Pulchritudo in Natura: ary.scot

more DIY

Looking at the anarchy above for a moment I notice another burdened male coming home with more building materials (it is usually the male's job). Some might say this seems to trancend species boundaries, but not me, no siree, no way. What sort of idiot do you take me for?

above it all

A couple of days later and I'm back at the same cliff, only 400ft higher, wishing I'd bought that string. It's high up here and rather windy (such an unusual thing for Shetland!) and to see what's happening below, a long long way below, I'm laying on the edge. Having a bit of string wrapped round my left ankle, with the other tied to a rock, or to one of the puffins all around me, would make me happier right now.

I spend a while laying there, gripping Mother Earth for all it's worth, watching this hectic suburb of Gannetville, I take a few shots but find it hard to see any real 'pretty' options, it's all too cluttered. Then I spot this chap coming home and track him for a few hundred meters until he gets in line with the cliff of the opposite side of the small inlet I'm overlooking and take a few quick shots. He lives pretty much on the 'top-floor' of this vertical city and we're both at the same 'altitude' so to speak. This, together with the bokeh that just softens the dark looming cliff-face, creates something of an abstract background for the bird, so it qualifies as a pretty picture, well to me. The larger image linked to the thumbnail left will itself to a larger image if you have the screen size for it.

back to the future

I have to limit myself to how many pictures of each bird I use I think, not least because I'll never stop, and there are more birds in the world than gannets.

So which final one shall I use? Well I try and pick pretty ones, so for colour, contrast and pose I think I'm going to return to one taken one the same day as the diving pair above. Laying on a low 2m high 'cliff' on the very edge of the sea with a cuppa from a flask and a bikky. This gives the opportunity to capture the odd Gannet as they retake the air following a dive.

The low camera and sun angles create a beautiful deep blue that sets off the subtle colours of the bird rather nicely I think.

And, as I keep having to you remind you, it is my website!

Cormorant Phalacrocorax carbo

Earlier names inc: Sea Crow, Coal goose (Kent), Scart (Lancs, Northern Ireland and Orkneys) derived probably from Skarf (Norway). Shetlanders called adult cormorants 'loering' and their young 'brongie'. Cormorants feature in a fair bit of folklore: Thompson (1833) relates that the belief amongst the people living about Lough Neagh (Ireland) is that the birds must travel to the sea at least once a day for a drink of salt water, and they would die within 24 hrs if they couldn't. Swainson (1885) tells of a story that on the 9th Sept 1860 a cormorant took up residence on the steeple of Boston Church (Lincolnshire, England) much to the alarm of superstitious parishioners. There it remained till it was shot by the church's caretaker. The fears of the credulous were confirmed when news reaches them of the sinking of the 'PS Lady Elgin' and the drowning over 300 passengers, one of whom was the much-liked MP for Boston, Mr Herbert Ingram.

At this point I should finish with the theme from the 'twilight zone' or X-files. I'll choose something a little more cultured that reinforce superstitious links between Cormorants and the Devil. In John Milton's 'Paradise Lost' he writes of Satan flying into the ‘Garden of Eden’ and perching:

     " On the tree of life,
       The middle tree, the highest there that grew,
       Sat like a cormorant."

As we all know birds are direct descendants of dinosaurs, and I sometimes think Cormorants show this heritage well. Look at these two pictures below, and tell me I’m wrong. Come on, it’s a baby Plesiosaur.

Now, before I get excommunicated from my almae matres I do happen to know plesiosaurs aint dinosaurs, and that I’ve rather simplified lineages here. But, there is a thing called poetic licence, and I’m using that right. So, if there are any pedants out there who want to object to what I said, stick that up your bottoms.

lest we forget

Late one frozen winter’s afternoon I wandered down to Stirling University’s loch (a small one) wondering if there might be a couple of nice ducky pictures up for grabs as they settled down for a cold night. Most of the surface turned out to be frozen with all the ducks, and a few gulls, floating around jammed together into a fairly small patch of open water by one shore. A captive audience for me.

Whilst tracking a sweet ‘tuftie’ through the very narrow field of view of the ‘500’ he suddenly turned about, swam determinedly away from me, jumped onto the ice, and just stood there. ‘Miserable git’ I thought, and panned about trying to find another through the lens. Nothing! I couldn’t find anything in the crammed little space. ‘WTF’......!

