I was privileged last weekend to participate in a canoe trip sponsored by the Tuolumne River Trust, a short expedition from La Grange to Old Basso Bridge. We traveled about three miles of the river in the lower foothills of the Sierra Nevada. The TRT is a marvelous organization dedicated to protecting the integrity of the Tuolumne watershed from the headwaters in Yosemite National Park to the mouth of the river in the Great Valley and San Francisco Bay.
I was a bit worried about dunking my camera in the "raging" river (the turbulence resulted more from me rocking the canoe than any rapids on the river). But I couldn't resist getting some pictures of the very handsome Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias) that we saw patiently hunting fish in the shallows. They are very statuesque birds.
There will be a write-up on the paddling trip before long over at Geotripper. In the meantime, enjoy our very large blue bird!
Showing posts with label Ardea herodias fannini. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ardea herodias fannini. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 10, 2015
Tuesday, July 14, 2015
Life and Death Drama at Beacon Hill Park, Victoria, BC
The evening started out peacefully enough. We were in Beacon Hill Park, one of the most beautiful in Victoria, out for an after-dinner walk at sunset. We were strolling through the small Japanese Park and pond, when a man pointed out a juvenile Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias) which he said was just learning to fly. It was perched just a few feet over my head, and was staying perfectly still.
It was marvelous having a chance to see such a grand bird up so close, even if its plumage made it look slightly ridiculous.
I've watched herons plenty of times before, and never really heard them make much noise. I wouldn't yet know their call if I heard it (you can follow this link to hear their normal call: http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Great_Blue_Heron/id).
I walked under a conifer along the pond and saw a familiar white coating that looked like snow but most certainly wasn't. There was a heron rookery overhead. About this time we heard an ungodly screeching up in the trees. I figured it was some kind of domestic dispute, or maybe juveniles calling for food, but there seemed to be an urgency, or even panic in the calls. I was starting to realize that something was off, but I couldn't see what was going on clearly high overhead.
I could see now that there were adult herons perched strategically all around the pond, as if acting like sentries. The man I had talked to before said that he thought they were looking out for the juvenile, that it might be having trouble getting back to its nest. That seemed reasonable, and Mrs. Geotripper and I walked on.
Then, Mrs. Geotripper saw them, flying into the pines on the east side of the pond. There were two Bald Eagles on the prowl, and they looked like they meant business. And that business didn't involve their usual diet of fish.
The drought that has affected California is far more widespread. The snows of winter were a fraction of normal in the Pacific Northwest, and the salmon runs this summer have been disastrously low. Some of the eagles are looking to other prey, and heron chicks have been part of their diet. They were raiding the heron rookery.
The drama hasn't been confined to this year, I later found. Eagles drove off the entire heron colony at Beacon Hill Park in 2007, and I haven't been able to find when they came back, but they were there, but clearly living with the constant threat of attack. What a stressful existence.
I know it's the circle of life and all that, but I was glad not to witness nature raw in tooth and claw this particular evening. The eagles were lurking, but the herons were harassing them, trying to drive them off. They weren't going to be surprised.
Postscript: Reading up on the Great Blue Herons of Vancouver Island, I found that they are a subspecies (Ardea herodias fannini), that live on the Pacific Coast from Alaska to the Olympic Peninsula in Washington. Information about the subspecies can be found by clicking here.
It was marvelous having a chance to see such a grand bird up so close, even if its plumage made it look slightly ridiculous.
I've watched herons plenty of times before, and never really heard them make much noise. I wouldn't yet know their call if I heard it (you can follow this link to hear their normal call: http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Great_Blue_Heron/id).
I walked under a conifer along the pond and saw a familiar white coating that looked like snow but most certainly wasn't. There was a heron rookery overhead. About this time we heard an ungodly screeching up in the trees. I figured it was some kind of domestic dispute, or maybe juveniles calling for food, but there seemed to be an urgency, or even panic in the calls. I was starting to realize that something was off, but I couldn't see what was going on clearly high overhead.
I could see now that there were adult herons perched strategically all around the pond, as if acting like sentries. The man I had talked to before said that he thought they were looking out for the juvenile, that it might be having trouble getting back to its nest. That seemed reasonable, and Mrs. Geotripper and I walked on.
Then, Mrs. Geotripper saw them, flying into the pines on the east side of the pond. There were two Bald Eagles on the prowl, and they looked like they meant business. And that business didn't involve their usual diet of fish.
The drought that has affected California is far more widespread. The snows of winter were a fraction of normal in the Pacific Northwest, and the salmon runs this summer have been disastrously low. Some of the eagles are looking to other prey, and heron chicks have been part of their diet. They were raiding the heron rookery.
| Photo by Mrs. Geotripper |
I know it's the circle of life and all that, but I was glad not to witness nature raw in tooth and claw this particular evening. The eagles were lurking, but the herons were harassing them, trying to drive them off. They weren't going to be surprised.
| Two very different birds in one tree. |
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