Goldeneye

Common Goldeneye (Bucephala changula) I had been watching this Goldeneye for a couple of days and took note of what I perceived were his movement patterns. To get a clear opportunity for photographing the bird, I decided that I could sneak among the reeds and bulrushes to get a clear shot. There was a small peninsula that would provide an excellent view of the bird’s movements and which I hoped was somewhat solid and would hold me. On the day I decided to venture out, I noticed a large raccoon in the same immediate area that I planned to go through. Raccoons can be a bit temperamental and can routinely defeat a large dog if confronted, so I tentatively made my way through the area while crouched over and careful to hopefully not startle the raccoon. I planned on getting as low as possible going through the reeds and did not want a confrontation — when I reached my selected area, I knew I would either be laying flat or in such a position that I would be at a disadvantage and unable to move quickly should the Raccoon choose to defend his territory. I have no idea where the raccoon went, but from signs in the area, it was a regular visitor and I was probably on his home turf. Successfully negotiating the path to the end of the peninsula, I was able to spend some time observing this bird and its behavior before a car stopped close by and the occupant got out of the car and walked to the edge of the water. I had taken my time to get into my position being careful not to disturb the bird’s behavior, but he took exception to the newly-arrived visitor who chose to stand in full view. He turned and swam farther down the channel out of camera range — my time with the bird abruptly came to an end.

Wandering

A few days ago, I began what ended up being many, many miles driven, in different locations in an attempt to find and photograph suitable subjects. I drove, I walked, I sat, I pondered. The harder I looked, the less presented itself, or so it seemed. On a whim, I decided to take an unlikely detour to a location where I felt it was unlikely to really find anything. I had nothing but time, so I took the road (I could throw in, “less traveled,” which it was, but that would be cliché) and not really paying much attention. Then, in my view was an animal. At first I thought I had seen an otter and as I slowed to get a better view, it disappeared. Continuing on, I found nothing, except a bull moose about three counties away, so that was out of the question. I returned to the location I had seen the yet to be identified critter, and there is was. So, I carefully stopped so I could observe what I had found. To my disbelief, I was looking at a beaver (Castor canadensis). I have never seen a beaver in winter before. This one was busy gathering branches from the surrounding brush, dragging them to a hole in the snow and then disappearing. As I waited, he/she appeared again and came completely out of the hole into which it had disappeared. It’s snout snow-covered from rearranging snow around one of the holes it was using. So, on balance, it ended up being a pretty good day.

Watching Us Watch Him

Bull Moose (Alces alces) I did’t think such a large animal could be sneaky, but sneaky, they are. Saw this Bull Moose in the Pebble Creek, Round Prairie area in Lamar Valley, YNP, early in the morning before the sun broke over the mountain. One lone bull appeared on the other side Soda Butte Creek and was too far for a decent shot from the road, even with long glass. So, I pulled on my coat and strode off through the snow and 5º temperatures to get closer. I was soon joined by another photographer, Dan Swart, Swart Photography. I was armed with the new Nikon Z7 camera and Nikkor 500mm PF lens. Seeing what others were hauling through the snow, willows, and small creeks, I felt as though I was cheating having such a small, light load. We stayed on the opposite side of the creek from the moose and continually lost him as he “snuck” through the tall vegetation. Eventually, he reappeared about 100 yards farther upstream from where we thought he was. The sun finally broke through the overcast skies, and illuminated the frost on the willows and other vegetation as the moose reappeared for a brief moment. Since the Z7 and 500mm PF are so compact and light, no tripod was necessary and I had not packed one in pursuit of the moose, which made it possible to move rapidly, lock focus, and shoot as the moose continued to be evasive. If you notice, he knew exactly where we were — he was watching us watch him.