...... taking my eye from the viewfinder I see the ‘pond’, crammed full only moments before, was now totally empty, with all the previous occupants standing along the edge the ice, looking at each other, and back at the empty water. Again, WTF was going on? It looked for all the world like a fire-drill! Do they have them in ponds I wondered.

Just then everything became clear as this 'hunter-killer’ surfaces in the middle of this small ice-free space. Cormorants are primarily, almost exclusively, fish-eaters, and certainly can’t swallow an adult duck anyway. But they certainly could manage a tasty little duckling or two. Hence, I suspect all mummy ducks tell their chicks about the dangers from the deeps and evil cormorant who’ll grab their little tootsies and pull them down, forever. Mebbe they have their own version of ‘Little Red Riding Hood’. Whatever it was called they had all learned it well. Of course I ought to add a little evolutionary reality here. I should have said that all those chicks who didn’t listen to their mummies got ate up, and didn’t live to pass the story on. That’s exactly how evolution works, well something like that! Ditto what I said earlier about this poetic licence stuff, so put your pen down. Anyway, still a dinosaur.

Fulmar (northern) Fulmarus glacialis

Name is apparently related to 'Foumart', an earlier name for the polecat, itself meaning 'foul martin', all of which is to say they kinda stink ! Well, they readily discharge (a polite word for a change) a stinking oil when threatened or handled. Fair enough if you ask me, I don’t imagine anyone grabbing one from its nest has any good intentions really.

Swainson 1856 suggests that the Icelandic and Danish names of 'Fole mar' and 'Hav hest' respectively mean sea horse and relates both to its movements on water as well as the snorting noise it can make when breathing. Sadly, I cannot seem to confirm the Icelandic part of this as Swainson apparently presents to a phonetic version of the name, probably related via a Shetland whaler, who heard it from a Lowestoft trawlerman in a pub in Oslo.

Talking of Shetland, which I do whenever I can, they called them Malmock, Malduck or Mallemock. The pictures here all come from those islands.

home sweet home !

Voyeurism probably isn’t to be encouraged, but there are often little places on coastal cliffs where, if you lay down and look over the edge (preferably with feet held tightly by several strong blokes/ladies/blocks of cement) you can gain total access to the private lives of those below. Sadly, I never have strong blokes or, doubly sadly, strong ladies with me, but I am nosey.

This cute Fulmar, just looks so comfy and relaxed. Not something you might imagine possible wedged into little rock hole near the top of a 400ft cliff, still each to his/his own.

neighbours!

Seabird colonies are just plain noisy, everyone has something to say, nice or otherwise. Just next door to the last bird a new couple has moved in, and they just don’t shut up, music full blast, always arguing, and they’ll be having kids next. And there’s not even a thin wall.

Despite the racket, it does look sort of cozy in there right now, but when the next south-westerly storm blows in?

One thing I do know for sure, tho. is that I will not be here leaning over this cliff edge taking snaps when it does.

Des Res

Not all apartments are the same of course, this upmarket suite comes complete with a balcony for sunny afternoons. It does look idyllic. And she seems to be enjoying it.

CHARADRIIFORMES

Guillemot: Common (Common Murre) Uria aalge

Variously called: Greenland dove (Orkney Isles), Sea pigeon and Rock Dove (Ireland), Sea Dovie (Forfar), Diving pigeon and Puffixet (Farn Isles), Scraber (Lothian and Hebrides) and Tystie (Orkney and Shetland). The Welsh call it Cas gan longwr meaning the sailor's hatred because it was said to foretell a storm.

n.b. this has been one of the hardest species to reconcile with earlier and parochial names because taxonomy has altered a tad in over 140 yrs. and Swainson (1885) also appears to have 'typo' in it. So, if I've made errors, and you notice, let me know. I just didn't want you to miss out !

..... missed opportunity

well I lived in Shetland for a couple of years, and despite that I find I bought very few pictures of this gorgeous sleek bird back home with me. I don’t really know why. I have to return. And those that did come back are all …….

