Ice Abstracts-Part 2

The onset of the Wisconsin winter is not fun for me. Most of the "good" birds have begun their outward migration, the sun seldom appears, eagles are AWOL, and my body begins its hibernation mode by turning me into "Jabba the Fred."

So I forced myself to go outside one day while the sun was present to find something I could photograph. I ended up at Covered Bridge Park in Cedarburg and noticed that the ice had only partly covered areas of Cedar Creek, leaving some very interesting photo ops.

I often try to imagine whatever landscape photo I take as potentially ripe for change into an art photo. Minimal editing can do this, as you'll see below. I'll use two of the photos as examples, but the rest are finished products.

The tree branch reflection in this photo is not yet covered by ice but its surroundings show thin ice starting to form on the water.

This is the same photo after changing the orientation, modifying exposure, enlarging and cropping. Now it's more like an art photo (excuse my lack of humility, I was born that way.

                                                             

The photo below is the original, depicting a tree reflection in ice near the creek's bank.

The above photo has been edited to change only the orientation, and the result is abstract and much more interesting. 

The remaining three photos, taken at the same location, have all been edited to some extent. 

Hope you like them!

                                                 

Mishmash

It's been some time since my last post, mainly because of the limitations of walking around the usual haunts during cold and windy Wisconsin weather, hoping to catch sight of the birds that haven't quite understood the concept of migration.

So, the photos in this post are ones I think you've not seen in past postings but are among my favorites.

During a pontoon boat trip at Horicon Marsh, we surprised this Blue Heron and it let us know that it was angry about the interruption by screeching its displeasure.

   Great Blue Herons in flight are graceful and beautiful by all measures.

A Sandhill Crane flying across a field, not really disturbed by the attention it's getting.

Autumn in Wisconsin is one of the prevailing reasons we stick around. This photo was taken at the Thiensville Dam during full foliage.

I visit the Forest Beach Migratory Preserve every so often and this scene caught my eye because of its textured, other-worldly look. It also looks like the cereal I eat.

Some of you might have seen this before, so skip it if you must, but it's a favorite of mine...the Cedarburg Mill taken from the pedestrian bridge over Cedar Creek.

Speaking of Cedarburg, this was taken one early winter morning during the Christmas season when no cars or tourists were around. So why was I there so early?

Look closely at this huge Red-Tailed Hawk and you'll see that it's warily staring at me. It took flight shortly after I snapped the pic.

I've unsuccessfully stalked the Belted Kingfisher many times, so I was gratefully startled when this one landed in a tree close to where I was standing. The "belted" look describes the chestnut band around the chest of the female kingfisher.

The Kingfisher's head looks too large for its body and its beak is also disproportionately large, making me wonder if during a crucial moment when God was making the Kingfisher the doorbell rang.

BTW, I think the white spot near the eye is to fool predators into thinking it's the actual eye. 

                    


 The simplest patterns of nature often produce the most beautiful results. Get out and observe!

Ospreys in Thiensville

In what has become more and more common, Ospreys are being spotted throughout Wisconsin, but little did we know that they are such rabid baseball fans. A friend told me about three Ospreys in a nest at a baseball field adjacent to the Milwaukee River in Thiensville. The nest is atop a lighting fixture in center field, and people frequenting a nearby tennis court and playground don't seem to bother the birds.

                 
      One of the Ospreys reminded me of a neighborhood "peeper."

             

Ospreys feed exclusively on fish, and those eyes can spot a fish in water from extreme heights as they soar in circles and scan the water below.

Once they snare a fish, they return to the nest for feeding, reluctantly sharing the catch.

During one of the several days I was watching the Ospreys, I thought I spotted one returning to the nest with a large fish, but it turned out to be a sizable tree branch, used to upgrade the condition of  their nest without the cost of an expensive designer/contractor!

It was even more impressive to see the Osprey with the setting moon in view.

The Osprey's wingspan is from 5 to 6 feet or more, and they are beautiful to watch in flight.

