreds of pictures of the little Sanderling, I wandered down a nearby trail and stopped at the edge of a deep saltwater marsh where I could see Brown Pelicans diving for fish. They flew low across the water then rose gracefully into the air before plunging like a torpedo into the water for fish. The force of that impact stuns the small fish in their path and allows the pelican to scoop them up. It was amazing to watch them go through their acrobatic moves. First, they tucked their heads in, then they rotated their bodies to the left. This maneuver is believed to cushion the trachea and esophagus from the impact of the pelican’s dive. Both the trachea and the esophagus are located on the right side of their neck.

I stood in the same spot for an hour or so just watching all the different birds search for food. There was a Great Egret, a Snowy Egret, a Little Blue Heron, several Ibises, a Tricolored Heron, Piping Plovers, a Ruddy Turnstone, Red-breasted Mergansers, Common Loons, and a very magnificent Osprey that landed on a post less than 20 feet from where I was standing! I’ve never stood in one place for any amount of time and had such a variety of birds visit! It was mesmerizing.

After taking more than 600 pictures, I thought, perhaps, it was time to move on, but it’s never easy for me to do that even when I already have many more pictures than I’ll ever need or use! I always think there will be one more incredible shot that I don’t want to miss. On this particular day, there was!

I had walked a little farther down the trail and stopped dead in my tracks when I saw a large beak and a big yellow eye peeking up from the weeds. Oh, my goodness, I thought! It was a juvenile yellow-crowned night heron! I rarely ever see them! I quickly took a few pictures and then quietly backed away so I wouldn’t disturb him.

The juvenile Yellow-crowned Night Heron that was my favorite catch of the day!

Having fully satisfied my picture-taking appetite for the day, I happily returned to our car, totally rejuvenated by my time outdoors and my camera full of pictures.

It doesn’t get much better than that.

Morning Light

November 19, 2023

Note: Most of the pictures in this post were taken on earlier picture walks

I was sitting in my favorite chair at 5 a.m. on this cold November morning, enjoying a toasty fire, drinking a hot cup of tea, and contemplating the day ahead. Every once in a while, I’d look out the window to see if the sun had come up.

By 7:45, I could see just a hint of light on the very top of the trees along the far side of the creek behind our house. I wrestled with my choices for the day– stay warm and cozy inside the house, or go out into the cold November air and take pictures. The conditions were perfect: early morning light, no wind, and clear skies. I thought maybe a northern shoveler would unexpectedly drop by, or that a few wood ducks might swim out from the reeds as they sometimes do, or that a great blue heron would be scouting for fish along the opposite bank. I might even see a rare mink scurrying by. Anything was possible!

There was no choice, really; whether to stay inside or to go outdoors. The morning light beckoned. It would be impossible for me to stay home on such a beautiful day! There was such promise in the air! But, it was only 32 degrees! I wasn’t ready to face the cold! And getting dressed would be a challenge– because cold weather photography, where I might not move for hours on end, takes careful planning. Should I wear two layers or three? Do I need mittens or gloves? Boots or shoes? There were too many decisions to be made this early in the morning!

**All bundled up for the cold on an earlier picture walk**

By 8:15, though, I was out the door. The sun had risen a little higher in the sky, the water in the creek was perfectly still, and I planted myself in the very best spot I could find where the sun would be at my back.

**Cherry Creek in the early morning light**

I stood quietly and waited. The squirrels were scampering through the leaves behind me and running across the branches overhead. Now and then, I’d hear a red-bellied woodpecker tapping on one of the nearby trees. A handful of birds were greeting the new day with their joyful song while a solitary goose flew by.

Not far from where I was standing, I could hear the familiar sound of the male red-winged blackbirds as they flitted among the cattails. They have a short, one-second song that starts with an abrupt note and turns into a musical trill. The females usually respond to the singing males with a chit-chit-chit sound, but I never heard their replies. Perhaps, the females have already flown south for the winter.

**Male Red-winged Blackbird in the reeds along Cherry Creek**

After about an hour of standing and waiting, I took a seat on the bench next to me; my hopes slowly dwindling. There had been no signs of any shovelers, wood ducks, or herons. I would have been happy at that point if even a mallard had floated by!

