Double-crested cormorants aren’t exactly rare at Ridgefield but they aren’t exactly common either. What is rare is to get such a nice close view, this one had just surfaced from fishing the waters of Bower Slough. The eyes of the cormorant are one of my favorites in all the bird kingdom.
I came across this marsh wren building its nest on a rainy spring day at Ridgefield. Before trying for pictures I watched it for a while to pick up its patterns and noticed it frequented two locations the most, the reeds above its nest where it would perch to sing, and some nearby cattails where it gathered nesting materials. I have a number of singing wren pictures so I opted for the cattails, and while I did get some nice pictures of it collecting fluff for its nest, I was surprised to find that one of my favorite pictures from the series was this picture of the wren doing absolutely nothing.
The wren frenetically flew between the cattails and its nest, sang to establish its territory, and hid from predators and others like the aggressive red-winged blackbird that periodically swooped down and landed at the nest. So I suppose I just like that, at least in the picture, the wet little brown bird can pause and rest in perpetuity.
A white-breasted nuthatch fledgling opens its mouth wide as its parent arrives with freshly caught insects. White-breasted nuthatches are cavity nesters, the adult below is sticking its head out of the nest as it prepares to fly off in search of more food for its hungry offspring. Adult nuthatches eat insects as well as seeds and nuts, but during the time I watched them the adults were only bringing insects to their brood.
As a child I was terrified not of Yuri Andropov but Leonid Brezhnev — not his politics but his eyebrows. When this agitated ruddy duck furrowed his head feathers into giant eyebrows I couldn’t help but think of the former Soviet leader. It was breeding season (for the duck, not the Soviets) and the male was annoyed by another in the area (his tail is also raised in defiance).
I’m not a biologist, but if you’re a Townsend’s vole and find yourself in this situation, you’re not having a good day.