outdoors

Tracy Avenue resident Richard Stevens holds a bass he said weighed in at 5 pounds and was 20-inches long. Stevens and his friend Gavin Demmer, he said, caught it at Dewitt Recreation Area this afternoon.

The photo above depicts a Canadian sunset over a placid and serene Lac Remigny. The photo was provided courtesy of Batavians Larry Smith and Paul Barrett, two longtime outdoorsmen who head to the North Country in pursuit of black bears.

It turns out the pair had themselves an adventure, one they chose to share with The Batavian. And as you will see from their photos, in addition to their pursuit of black bears, the pair took time to enjoy the scenery, the wildlife and the hospitality.

Their trip began in early June with an eight-hour drive to Remigny, Quebec, Canada, where Barrett and Smith renewed acquaintances with Mark Kepka and his wife, Gosia, the owner/operators of Camps Ronoda. 

Barrett and Smith arrived at Remigny on Saturday, June 9th and the next evening ventured to their assigned hunting locations for the first time. Hunting 16 miles from camp and posted three miles from one another, both Batavians saw bears that first evening on stand. Photo above shows the roads and terrain they traveled through to get to their stands.

"I saw my first bear in the wild that Sunday evening," said Larry Smith, who was hunting from a ladder stand.

Heeding the camp owner's words, he passed on the opportunity to shoot even though the bear was within 20 yards of him.

"The bigger bears will tend to show up later in the week. Because you are a 'strange' odor in the area, the big bears will keep their distance until they get accustomed to your scent," Smith said, echoing his host's advice. "During that time you tend to see smaller bears. Mark told us to be patient, wait until midweek if we want to see bigger bears."

Instead of shooting, Larry put his camcorder to use and got some footage of his first bruin encounter.

That same evening Paul Barrett also had an encounter with a black bear, though a bit more confrontational than this marauding raccoon he photographed as it raided the bait bucket.

Unlike his companion, Barrett was not in a ladder stand, but instead situated on a rock outcropping overlooking the bait pail.

"A big bear came in from right to left, 12 feet below and 20 yards away," he said. "It sniffed the air then ran off into thick brush. Ten minutes later I heard his teeth snapping -- definitely not a good sign. The bear was by that time behind me, over my left shoulder about 20 feet away. Now above and behind me, the bear lumbered back and forth, trying to get me to move," he continued.

With his Remington model 700 338/06 custom-built rifle in his lap, Paul opted for his camcorder and, as his companion had done, got several minutes of footage, albeit in dense brush. The bear eventually walked off.

On Tuesday, June 12th, Larry Smith was once again seated in his ladder stand when, at about 8 p.m. he noticed movement on the ground below and to his left.

"She came in on the same path I had used to walk in four hours earlier," he said. "She stopped briefly at the base of my ladder and looked up at me before moving on. She went straight to the bait pail, situated 6 feet off the ground and full of ground up cookies and meat scraps." It was noted that the bait pails are placed at the 6-foot height to give the hunter an indication of the bear's size. 

"She reared up on her hind legs facing away from me and began removing meat scraps from the pail, at which time I decided to harvest this bear." A single 180-grain bullet from Smith's Remington 700 30-06 did the trick. "She fell backward, then ran about 25 yards before she collapsed," he concluded.   

By then it was getting dark in the dense woods and, having previously heard reports of wolves -- or even larger bears -- that will come in to a kill, Larry thought it a good idea to get the outfitter on his way.

"He needed to travel 16 miles and offload his ATV so let's get him started in this direction," he thought to himself. When Mark Kepka arrived the first words out of his mouth -- before spotting the bear -- were, "Is it dead?" His concern was tracking a wounded bear in the the bush, nighttime or otherwise. I was also informed Kepka carries no gun in such a situation, only a flashlight and a knife. The task of finishing off a wounded bear is left to the hunter.

Paul Barrett was also at the scene by the time Mark Kepka had arrived. And he had some news of his own.

