It’s not uncommon for visitors to our ponds, lakes and rivers to see what look like tall, statuesque bird sculptures on shorelines. The great blue herons (Ardea herodias) – North America’s largest heron species – can stand for long periods without moving or only slightly tilting their heads as they exercise extreme patience in their quest for a morning, midday or evening meal.
If they have a chance for easy pickings, these herons will certainly take advantage of it, as I discovered when the koi and goldfish in my pond were disappearing. But in their natural habitat they will scan the water intently to find their prey.
If you have the time and inclination to watch them for a lengthier period of time, you will note how they hunch down and stretch up as they position themselves to get good views of the water around them.
They stare downwards and to the side, following the movements of fish, frogs and crayfish. When the wind blows, their plumed neck and tail feathers sway gently and beautifully in the breeze.
If nothing seems nearby, they will move with quiet and slow deliberation to another spot, often quite nearby. Unlike the snowy egrets, they don’t stir up the mud with their feet or flap their wings to create movement in the water.
When a fish does swim by, they burst into very fast motion, plunging their long beaks and whole heads down to grab what they have spotted.
They are not always successful, sometimes coming up empty beaked!
But their patience obviously does pay off, too.
Once caught, they need to work the fish or other prey around so that they can swallow it down smoothly. As they swallow their meal whole, this is important. (And they can eat a very large meal; there is a film on the Internet showing a heron swallowing a groundhog!!)
If you look carefully, you can see the meal slide down their long necks.
This fishing strategy works well for the great blues as they can continue to hunt even when injured. This bird had a very badly damaged wing and apparently couldn’t fly anymore but it could stalk slowly in the lake as it looked for food.
The bird below had had some kind of encounter – either with a man-made obstacle or some form of wildlife that left it with an injured wing and broken leg. Bald eagles are one of the few predators of adult herons and this great blue lives at Jordan Lake which has a group of such eagles in residence. Despite the handicap, the heron could fly from spot to spot and then stand in wait for meals to swim by.
If disturbed, these birds emit a very loud and harsh squawk or croaking sound and then often take off. They certainly wouldn’t win any singing contests with their definitively non-melodious calls.
They prefer to fish in solitude and don’t care for other birds invading their territory. This great blue and great egret wanted the same spot and the great blue made some efforts to chase off its white competitor. However, the egret refused to leave and eventually they shared the spot with some meters of space between them.
Watching the herons fish has not only given me an appreciation for their innate patience but has also enhanced my own patience as well as I stand and wait with them until it’s finally mealtime.
While ospreys are one of my favorite large birds, the gorgeous ruby-crowned kinglet (Regulus calendula) has won my heart among my tinier feathered friends. Today I’m sharing some portraits of kinglets made the past couple months (in my yard and at Bolin Creek greenway in Chapel Hill, Jordan Lake woods, Sandy Creek Park in Durham).
hes or 10-11 cm long), this kinglet is in almost constant motion, which makes getting good portraits a bit of a challenge. Despite this high level of activity, however, research has shown that the ruby-crowned kinglet only uses up to 10 kcal a day in energy. (Sometimes I think this holds true for me as well as the weight I want to lose just stays in place.)
Their main diet consists of insects, including spiders, ants, wasps, beetles and aphids. They will also occasionally eat seeds, fruit and sap.
Most of the time, the male’s beautiful little red crest (which gives the species its name) remains hidden unless it gets excited about something.
In my pursuit of portraits, I’ve found that just as I think I have the bird in focus, it has disappeared from my viewfinder and I need to look up and around to locate it again..Given its diminutive size, one wouldn’t expect that the female lays up to 12 – twelve! – eggs in its nest, which is elastic and can expand as the brood grows. The male and female stay together until the chicks fledge at about 2 months and they will defend the nest against intruders.
Sometimes, I hear the chittering call before I see the tiny wonder and only very rarely get to enjoy its longer 
What is very cool for me is that my visitor can become very friendly indeed. Last year, on two occasions, I was carrying a replenished suet feeder outside when the kinglet flew in to perch on it as I held the feeder in my hands – giving me a great close-up view. I look forward to seeing if the kinglet will favor me with an up-close-and-personal meeting again this coming winter!
Sometimes the birds will face forward to dive down and then flip upwards at the last minute so they enter the water feet first. This bird did most of the dive with its feet down in the clutching position, ready to strike.
Several years ago, as I was beginning to photograph wildlife more seriously, I became quite excited at the North Carolina Botanical Garden. Buzzing around some profusely blooming flowers was what I thought might be the smallest hummingbird I had ever seen. I was not used to taking shots of something that was in almost constant motion, but I persisted until I got photos that made it at least a little recognizable. I lost the original photo when both my computer and my back-up hard drive crashed at almost the same time, but I “rescued” one of those first photos from a Word document.
I soon learned that what I had seen was actually an insect – a hummingbird clearwing moth (Hemaris thysbe) to be precise. This is likely one of the first insects that I ever got enthusiastic about.
Their caterpillars are called hornworms as they have a horn at the rear; I have not seen one yet but they must be around somewhere. They pupate in leaf litter and on the ground; since I leave the fallen leaves around, I’ve been providing them with a childhood and adolescent home! And that’s good as I really look forward now to welcoming them to my yard each year!
My beautiful world 