So a placeholder, to embarrass me to return. I have a sequence I took during a boat outing to several cliffs on Noss. At one point, creeping closer in to get a chance to photograph several species congregated on a ledge just above the sea, I saw what I though might be a cute image of the heads of a row of guillemots against the white bellies of a row above and behind them. Yeah it could have been, but close to the cliff the sea was a lot choppier, and we were in the shadow of the looming cliffs above. I needed high shutter speed to kill the boats motion, some more depth of field as I wasn’t flat-on to the group I wanted. And, as all who owned knows one the old Canon 7D was ‘noisy’, meaning high ISOs wouldn’t be much use. Well the outcomes were predictable, blur.

As most will know Guillemots exist in two colour ‘schemes’: heads all black or with white ‘spectacles’. It signifies no more than say human hair colour, it’s just a bit of what, I believe, ‘car-fanciers’ call ‘detailing’. Who knows they’re as barmy as train and plane spotters.

Puffin Atlantic Fratercula arctica

Swainson (1885) suggests its name my arise because it looks 'puffed out' or from its swelling beak. This latter, perhaps most endearing feature, gave rise to the names: Sea Parrot (from Norfolk), similar to the French 'Perroquet de mer' , Bottlenose, Coulterneb (Farne), Bill (Galaway) and Guldenhead. Pipe or Pope come from Cornwall and Willock from Kent, although the origin for these names is not described. From the location of particular colonies, we get Bass Cock and Ailsa Cock (Scotland) and Ailsa Parrot (County Antrim).

Has also been referred to as Tommy, Tommy noddy or Tommie norie (Farne and Scotland), the norie here meaning a boy. There is an old Scotch jocular saying when a young man cannot address a rustic coquette:

' Tammie Norie o' the Bass Canna kiss a bonny lass '

This is presumably referring to both the perceived shyness of the Puffin combined with its long bill giving it an air of stupidity. Frankly that explanation is too long for such small ditty.

When it comes to names of course you may ponder the mystery of why the Latin binomial name Puffinus puffinus is not applied to the Puffin, but to the Manx shearwater. The Puffin instead being given the name Fratercula arctica , what is this madness? Well, the story is somewhat complicated, and with that little taxonomic tease I'll move on !

just chillin'

Well, who doesn’t love a Puffin? That huge bill ought to make them look ridiculous, perhaps it does, but look at him! He’s got to be amongst everyone's top ten ‘birds you want to take home and cuddle' list. Puffins have another huge advantage over other cliff-nesters in my mind. They nest on top, meaning I don’t have to terrify myself to get pictures!

This chap is sitting happily overlooking the sun-lit Atlantic, which here provides a nice dark blue backdrop for his bill. It's why I took it after-all.

another head and shoulders

I mean the rest of the Puffin is just a chubby little black and white bird right, so I won't apologise for another head shot

This time set against dried cliff-top grasses, it was a long dry and sunny summer, in Shetland! Yes, you heard me. It happens.

face-off

The one face a Puffin can’t pull off, the menacing stare!

pleasure flight

Sometimes when you watch a bird hovering, you can see the work going into it, imagine kestrel. This guy, not so much.

He has literally just stepped off the cliff-top, and the steady updraught from the westerly wind (I didn’t say the wind had stopped too, it is Shetland!) just holds him there. A little flex of a wing, or a twitch of a foot to compensate for any vortices or gusts, and he just hangs there. Notice how his feet are held, working as rudders, compensating for his stubby tail. And what’s more he stays like this, essentially motionless in the air, for well over a minute. It is an exquisite display of this birds mastery of the air. Handy if you walk off clifftops I guess,

To round off this performance, I kid you not he then just drifted slowly to the side and stepped back onto the cliff, mere inches from where he stepped off. He hadn’t travelled more than a couple of feet.

What was it all for, sheer exuberance, me? I have no idea, but it was enjoyable to watch.

