Posts in Category: fauna
Scratch, the nuthatch.
It’s not every day you see a nuthatch find a small rosehip and try to juggle it up a tree stump. It reminded me of Scratch from *Ice Age*, who is always busy with his acorn. He did a great job and then put on a little show from the nearby birch tree. Thank you, dear nuthatch.
Rose-ringed Parakeets
I finally found them on Friday; under a cloudy sky and in a bit of a breeze, three of these amusing birds were perched high up in the trees. At first, I could only hear them—experiencing that classic “damn, where are you?” syndrome—because the calls were coming from the tree right in front of me, yet it took a good few minutes to actually spot them amidst all the greenery. Luckily, one of them flew a bit higher up to a sparser section of the tree. What really surprised me was the difference in behavior: in Düsseldorf, I’ve managed to get within 5–6 meters of them, but here in Ostpark, they seem much shyer and stay high up. I need more time—and perhaps I should bring along a few treats as a peace offering?
Storknado
When I’m at work, I often make a quick dash to the supermarket—just five minutes away—during my lunch break to grab something to eat. Until the middle of the year, the route there took me across a large field where buzzards, falcons, and even the occasional heron used to hunt. Now, the field is cordoned off and heavy construction machinery is rumbling about… Karben’s new local recreation area is taking shape. The last few times I walked past the field along the road, the large buzzard wasn’t perched in the surrounding trees or on nearby houses as usual; instead, it was sitting right on the ground, completely unfazed by the commotion. Of course, whenever I actually bring my camera along, it’s nowhere to be found—though I was treated to the sight of a swirling vortex of countless storks in the sky. At first, I thought they were cranes, but I didn’t hear any calls. I had never seen so many of them gathered in one place before, nor did I know they traveled in such large flocks. I always struggle with large crowds of animals—it’s hard to get good photos, so this is really just for documentation purposes.
Ostpark (Eastpark)
Funny thing. I spent almost every day of the late 90s right next to Ostpark, yet I rarely actually went inside. Even though I captured the summer there during a photography course in college—and a colony of grey herons lived on the island years later—I never really visited much after that. On my way to my weekly training session, which now takes place in Bornheim (we lost our dojo and are looking for a new training spot—please let me know if you hear of anything), I simply cycled through the park again. I enjoyed the sight of the large lake and, to my surprise, discovered a flock of rose-ringed parakeets perched in a tree, chattering away happily. I headed back out last Friday, but rose-ringed parakeets are smart and don’t show up in blazing sunshine; plus, it was very windy. Still, since I was already there, I took a look around, and I’m sharing a few photos of everything I saw during that hour. I might hang out there again tomorrow… who’s coming along? 😉
Black beauty
Even though we’ve known each other for quite a while and see one another often, he is still very shy. Perhaps it’s a one-sided notion and it’s a different black woodpecker each time—or maybe, to him, I’m just a different guy with a lens every time. Who knows. We met up again the day before yesterday (…or perhaps for the very first time) at the usual spot in the woods. I always hear him first, and sometimes I spot him up in the trees. How cool and wonderful would it be to have an observation deck up there? @Stadt_Offenbach, what do you say? It would be a huge draw for the nearby school and for nature lovers in general.
The light was lousy and the bird is black… autumn is here! 😉
Blue-Grey Visitor
Every now and then, I fill the small wooden bowl—which I attached to one of the branches I brought back from the forest for my balcony—with treats. Usually, the two plump pigeons show up and quickly eat their fill. The tits like to peck at the food too, and that ruffian of a squirrel has been known to spill the whole lot, leading to wild plant growth in the flower pots sitting below—we even got a few sunflowers out of it, though they didn’t withstand the heat for long. Recently, we found moths in some nut mixes, and my wife emptied them into the bowl. That fellow started showing up occasionally, too; he couldn’t resist the nuts-with-meat combo for long. The photo, however, was taken a few days later, and what he’s got in his beak really does look like meat—perhaps leftovers from the neighbor’s barbecue. Bon appétit!