Eventually, the cold air settled into my bones, and I had run out of things to talk to myself about. I tried, instead, to concentrate on all the different birds I could see or hear in the trees around me, like the chickadees, tufted titmice, cardinals, robins, cedar waxwings, woodpeckers, sparrows, and blue jays. They provided a symphony of songs and a bit of entertainment as I sat watching for the elusive ducks and herons to appear on the creek.

By 9:30, I was ready to throw in the towel and go for a walk in the sun so I could soak up some of its warmth. Before leaving my temporary roost, though, I moved closer to a nearby bush where I had been watching the cedar waxwings gobbling up berries, hoping I could maybe get a picture of them! With all the foliage obstructing my view, it was more of a challenge than I expected!

After managing to get a few waxwing shots (and one fat robin), it was time to move on to more promising grounds. I headed over to the business park next door thinking I would find a red-tailed hawk, a migrating duck, or maybe even a bluebird. All I found were pigeons.

Where was everybody??

It was almost noon and the temperature had climbed from a chilly 32 degrees to a toasty 50. I was so HOT! I had taken off my hat, mittens, and scarf and stuffed them into the pockets of my coat; the pockets that were already jammed full with two rechargeable hand-warmers, one cell phone, and a set of keys. Eventually I had to take off the coat as well and tie it around my waist or I would totally disintegrate from the heat! It was time to head home.

**A big fat Robin enjoying the same berry bush as the Cedar Waxwings**

In the end, I didn’t have much to show for all my efforts: no wood ducks, no hawks, no shovelers, no mallards. It’s always disappointing when this happens, but I just can’t force the birds to show up when I want them to– or to get them to sit still in the right light while I adjust my settings.

On a particularly slow picture day, like this one, I have to remind myself that the most important thing is the walk itself, not the pictures. At my age (76), spending the day outdoors traipsing about is a gift; one that I treasure. Having my camera along, just makes all that exercise more interesting.

And that’s what keeps me going out the door–even on the least promising of days.

Waning Days of Color

September 2023

A few days ago, I visited the Paw Paw Prairie Fen Preserve in Mattawan, Michigan, one of our local nature areas. It’s a beautiful preserve with a well-maintained 1.5 mile trail that meanders through wild flowers, trees, ponds, and tall prairie grasses. The land is owned and maintained by The Nature Conservancy, a global environmental nonprofit organization.

**BOTTLEBRUSH GRASS**
Bottlebrush grass is a perennial grass native to the eastern United States and Canada. Bottlebrush Grass gets its name from the spiky seed heads that look just like the brush used to clean bottles,

“In 2004, this site was slated for a housing development. Topsoil had been removed, road routes had been laid out and neighborhood landscaping was being installed. The Nature Conservancy was alerted to rare wetland communities here and began negotiations to acquire the land. Today The Nature Conservancy owns 106 acres along the east branch of the Paw Paw River, including rare prairie fens, and a beautiful array of prairie plants and wildlife.” (from the descriptive sign at the entrance of the preserve)

**JOE PYE WEED**
This plant was likely named for Joseph Shauquethqueat, a highly-respected Mohican sachem or paramount chief, also known to white neighbors as Joe Pye, who lived in the Mohican community in Stockbridge, Massachusetts in the late 1700’s to early 1800’s. Joe Pye weed has a long history of medicinal use, including as a diuretic, for easing urinary tract issues, joint stiffness, and gout. It is also used to treat reproductive issues and diabetes.

I started my picture walk at 2:30 in the afternoon hoping to eventually catch the late afternoon sun. For the first hour and a half, I saw virtually nothing to photograph, except for a few random plants, and an untold number of autumn meadowhawk dragonflies. I had been hoping for butterflies and birds, and a much wider variety of dragonflies. I had even hoped to find a praying mantis or two. But there were only the meadowhawks, and a few interesting plants to entertain me.

**AUTUMN MEADOWHAWK**
The autumn meadowhawk is a bright red or yellow dragonfly that has yellow legs. It lingers longer through the summer season than most dragonflies.

