The Benefit of Hindsight

The thing about winter birding, Kelly noted as we drove home from a day of winter birding yesterday, is that you can always go down to the water and see ducks. Beautiful, colourful, different ducks.

For example, Northern pintails.

I know, I am very handsome.

From this angle, you can see my lovely pintail at its pinniest.

Buffleheads.

Please admire us before we take turns diving.

You may admire my jewel-like tones while my spouse is grocery-shopping.

Red-breasted mergansers. This is a very odd shot; I did nothing to alter the colours -- every shot I took in this area of the lake was this strange electric blue and there was nothing I could do to correct it. Given that, and the distance of these birds, it's a crappy picture. But hey, it's a pair of red-breasted mergansers, and they both have a pretty good 'do going on.

American black duck, quietly dabbling and feeding in a small cove.
















The uncommonly beautiful common goldeneye, swiftboating in and out among the large groups of lesser scaups, almost beyond camera range.















Some of these pictures are barely worth using; we also had longtailed ducks and a sweet pair of gadwalls, but only very poor photos of them.  Sometimes, I guess, you just have to enjoy with your eyes, and in the moment. But sometimes ... well, sometimes new things are revealed when you get home and download your couple hundred pictures.

Mallards, for example, are a very common duck. So common that Bird Studies Canada put them on their ID sheet for the Backyard Bird Count. Now, I don't think you're likely to find too many in your average backyard, but you will see them if you've got a natural stream or pond in your local park. And if you look really carefully (or shoot your camera willy-nilly), you might see them getting jiggy with it.

Now you see her...

...now you don't.

This took mere seconds.

Sometimes you find  a whole new species. Or morph. Or something.

You've heard of the meet-cute? Meet the mute-coot.

And sometimes you realize that you had a life bird without ever seeing it.

We had been happily watching a group of buffleheads, and noticed two fluffy brown birds swimming around with them. You can see one of them in the upper left of this picture.

Transfixed by the male's bright plumage, we paid them no mind. In fact (and I am almost ashamed to admit this) we thought they were young'uns. Though why anyone would be having young'uns right now is beyond me.
 














Upon closer examination of the photo, we find nothing remotely buffleheadish about this bird.

In fact, we have seen the buffleheads, and they is us! This bird is a grebe, a pied-bill grebe. A little early for the season, and a life bird for us. Who cares if it's a crappy photo?