I wonder if you'll believe how many nature observations awaited me in my backyard during an hour I spent relaxing under Rosie the rosewood tree. Yeah, the one I told you gives me a feeling of being in a beautiful green fort. Its brand new leaves are pristine - so perfectly formed and fresh, free from insect's munchings for now. Totally different than the chewed up, torn, worn, tattered leaves that are all too glad to take the fall in November.
It was a breezy late afternoon, sunny and comfortable for sitting out in the shade. As always, some road noise - aka sound pollution - was heard. Somehow, I've learned to tune it out. But given that I'm trying to practice good observation skills I had all my senses tuned in. So, the road noise reminded me of a project being done by a scientist that involves traveling the globe to record natural sounds in the last places in which one can avoid man-made sound pollution. There was a location around Denali Park in Alaska that was one such place. Airplanes are a major offender in these very wild places. Maybe you can also tune in to noise pollution. Is it different late at night? Is there a time when human sounds are silenced here in Venice, Florida, 2014?
Back to my observations...
One of the first things I spotted was an anhinga surfacing and then diving back under in the lake just yards away. The anhinga's long slender neck is snakelike and it's always strange watching it slither and dive, surface, slither and submerge again and again. This is their hunting behavior, diving to seek fish. I actually watched this one come up from the grasses with a tiny fish that it was positioning to slip down into its long beaked throat. Wow!
It was a breezy late afternoon, sunny and comfortable for sitting out in the shade. As always, some road noise - aka sound pollution - was heard. Somehow, I've learned to tune it out. But given that I'm trying to practice good observation skills I had all my senses tuned in. So, the road noise reminded me of a project being done by a scientist that involves traveling the globe to record natural sounds in the last places in which one can avoid man-made sound pollution. There was a location around Denali Park in Alaska that was one such place. Airplanes are a major offender in these very wild places. Maybe you can also tune in to noise pollution. Is it different late at night? Is there a time when human sounds are silenced here in Venice, Florida, 2014?
Back to my observations...
One of the first things I spotted was an anhinga surfacing and then diving back under in the lake just yards away. The anhinga's long slender neck is snakelike and it's always strange watching it slither and dive, surface, slither and submerge again and again. This is their hunting behavior, diving to seek fish. I actually watched this one come up from the grasses with a tiny fish that it was positioning to slip down into its long beaked throat. Wow!
As I approached, it grew wary and headed for the point where it had the bank to hide it. Just a few minutes later I spotted it at a favorite anhinga hang-out:
Anhingas are ancient birds, related to loons. Have you ever heard a loon call? It's a haunting, wild sound.
I felt grateful that the plants paralleling the shoreline had shown up there a couple years ago. These attract fish that attract the birds. This is a great example of the introduction of a species, like these plants, can influence animal behavior in an environment. In this case, it's a small change. Can you imagine a larger example from changes in our local environment. Think Center Road, for example; any changes?
I barely got back from taking a photo of the anhinga when I heard a bird in a smaller tree in my yard and looking up I saw a lively bluejay calling and jumping about. Cool, right? Yes but not quite as cool as the red shouldered hawk that I realized was RIGHT in FRONT of me on a closer branch. The picture doesn't show just how close it was to me. Seeing him or her so close (shame I don't know enough to tell the difference right now) was a treat. Beautiful, smooth feathers, and a keen stare!
I barely got back from taking a photo of the anhinga when I heard a bird in a smaller tree in my yard and looking up I saw a lively bluejay calling and jumping about. Cool, right? Yes but not quite as cool as the red shouldered hawk that I realized was RIGHT in FRONT of me on a closer branch. The picture doesn't show just how close it was to me. Seeing him or her so close (shame I don't know enough to tell the difference right now) was a treat. Beautiful, smooth feathers, and a keen stare!
Yeah, I really had a nature blog writer's heyday! How was yours? Tell me about it! I'd love to have you top mine!