Autumn meadowhawks, as the name implies, are most active from late summer through fall, and are abundant in open meadows or prairies like the one I was in. They are often the last dragonflies you will see as the colder weather sets in. If there hasn’t been a hard freeze, it’s even possible to find them in November!

**AMERICAN GOLDFINCH**
Goldfinches are among the strictest vegetarians in the bird world, selecting an entirely vegetable diet and only inadvertently swallowing an occasional insect.

At the ninety minute mark, I finally spotted something other than a meadowhawk– a praying mantis! There were probably hundreds of them hidden in the grasses all around me, but praying mantids are particularly well-camouflaged and extremely hard to find! I was thrilled that this one was out in the open and clinging to the underside of a stalk of goldenrod. The most fascinating thing about this insect is its ability to rotate its heads 180 degrees! No other insect can do this, and it’s particularly creepy to zoom in on one and find it staring back at you from over its shoulder!

**PRAYING MANTIS**
The praying mantis is so named because when waiting for prey, it holds its
front legs in an upright position as if they are folded in prayer. Don’t be fooled
by its angelic pose, however, because the mantid is a deadly predator!

While I was watching the praying mantis, a small bird flew across my peripheral field and landed in a distant tree. It wasn’t close enough for a good picture, but I took a few quick shots anyway so that I could identify it later. The bird turned out to be an Eastern Wood-Peewee; an olive-gray bird with dark wings and an off-white belly. It’s bigger than a Black-capped Chickadee but smaller than an Eastern Bluebird.

**EASTERN WOOD PEEWEE**
The Eastern Wood-Pewee’s plaintive song of three sliding notes (*pee-a-weeeee*) is distinctive and easy to learn. (This photo was taken on a different walk.)

Thirty minutes later, I came across my best surprise of the day, a ruby-throated hummingbird! They are usually on the move and hard to capture, but this one landed on a branch and sat for a spell.

**RUBY-THROATED HUMMINGBIRD**
The extremely short legs of the ruby-throated hummingbird prevent it from walking or hopping. The best it can do is shuffle along a perch.

Once the hummingbird flew off, I continued down the path and found my first and only monarch for the day perched on a lovely stand of deep purple ironweed—the perfect plant for a monarch photo! Later, a great spangled fritillary came along and landed on the very same plant! Ironweed is an absolute butterfly magnet! The clusters of hairy purple to pink flowers are irresistible to pollinators, especially swallowtails and monarchs.

**MONARCH BUTTERFLY ON IRONWEED**
White spots on monarch butterfly wings may help them fly better during long migration from Canada to Mexico, new research shows. These spots are believed to alter the airflow patterns around the monarch’s wings, enhancing their flight efficiency. Remarkably, monarchs are the only insects known to embark on such an extensive journey.

**GREAT SPANGLED FRITILLARY ON IRONWEED**
Great spangled fritillaries are relatively large butterflies with a wingspan of 2 to 4 inches and a length of 3.5 to almost 4 inches!

I had a hard time pulling myself away from the butterflies, but there was a small pond nearby and I had noticed cedar waxwings there earlier in my walk. They had been flying back and forth across the pond catching insects. This time of year, cedar waxwings supplement their fruity diet with protein-rich insects like mayflies, dragonflies, and stoneflies, which they often catch on the wing.

**CEDAR WAXWING**
The name “waxwing” comes from the waxy red secretions found on the tips of the secondaries of some birds. The exact function of these tips is not known, but they may help attract mates.

Three hours into my slow, rambling walk, I was ready to head back to my car, but there was one more surprise waiting for me– a very, very tiny American copper butterfly that only flies about two feet above the ground. The upperside of its forewings are a bright copper color with black spots and a gray border. The hindwings are grayish-brown with a copper border. It’s quite a pretty little butterfly when you can see it close-up.

All through the fen, I kept thinking about the changes that were taking place around me; all the beautiful flowers that were already fading away, all the colorful birds and insects that had already left or would soon be leaving, and all the green, leafy trees that would soon be barren.

**FEMALE EASTERN TIGER SWALLOWTAIL**
There was one eastern tiger swallowtail that flew by but it didn’t stop for a picture. This one was taken on a previous picture walk.

