A weekend in the Everglades

The last possible weekend to camp and the winds once again foiled our plans to get out to the gulf. With expected 25+ knot winds clocking from the NE to the SE during the Easter holiday weekend, we decided to head down to Flamingo and car camp. Not our first choice by any means, but it did provide us the opportunity to explore various locations, including land sites where I might photograph birds with my feet on ground.

The 3-day excursion began early Friday morning at the Coot Bay Pond launch site. From there, we headed across Coot Bay into the Mud and Bear Lakes. Three years ago, I went into Mud lake to photograph a flock of flamingos in the dead of summer, see photo above. This time, there were no flamingos and the wading birds and lone white pelican would not allow me within a couple hundred feet. There were several flocks of American Coots but they also are very shy around boats; here's one photo of a raft of coots.

As I leisurely paddled around, Vivian fished and while I rarely capture fishermen and their catch, this time she was catching snook continuously that it became inevitable that I get a photograph.

The next day would be totally different. The winds calmed down enough to give us reason to head out to Florida Bay. With the outgoing tide, the mud flats grew in size and that meant the shore and wading birds would have lots of space. It's a bit tricky photographing on the bay with the outgoing tide. Florida Bay mud is like quicksand and you don't want to spend your entire day waiting for the tide to reverse so you can set yourself loose (getting out of the boat is not an option). I have learned to focus attention on a bird, but to stay attentive to the water levels. In most other places, like Biscayne Bay, I need not worry much about that and can lose myself in the birds while the water under my boat disappears. But here on Florida Bay, that's a recipe for disaster. Not only that,the winds became more intense out of the east and after a few hours, would force me out of the water. In the meantime, a few photos were captured. Here's a high key shot of a cormorant, would much preferred an open wing pose. The next two are common shorebirds on the flats; a curlew sandpiper and a willet.




Later that day as the winds continued blowing, I walked to Eco Pond. It was late afternoon and the lighting was beautiful except for frequent cloud cover. There were several black necked stilts and some greater yellowlegs in the pond. The stilts did not come close, but the reflections on the pond were irresistible. Here's a couple shots.


Early Sunday morning we broke camp and drove to 9-mile pond. The black vultures were there in great number to greet us. We launched in a beautiful morning light. Soon, it became evident that the territorial male gators were working their territories. Vivian hooked a spotted gar only to have 2 gators come after her catch. Safely away from that encounter, another gator spooked under her boat causing a scary wake. In the meantime, I was following a couple large lizards that were heading towards a well lit grassy bank. It was a beautiful set up for photographing and I waited for one to get into a good light. But then, one ran out of the water onto the bank as the larger gator chased it. Shortly after, the classic territorial gator bellows began. Here's a shot of one big guy as it bellowed, arching its back and head out of the water. Sitting in the middle of the lake, it was a surround sound of gator bellows, enough to cause me to put the camera away and clear the area.

In the meantime, the lovely vultures were pecking away at the rubber lining along the bottom of my car doors. They are notorious for this, but luckily, we stopped them before they did damage. If they weren't so dang cute...

Another great weekend in the Everglades.

Summer already?

The temperatures have been unseasonably high this winter. What is generally a winter season speckled with cold fronts, has turned into a very mild, very breezy (typical) year. And now with daylight savings, it is beginning to feel a lot like summer around here.

And in summers, I spend much time on Biscayne Bay. That is what I did on this mid-March Saturday morning. Normally, this would be a camping weekend, but it just seemed nice to stay home for a change. And Saturday morning appeared to be a good time to get out on the bay. Recently, the park opened a canoe launch site on a canal that runs out to the bay near Deering. About 1/4 mile away is the entrance to the hidden lake on the north side of the canal. On the south side is a clearing where you can portage across the dirt road into a creek that leads into the bay in a southerly direction. That route cuts off about 1 mile to the sponge farm sticks and the rookeries, where I wanted to be this morning. Wearing my mosquito headnet, I got my boat into the creek and was on the bay early enough to see this scene.


