Albino Canada Goose.

A pair of Canada Geese; one albino and one not.

It is not every day that you see something like this.  Out on a hike in the spring, a favourite time to be photographing wildlife, I came across an unusual sight.  A pair of Canada geese, but something was very different.  One was mostly all white.  My first reaction was to think it was some species of bird I was unfamiliar with.  Perhaps it was a domestic goose, the same way you find white ducks sometimes on a farm.  As I pondered on what it was, the only real solution was to take a few photos of it and check it out later.

This is something I do frequently when coming across some creature I do not know.  A photo gives me clear information on an organism's size, colours, and important field marks.  I usually take several images which help me to see more aspects of important features.  Once I have gotten home I go through the images and select ones that help with the process of identification.  First, I go through my field guides.  I have a lot of them, mostly of birds, but also of insects, reptiles, amphibians, mammals and even rocks.  If that doesn't do the trick I go online.

This was a special case though, and as I eliminated the plausible the unlikely started to become more probable.  Could this be an albino?  You see albino mice and rats in pet stores; their red eyes glowing back at you.  There are albino snakes and even albino humans.  This creature did not have red eyes, but albinos in nature tend not to.  I typed in "albino Canada goose" in Google and hit the images button.  There before me was a number of pictures of this unusual creature.

Melanin is the pigment in the skin which gives it colour.  Albinism is a condition where the gene responsible for making the protein is defective.  It is a recessive disorder, meaning that an individual has to have both genes, one from mom and one from dad, coding for that trait.  An organism can have one gene for albinism and one unaffected gene; they would appear normal but be a carrier.  If two such creatures mated and produced offspring, there is a 1 in 4 chance that each of them would be an albino.

In all of the thousands of Canada geese I have seen, only one of them was an albino.  A wonderful example of diversity in nature.  I wonder how many other fascinating traits there are which tend to go unnoticed?

Common Loon at Camp Nakamun, Alberta.

A mating pair of Common Loons.

I have had the pleasure of going to Camp Nakamun four times now.  Both my kids, Josh and Leanne, have worked there.  My son found his love there and was married there.  Besides all that, it just happens to be a great place to visit.

Wherever I am, I always have my camera in hand and look for an opportunity to get some photos.  One of my visits there was in early summer.  There is an abundance of water birds present at this time.  This includes an assortment of ducks, grebes, sandpipers, and at least one breeding pair of common loons.  Many of the birds seem somewhat acclimatized to people as they let me approach closer than what would otherwise be possible. 

I have photographed loons in a number of places, but have never had the opportunity to get as close as I did here.  What was great was that, as I approached, they seemed to be without concern as they paddled along in front of my kayak.  Once at a decent distance, I just waited.  They eventually swam right in front of me. 

The photo you see above is not cropped to facilitate an enlargement.  It was pretty much that way in my viewfinder.  Keep in mind though I used an APS-C sensor sized DSLR with a 150-600 mm lens on zoomed all the way out.  So the relative focal length was 900 mm, which is approximately equivalent to a magnification of 18x.  I made a 16x20 inch print of it and donated it to the camp.

 I love to sit quietly and watch when nature shows up.  Sometimes you have to go out of your way to find it, other times it just happens in front of you.  Loons are remarkable birds.  They are one of the few species of flying birds that have solid bones instead of hollow ones.  This makes them denser than their relatives and gives them the ability to dive to remarkable depths.  Loons also have their feet set farther back than most other waterfowl, a fact which further facilitates their swimming prowess.  It also explains why you usually don't see them on land; for them, walking is for the [other] birds.

Tracking the illusive ruffed grouse.

Ruffed grouse

I had the pleasure of snowshoeing yesterday by Lake Nakamun, Alberta.  The snow was about eighteen inches deep beside the trail I was on, which fortunately was moderately compressed and easy to walk on.  It was quiet, sunny, and just above freezing.  A beautiful day in a beautiful place. 

Trekking through a woodlot of poplar and aspen trees, I witnessed signs of wildlife everywhere.  Tracks attesting to the presence of rabbit, deer, and coyotes were present, and the songs of various bird species filled the air.  I was about halfway through the journey when movement caught my eye off to my right visual field.  There, on the snow, was a covey of three partridge-like birds.  I managed to get off a photograph of one of them, but the thicket surrounding them rendered the image unusable.  I had to go off-trail if I was to do any better.

Determined to obtain at least one decent image, I headed off in their direction.  The snowshoes disappeared in the soft, white stuff; each step requiring the expenditure of significant energy.  The underbrush was dense enough that each footfall required planning.  Each step brought me closer to my quarry, which suddenly realized that they were being pursued.  The group broke up and I lost visual contact with two of them.

The third one though was still moving, heading up the hill.  It did not have the same problems I was, as its light weight was supported by the snow's surface.  Around some trees, through a thicket, I found the impressions of its footsteps.  I followed them in anticipation of finally getting the image I was hoping for.  Then, the trail disappeared; it just ended in an open patch of snow.

The only explanation was that it had taken to wing.  I did not hear any evidence of that and was surprised by its sudden departure.  Into the open I plodded, disappointed because any chance of achieving my goal had fled with it.  I searched in vain - it could be in a thousand places.  It seemed to me that these birds were not strong fliers; it couldn't have gone far.  So, I stuck to it.  The bird had to be close.

Backtracking, I went to where the bird's trail had ended and looked up.  Not eight feet off the ground the beast was there, watching me as I gazed back at it.  It was clearly a species of grouse, although which one wasn't certain.  I brought my camera up to bear and took a few shots.  Branches occluded much of the body; a change in position was required.  After moving I had a clear shot with minimal obstructions. 

