Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge Day 2

Day 2 at the refuge was a bit more eventful.  It was rainy all day and a bit warmer, and I knew what that meant.  Melted ice!  Stop scratching your heads.  Melted ice means more open water closer to shore, which means more birds within camera range. There weren't a lot, but there were enough to keep me interested.

Have a look.

Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge Day 1

This past weekend I had to head to the Noyes Museum of Art in Galloway to pick up some photographs I had hanging in their "Aftermath" exhibit.  It's really a wonderful place, and I highly recommend it.  One of my favorite things about the museum is that it is about a quarter of a mile from the Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge.  

The Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge is one of my favorite places in New Jersey.  I sometimes wish I lived close to it..  However, when I think about it, I realize that's not such a great idea, because I might never leave.  The problem I have when I go there is that I am so smitten with the wildlife I usually forget to enjoy the beautiful landscape. 

I was determined to not do that on this visit.  It's helpful that in the winter there isn't as high a concentration of birds.  Also, because most of the water close to Wildlife Drive was frozen on this visit, a lot of the birds, like that tease of a snowy owl, were beyond the useful range of my 300mm even with a teleconverter.

That said, patience and determination do eventually pay off, but you'll have to wait for day two and three for that.

Here is some of what I saw on Sunday.

Sunlight glistens off the bay between the refuge and Atlantic City.

The colors and textures of the grasses are magnificent.

Mallards

Egrets Behaving Badly

I spent a couple of days at the Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge, and this happened.

Don't Forget Your Hazmat Suit

This is a horrible little place called Van Campens Glen on the Jersey side of the Delaware.  If you visit, I strongly suggest that you wear a hazmat suit.  On second thought, maybe you shouldn't go at all.  Keep Out!  Stay Away!  DANGER!  DANGER! DANGER!

Horrifying.

Ode to Snakes

Perhaps you are wondering what a cute little fawn is doing in my "Ode to Snakes" post.  It is out of consideration and respect and love for my loyal audience members, who miiiight be a little squeamish about images of slithering creatures and/or images of slithering creatures eating other creatures.  This is your warning to TURN BACK NOW!!!  AVERT YOUR GAZE!!!  Go watch a nice youtube video about cute, little, fuzzy bunnies.

For the rest of you, I will ease you in gently, before I smack you right in the eyeballs.  Btw, these were all taken in various places in Stokes State Forest.  This first one is a friendly little chap that was curious about the odd, floating creature in the strange brown getup.  That would be me, floating around the swamp in my float tube and chest waders.  

This is a northern waters snake.  Isn't he adorable?

These next three are just random garter snakes I came upon while hiking along critter trails.

Oops!  Did I forget to warn you?  Sorry 'bout that.

It is truly fascinating to photograph these creatures, doing what they do.  However, there are just so many pictures you can take of a tangle of snakes or of a snake swallowing a live animal--a painfully long process that seems to take years.  And I have to admit that when I put the camera down to just observe, I am sometimes overcome by an overwhelming sense of ickiness that is cured only by putting the camera back up to my face and taking more photos.

This next one comes from a series of photos that fill me with dread, when I go back to look at them.  At the time, however, it was one of the most incredible things I had seen out at "my swamp".  It was the end of the day, and I was heading back into shore on my float tube.  As I approached an old beaver lodge, which has also served as housing for muskrats and otters, it seemed to me that the lodge was "moving".  As I got closer, the reason for that became obvious.  The whole lodge was crawling with water snakes.   

This is actually three snakes.  At times there were up to six all tangled up. 

Don't need much explanation for these--snake eats frog.

This poor little frog fought to the bitter end.  He was still struggling as his feet disappeared into the snake's mouth.

Time for lunch.  See ya later.

My Happy Place

A green heron stalks its prey.  I love these little guys.

There are few things that beat a day in the swamp.  The only thing that could have made this day better is if I hadn't listened to the "weatherman", who predicted cloudy, cloudy, cloudy skies.  There was no mention of sun whatsoever.  Therefore, I didn't bring a hat or sunblock.  Why lug around extra gear, if you don't have to.  I know.  I know.  At my advanced age, I should know better.  I'm just too darned trusting.

You can stop laughing, Jen.

I'm feeling a little ill, but looking at the pics of my wonderful swamp critters makes me feel better. 

Btw, these were taken in a swamp in High Point State Park in New Jersey.

A green heron preens.

Green heron

A female grackle sits on her nest.  Must have gotten a late start, because the eggs don't seem to have hatched, yet.

A mama hooded merganser and her chicks.  I couldn't get very close to these guys.

The One That Got Away -- Volume I

People think that photography is so glamorous and easy that anyone can do it.  Well, it's not; it's hell.  And sometimes you miss the shot, as I have expertly depicted for you above. 

I like to hang out at swamps, and on this particular day I was floating in the muck and mire in my float tube under a blazing sun.  I happened to look over my shoulder just in time to see a mink launch itself from a log toward a wood duck that was swimming by.  The mink missed and began swimming after the duck as I furiously tried to turn myself in the right direction.  By the time I got myself turned around, the duck was well out of reach of the mink, which gave up the chase and disappeared back into the swamp. I didn't get a single shot off.

Bet you would have gotten the shot with your little iPhone.

A Voice in the Wilderness

I feel like I'm talking to myself, here.  Of course, it's my own darned fault, since I haven't posted anything since.......................ummmmm.......................October.  Blogging seemed like a good idea at the time, but I've been busy with my freelance work (okay excuse), and it was really freaking cold out last winter (absolutely pathetic excuse).  Usually, the cold weather doesn't stop me.  I really wussed out--but not completely.  Of course, the cold winter doesn't really explain April through June. 

I've got quite a bit to show you.  While I'm getting all that together, enjoy today's journey to Schooley's Mountain Park.  I'll have you know that I was up at 4:30 am, as in "the morning", so I could get to the waterfalls before the sun screwed up my pictures.  No one I know will believe that I was up that early on purpose, but it's true.

Here ya go:

 

It's Not As Easy As It Looks

Tammany Trail

I wanted to get an early start toward Mt. Tammany this morning.  It was supposed to be sunny early on before turning overcast and giving way to rain.  Unfortunately, unless I have told someone that I will be somewhere at some stupid hour of the morning, an early start ain't happening.

Getting up Mt. Tammany in time to get some shots of the Gap in its fall finery just isn't motivation enough, apparently.  But despite not getting to  the trailhead until almost 9, I still held out hope that I could make it in time.  I'd just pick up the pace.

Hahahaha.  Yeah, that's funny.

Several long stretches of trail looked like the photo above.  Still, it wouldn't be that big of a deal if MY KNEES DIDN'T SUCK.  But my knees do suck, so it took a bit longer than expected to get to the overlook at the top.  By then, it had started to rain.  The forecast called for partly sunny skies later in the day, but I didn't feel like sitting around all day, so I slowly continued the loop in the hope of finding something that would justify what I had just done and would continue to do to my knees.  (Going back down is much worse than going up.)

Well, look what I found:

I was quite pleased with my find and continued my torturous descent down the mountain, stopping along the way to photograph Dunfield Creek.  When I got to the parking area, the sun came out, and I thought, "Hmmm, maybe I should hike back up to the overlook."

My knees said, "No."