I figured the clouds would eventually burn off, so I headed south toward the rookery, about 2 miles from the launch site. This was going to be a fact-finding trip more than anything, or so I thought. This is not the time of year I find myself on Biscayne Bay. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I figured if the great white egret and brown pelican were already nesting in the Everglades, the cormorant and cattle egret must be nesting here on the bay. In May, I begin my summer visits to the rookery and at that time, I don't see very many babies in the nest. I figured in March, the adults might be busy building the nest and setting up for a long summer of raising young birds.

I had a high tide this morning, with an outgoing the remainder the morning. No wading birds to photograph, I headed over to the sponge farm sticks where some terns and gulls were roosting. A few years ago, I started photographing birds here and had a great time with the laughing gulls. Their territorial antics are awesome to photograph in the right conditions. On a calm day, I can stake out the canoe close to the birds (gulls are so much friendlier than other birds) and take my pick at what to shoot. Typically, I do not see the birds in number until August or September. And always, they are in their winter attire. Here is one shot from a few years ago.


Today, there were a few royal terns and one laughing gull. This time, the gull was already in its summer plumage. I staked out about 40 ft from the birds, but the winds were a little challenging as my boat sat broadside to the winds. I somehow managed to turn it so that the bow was facing away from the wind, which decreased the rocking considerably. I set the camera to continuous shooting on Hi (8 fps) and started rifling off some shots. A friend in a kayak came up, and while I stopped to visit with him, a mild rain started. After putting away the camera, the rain came down harder, but only lasted about 10 minutes or so. It was beautiful on the bay. The rain drops on the water were illuminated as the sun was uncovered. A rainbow appeared on the south shoreline. This is when I wished I had a canopy or umbrella set up on the boat. I could have continued shooting with the beautiful rain all around. After the rain stopped, I pulled out the camera again to capture what was left of the rainbow.


Here are a few more photos of the laughing gull in its summer plumage. I was able to capture the bird in the warm morning light.





After spending time at the rookery (photos for another blog), I headed back to the launch site, taking my time. The tide had rolled out nicely and the wading birds were back in great number. I stopped to photograph some of them, despite the noonday harsh light. Before entering the creek to get back to the launch, I passed this scene. The bay at low tide is no place for a large boat like this. Someone is going to have a very long day ahead of them on the bay. I wonder what happened?

The graceful white egret

"Hope" is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—
Emily Dickinson

A beautiful morning with the great white egret in its rookery. Mating and nesting, the parent birds will soon have young ones to feed. Lots of work to do before all that happens, nests to build and maintain, in between the continuous sex to keep the lineage going. So much work for these birds that live strong, survivors of cruel human fashion trends and greed for space. For some reason, brown pelicans and great white egrets share their nesting space, quite respectfully I might add. Very rarely do I see a confrontation between the two distinct species. This is the time of year that these birds concentrate on passing along their genes, survivors of the fittest. For this blog, I will concentrate on the great white egret.


I sat in my canoe several dozens of feet away from the mangrove edge where the birds have built their nests. I arrived early enough to work with that perfect morning light. Clouds were many, but the sun remained clear most of the time. The darkest and most abundant cloud formations were in the western sky, so while the morning sun lit up the white birds warmly, the background was a beautiful combination of white, blue and dark gray, brilliantly contrasting the white feathers of the birds. And to top it off, the brisk winds was coming out of the east, somewhat southerly, which forced the birds to take off and land toward me.


I intended to spend most of the morning here and hoped to spend a second morning in the same place since I was staying the night at Chokoloskee Island. But, as almost always the case, the weather controls our plans out here. Saturday began easy as I paddled in a northwest direction to the rookery. The south winds were barely 5-10 knots. By 9 am, they had picked up considerably as I sat in the somewhat protected area of the rookery. While staked out, my boat would often be moved forward with the gusty winds that continually increased in strength as the morning drew on. It required patience to do any photography. By 10 am, the winds were sustained over 20 knots. I anticipated this and knew that my 1.5 mile paddle back to the launch site would be difficult and slow.