Once my goal was achieved, I set off and reacquired the path I previously left.  The day was as pleasant as ever.  To add to my accomplishment, I later found a white-breasted nuthatch; I posted on that one yesterday.  What a super excursion it turned out to be.

White-breasted nuthatch.

The white-breasted nuthatch

I was out snowshoeing today in Central Alberta, enjoying the sunny skies and warming temperatures, hoping to find something wonderful to photograph.  As I plodded along, an unfamiliar chirping sound became more and more apparent.  I surveyed the area and to my delight, a small bird was busily foraging away.  I recognized it as a white-breasted nuthatch, although I have only ever seen this species once before.  I had to research after getting home to establish that it was a male.

I live in Coastal British Columbia where we only have the red-breasted variety.  They prefer coniferous forests, unlike the white-breasted ones which are found predominately in deciduous forests.  They are mostly permanent residents, but some migrate with the seasons.  Both species have the habit of combing over tree trunks and branches in search of food.  There is always something present in nature's buffet.  Even deep snow and cold weather will not prevent them from finding something to eat.  They will take insects, insect eggs and pupae, seeds, and of course nuts.

They get their name from the manner in which they separate the nut from its shell.  Jamming it into a cleft of a tree they will hammer on it relentlessly until it "hatches."  The released nut is then broken apart with great relish as it is eventually consumed.

I took 32 images of the bird flitting from branch to trunk and back again.  It only stayed in one place for a fraction of a second and then was off again.  I watched for a few minutes and followed it through the canopy until it had moved on.  What a nice break that was from my snowy trek.

What bird is that?

Common tern, photographed at Lake Bellevue, Alberta.

Have you ever looked at a bird and wondered what kind it was?  Not knowing off hand what species it was, you might try to look it up in a bird book.  With almost a thousand possibilities, you will likely feel overwhelmed with choices.  It would certainly help to have some rudimentary avian taxonomic skills, such as knowing the difference between a hawk and a hummingbird.  Even with that, there may be over a hundred species for some bird body types.

A great website to visit is whatbird, a free, user friendly resource which allows you to input observations to cull the implausible and isolate the probable.  Typically selecting two or three options will reduce the number of choices to only a few.  In the image above, the inset shows the resulting query using three identifiers.  Of the options given, the Arctic tern (1), the Caspian tern (5), the Common tern (6) and Forester's tern (7) are the likely candidates just from a visual inspection.

The next step then is to eliminate ones that don't quite match the actual bird.  It helps to have as much information as possible, which is why I like to have a picture.  This is where you start using the limited choices to make a determination.  Clicking on each of the viable possibilities brings up a new tab with specific information on that bird.  You can remove birds one at a time by observing specific details.

Notice the black tip at the end of the bird's red bill.  This removes the Arctic tern as a possibility because its bill is a single colour.  The red feet tells us it is not a Caspian tern, which has black feet.  This leaves both Forester's tern and the Common tern as likely candidates.  The black hood on Forester's tern is a little longer at the rear and it touches the beak at a slightly different angle.  The difference is subtle.  The distribution map shows that the Common tern inhabits a wider area than the Caspian tern does, although they both are present where the image was taken.

Based on the information available, I would say it is a Common tern.  I shot this image a couple of years ago and do not remember the behaviours associated with it at the time.  This would be useful in verifying the conclusion.

There is also an app for your phone or iOS device.  The app I-bird ultimate is $19.99 and the pro version is $14.99 at the time of this writing.  For android only the pro version is available at a price of $18.99.  All prices are in US dollars.  You can also get a free version with fewer features.

I rely on a number of sources when trying to identify a bird.  I have a number of bird books, I also use whatbird and will ask other knowledgeable types what their opinion is.  I often will read up on other facts about the critter as it quenches my curiosity even further.

If you are interested in learning how to photograph birds, consider getting a copy of my book, "Photography for Birders and other wildlife enthusiasts."

www.ericspix.com

When genetics go awry.

Teenage mutant ninja duck.

His name is Raphael, and he is a teenage mutant ninja duck.  The feathered vigilante patrols the local park, keeping his fellow creatures safe from the vagaries of crim-animals.  The red mask gives anonymity, the battle scared wing divulges the fearless tenacity which its owner bears.  No predator would dare disturb the pond and its inhabitants while he is present.

Normally Raphael basks in the sunshine, watching his furred and feathered friends frolicking about the garden.  Everything is peaceful; the humans arrive with goodies paying homage to the inhabitants.  The flock gathers.  Anticipation is palpable.  The daily ritual of  the "feeding of the birds" begins.

The squirrels descend from their lofty heights.  Although they are not the intended recipients of this benevolence,  they benefit from the generosity of these strange upright visitors.  An occasional tidbit is thrown their way, and they are only too happy to pounce on the tasty morsel.  There is enough for everyone.  The tempo of mayhem starts to pick up as more of the park's inhabitants arrive for the buffet.  Soon it will all be gone, and there is a growing sense of panic.

The humans would be overcome with riotous desperation had Raphael not been present.  The pond creatures know their place, and any thought of uprising is quickly smothered.  It only takes a stern look from the red masked duck to stay their paw, wing, and fin.  Order is reestablished.  The feeders do not realize how close they came to succumbing to the moment.  Adrenaline curbed, the gathering disperses as the food disappears.

The humans stare at the odd creature, suspecting genetics had played a cruel trick upon it.  The term "scraggly" seems generous.  Its feet appear as if built from a random assortment of coloured beads.  The damaged wing only adds to the ludicrous visage.  Yet underneath lies coiled muscles of steel and the knowledge of how to wield them.  Raphael, the teenage mutant ninja duck, has saved the unwitting visitors from certain death.  His thoughts as they depart, "Dudes, next time bring a pizza."