LARIDAE

Can I make a little plea for this group. Most people, if they think of gulls at all, probably do so with, at best, distaste to contempt. Sure they can be noisy, often literally 'in your face', some would say extremely messy, they even nick the odd ice-cream from people’s hands. Oh, and here’s a true fact: a well-fed Herring Gull, can fill the insides of a Mazda MX5 with a prodigious quantity of truly disgusting shit, in a single bomb run. It taught me two things, never leave the car's roof down when popping into a shop for a moment no matter how nice the day, and how fast one’s plans for a lovely day on the beach can change to a significantly less lovely one scrubbing and scrubbing the inside of a car. Oh, and one did score a direct hit on the top of Julie’s head in Stromness, Orkney. That taught me how hard it is to cuddle someone no matter how you love them when they’re wearing Eau d’Gullshit.

All that said then, the main reason they are a pain is simply us, yes us, again. We perform extensive messy fishing operations, that increases their numbers and teaches them to associate us with food, something we then then reinforce by dumping half-eaten fast-food all over our streets. What we do manage to ‘clear-away’ we dump into open landfill sites. They are of course a highly intelligent group and we have taught them to be the way many of them are. We put free food out, in large quanties, did you think they wouldn't notice?

Black-headed Gull Chroicocephalus ridibundus

Head colour (in summer) gave us the old names Black Cap (not to be confused with the Blackcap!), Black Head, Brown-headed gull (actually more exact than the current name) whereas Red-shanked and Reg-legged gull (both from Ireland), Red-legged pigeon mew (Norfolk) refer to, go on have a guess, yes, its bright red legs and feet! The names Puit, Peewit Gull (Norfolk) Sea Crow and Mire Crow were given because of their habit of following the plough searching for exposed insect larvae.

Regional names include Scoulton pie (Norfolk), Potterton gull (Aberdeen) Collochan gull (Kirkcudbright), Bakie (Shetland), Maddrick gull (Cornwall), Pickie burnet (Roxburgh).

Chroicocephalus ridibundus Black-headed gull

Black-headed gull, on a stick !

It's a cold winter's late afternoon, and going to get colder, it is winter after-all. And this chap is showing his winter plumage.

I like the way he's sitting there, just looking, musing perhaps. Mebbe he's wondering whether this is a good place to spend the night. in the meantime I don't wonder about this problem at all, it's all worked-out, hot-shower, bar, restaurant, hotel room. All nice and warm. Perhaps he's thinking: Who's that smug bastard, I should fly over there right now and shit on his head?

Babe, it's cold outside

Well you don't need me to tell you, just look at that body language. Shoulders drawn in, feathers puffed out. Yes of course he's got his own duvet, but he's standing on the ice, no wellies, no socks.

This is the next morning, and this may be the same bird from the previous evening. He's been out here all night and it is bloody cold. And I've forgotten my gloves again.

the way birds cope with this bare feet/cold issue is very interesting, just too boring for right now. Try: here n.b. this links to an external website

Common Gull Larus canus

Mew, or Maa, both derived from the Icelandic for the cry of a bird feature widely in earlier and regional names for this gull as in: Mew, Sea Mew, Sea Maa, and Sea Mall (Scotland). Similarly, from Shetland we have Small Maa and Blue Maa, with Gow from Aberdeen. From England we have something of a more varying theme with: Cobb or Sea Cobb (Kent, Essex, Suffolk and, yay, Norfolk). This bird's habit of appearing at the time of barley sowing and following the plough gave us Seed Bird and Barley Bird. The derivation of the names Annet (Northumberland) Winter Bonnet and the lovely Coddy Moddy (my favourite here) sadly remain unknown to me.

Common gull, on a stick !

I prefer to photograph solitary birds, something that can often be hard in the case of many gull species, they have a lot of friends. But, dejectedly walking back in the rain from yet another failed attempt to find a pair of Grey Wagtails I knew were ‘somewhere’ along a stream, I came across this chap looking, so it seemed, in much the same mood as I, he's even got a drop of rain on his 'nose'. Saying hello politely, we shared our woes for a bit, then he asked if I would mind taking his picture, I did, and we parted good friends.

What made me stop and take this one was simply the way he stood out from the sombre weather and the green of the pasture behind. Yes I could have done without the fence poles, but I was using that damned RF100-500 at the time. the aperture is way too small to give good bokeh. Right stop moaning.

Herring Gull Larus argentatus

Regionally known as Silvery (Ireland), White Maa (Shetland), Willie Gow (Lothian, Aberdeen) and Laughing Gull (Belfast). Also called Cat Gull (Kirkcudbright), now this moniker either arises from its call or mebbe from its predation of newly released or hatched game birds. Apparently, they were detested by gamekeepers (what wasn't I wonder?).

