Wildlife at Home, the Wetlands and Lakeside Park

I never know what I'll find when I go to Lakeside Park, and sometimes it isn't what I find, rather what finds me. Partly hidden behind the woodland's latticework of twigs and fallen branches, this coyote knew I was there. It could definitely hear my clumsy rubber boots and with the wind coming from behind me, it also had the advantage of scent, but it hadn't seen me yet. I knew that I only had a few moments, if that, to capture some photographs. My autofocus struggled, as did the coyote's sight, to cut through all of the obstructions between us, but I did somehow manage a few shots before the coyote disappeared into the undergrowth.  The unexpected often catches me unprepared. A little earlier in the morning, I was attempting to take a photo of the first migratory warbler that I have seen this year, a yellow-rumped warbler. The warbler would not sit still for an instant, and in the course of attempting to relocate the warbler, I was entirely ta

I have not been to Lakeside Park since the 2nd of April and I must admit that I am missing my walks around the lake and my observations of the wildlife there. Work has kept me too busy to even go through my photos, but I feel I should make an effort. The last time that I observed this bird at Lakeside Park was in October of 2019. From the front, it is a strange-looking creature with its black bib and those eyes that appear to see everything from every direction. It is remarkably hard to get close to. From the side, it is easily identifiable as a pied-billed grebe. It was extremely cautious, and the slightest suggestion that there may be something human-looking and it moved off, and out of range. I circled the lake a few times in my rubber boots attempting to sneak up unawares, but this grebe was way too canny for me. After my initial photos, the best that I could do was to take shots from a good distance away, and while being not very detailed, they do show what

Let me introduce you to a red squirrel named Flick. A mischievous character who I met on this beautifully sunny, first day of March. I dubbed this squirrel after his namesake in the movie, "A Christmas Story". The boy who, after taking a triple dog dare, got his tongue well and truly stuck to a flag pole. Here is Flick with his predicament. It looks hilarious, but no, Flick isn't really stuck. This behaviour is brought on when the caches of food for winter have all but run out, and it also coincides with the rising of the sap in trees, particularly maple trees as they have the highest sugar content. Here is Flick on a different tree, first giving the branch a little hug. And then chomp, in go the incisors. A bite deep enough to tap into the tree's xylem tissue. The sap then starts to flow from the wound, and Flick will return to lick off the sugary residue when most of the moisture has evaporated. The male red-winged blackbirds have return

When you consider the density of wildlife present at Lakeside Park, it is not surprising that the park also attracts lots of predators. Aerial predators are energy conscious and can oftentimes be hard to locate, as they are hidden from sight, watching and waiting for an opportunity that will not be a wasted effort. Sometimes, the lack of activity from the squirrels and birds is a giveaway; other times it is the overactivity, the noisy complaints targetted at the predator that gives away its location. It was the cawing of crows that made me look up as they mobbed this red-tailed hawk, forcing it to circle up and away from the park. Hearing, I find at times to be much more useful than sight when it comes to birdwatching. I know; it does seem to be a contradiction, but I was led to my next predator by listening to the complaints of chickadees. I was fortunate that the bright morning sunlight lit up the chest feathers of this Cooper's hawk, making it fairly easy to locate amo