Infrared Lake

Spider Lily Over a Nightlight

A spider lily bloomed over a night light. 

Flicker on a Branch

Barred Owl Looking Through Branches

Great Blue Heron Preening

An amazing creature to watch, even while she preens.

Colorful Barrels, Beige Wall

Old Trucks in the Grass

Missus Parkey's Owl in the Old House

A Barred Owl in My Trees

She and her partner hoot-hoot away every day, an amazing sound in the trees.

A Post that Leans

The Mary Amelia at Sunrise

Cotton Field after a Rain

North Texas Jaunt Along the Red River

An Avocet

Three Black-necked Stilts

Sunset View in the Countryside

Well-travelled Butterfly

Wings a bit frayed, the butterfly flew from flower to flower during the high heat of the day.

Clay-colored River Wichita

The Wichita River after a recent heavy rain.

Bombing Avocet

     Upon discovering a pair of nesting American avocets and two or three nesting Black-necked stilts with fledglings wandering around the upper pond, I promised myself to return to photograph them. Clearly upset, the avocets yelped and bombed us until we left; so I planned to arrive at their nesting site quietly to avoid distressing them again. 

           

     A week later and after a heavy rain, driving along the road, a scant 600 yards from the pond, I came upon a large mud hole of the kind that could leave me stuck if I attempted to drive through it, or at least, if successful to cross it, would leave ruts so deep that they would ruin the road. At the same time, it looked like the perfect spot to leave the truck and walk quietly up to the pond. Part of my plan entailed sneaking up to the avocets and stilts. 

    With my tripod and camera with long lens resting on my shoulder, I headed toward the pond. Unusual for this time of year in North Texas, the weather brought overcast skies and cool temperatures, making it comfortable for walking carrying a heavy camera, lens, and tripod. To my left and right, the mesquite plants thrived next to clumps of tall sunflowers. While the orioles, Bullock's and Baltimores, have remained elusive to me, showing themselves only by a brilliant yellow or orange flash passing before me, this time rewarded me; a fledgling oriole sat long enough on a branch to allow for a photograph. A fledgling Green heron eyed me, watching for any threatening movements, and a roadrunner hopped from branch to branch on a small mesquite, moving farther away from me with every one of my steps.

     Half-way to the pond, a Killdeer flying around the perimeter of her nesting site, spotted me. "Ah," I thought, "She'll annunciate my arrival to everyone now." The Killdeer veered toward me, aligned herself with the road, and lined up for a straight in final, landing a few feet ahead of me. Running ahead of me, she chirped and chipped and carried on to make sure I focussed on her, rather than on her nest. The ruckus, though, alerted the avocets, both of which came careening around the corner at low altitude, then straight toward me. Tranquility at the pond ended, but I pressed ahead. 

     I put the brightest part of the overcast sky behind me and sat down, aiming the lens toward the water. No young stilts in sight this day; instead, I had the unusual sight of the incoming bombing avocets. The stilts eventually left me and disappeared over the ledge to a third and back pond, but one relentless avocet remained. Every bombing attempt by the bird gave me good practice with my camera skills; but enough was enough. I began to feel upset that I distressed the birds, and fewer than five minutes later, I gathered my tripod and started walking toward the truck and away from the pond. The most relentless of the avocets bombed me all the way to the road. 

     On the road, the Killdeer took over her task. She flew over me and landed a few feet ahead of me, and ran ahead, carrying on and on up the road. At one point, I stepped away and hid behind a mesquite plant, watching her reaction. She stopped suddenly, turned around, and walked toward me, looking at me behind the mesquite, her head high, her chirping slower. Then, I stepped back on the road and walked. The Killdeer then turned around and hastened her step and chirping. I thought, "She might be thinking that 'It's working!' I am leading this human away from my nest and back to her truck!'" Only fifty yards from my truck did the Killdeer finally take flight and turn toward the pond, back to her nesting site. 

     Below, I post a photograph of the young Black-necked stilt and the American avocet couple taken a week prior to the day the Killdeer foiled my plan to approach them quietly.

Spot the Roadrunner in a Mesquite Plant