Herring gulls, on a rock !

These two pictures are here because I like to think they tell a story of love, well who doesn’t like one of those. Mind you I might be wrong, still it’s a nice story. The top one was taken in November and shows a pair of what I’ve been told by several of my betters, if not elders, are Herring gulls. And I’ve checked with a lot of serious birders (they never larf). The problem with gulls tho’ is that most go through several potentially problematic plumage changes over the first 2 or 3yrs of life, in addition to the usual annual summer/winter cycle adults do. If they are both Herring gulls they appear to be young birds in winter attire, one perhaps a year older than the other. Look, I first thought one was a lesser-black backed (see the slightly different leg colour) but I was told this can vary a lot early on.

And then let’s not forget the Yellow-legged gull. All three species are similar size so I just think aaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrgh. Normally, as the ID is ambiguous I would have left it out. But there’s that love story right.

I just think it looks as the chap is showing his new mate around, asking what she thinks of the place, does she want to settle down around here, have some screaming argumentative chicks.

Herring gull pair, is it love?!

So skip forward to early April, this is the same rock, and if this is the same pair, they now sport the latest summer plumage, ready to rock on the chick front. She appears to be much more relaxed now.

Ok, all of that might well be a load of anthropogenic nonsense. But it was that or the ‘Ring-species’ story, and that isn’t as romantic (see below.

Herring gull, on a chapel!

And here he is waiting atop the chapel for his bride to be. Probably not, but hey if we’re telling stories.

Lesser Black-Backed Gull Larus fuscus

Well, is there another bird in Swainson (1885) with fewer recorded historical names than this species I haven't found it yet. We have Gray Gull and, from Shetland, Said Fool, what a great name. And that's all folks !

So, we have space for a little evolutionary diversion. LBB gulls and Herring gulls were considered to represent the ends of a classic ring-species around the northern circumpolar region. This is (was) a species that starts in one place, parts of the population then spread, in this case east with the prevailing winds, over time this part diversifies into another race/species which undergoes the same process, etc. etc. until they get all the way round and meet up with their ancestors again, voila, two new species, Herring and LBB gulls. In theory, this gives us a band, or ring, of inter-graded species. Can I add two caveats 1: this is much simplified, but it's been a long time since my first degree (go read Mayr (1963) 2: it all depends on what we call a species, biologists have a definition, but this is seldom invoked, esp. by the birding fraternity, who seem determined to split species into two at every opportunity. Anyway, all this ring-species stuff has been called into doubt (Liebers 2004}.

What did that prove? Well, it tells you that if you stick 2 academics into a room, you'll get at least 3 vociferously argued opinions (it is, after-all, what you pay them for)

Stroll in the sun

On a recent quick trip to Lisbon I visited as many likely bird spots as I could identify on a map, this led me to a sewage treatment works (often a good location for birds), but sadly the gates were locked. Kicking my feet I strolled around and found a little park adjacent the site with views over the same lagoon. I wandered in, I had just driven for an hour, to see what I could see. Mostly dog-sh*t it turns out and so, not wanting to scrub the carpet of the hire car, I turned to leave, carefully. Then this chap just flew in and strolled past. I asked him if he minded and I took a few frames of him.

He seems in moult, it is was November, so I promised to explain that to everyone and tell you he said I should have seen him a few months earlier when, according to him, he was ‘magnificent’, I’m sure he was.

I walked out, studying the ground closely, which rewarded me not only with clean shoes but close views of a Zootoca vivipara basking on the path, got a few pics, which I appear to have deleted somehow!

Yellow-legged Gull Larus michahellis

Well you’d better believe that naturalists, birdwatchers, birders, twitchers have all been at their ‘game’ for a long time, centuries really (this isn’t tautology, they’re all very different species). And there are a lot of them, oh yeah, and many are keen, keen, keen (this isn’t tautology either, just repetition for effect). And books, and guides, there are simply thousands, and all written by people who have looked very, very, very closely. So, it would be surprising, would it not, if they had all over-looked a species. We’re not talking of some minute brown beetle in Outer Mongolia, nope we’re talking of a great big bird in Europe and North Africa.