"I was sitting on the same rock outcropping when I heard Larry's shot. I immediately texted him and learned of his kill. I then texted my wife, Kathleen, back home in Batavia to her inform her of Larry's kill." 

No sooner had Paul done that when he had a visitor.

"Approximately seven minutes after texting my wife, a bear approached from behind and over my right shoulder. It then wandered off to my right for a couple of minutes before circling around me and heading directly for the bait. It stood on its hind legs and I put one shot right between the shoulder blades."     

Meanwhile, Larry is back at his stand, not having heard the report of his companion's gun and waiting for Mark to arrive. At this time he, too, decided to text his wife, Julie, and daughter, Melissa. Like Kathleen, their reaction was one of excitement, delight and enthusiasm.

Paul's big boar weighed in at 400 pounds, while Larry's tipped the scale at 200. The bears were 5 and 9 years of age and by their calculations, they were taken 11 minutes apart.

"The morning after the bear harvest we had a photo shoot before Mark and his dad, Henry, skinned and quartered both bears before freezing them. We each brought back four quarters of bear meat plus the pelts," said Paul, who plans on having a rug made from his bear hide while Larry opted for a full standup mount. 

Both Paul Barrett and Larry Smith pointed out that when they began the search process for an outfitter, the Kepkas came highly recommended and they actually met with them three times prior to their hunt.

"I would classify the Kepka's operation at Camps Ronoda as remarkable -- accommodations, meals, hospitality, amenities, all of it," Larry Smith said.

His sentiments were echoed by Paul Barrett who also lauded the culinary skills of Gosia Kepka.

"Truly remarkable. She cooked two meals a day, breakfast and dinner," he said. When I asked about lunch, he quickly added, "you don't need lunch -- the portions at breakfast and dinner are huge."

Camps Ronoda has been outfitting sportsmen since 1948. In addition to bear hunters, they serve fishermen, duck and goose hunters and offer grouse, woodcock and small game hunts. 

They can be contacted at:

1337 Rue de L' Eglise

Remigny, Quebec, JOZ 3110

1-877-761-2591

It was last Friday morning and despite the early hour the air temperature was climbing rapidly and the humidity was killer; couple that with the fact I was running on not much more than an hour of sleep and it seemed like I was going to be in for a long day. Doug Harloff, on the other hand, was his usual self -- chipper, upbeat, and eager to get down to the business at hand. I didn't know it then, but my disposition would soon match his and my lack of sleep quickly forgotten.

Our original plan called for a trip to Lake Erie to see about putting a dent in the walleye population, but at the last minute Doug suggested we play the waters of Lake Ontario, "steelhead fishin's been good" he said. As tired as I was, I figured it a good idea to be as close to home as possible. I readily agreed and moments later we were on our way to Point Breeze. 

Doug was still setting out lines when the first fish struck, a feisty steelhead rainbow that quickly got the adrenaline flowing. That said, any sleep deprivation dissipated immediately. The sight of a steelhead leaping clear of the water then tailwalking across the surface or the powerful run of a king salmon has a way of rejuvenating even the most bleary-eyed angler. And on this day we would be accommodated by both species. The king salmon pictured above made several line-sizzling runs, taking out nearly 370 feet of line!

Initially, Doug rigged up two downriggers, a planer board and a flat-line rig with lead core line, the latter being run some 300 feet behind the boat. Each rig produced at least one fish, most of which came from the 60 foot level in waters ranging from 150 - 250 feet deep. Northern King spoons were the hot bait, notably Dream Weaver 42nd's and black NK spoons with silver tape.

The further out on the lake we went the more we felt the breeze and the air temperature cooled somewhat. For the time being we had left some of the heat and humidity behind. From our position about two miles offshore it was difficult to make out the shoreline shrouded in haze. By the time we were ready to call it a day we had four steelheads and two kings in the hold.   