But before the time I had to leave, I sat in my canoe and enjoyed the birds. I watched many couples, but concentrated on one of the small mangrove islands where a few couples were in the best light. I was happy to have the Sony a77, 24 mp sensor that would allow some room for cropping. This means that I can capture the birds from a greater distance and still maintain high resolution with cropping. I attempted many flight shots as the sky lent a beautiful background to highlight the birds graceful form.

By 10 am, the lighting became harsh and the clouds more frequent. I decided to make the trek back to the launch site, knowing that I would not be back on Sunday. The forecast called for 30+ knot winds. I enjoyed the few hours I had with the birds and felt content as I paddled through 2-3 ft waves rushing toward my boat on the ride back. My pelican case that houses my cameras and lenses sat in front of me as the waves occasionally broke over the bow. The newly gained photos would make it back home safe as the pelican case was tightly sealed, waterproof and floatable if necessary. It has never come to that, and with confidence, I can take my canoe to glorious places to photograph. It's for the birds.

A window of opportunity

It certainly has been a windy winter season, so what else is new in south Florida. With that, along with other distractions, I have made it to Biscayne Bay only twice this year. Finally, yesterday was the one day of opportunity and with good fortune, it provided calm winds and sunny skies. By afternoon, the winds were greater than 20 knots and continued that way for the remainder of the weekend. Perfect. Photos shot on Saturday, photos edited indoors on Sunday.

We launched from Chapman Fields, which begins in a canal that empties into the hidden lake. On the north side of the lake is a beautiful creek that leads out to the bay. On the water by 7 am or so, we came into the lake with the morning sun barely over the mangrove canopy. I headed into the creek and thought about coming in here on an overcast day with a tripod so that I could stand on ground and photograph the scene. The mangrove islets intermingled with oyster bars scatter throughout, make the path of the creek less obvious. As a result, it gives one a panoramic view of mangroves and water, rather than a narrow, mangrove lined creek. As these thoughts continued, I watched several birds feeding on oyster beds, hiding among the mangrove roots or flying above. I watched two woodstorks swirling overhead, a site I rarely see on Biscayne Bay. Ibis, little blue heron, tricolor heron, great blue; they were all in the creek.

The water was a bit slack as low tide was about 7:30 am; soon it would reverse. Just before getting out into the open bay, something large in the water near my boat spooked and made a big wake. It was likely the resident manatee, only a baby a couple years ago when we first spotted it in the creek. On the other hand, it could have been a large tarpon. Whatever it was, I was glad it was not directly under my boat as it made a rough wake.

Leaving the creek, I entered the bright, flat calm bay. The low tide was evident as several egrets and ibises were wading. Once the bay was in full view, I spotted a concentrated area of cormorants and laughing gulls. There must have been over a hundred gulls sharing a small area with about 50 cormorants. I stayed with them for awhile, attempting some high key shots of the cormorants.
I turned toward the mangrove shoreline that was glowing with the morning sun. As always, their reflections cast over the water giving it an impressionist feeling. The calm water provided perfect conditions to attempt some shots of the wading birds. I focused on a couple juvenile little blue herons. I thought they were juvy snowys, but I was fooled. Difficult to distinguish, the juvy little blue heron has a duller beak, grayish around the eyes, while the brighter snowy has a yellowish base at the beak. Nevertheless, they cooperated with me well enough that I stayed with them for a long time.
I had no reason to go anywhere else today, the tide was already rolling in. The wading birds were decreasing in number and with the rising waters, the two little blue herons flew closer to the mangroves, continuing to provide me good photo opportunities. With such conditions, I have two choices; at the low tide the birds are far enough from the shoreline that I can photograph them with only the surrounding water reflecting the shoreline. The other choice is to photograph the birds closer to the mangroves as the tide moves in, which provides some interesting textures, as seen in the two photos below and the first photo above. It becomes tricky as some of the background can look quite messy. Not a problem today. My goal is to frame the bird with the mangrove leaves and roots above or behind and their reflections surrounding the bird. The juvy little blue heron provides a nice contrast white to all of that.

Enjoy these photos from a beautiful morning on Biscayne Bay.

