I tend to like gnarly old sagebrush perches and I’ve had my eye on this one for a while. It’s close to the road, in good light in the morning and Western Meadowlarks use it often. But unlike when they’re perched on an ugly sign, they always seem to fly off as I approach when they’re on this one.
That changed yesterday morning.
I wanted to post two more recent Western Meadowlark images that weren’t take-off shots, like my last post of this species. 1/2500, f/6.3, ISO 500, 500 f/4, 1.4 tc, natural light This image, taken four days ago, shows the bright yellows on the belly, breast and throat but part of the bird is obscured. Obviously it was singing up a storm. Just looking at the image brings the song into my head. 1/5000, f/5.6, ISO 640, 500 f/4, 1.4 tc, natural light And this one, from two days ago, shows the backside. I was very close to this bird. So close that I had to shoot vertically, which complicates things with my long, awkward lens. By the time I had it framed and got off a few shots I realized that my settings were wrong for the situation (didn’t need the high ISO or shutter speed and more depth of field would have kept more of the sagebrush sharp) but by then it was too late and the bird took off. Sometimes birds cooperate and then they don’t… Ron PS – As I was working on this post which was meant to be published tomorrow morning I hit “publish” instead of “update” before it was ready. So there’s some “hiccups” in it, especially for those who get the post emails. Sorry. I’ve always worried about doing that…
Yesterday morning there was meadowlark magic on the island. They were almost everywhere, singing lustily from atop their sagebrush and rabbitbrush perches (and more than a few ugly signposts). Several times I just stopped the truck, turned the engine off and got outside to listen. You could hear dozens of them simultaneously – some very close, some far away and others everywhere in between. Their melodious calls literally bounced off the hilltops.
We had a wonderful time out on the west desert again this morning. The light was great, the birds were singing and everything was clear, crisp and clean. This post is meant to give you a feel for what it was like.
Ok, despite the fact that it’s turning colder again this week I’m now convinced that spring has arrived because two days ago I finally got close enough to photograph a singing Western Meadowlark – my first of the year. 1/2500, f/6.3, ISO 640, 500 f/4, 1.4 tc, natural light I was sure the bird would fly off as I approached, just as all the others have this spring, but this one stuck. I like the somewhat different head angle in this shot. 1/2000, f/6.3, ISO 500, 500 f/4, 1.4 tc, natural light I probably have more trouble with framing this species than any other because their legs are always longer than I think they are when they’re buried in the perch like this and I typically don’t leave enough room for at least one of them. This time I think I did. 1/3200, f/6.3, ISO 640, 500 f/4, 1.4 tc, natural light When the bird would break out in song it truly lifted my spirits, as it always does. They’re just so enthusiastic about it and when you’re close the sound can go right through you – in a good way. I’m always impressed by the size of their mouth which seems to be exaggerated some by that long beak. I suspect there are a few of my regular readers who are unfamiliar with the call of this songster (Elephant’s Child in Australia, for example) so I’ve provided a link to their song if you’d like to hear it (scroll down about half-way). These birds (and their…
I’m used to seeing Western Meadowlarks all winter long. True, their numbers go down as some of them migrate south but there always seems to be a resident population of them here in northern Utah and I typically photograph them year-round. Not so this winter. 1/3200, f/7.1, ISO 500 500 f/4, 1.4 tc, natural light (techs were set for take-off) This is the last meadowlark I photographed, taken on 28 December, 2012 and it’s been weeks since I’ve even seen one. Though they’re a permanent resident in my area we’re right on the border between their “permanent resident” and “breeding resident” ranges – see map if you’re interested. I suspect they’ve all vamoosed for warmer climes because of our recent extremes of cold and snow. If that’s the case, this is one more species I’ll add to my list of birds whose return I’ll anticipate as harbingers of spring. Ron
Yesterday was a glorious day on the island with about 6″ of fresh snow and wonderful light. It was simply delightful. The Western Meadowlarks seemed to be a little “stickier” than usual, perhaps because of all the snow. 1/3200, f/6.3, ISO 500, 500 f/4, 1.4 tc, natural light This one was half buried in the snow but I liked all the convolutions in the snowy setting. 1/3200, f/8, ISO 500, 500 f/4, 1.4 tc, natural light This meadowlark was the most cooperative bird of the morning as it posed for me for over 6 minutes on top of some rabbitbrush. 1/2500, f/8, ISO 500, 500 f/4, 1.4 tc, natural light It never did turn around to show that bright yellow breast but it did give me some nice head turns to make up for it. 1/2000, f/7.1, ISO 500, 500 f/4, 1.4 tc, natural light Meadowlarks are well-known for a behavior called “tail flashing”, something they often do during territorial disputes. During tail flashing the tail is nervously (and very quickly) snapped open and closed, better revealing the white outer tail feathers. The bird was cooperating so well that I made it my goal to try to catch the tail spread to show those white feathers, which turned out to be much easier said than done. It happens so quickly that you just have to fire a burst and hope for the best. I took 208 shots of this bird (at least half of them were attempts to get the open tail) and only got…
