Posts in Category: nature

Trout Lily

Trout Lily (Adder’s Tongue, Dogtooth Violet): Emmons’ Preserve, Kennebunkport, Maine, USA, May 2026 — My first trip to Emmons’ to look for Trout Lily a month ago, there were no leaves even showing. Yesterday I found them well scattered through all the likely spots, but not in bunches as I have seen them the past few years. I looked it up. Only 1% of Trout Lily plants flower each year. Those are the mature plants with two leaves. It takes between 4 and 7 years for a plant to mature, and maturation depends on the amount of sunlight the plant receives between the leaves emerging and the canopy closing over them. They tend to grow in patches where the spring canopy is thinnest and because they spread through a shared network of roots underground. On the plus side, if you view all the Trout Lily plants in a forest as a single organism, the trout lily in reactively undisturbed forests might be 1000s of years old. This is apparently a year when only a few plants have reached maturity, and when the already mature plants apparently did not store enough energy to produce a bloom this year, so flowers are few and far between. And many are very small (perhaps first-year blooms). It took me a long time to find a very few of what I would call full-blown Trout Lilies. These two were half the size of some of the others I found, and the ones I have come to expect. Sony a6700. Sigma 16-300 Contemporary at 105mm equivalent field of view. Aperture program with macro modifications: f22 for depth yielded 1/30th @ ISO 100. Working at ground level off my tiny tabletop carbon fiber tripod. (One of my best purchases ever!) The main limiting factor was the wind.

Pretty pidgins

Rock Doves: Kennebunk, Maine, USA, April 2026 — This pair of Rock Doves verily likely has a nest under the bridge on the way into our local beach. I am seeing them on almost every visit now. I am not sure that is a good thing, all things considered, since they are active nest predators of both the protected Piping Plovers and Least Terns that share the beach a few hundred yards away. I would not be surprised if Fish and Wildlife moved them on when nesting season is in full swing. Still, they are very handsome birds, especially these throwbacks to the original wild stock, with their subtle grays and that amazing iridescent green and violet, bright pink feet, and orange eye. And they are graceful flyers. I often mistake them for falcons on the wing. Sony a6700. Sigma 16-300 Contemporary at about 500mm equivalent field of view. Program with bird and wildlife modifications. Processed in Photomator.

On the beach

Kennebunk, Maine, USA, April 2026 — It seems we humans always want to improve the landscape—and certainly change the landscape whether we intend to or not. This old, bleached tree with its roots has been on the beach as long as I can remember, and it is a lovely thing—I am not sure why anyone would feel the need to turn it into a somewhat ragged-looking hut. And of course, someone is missing those lobster pots. Still, the universe has a way of creating harmony out of apparent discord, and this image somehow still hangs together and speaks of peace. Maybe it is the clouds? Sony a6700. Sigma 16-300 Contemporary at 35mm equivalent field of view. Auto with Landscape Mode selection. Processed in Photomator.

Plovers do what plovers do

Piping Plover: Kennebunk, Maine, USA, April 2026 — Besides the mating behavior I shared a few days ago, the Plovers on the beach were very busy feeding. I was watching the way they tap the sand rapidly with a forward foot and then swoop down on the creature they stir up. Moist sand or totally flooded sand, they use exactly the same technique. Clearly it works for them. There is a snippet of video to show the action. As often as I have watched plovers, this was the first time I had “seen” this. Which is what I love about watching birds (or humans for that matter, but when I watch humans this intently, it tends to make them nervous). Sony a7CR. Tamron 50-400 at about 1000mm equivalent field of view 700 for video, which is also cropped slightly. Program with bird and wildlife modifications. Processed in Photomator (video in LumaFusion).

Kestrel

American Kestrel: Kennebunk, Maine, USA, April 2026 — On my way into the beach to look for the first Piping Plovers of the year, a Kestrel took off from the top of one of the 15-foot-tall maples that now line the road. Too late to even consider stopping, but I told myself to look for it on the way back out. I was, as it happens, running late by the time I left the beach, good plover opportunities and a long conversation with a birder by the cars having ensued, and I almost forgot. But the Kestrel was there, probably in the same tree (though all the trees look the same), and I had to stop and roll down the window for a few awkward shots. I did not dare move the car or get out. I considered it a miracle that the Kestrel continued to sit there while I got the window down and the camera up. The light was not ideal, behind the bird, and the angle was awkward, but still, we take what we can get (and are generally happy to do so—since it is always more than we deserve or can reasonably expect). And the Kestrel is, if I admit to having favorites of any kind (which I seldom do), my favorite raptor—only it isn’t actually. The falcons are, modern genetics tells us, meat-eating parrots. And there is an image to conjure with. Only makes me like Kestrels more. Sony a7CR. Tamron 50-400 at about 800mm equivalent field of view. Program with bird and wildlife modifications. Processed in Photomator.

The beach and sky

The problem with panoramas is displaying them. This panorama, stitched together from five 24mm equivalent field of view shots in Bimostitch, closely replicates the 180-degree field of view of our eyes, but getting it to display on a digital display without losing all detail requires some trickery—like the surround in this finished image. I hope it works. I am a fan of dramatic skies, and of course, this image is much about the sky as it is about the landscape. The expanse of beach is impressive, but the sky really makes the shot. Sony a6700. Sigma 16-300 Contemporary. Auto with auto Landscape Scene Mode selection. Processed in Photomator and assembled in Bimostitch.