Toward the end of the time I allotted to this photo shoot, I hoped to see an Osprey diving into the river, feet first, snaring a huge fish with its barb-like talons and, fighting the fast moving river current, rising like Icarus in triumph!

Ah, well, on my last day I saw the Osprey flying past me with a bright red-orange fish held tight by talons. A closer observation revealed the awful truth. The Osprey had located a Koi pond somewhere and, without hunter-shame, stole a rather large, no doubt expensive, fish that had nowhere to hide.

Great Horned Owl

The life of the bird photographer is very hard and often dangerous. My latest project took me to the wilds of suburban Whitefish Bay, past gardens of the evil kale and prehistoric rhododendron plants, finally reaching the territory of the Starbucks and Condo tribes where the elusive Great Horned Owl lives.

For the next 10 days I snapped as many photos of the owls as possible under dangerous conditions, knowing that a trip to the Kopps oasis would take almost 15 minutes by foot. 

This was the only adult owl I saw during the time I was there. I don't know if it was the male or female but I suspect that it's the female.

Note the amazing camouflage of the wings in the photo below, making it very                                 difficult for prey to spot the owl among the trees. 

                                                

                 

   This is the first photo of an owlet that I snapped. It was probably 7 or 8 weeks old, since owlets can fly at 9-10 weeks, according to the literature that I read. I soon spotted two more owlets but they were seldom all together.

A week into the session, these two owlets put on a show for me, grooming one another and giving the viewers an "Aww!" moment.

                                                                                       

           

                       






                                        "Look what I can do!"









               On the last day that I saw the owls I got a preview of what would happen the next day.

The owlets were testing their wings and making short flights from tree to tree.

I was lucky to get the following shot of one of the owlets flying.

On the 11th day, the owls were gone. Maybe forever or maybe they'll be back tomorrow, but I knew that they'll never call, never write...because owls can't do that!

Many thanks to friends who initially alerted me to the owls' presence!

Owl be seeing you...

My last post featured a lone Barred Owl in hunting mode. As it turns out, it was probably Mama (Roseanne Barred) owl. Shortly after these encounters, Mama disappeared, and then one day reappeared in a different wooded area located over a shallow pond.

It was fortuitous that one day I spotted Mom fluttering around a hole in a dead tree and realized that she was probably feeding owlets.

A very considerate bird-lover who owned the property where the tree stood allowed me to access her land and get a better position for photo-ops.










At first it seemed like only one owlet was present, but then I got lucky. As I was scouting out one part of the property my eye caught some activity at the base of a nearby tree at the edge of the pond.

I used to say, "I'll eat kale when owls climb trees." Well, I lied...I still won't eat kale, but I saw an owlet climb a tree. The bird apparently left the nest and tried to fly but, like me playing golf,  overestimated its athletic capability.

Much to my surprise, the owlet began to climb the tree. I didn't give it much of a chance, but in the next series of photos you'll see that it used its beak, talons, and wings to climb the tree to safety.

                                                                                                

It took a total of seven minutes, but the persistent owlet reached a safe spot in the tree. I stayed for a while but moved after 45 minutes and witnessed another owlet adventure.

Another owlet was perched on top of the nesting tree, and, camera at the ready in anticipation of a test flight, I watched the owlet for 30 minutes.

                            Of course, as soon as I relaxed my grip, the owlet took off, and, like its sibling, was unable to sustain its course and came crashing down in the pond, not very far from where I was. Looking rather bored and sad, it posed for a series of shots.

  




Mama owl was anxiously watching from above, and the owlet soon waddled off to an area where I could not see it, maybe looking for a chance to climb a tree like its sibling!

Two days later, I spotted the third owlet in a tree. No misadventures recorded. I also noted that all three owlets were safely perched in trees, waiting for the moment when they would fly as far as they dared, away from the voyeur photographer. 

This was the last photo I took of Mama and, not wanting to overstay my welcome at the property, I never returned.

My thanks to the patient property owner for giving me such an opportunity to get these photos!