Horned Larks aren’t one of the “glamour species” for many, probably partly due to the fact that they’re so widespread and common. They’re found throughout most of North America and much of Eurasia. One of my scientific heroes, Carl (Carolus) Linnaeus, assigned the Latin name Eremophila alpestris (meaning “lark of the mountains”) to this bird, despite the fact that they commonly inhabit prairies, farmlands and deserts. These were the most common birds, by far, on the Montana farm where I grew up and they always bring back fond memories for me. Many folks think of them as just another “mostly brown little bird” but when you get close their colors and patterns really stand out. I really enjoy their soft, subtle call and have spent many hours watching them up close through my lens. These photos were taken on Antelope Island in the last few weeks. 1/1600, f/6.3, ISO 500, 500 f/4, 1.4 tc, natural light, not set up or called in The sexes are similar, though the colors of the males are more vivid and the namesake “horns” of the female are less evident than those of the male. This is the female. 1/1600, f/6.3, ISO 500, 500 f/4, 1.4 tc, natural light, not set up or called in She posed for me for quite a while before flying off. 1/2000, f/7.1, ISO 500, 500 f/4, 1.4 tc, natural light, not set up or called in This is the male, in a setting that shows more habitat. Often the black horns are laid back flat on…
On my last post which featured closeups of mating Lark Sparrows, long-time follower of my blog Tana Hunter asked “How about getting this close to some meadowlarks?” Her request reminded me that I’ve posted very few images of Western Meadowlarks in the 19 months I’ve been blogging so I did a little digging and these images are what I came up with. It’s another relatively long post but with this weather and its attendant crappy light I can’t be out shooting birds so I might as well be playing around with their images to take some of the sting out of my cabin fever… Here are a few interesting factual tidbits about Western Meadowlarks to hopefully get you in the mood: Although early explorers (including Lewis and Clark) were aware of the existence of the Western Meadowlark, it was subsequently ignored by most naturalists of the day so when John James Audubon gave the bird its Latin name, he chose Sturnella neglecta (the species name in recognition of that lack of attention) The Western Meadowlark is not a lark (though it is a gifted songster); instead it is most closely related to the blackbirds When probing into soil for food, these birds force their long bills into the ground and then the mandibles are spread apart, opening and loosening the soil to make food more obtainable They are particularly fond of sprouting grain in farmers fields. They bore into the soil with the long bill, grasp the soft germinating seed and then crush it to obtain the milk and usually discard…
Just a single image this time. While photographing magpies at their nest this morning this cheeky Western Meadowlark had the gall to land right next door to the nest for a few seconds before it took off again. 1/2500, f/7.1, ISO 500, f00 f/4 I’d taken the teleconverter off for the larger magpies so it’s a bit of a heftier crop than I’d prefer and I wish I had a little more room up top for composition. And there’s some “stuff” in front of the bird but despite all that I liked the shot anyway. These meadowlarks are beginning to sing up a storm out on the island. Ron
I’ve always had a soft spot for Horned Larks because they remind me so much of growing up on the family farm in nw Montana. But in virtually all of my images of them they’re perched on rocks or on the ground. 1/2000, f/7.1, ISO 640, 500 f/4, 1.4 tc Earlier this week I found this male perched on – yes, another rock. But while I was photographing him he flew to this nearby sunflower head and started picking seeds out of it. I like the setting and that you can see the seed in the beak with the seed husk blowing away in the breeze under the wing-tip. Ron
I have particularly fond memories of Horned Larks from growing up on our northwestern Montana family farm near Cut Bank, Montana. The fallow barley fields and adjacent short grass prairies abounded with them. But since I began photographing birds I’ve had very few opportunities with them here in Utah – until last week when had a grand time with multiple cooperative larks in the foothills of the Stansbury Mountains. And yes, the wind was blowing briskly – a perfect situation to remind me of those Montana larks! Singing in the wind The wind seemed to inspire the males to sing as they all seemed to be singing up a storm on this day, despite the early February date. Blown off the perch While it may look like this male is taking flight, in reality it was being blown off the perch by a sudden gust of wind. If it had been taking off, both wings would be extended. Wind- disheveled feathers In this photo, the wind updraft from the rock perch blew a perfect semicircle of his upper chest feathers into his black neck ring, making him look pretty silly. Very obvious “horns” This photo shows the “horns” (occipital feather tufts) that are characteristic of the species. The horns are found on both sexes but they are much less obvious in the female and rarely erected. This frontal view of the head shows the horns most distinctly when they are raised. Horns laying almost flat At times the horns are laid flat against the…
My previous post was an overview of the geology of Antelope Island and its non-bird wildlife. Here, I’ll focus on its birds. Juvenile Loggerhead Shrike begging for food Loggerhead Shrikes are common on many parts of the island during summer. They can be a challenge to approach but those few that nest close to the road eventually get used to traffic so if you photograph from your vehicle you can often get quite close. Here this juvenile was begging for food that was being delivered by a parent just out of frame to the left. Loggerhead Shrike with dragonfly Shrikes are often called “butcher birds” for their practice of temporarily impaling their prey on thorns or other sharp projections. This juvenile had done just that with the dragonfly but it wasn’t very good at it yet and in the end just decided to eat it instead of store it away. Loggerhead Shrike with spider Shrikes are opportunistic carnivores known to feed on insects, spiders, amphibians, small reptiles, rodents and other birds. This one also attempted to impale the prey before eating it. Juvenile Burrowing Owl practicing its parallax technique on me Burrowing Owls are one of my favorite species on the island though they can be difficult to locate from year to year as they often don’t seem to nest in the same burrow the next year. In the summer of 2009 there was an entire family of owls along the causeway to the island nesting under concrete rubble, as in the…