Because Doug lets nothing go to waste whether it be fish, waterfowl, upland game or venison, his recipes for fish and game are vast and varied. And because I would be bringing home an ample supply of fillets, I asked his opinion. Everything he suggested sounded great, the only trouble being, I could only try one recipe at a time. The following evening my wife and I dined on blackened Cajun salmon fillets cooked on the grill. The meal was delicious and the hum of the air conditioner made it all the more enjoyable.

Thanks Doug - it was a great day!

.........................................................."Marco!"................................

.........................................................."Polo!".................................

"Psssst........hey, Murray - you better watch yourself - I think he stashed a ladder in the bushes."

"Not to mention he also opens his eyes....see, what'd I tell ya?"

"I see 'em. Drat, this isn't gonna be as easy as I thought."

In this version of the "fox vs. squirrels," at the end of the day the fox's crockpot remained empty!

During my Friday morning drive, I took a turn down Oakta Trail Road and spotted somebody in the creek tying a fly to a leader. I introduced myself to Bill Westfall of Cheektowaga, who said, "Sure, go ahead and take some pictures." In the 15 minutes I hung around, his every cast hit his spot and he did land one small trout. 

There was no mistaking the telltale markings. Even at a distance the wing span, white heads and white tail patches indicated we were looking at a pair of bald eagles in flight. While the pair of eagles soared above the Genesee River, Le Royan Jerry Fitzsimmons and his grandson, Ryan Fitzsimmons, of Caledonia, were gliding past the right bank in a tandem kayak. Riding the current, Jerry maneuvered quietly, hoping to get close enough for photos. Finally, one of the eagles alit on the remains of a weathered log, enabling Jerry to get a few pics before it once again took flight.   

It was day three and the final leg of a canoe trip that included, in addition to Jerry and Ryan, Andrew and Kathleen Hulme, of Pavilion, Christine Hayes, a Pavilion currently residing in Brockport, Batavians Jeremy and Amy Fitzsimmons, and myself.

Our river run began late on a Friday in the Allegeny town of Caneadea. A short paddle on the Rushford Lake overflow took us onto the Genesee River. That first day on the river found us still paddling as the sun drew near the horizon and Jeremy opted for a suitable gravel bar to set up our tents. Our campsite wasn't really lined with gravel, but rocks of all sizes that had been washed and shaped by the river for ages.

Camping on a gravel bar has its perks -- with no woodland canopy to contend with, we had an unobstructed view of the night sky. And what a view it was. There, nestled between the hills of the Southern Tier and shielded from even the faintest light from nearby towns, the river bottom was dark. The temperature dropped into the 40s that night with the air crisp and cool. When I woke during the wee hours the sight overhead was nothing short of spectacular. I never bothered with the camera -- combined with the surrounding darkness and the still of the night, a photo would never have done justice to the nocturnal panorama overhead.

I was still half asleep when a turkey began to gobble somewhere in woods along the river. Judging from the frequency of his calls, the tom was intent on finding a hen. Once the sun climbed above the horizon grosbeaks began to sing while Jerry prepared a hearty breakfast of sausage, potatoes, eggs and hot coffee. After scalding my lips on the coffee, it was time to break camp and load the canoes for day two on the river.

Because each craft was laden with gear, each day prior to setting out Jerry loaded the canoes, maintaing a proper balance. Because the Genesee is, as Jeremy described it, a "pool and drop" river, Jerry's expertise proved invaluable, particularly encountering the fast water found wherever the river dropped in elevation and did so at a sharp bend.

Jerry first paddled a canoe at the age of 9. His favorite haunt in those early years was an area of Oatka Creek known as Bailey's Mills near the Le Roy-Pavilion border. He and son Jeremy have been running rivers for decades, both as licensed NYS guides and recreational paddlers. Experienced and accommodating on the river, they not only served as our guides but also our outfitters and camp cooks as well. All they asked of us was to enjoy the trip...no problem! 