Piping Plover action

Piping Plovers: Kennebunk, Maine, USA, April 2026 — The Piping Plovers are back on our local beaches and showing signs of mating behavior. This is good. Piping Plovers populations in Maine are slowly rebounding from a historical low in the early 80s of 6 nesting pairs to last year’s number of 170 nesting pairs. If you visit southern Maine beaches, you will see the roped-off nesting areas. Please do not violate them. You will also see Piping Plovers running loose on the beach. Please respect their space. Please stop before the birds react to your presence and go well around them. If you want a closer view, stop where you are, before the birds react, and stand still. Very often, the birds will come to you. I have never been able to figure out way, but it happens consistently enough so that I now expect it. All of these photos were taken with a very long lens (after cropping in the 1000=1200mm equivalent field of view range), and I stood still and waited for the birds. After taking these photos, I continued to stand until the birds had moved well away. Even so, it is not something I would do every day. Once a week is about my limit. And I remind tourists on every visit. Mind the ropes, control your kids and pets, and do not chase the birds. Still, Plovers nest successfully on visited beaches for a reason—not simply because there is nowhere else for them to nest. Human activity means there are fewer predators. Dogs mean no cats or foxes. Human presence discourages gulls and pigeons from opportunistic feeding on eggs and chicks. Often, there is a paid nest monitor on sight to further protect the nests and chicks. As long as we respect the birds, we get to enjoy them, and they produce more viable chicks to aid the recovery of the species. Win-win, as they say. Sony a7CR. Tamron 50-400 as above. Program with bird and wildlife modifications. Processed in Photomator.

Waders

Greater Yellowlegs vs Willet: Kennebunk, Maine, USA, April 2026 — While not nearly as difficult as yesterday’s comparison (Purple and House Finch), the Greater Yellowlegs and the Willet are often seen together as the Yellowlegs pass through southern Maine on the way to their breeding grounds. The Willets nest here and are around at least through mid-summer. Of course, if you can get a clear look at the legs, the Yellowlegs is unmistakable, but sometimes you cannot see the legs at all, or the birds are too distant for the color to make an impression. This is a Greater Yellowlegs, by the way, and you can tell by the length of the bill compared to the head, and by size if you have the two Yellowlegs together. Though there is overlap in size between the GYL and the Willet, the Willet is slightly larger, and definitely more “chesty”—it carries its weight further forward and makes the GYL look quite slender and elegant by comparison. Think hockey player and figure skater. You can see this difference from a much greater distance than the color of the legs. Also, the Willet is a brown bird, and the Yellowlegs is a grey bird. That too can be seen from a distance if you are paying attention. If the legs are hidden, the bill on the GYL is thinner, and solid black, while the Willet’s bill is thicker and noticeably bi-colored, with a lighter base near the face of the bird. But it is not about what I see. It is about what you see, and these two photos give you a chance to figure that out for yourselves 🙂 And in reality it is not about individual details at all. It is about overall impression. Good birders do not identify birds, they recognize them, the way we recognize an old friend we have not seen in months all the way across a parking lot. Sony a7CR. Tamron 50-400 at about 1000mm equivalent field of view (heavily cropped). Program with bird and wildlife modifications. Processed in Photomator. Assembled in FrameMagic.

Purple vs House Finch

House and Purple Finch: Kennebunk, Maine, USA, April 2026 — One of the most common confusions among those who appreciate birds: is it a House Finch or is it a Purple Finch? Here in southern Maine, we have both, seasonally, and sometimes both year-round. Working from my photo blind, I was able to get close-ups of both in the past few days, so I thought I would post them together so you (and I) can learn to appreciate the difference. The color difference is actually more subtle than you might expect. A bright male House Finch is just as intense as a bright male Purple Finch, and unless you see them together, the difference between the orangey red of the House and the more bluey red (raspberry) of the Purple can be easy to miss. Probably my most reliable tell is the boldness of the pattern. I said recently that the House is a pen and ink drawing, and the Purple is a watercolor. There is much more “bleeding” of the red into the darker shades and lighter shades of the chest and back. Also, the pattern on the chest of the House is red on gray, and the pattern on the chest of the Purple is red on white. Finally, the Purple totally lacks the strong grey on white streaking on the body under the wings. And while it is not so obvious in these photos, the Purple is a chunkier bird, and the House more slender. And if you really want to get nit-picky, notice the slight curve in the upper half of the House Finch’s beak and compare it to the straight edge of the Purple Finch’s beak. (You have to be pretty close to see that.) I have a trained eye, and I still have to look twice at every male finch I see this time of year. Sony a7CR. Tamron 150-500 on a tripod at about 800mm equivalent field of view. Program with bird and wildlife modifications. Processed in Photomator and assembled in FrameMagic.

Eastern Bluebird at the feeder

Eastern Bluebird: Kennebunk, Maine, USA, April 2026 — As I said a few days ago, sometimes feeder shots can display a range of behavior and postures that it would take a long time to catch on any other perch. So here you have such a range. Bluebirds are, to my eye, one of the more expressive birds—or at least one of the more relatable birds. We can easily see ourselves in them, in a way that might make ourselves easier to see. If I ask you what you see in these postures, I suspect you will not have any trouble telling me, and I have to suspect that it will tell me more about you than it does about bluebirds. In a very real sense, my photos and my selections tell you more about me than they do about bluebirds. 🙂 Sony a7CR. Tamron 150-500 at about 800mm equivalent field of view. Program with bird and wildlife modifications. Processed in Photomator and assembled in FrameMagic.