The huge American White Pelican

There are two species of pelicans in north America, and during the winter months, the Everglades are crazy with both. Unlike its cousin the brown pelican that lives here year round, the American white pelican lives far north during the summer months in nesting colonies. But during the winter, the Everglades lights up with the white pelican and it is a spectacular view that is so appealing to the eye when groups of these large birds can be spotted from great distances. Imagine paddling through the Ten Thousand Islands dominated by blue water and sky separated by a line of mangroves. Then imagine a white aberration in the distance that looks like a large white wall on the water. Pelicans for sure. Look up at the sky and you will see a squadron of black and white winged birds, circling above. This will happen later in the morning after the temperatures have sufficiently increased to create a thermal layer. These are the wintering white pelicans of the Everglades.

White pelicans are foragers, unlike the brown pelican that is a proficient dive bomber. The white pelicans typically work in groups in the shallow water, where they hunt for fish. These large birds (known to weigh as much as 30 lb) can consume over 4 lb of fish in a day (the pouch can hold 3 gallons of water), yet they are considered to be non-competitive to fishermen because they eat mostly non-game fish. However, I learned that with the increase in catfish farming in the southeastern states that these concentrated shallow fish ponds have become a popular foraging site for the white pelican. Normally, the birds spend about 1/3 of the day foraging and the remainder is spent loafing. But in the catfish ponds, they spend only 4% of their day foraging because they don't have to work as hard to fill up on fish. In the Everglades, the white pelicans can be spotted in the shallow waters of large bays or grassy water areas such as in Charley Creek or near the Hells Bay area. They work together to herd the fish and dip their large beaks into the water to capture them.


Photographing the white pelican has become one of my favorite challenges. Usually, I am photographing them as they loaf on a sand or oyster bar and they are typically in large number. It is difficult to approach them to get close enough for photographing, but when you do get close enough, the other challenge is composing the shot.



For these group shots, I try to get them all within the frame, but often there is a section of a bird sticking into the frame. I like their bright orange beaks and legs and try to capture the birds all facing the camera in some way. Occasionally, you can capture one flying by.


The white pelican is a thing of beauty, so large with its 10-ft wing span. In the fall, they usher in the winter season with their migration into the Everglades where they reside until spring when they leave to go north. You know their trek north is coming soon when you see the horn on the beak appear and the orange pouch, legs and skin around the eyes become more vivid; all indications that the bird is getting ready to breed.

Hope to see you again soon, white pelican, in the sunlight of the Everglades.

From my window

I never thought it possible, but I photographed through my second floor window, which was not too dirty having been cleaned recently. Often, during the early sunlit morning as I sit at my desk working, I look through this window. For the past few months, I noticed several spiny orb weaver webs built between two large trees,square in front of me at eye level. The morning sun provides a back light such that I can more closely observe the spider and its silky orb expanding 1-2 ft across.

A few days ago, I took interest in a couple of them. One was building or rebuilding its web, having only 3 or 4 outer circles completed. The background from my view (slightly above the spiders) is messy, consisting of buildings, grass, shrubs and trees, water and the reflections of these objects in the water. Oh yes, and ducks. With a wide enough aperture, these objects will blur out as most of them were several dozen feet away. Lighting was tricky however, with shadows and highly lit areas competing with each other.

At any rate, I set up my exposure to brighten the web and spider as much as possible and keep the background consistent and dark. I began composing, with window between me and my subject.To get an even background, I had to negotiate around my desk and computer, and had only a narrow range to work with. From the following two photos, you can see the progress made by this busy spider.


The next day, I noticed that the same little spider was rebuilding its web. Next to it was its neighbor that had a larger web. It also appeared to be doing some maintenance work on it. The next two images demonstrate some of this work.


The spider's web requires some support lines that shoot out from the center through the orb, and it appeared that she was rebuilding these, as seen here.


Soon, she was back in her center resting spot, with full support.

For post processing, I cropped only some of these photos, particularly the images of the larger spider that showed up so well in the back light. I also liked the light reflecting on the web, so I used some curve work to lighten the lights while maintaining a dark background as much as possible. No cloning or noise reduction were used on these photos. As Dorothy once said after returning from Oz, "If I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own back yard." Well, maybe I will, but it sure is a good feeling to know that the spiny orb weaver is a few feet away.