At noon of our second day we stopped for lunch on a gravel bar where the river flows past Fillmore. Another two hours of paddling took us to Rossburg where the Wiscoy Creek spills into the Genesee. That's where we made camp for our second night and it's also where we spotted one of two beavers we saw along the route. This one was busy making repairs to its home.

We saw several mergansers on the river and early that evening, not far from camp, Jerry spotted a fox kit and shortly thereafter located a den. When Jerry returned with his camera the young fox was nowhere to be seen, but he did find some turkey remains, including an entire wing, quills still intact. Evidently the mother fox had been teaching her kits the finer points in stalking North America's wiliest game bird.  

I'm not sure what Jerry's pointing at here. Could have been a heron, hawk, deer or beaver.

Cliff swallows were active wherever the river bank afforded them a place to live. The bluff pictured above contained a sizeable colony, literally dozens of small caves where the species make their homes.

While the entire trip proved to be a relatively comfortable paddle, our last morning on the river provided a few more stretches of white water along with a few obstacles. At times we had to contend with submerged boulders that came into view at the last second or bony tree limbs sticking out of the water. When the potential trouble spots were located in a bend and the current suddenly picks up speed, it required some hard paddling and oftentimes a quick change of direction, kind of like negotiating a "river chicane." Such maneuvers were exhilarating and challenging and a great way to end the trip. Our trip came to an end at Portageville after covering an estimated 30 miles on the river.

A hearty thanks to my fellow paddlers for a fun experience and for sharing photos!

Kevin Sheehan caught a nice 5-pound bass at Dewitt Park yesterday.

Mike and Laura were doing a little yard clean up when Mike went to grab a fallen tree branch. It stopped when he spotted a bunny hiding in the wedding bells. Laura ran in, grabbed her camera, attached a long lens and was able to snap this shot before the bunny hopped away.

Before gusting winds shook loose the last of the apple blossoms, we were able to get a few good pics of the orioles that always show up to dine on the insects that call the small white flowers home.

Whether or not they've already paired up, both the male and female partake of the feast.

This male really has his head into his work!

The apple blossoms and the insects inside provide a great opportunity to get oriole pics. Once the blossoms fall to the ground, the orioles don't return to the apple tree. But they do nest in the woodlots to either side of our home and despite the foliage there is no mistaking the orioles delightful sound.

Batavian Jeff Gillard paid me a visit a week ago, telling me about a red fox den nearby his home. Hoping to get photos of kits Jeff had been seeing, that same evening Claudia and I set up in said location during the last hour of daylight as Jeff had suggested but saw only one of the adults.

The next evening proved futile as nothing entered the meadow. Jeff then came to the rescue, providing the photos seen here. Above is one of the adults with a kit at her side while far to the right and somewhat difficult to see is another one of her young.

One of the adults appears to be investigating a kill.  

A quick scan of its surroundings prior to digging in.

Time to chow down.

Despite the undergrowth, Jeff caught one of the young near the den entrance.

It pauses to scratch an itch...

...before moving onward.

Whitetail doe still in her winter coat.

It won't be too long before they'll be sporting their "summer reds." Good job, Jeff, and thanks very much for sharing these photos with us!

If the moon seemed especially big and bright Saturday night -- that's because it was.

The moon was at the point on its elliptical path called perigee, the point where passes closest to Earth. At this point, it is 31,000 miles to closer than the opposite side of its orbit, or apogee.

While the full moon appears largest just after it rises, it officially reached its closest point to Earth at 11:34 pm. Exactly one minute later, the moon, Earth and sun line up and this allows the moon to achieve its full brilliance -- 30-percent brighter and 14-percent larger than any other full moon this year. 

Here framed by spruce boughs, the brilliance of the full moon will have drowned out all but the brightest fireballs of the Aquarid meteor shower, also on tap Saturday night, according to NASA.

Officially, this year's supermoon was "eclipsed" by the supermoon of March 2011, which passed by Earth some 250 miles closer than this year's.

