A wonderful day of woodland birding doesn’t always promise
great photographs. The wooded ones rarely
sit still for the camera. Photographing
these beauties is kind of like photographing a toddler that’s just started
crawling, and at Superman-fast speed. There’s just no stopping them!
But photos or not, a wooded walk is just about perfect
when the leaves are mostly down, and the Gulf-Coast mosquitoes are chased away
by the December cold.Yesterday’s three hour walk made for a relaxing afternoon. The recent dry conditions created a thick carpet of leaves that were unusually dry, crunching loudly underneath each booted step. This loud crunch delighted the kid in me. But the birder in me was finding it just about impossible to sneak up on the shyest of the feathered ones:
I photographed vireos and warblers; sapsuckers and
woodpeckers. I listened to Carolina and House
Wrens fuss at me, sticking out their heads from cover and scolding my leaf crunching
(as if I were eating cereal with my mouth partly open). Large groups of Robins moved about me, staggering
about as if my crunching awakened them from an afternoon nap. The wooded walk was delightful; the
photographs, not so much.
But every birder loves to catch a photo of a Brown
Creeper, good quality picture or not. This
perfectly named bird can be hard to spot; and harder to photograph. They are
expert tree-huggers, silently creeping up and around mature tree trunks. Their wood-bark
camouflaged feathering makes them difficult to spot. Their non-stop upward motion makes them
more difficult to photograph.
I love to watch Brown Creepers because their
tree-hugging movement reminds me of watching my grandmother’s knitting: upward stitch, upward stitch, upward stitch,
and on up the tree they go; and then a quick flight down to the base of a nearby
tree (as quickly as an expert knitter will pick up the next row of stitches);
and upward stitch, upward stitch, upward stitch, and on up this tree they go.
A side-view of the Brown Creeper, exposing her bright-white belly as contrasted to her tree-bark backside:
And another:
And then my camera caught this pose that made me burst
out laughing; a creeper appearing to hang on for dear life:
I wasn’t the only one watching this quietly busy
tree-hugger. I turned toward the hoarse
barking sound of a Red-bellied Woodpecker. I think these loud ones sound just like
a dog that has barked so long that their bark has gone hoarse.
This Red-bellied seemed to want to give the creeper a
few tips for elegant tree walking:
Your walks in the woods are far more poetic than mine. I would never think to equate a brown creeper to a grandmother knitting. But then, my grandmother never did knit. :)
ReplyDeleteIt's a joy to hear and see your adventures!
ReplyDeleteShe should write a book shouldn't she??? I keep telling her that... Susan.
ReplyDelete