It’s not that I dread the changing of the seasons or the coming of winter; I’ll still be traipsing about in the snow looking for a another pretty picture. But I’ll miss the rich variety of birds and insects, and the huge palette of colors that spring and summer throw across the landscape. I always have.

**GRAY CATBIRD**
The catbirds were chattering in the trees around me but never came out for a picture. This picture is from a previous walk.

In Pursuit of Wonder

July 21, 2023

Every time I set out on a picture walk, I wonder what I’ll find. I wonder if I’ll see something new, or something interesting, or something particularly beautiful. It doesn’t need to be a bald eagle, or a rare insect, or a breathtaking sunrise —although those things are certainly welcome; I mostly enjoy the pursuit of wonder, and the challenge of capturing just the right photo at just the right moment. I am as easily excited about finding a tiny snail on a stalk of a dead plant as I am about finding an exquisite bird I rarely see. It’s the pursuit itself that never grows old, and pushes me out the door every day.

A small Eastern Heath Snail that could easily go unnoticed

Not long ago, I was house-sitting for a friend in a part of our state that I rarely visit. She lives on a seldom-traveled, unpaved country road that quietly meanders into the beautiful and expansive Manistee National Forest. I ventured out on that road early one morning wondering what I might find. The deep shade along the forest road was a welcome relief from the heat, but I wasn’t sure that it would be a good place for pictures. There just wasn’t much light peeking through the trees, except for small patches here and there where the occasional butterfly would land, and the columbines struggled to find sunlight.

The narrow gravel road into the Manistee National Forest

I was captivated by the sound of all the birds singing throughout the forest; their voices echoing melodically through the giant cathedral of trees. One of those birds was louder and more insistent than all the others and I wondered who it might be. Fortunately, Merlin* came to my rescue and identified the mystery vocalist as an ovenbird!

I had never seen or heard an ovenbird before, so I stood quietly on the edge of the road, waiting for any movement in the trees, hoping to get a glimpse of one. It didn’t take long, but the setting was so dark, and the bird moved so quickly, that I didn’t think I’d get a decent shot. Eventually, though, my patience paid off.

When I did some research on this elusive little bird, I was fascinated to find out that ovenbirds are smaller than sparrows, and they will only breed where there are large, undisturbed expanses of mature trees and a closed canopy. The forest canopy needs to be so dense that it severely inhibits underbrush from developing on the forest floor, and allows for a deep layer of leaf litter to accumulate. Ovenbirds spend most of their time foraging in that leaf litter looking for things to eat like crickets, caterpillars, ants, spiders, slugs, and snails. They also need leaf litter to build their nests. This task is left to the female ovenbird who creates a comfy home on the forest floor using dead leaves, grasses, stems, bark, and hair. The finished dome-shaped nest, at 9 inches wide and 5 inches deep, has a squat oval side entrance and resembles a primitive outdoor oven, which is how this bird got its name!

An Ovenbird in the leaf litter with a tasty snack

Halfway through my walk, I came to a wide-open field at the edge of the forest, where an odd-looking bird flew overhead and landed on the top of a utility pole! Even from a distance, it didn’t look like a bird that would normally land on a tall, skinny pole! With long legs, a long neck, and a thin, straight bill, it had the appearance of a fairly typical shorebird. Luckily, the bird on the pole was singing its heart out and Merlin* quickly identified it as an Upland Sandpiper. This particular shorebird, however, loves the prairies, pastures, and croplands rather than the wetlands where its cousins like to hang out! It is also a shorebird that loves to perch on fence posts and perform memorable flight songs over its territories! This bird was behaving true to form!

The long-legged, long-necked Upland Sandpiper on a utility pole!

On my return trip through the forest, I had one more surprise waiting for me– a barred owl! It landed on a branch not far from where I was walking and posed for a few pictures before flying off. Even though barred owls are plentiful in Michigan, this was my first!

In between these discoveries, there were butterflies and wildflowers quietly going about their business in the random patches of sunlight, waiting patiently to be noticed, and I obliged.

It was just another ordinary day of small but incredible wonders that, more often than not, go completely unnoticed.

*Merlin is a free bird identification app