While the weather on Monday and Tuesday was a bit of a curveball for man and beast alike, by first light on Wednesday the sound of upbeat chirps and warbles once again emanated from the woods out back.

While the robins, cardinals and noisy flickers were all on hand, it was the bluebird that caught my attention. Unlike past encounters, the male, though it flitted from time to time, never strayed too far, allowing me to take its picture.

Shortly thereafter he was joined by this female.

While trying to focus on the male, I inadvertantly left her head out of the frame.

Meanwhile, in the front yard a lone chirping sparrow appears to be searching for a meal. 

It wasn't alone for long, as two others flew in to claim dibs. It's always nice to hear and see the songbirds, and good to see the sun shining again.

We've evidenced prolific bird life so far this spring. This robin was perched in the cottonwood while singing its praises of the day as I snapped the photo.

A male cardinal appears to be on the lookout high in our apple tree. Actually he was listening for the whistle of a female -- after she made a flyby, off he went in pursuit.  

For the second consecutive year, the bluebirds are nesting nearby -- this female was flitting about in our backyard.

The telltale red marking on the back of its head gave away this northern flicker perched in the sumac.

He seems to be sizing up the sumac drupes...something I've not seen before. We usually see them probing the soil for grubs.

A lone mourning dove poking around the stubble

This duck-like creature is actually a coot, member of the rail family. Instead of webbed feet, it possesses three long pointy toes, which enable it to run across the water and matted vegetation.

Often seen with ducks, the coot is an excellent swimmer and diver, feeding mainly on aquatic vegetation.

I ended up taking an unplanned drive this morning, straying further then intended, and then when heading back toward the city, I spotted our outdoor columnist Jim Nigro by the side of the road, with his camera in hand. I stopped to say hello and he invited me to join him at one of his favorite locations for a little nature photography.

The wetlands in early spring have an allure all their own. Long before the first green buds or shoots begin to emerge, a cacophony of spring peepers permeates the air as nature begins her own seasonal celebration. In the above photo, a late afternoon sun casts a golden brown tint on last year's cattails. 

Here in the Oak Orchard Wildlife Management Area it's a good time to watch migrating waterfowl and an opportunity to see the diving ducks that will later congregate on the bigger bodies of water. 

This pair of honeymooning honkers is all set for the mating season. An incredible number of geese wintered in the region, many of which began nesting weeks ago.  

Redwing blackbirds have a penchant for teetering on cattails. Another harbinger of spring, as soon as the spring peepers begin their serenade, the redwings won't be far behind.   

Flooded timber is a wood duck magnet.

What a difference a week makes. Last week's unseasonably warm weather may be the reason for the algae blooms that sprung up in several marshes on the refuge.

A trio of painted turtles catching some sun atop a muskrat den. 

A flock consisting mainly of widgeons makes a migratory respite while a lone swan hugs the shoreline in the background. We saw no puddle ducks such as mallards and woodies, but there were a number of ringneck ducks and scaup on the marsh.

Already new shoots and buds are beginning to appear across the wetland and scenes such as the one above will change drastically as last year's cattails will soon be lost in this spring's greenery. 

This pileated woodpecker is hard at work high atop one of the utility poles of   National Grid's power line.  

I was raking our back yard when I heard its telltale and raucous cuk-cuk-cuk-cuk. That was followed by the sound of it hammering away at what I thought was a tree in my neighbor's woodlot.   

Still thinking it was in the woods, every few minutes I'd stop raking and look into the trees. The pileated had been at it for quite awhile before I spotted him, so I had no reason to think it wouldn't stay a bit longer. With that, I went inside to get the camera.

Quite often we see red-tail hawks perched atop the utility poles but this is the first time I've seen a pileated woodpecker have a go at them. And he didn't seem to be in any hurry to leave -- he was still there when I finished raking.      

