This northern cardinal family set up home in the yard for a while. Above is the proud father. Next is the attentive mother. Finally there’s junior, looking, as offspring often do, like he might belong to a different species.
It’s not a partridge in a pear tree, but I like the lines and patterns that palm fronds make and this little sparrow gives them a bit of scale.
The top photo shows a Japanese white-eye chick clinging to a window screen. This was the first view I had of this bird, but from inside. When I went out to look there was quite a kerfuffle going on. The white-eyes were squawking in the bushes and flitting around.
After a while, the chick hopped off the screen onto the grass where the two parents, I presume, flew down to join it (middle photo). The squawking continued. Eventually the chick took to the air again and wobbled over to a nearby hedge where it clunked into the branches and gained a perch. The other white-eyes continued to flit around, making quite a din.
The chick moved a couple more times, tentatively, but must have landed somewhere safe because the hubbub subsided and calm returned to the yard. It must have been old enough to fly, but not yet adept at it so that it could control where the flight might take it.
In the bottom photo, taken while it was resting in the grass, the chick looks quite similar to the adults, but the signature white eye ring is not yet present.
Hawaiian stilts are endemic, but also endangered because of loss of habitat and a rise in predators. They’re easy to identify with their strong black and white coloration, long black beak, and even longer pink legs. This one was wading in deeper water than I usually see them, probing for arthropods and insects.
Wild turkeys abound alongside the Old Saddle Road. This one was wandering through a green pasture bordered by an old fence.
Posted in response to Becky’s July Squares challenge theme of ‘Perspective.’ See more responses here.
This week’s Friendly Friday challenge theme is ‘Capturing a Feeling.’ See more responses here.
A fair number of my photos of perched pueos (Hawaiian short-eared owls) show the birds giving me a scowling look of disapproval. This one has a bit of that, but there’s also a look of astonishment. If I had to give this bird a speech bubble, it would be something along the lines of, ‘He took my picture. He didn’t even ask. The nerve.’
I like this photo for two additional reasons. One is that single, visible curved talon resting on the post. Easy to imagine the effect of that on some unfortunate rodent. The second reason is the eyes. Notice anything about them?
Also posted in response to Becky’s July Squares challenge theme of ‘Perspective.’ See more responses here.
Yesterday, I was processing photos I’d taken over the past few days. When I saw this one, I thought, ‘I could have used that on Sunday,’ when responding to the Sunday Stills challenge theme of ‘Sky’ (more responses here), and Becky’s July Squares challenge theme of ‘Perspective’ (more responses here).
Usually, when I’m in the water, my focus is on spotting fish. But I also look around with my head above water and, one morning, I saw this flock of Hawaiian noddys wheeling back and forth over the ocean. Just after I took this photo, they flew directly overhead before gliding away to the south.
This is the first day of Becky’s July Squares challenge theme of ‘Perspective.’ See more responses here.
I thought I’d start with this photo. To many people this probably looks like a somewhat windblown rooster, but from my perspective, this is something else entirely. This is Hoppy, the temporally-challenged rooster. This is Hoppy, the no-amplifier-required rooster. This is Hoppy, the demon rooster.
Hoppy has a bad foot, hence the name, and perhaps this has thrown him off. He’s started crowing as early as 1:30 in the morning, but regularly pipes up in the two o’clock hour, the three o’clock hour, the four o’clock hour, and the five o’clock hour. Since his roost is in the hedge next to the house, his first blasts tend to be close by, and he is loud. Perhaps it’s just because it’s so quiet otherwise, but his call carries and I don’t need to hear rooster rock at those hours.
I generally succeeded in training him not to hang out into the yard, but have failed to dislodge him from his roost. He keeps coming back. Or should I say, kept coming back. Whisper it quietly, but I haven’t seen or, more importantly, heard Hoppy for three days now. Whilst I’ve thought unkind thoughts about him, I haven’t actually done anything to him. But other people live within earshot, so perhaps they have. Or maybe Hoppy just wandered off in the same way that he wandered in. He never acquired any hens here, so I’ll think positively and and hope he’s found a true love and is happy. Unless he comes back, that is.