But, now the ‘splitters’ have managed to find a new one, and what was previously thought a race of Herring Gull or Caspian Gull is, since what no doubt, must have been a truly exciting day in 2005, is now the all-new Yellow-legged Gull, or Larus michahellis after the Bavarian naturalist Karl Michahelles. I wonder what he would have thought of that.

I do hope, nothing said above is taken, in any way whatsoever, as sarcasm.

What do we think?

I am quite old, and apparently we had less birds in the 1960s, hence I found myself walking past a Herring Gull standing alone in some rough pasture. No I thought, hang-on, walking backward for a bit, that's one of those new-fangled Larus michahellis-sss, it's hard to keep up sometimes with all these new models.

So here it is. Yeah, I know, like an iPhone, it looks the same as last year's model.

What does he think?

So many questions, I wish I could ask him to be honest, does he still eat fish, does he still fancy lady Herring Gulls !

Slender-billed Gull Chroicocephalus genei

As a very occasional vagrant visitor to the UK Swainson (1885) is simply blank on this species, so no old names of folklore with which to entertain you, ho hum. So, well, they are a delicate species, tad bigger than Black-headed gull, breed in isolated places around the Mediterranean, Black, and Caspian Seas. Over-winters as far afield as East Africa, through middle-east to the east coast of India.

Wasn't very exciting, was it? But at least you now know where to go to see one! A pity Swainson never took a holiday to the Med.

Morning rays

Using my new-found, sadly transient, ability to leap (poetic licence) out of bed early I was wandering around an area of salinas on the western Algarve coast, before sun-rise. Pools full early morning sounds and calls. Anyone know Brian Eno's track ‘Unfamiliar Wind’, if you’ll pardon the phrase, and 'a clearing', from the album 'On Land’? Like that, just less synthesiser. As the sun broached the horizon the first bird I came across was this sweet little chap, seemingly enjoying the first warm rays of dawn.

Arctic Tern Sterna paradisaea

From Shetland we have the name Tarrock, Sparling (Lancashire), with Skirr and Sea Swallow (Ireland). It was called Jourongs in Galaway. This name is derived from its 'cross and peevish' nature which apparently refers to the fact it would peck and bite itself when it was wounded and thrown into the bottom of the boat! Well after simply adding it is a pity they didn't peck and bite the bastards who did that to them, we'll move on.

what have I done?

I'm wandering around a lonely stretch of coast, low hills and what would be called lochans in Scotland, but the less poetic ‘water’ in Shetland. It was a harsh place to live, they didn’t have time for all that fancy ‘wander lonely/daffodil’ stuff. I was looking for red-throated diver. Anyway, you see how my mind wanders off without me, and that was how I found myself suddenly surrounded by screeches and squawks. Unknowingly, I had wandered into a tern colony, and I was being told, in no uncertain terms, to F...-off.

Without moving, lest I tread on an egg, I let the birds come to me and took a few quick pictures, they are beautiful and delicate-looking birds with those lovely tail-streamer, and I had a lovely bright blue sunny sky, so common on Sheltand, against which they contrasted so well.

After a few moments I back away, slowly I was causing them distress, let alone the risk to eggs or chicks.

Common or Arctic?

Common terns can be a bugger to tell apart from their Arctic cousins, some might think I have it here. But, apart from all that ‘larger/smaller/more/less delicate' stuff you see endlessly in bird guides, all utterly useless unless have BOTH birds in front of you right now (please tell this to future authors), the sure fire way is the tip of the bill, it is black/very dark in Common and deep red to the tip in Arctic, this is seen most clearly below. If you can see them clearly and close, that is, otherwise it's back to the books, and good luck!

following up

As I retreat one bird follows me for a bit, flying alongside, just to make sure I really am going.

I give him a passing shot in defiance, and this one more clearly shows that ‘red to the end’ bill.