That's Leon Selapack, owner of L & L Transmission, holding a pair of lobsters. Photo was taken in late February 2003 near Johnny's Cay, offshore from the island of Abaco, Bahamas. Leon was part of a group that included Batavians Ricky Moore, Scott Offhaus, former Batavian John Fanara and myself. This being his first spearfishing adventure, Leon was a "rookie on the reef," so to speak. The pics were from day three of a week-long outing in which Leon would learn that, while everyone in the group enjoys a good shark story, it's not necessarily fun to be part of one.   

I once read the words of a veteran diver who said, in reference to encounters with predatory sharks, Man, when he starts swinging his head from side to side, it's a good time to be somewhere else"......Those words were far from my mind as I swam toward the bottom amid the square miles of patchwork coral found offshore of the outer islands of Abaco.

Before trying his hand with a Hawaiian sling, Leon decided to take a few pics. Here he caught me armed with a sling, skirting the edge of a coral head and peering into the recesses where fish hide out. Shortly afterward in this very spot, the first shark showed up. It was just off the bottom over a sandy pocket and eight or nine feet long. What's more,  it was close -- too close. And it wasn't just shakings its head from side to side - its whole body seemed to be writhing as it twisted and turned, just a whole lot of rapid movement. It was clearly in a state of agitation.  

Click on the headline to read more.

After surfacing Leon and I made for the boat, keeping an eye on our backside  the entire way. Once on board, we all agreed it would be a good time to relocate. That's Scott at the helm with John Fanara next to him.

After a short boat ride we prepared for another dive. While putting on my fins I was looking at the red and white candy cane pattern of the Hopetown lighthouse on Elbow Cay when Scott asked if I had seen any barracuda yet. Up to that point I hadn't seen a single one, which I thought was unusual.

After donning fins and masks, three of us reentered the water, John and myself with slings, Leon carrying only a camera. It didn't take long for us to put considerable distance between one another. Though unintentional, our going off in different directions was not a particularly good idea.

I don't think we were back in the water for half an hour when shark number two showed up. And I'm sure it was only coincidence but, with this being Leon's first spearfishing venture and armed with nothing but a camera, you probably don't need to guess who the shark took an interest in.

Leon managed to snap this photo before he discovered the shark had "taken a liking" to him. Once he realized the shark wasn't simply passing by, Leon's only concern was getting back to the boat.

The shark's tail appears small and its sickle-shape nearly impossible to make out. With its perpetual sweeping motion, Leon snapped the pic on the "backsweep," with the tail directly away from the camera. The white blur in the lower left corner is one of Leon's fingertips.

With John off in one direction and me in another and totally unaware of our companion's plight, Leon must have felt like an island. In fact, while Leon was being harrassed by the shark John was totally enrapt with the marine life,  particularly a large group of juvenile barracuda, a school numbering 100-200 fish slowly swimming past.  

Meanwhile the shark wouldn't go away, instead moving in closer, making a few passes and following Leon's every move. As a group, we've all had shark encounters in the past, but always without incident. This was unusual, especially since we hadn't speared any fish up to that point. Still, the shark insisted on stalking Leon, and for him each minute must have seemed like an hour and the possibility of an attack very real.

Much to Leon's relief, Scott and Ricky finally got him on board and John and I were picked up moments later. In the photo above, John removes his gear as we get under way to relocate for a second time that morning.

Leon quickly shook off any feelings of trepidation and was back in the water in no time. He did, however, choose to leave the camera on board and take a sling over the side instead. Not long afterward he took his first lobster. 

Scott prepares to hand off his sling before climbing aboard. Sometime after the shark incident John, Scott and myself were swimming over a submerged reef when we spotted an octopus several feet below. As I dove for a closer look, the octopus changed its coloration for an instant. In the blink of an eye it flashed a brilliant white, then quickly changed back to a drab brownish-green. With that it jettisoned off the reef, leaving behind a cloud of ink. I once thought such a tactic was a defense mechanism, but I've since learned that quickly turning white is their first reaction when frightened.

