I got a good deal of satisfaction spotting, and photographing, this yellow-billed cardinal taking its morning bath. I guess that could be considered a bit creepy. Certainly, the bird’s expression in the bottom photo, just before it flew off, suggests it wasn’t best pleased by my presence.
Waimanu is one of the few Hawaiian monk seals that live permanently around the Big Island. She has given birth to three pups, each time in the vicinity of Keokea Park in North Kohala. All three pups died, one from swallowing a fish hook when a few months old, the other two while still with their mother on the beach.
We’ll see if she returns to the park again this year for another go.
Mālama ‘Āina means to care for the land, an important concept in Hawaiian life, an important concept for everyone. This sign was near Kiholo campground.
Most people are familiar with the image of palm trees towering over golden Hawaiian beaches. This is not one of those. It’s taken an unusual path, twisting down and around and up again, but none the worse for its circuitous route.
Ho’okena is a small community about 20 miles south of Kailua Kona. It’s a popular spot for its beach park, which features a beautiful sandy beach in a fairly sheltered bay. It was less popular toward the end of 2015 when it was one of the hotspots for the dengue fever outbreak of that winter.
Photographing birds is always a challenge for me, especially when they’re in flight. Hawaiian noddies are tricky because they tend to skim the water as they fly along the coast. When I do see them, they’re usually as close as they’re going to get and, by the time I have my camera organized, the best I can hope for is a blurry photo of some tail feathers.
What was unusual on this day was that, while I saw the noddy in about the same relative position as I had other times, it was higher up, dipping below the cliff and then climbing up again. As it was heading into the wind, it was making slow progress and I thought I had a chance. But each time I was about to get the bird in shot and in focus, it would slide away again. However, each time it reappeared, it got closer to where I was.
Where I was standing, the cliff dipped toward me, and when the bird swooped in to that recess (still evading my camera) I felt sure I would be able to capture it when it flew out again. I was ready, I was focused, but no bird. I was pretty sure it hadn’t sneaked by, out of sight. Then I realized that the chances were I’d stumbled on the bird’s roost. I couldn’t see the cliff face so I waited and a few minutes later two noddies flew out, circled around, and returned to the cliff.
Eventually, four birds came out, and while they looked a similar size, I suspect two of them were chicks that were about ready for independent life. It was still a challenge getting the birds in the frame, and I didn’t help myself by switching my focus from one bird to thinking I could get all four in shot, and back again.
In the end, I was happy to have a few decent photos and more happy to have had the time just watching them circling and swooping, dipping and diving, before swinging back to their roost.
I love watching geckos in their daily activities. This can vary from the comical – those goofy expressions, to the impressive – leaping into space and landing safely, to the disturbing – an adult swallowing a young gecko.
Then there are things, such as in the photo, that I don’t entirely understand. I watched as the two geckos approached each other thinking a display of aggression was on the cards. Instead, the smaller gecko slithered over the larger one. I don’t know whether this was part of a mating ritual or one of the ways the smaller gecko acknowledges the territorial rights of the bigger one.
Yellow tang are one of the staple reef fish in Hawaii. They often putter around in large shoals in the shallows, and since they’re entirely bright yellow, except for a white tail spine, they’re easily visible from shore. The white variation seen here is very unusual. I’m not sure why some are white, but I’ve read that it might have to do with stress or disease.
These photos were taken in the same location, a few months apart, but I think it’s the same fish as the markings appear identical.
Graham's Island 