Forster's Tern Sterna forsteri

An odd visitor to the UK, but so rare that that I cannot find any old, or colloquial, names for it, let alone any amusing anecdotes. So, let me think, I could amuse you with this part of the truly gorgeous and poetic description on Wiki: 'a medium-small tern, 33–36 cm (13–14 in) long with a 64–70 cm (25–28 in) wingspan and a weight ranging from 130 to 190 g (4.6-6.7 oz'. Well that surely excites interest, doesn't it? You get a real feel for this graceful living creature!

Perhaps, Johann Reinhold Forster (1729–1798), after whom the bird gets its moniker, can provide a modicum of amusement to fill this gap. Well, he was for a while a pastor in the reformed church (I have absolutely no idea from what, or why, they reformed, actually that might be interesting). Anyway, this sort of puts him into a group of 'continental pastor naturalists'. Later in life he served as naturalist aboard HMS Resolution during Thomas Cook's second expedition (1772-1775), lucky chap.

last one before I get a beer

Yup, another record shot really, but I came across this chap late in the afternoon, and tomorrow I carry-on driving north to the panhandle. So, not to make him feel left out, I snapped his picture.

As said, I must get back, not least because that bar on the beach was great, mebbe I’ll have a beer now in fact.

Royal Tern Thalasseus maximus

As with all birds not resident or breeding in the UK my old texts are simply devoid of stories, so how do I fill this space?

It is easy to forget that most parts of the world do not have such a strong heritage of study and writings on natural history, aided by a wonderful system of educated clergy, sometimes of wealthy families, who, apart from a bit of preaching, marrying, and a burying, had the time to devote to natural history. Later known as the 'parson-naturalists' (note not all were actual parsons!) like Willian Turner (1509ish-1568) through John W/Ray (1627-1705) considered by some to be the father of English natural history, to the more well-known Gilbert White (1720-1793: do go and read the 'Natural History and antiquities of Selbourne 1798, it's still in print).

In this group I would obviously want to include, of course, Charles Darwin (1809-1882), yes, he wasn't a parson, but he had planned to become one, and for sure his works on barnacles are only for the most dedicated. But, come on, he had a damned good idea or two! Now if you haven't heard of any of the above, except the last one, I'll forgive you. If you haven't heard of the last one, well the secret is to keep banging the rocks together guys.^*, it'll come to you. * due recognition to the late great Douglas Adams

Right back to Royal Tern, it's got a great big, bright orange-red bill, and lives on much of the southern coasts of the USA, Caribbean, and South America. So. get on a plane tomorrow and go see one, unless of course you live any of these coast already, in which case, go look out of the window. They are a beautiful bird, in flight especially.

welcome distraction

I spent a while walking Cedar Key’s beach and boat ramp, trying, trying, failing, failing, to get a nice shot of a Black Skimmer. They are gregarious and dozens flew about, settling for a bit, squabbled as others tried to find a space, and took off again. It was a pain!

Then this chap/lady flew quietly in and settled on concrete mooring right by me. Tiring of the skimmers for a moment, I turn and take their picture, it was, after-all, being nice and quiet. Sadly, it was too close to frame nicely, because I forgot all about the ‘zoom’ thing, but at least I’d pushed the shutter button for a change!

not so quiet

After getting a few crap pics of Skimmers, as a record, this chap flew in too and began squawking to get my attention so, to try to keep him happy, I took his picture too.

Black Skimmer Rynchops niger

This species is one of my favourite examples of how evolution hones functionality over beauty to produce some mighty odd-looking (to us) birds. To each other I guess they look just fine! They also belong to a genus with a truly excellent name, Rynchops, although I don't know how they feel about that either.

Having a lower bill markedly longer the upper allows them to fish in a unique way, flying low over the surface and trailing it in water, snapping the upper shut the moment a fish is detected. This is assisted with a good degree of binocular vision and, uniquely for birds, vertically-slitted pupils (think cats). This latter adaptation allows the bird to have relatively larger pupils for fishing at night (which it does), whilst still being able to function in full sunlight by permitting them to close tighter than circular pupils can.

rather poor

Well, I won't claim this is either a pretty, or even good, picture of this species. It is a record picture, awaiting my return to the US sometime. I must go and donate blood to those Everglade mozzies again, they must be getting hungry by now. Hint, go at end of summer when temporary pools and surface water has dried, not in Spring when they're full of the damned things.

SULIFORMES

take one, get one free !

get on a boat

float weed