Here's Ricky Moore. In addition to spearfishing, Ricky tends to captain's duties when Scott is diving. He also serves as troubleshooter for the group, real "MacGuyver" who has made emergency repairs on the water, ranging from fixing a faulty bilge pump to jerry-rigging the surgical tubing on our slings. 

This is John and I with a quartet of "sters" as John would say. Like Ricky, John is a multi-tasker on these trips: he's not only productive with a sling in his hands, he also cleans the entire day's catch and tends to the chef duties. Thanks to his culinary skills, dinner most evenings was a veritable feast of seafood and pasta. 

With its frilly edge, this pure white flatfish looked like a lace doily. A type of  flounder or sole, after taking the photo I gave it a gentle nudge with my sling and off it went, moving through the water like a magic carpet before settling onto the sandy bottom. There it blended in so well it literally disappeared before my eyes.  

With a breaker crashing over the outermost reef in the background, Leon relaxes on the bow.

A few days later we boarded the puddle-jumper for the first leg of our trip home. Even before our plane neared the end of the runway it was airborne and after gaining altitude I was able to see the Hopetown lighthouse. From there it was easy to pick out Johnny's Cay just to the north. Beyond Johnny's was the turquoise-blue water that covered the coral reefs and a week's worth of adventure.

Normally, the sky serves as a backdrop for innumerable photo subjects and under a variety of conditions. But there are those times when the sky itself is the subject. On such occasions the sky needs no help, no setup, all by itself it steals the show...this sunrise as seen from Genesee Community College literally stopped me in my tracks. After I snapped the above photo, the following moments were like looking into a panoramic viewfinder as the horizon went through some rapid changes...

Shape-shifting clouds, intense yellows, red and orange. Whether it be described as moving, inspirational or spectacular...it was totally surreal.

The pics hardly do the scene justice -- what you see in the photos spanned the horizon from north to south, an unbroken view of the entire surrounding area.  There is certainly something to be said for rising early.

Once autumn foliage is gone, bony branches and various moon phases offer a variety of photo ops. This pic has a Halloween look to it.

Playing a waiting game with the moon, wind and clouds...

It was a crisp, cold winter night when I pointed to the crescent moon and my dad promptly told me it was one of his fingernails he had thrown into the sky. Yeah, I believed him...I was of pre-school age at the time.

This is one of Claudia's favorite evening photos taken from our back yard. 

Another of Claudia's photos...it reminds me of  a '50s and '60s TV ad...hint: "plop, plop, fizz, fizz."

Late in the day cloud bank, August 2011

Lunar nocturne

This winter has seen a drop in the normal activity around our bird feeder. Juncos, chickadees, nuthatches and the like have been infrequent visitors. That's not surprising -- the mild winter has afforded them ample feeding opportunities afield. Despite the food abundance in the wild, the cardinals have shown up with regularity.

The sharp-shinned hawk, pictured above, must be enjoying the winter weather, as small birds make up a good part of its diet. I've seen that intense stare at close range once before. My first encounter with a "sharpie" took place while I sat in a tree stand. That autumn afternoon it flew in for a brief stop, perching a few feet away -- I assumed it was attracted to the turkey quill fletching on my arrows.  

The cardinal's coloration causes it stand out even on a dismal day or in a forest interior. Though pleasing to the eye, with bird-eating raptors in the vicinity it's akin to placing a target on its back. 

The sharp shinned hawk's long legs, short rounded wings and very long tail all come in handy for coursing through the woodlands at high speed in pursuit of its prey.

This cardinal has so far managed to stay off the sharpie's menu. Around our home, at the first sign of trouble small birds fly into a spiraea hedge or thick  grapevines in an adjacent woodlot.

While they are built for winged pursuit, the sharp-shinned hawk will also pounce on its quarry from a low perch, notably small mammals such as mice and voles. That may have been what he was up to before I arrived. In the above photo, he's unfolding his wings and a second later he was airborne, flying deeper into the woods.