David Duckerfield
Have you ever seen a mallard pull a Copperfield? Here you go! This expression… and yes, its partner—who was just showing herself off nicely a moment ago—has vanished with a loud splash. 😉
Little blue friend
After all, kingfishers have to spend their summer somewhere. I’d heard they migrate further north, yet I kept seeing photos on social media that didn’t come from quite that far away. I couldn’t spot any at my usual haunts during the heatwave, but today there were three of them. A pair zoomed past me at first, and I cursed, thinking I’d missed my chance—but fifteen minutes later, this male came back, caught a fish, and vanished into the thicket again. To think such tiny creatures can make me so happy… Hello, old friend! 😉
Green Sandpiper
The things you find in our area—despite its decidedly urban character. A green sandpiper, right near the heron from the last post. Shy yet noisy, it scurried along the opposite bank of the small body of water, chirping away, before soon flying off. I’m delighted by every new arrival at the renaturalized bend in the Main River; it shows that the concept is working. Biodiversity—here it comes.
The heron and I.
Out without a tripod again—something you always notice when you have to wait a long time for something. The heron and I had a long standoff—I’d guess 15–20 minutes—until he decided to ignore me and go back to hunting; it took quite a while longer before he actually struck. The weather and background weren’t ideal either, but getting any closer or finding a better angle simply wasn’t possible. We were both standing in the blazing sun; I was dripping with sweat, while he stood in the water, cool and deliberate, snatching up frogs. The busy background is further accentuated by heat haze in the air… Go out in the evening, Falk! Or in the morning—that’s when photographers go out, not when the sun is at its peak.
Red-breasted Mergansers
I first spotted a flock of red-breasted mergansers at Cape Arkona. They were moving rapidly through the water in a chaotic formation, taking turns diving. To me, it looked like the whole group was hunting together. They were too far out for my camera, and—as always happens on vacation—it was the middle of the day, meaning the light was coming straight down from above.
I took these shots a week and a half later at the start of the Nordperd, where the beach becomes harder to access. The time of day was similar, and that harsh overhead light cast heavy shadows on their faces. I was being lazy; I really should have cycled back there in the evening and done some scrambling, but hey… it was a vacation.
Sancho & Pancho
During my last three days on Rügen, I rented a bicycle and cycled around the southeastern corner of the island. My first destination was the *Schwarzer See* (Black Lake), as eagles were said to be frequently spotted there. The lake has only two small spots where the water is visible; the rest of the shoreline is densely overgrown and under strict nature protection. Waiting on the jetty mostly attracted crowds of visitors rather than any large birds. However, this pair of frogs was sitting on an old tree stump right by the jetty, completely unbothered by the passersby. Relying entirely on their camouflage, they went unnoticed by everyone but me 😉
Yellowhammer
Not only am I colorblind, but I also often have “scales over my eyes” (or just a bit of poor eyesight); I stood for a good five minutes in front of the bush where this yellowhammer was trilling its little tune. It must have been sitting right in front of my nose at eye level—and as you can see in the photos, it wasn’t hiding in the dark thicket but sitting quite out in the open. With plumage and a song like that, you *want* to be heard and, above all, seen! I crept closer, and then—as so often happens—I got too close; I only spotted the bird when it flew up into the tree above me. Well, that means I ended up with shots from the “cheap seats” (10 meters further down) instead of nice portraits, but you do get to see another resident of Rügen: mosquitoes… they are everywhere in droves. A nuisance for us, but surely a tasty snack for some birds.
Fun fact: In English, the bird is called a “Yellowhammer”! Was Arnie along for the birding trip? “Dis iz a Yellowhammer!” — or did we in Germany just lose the “h”? 😉
Sand Martins
In the past, if sailors spotted them from their ships, it meant land was near. On Rügen, the sandy cliffs provide the perfect habitat, so they can be found on many beaches—in this instance, we found them at the northern beach. Since we had gone there for a swim, the timing was naturally far from ideal for good photos. The sun was high, though I did find an overhang that provided some shade. The odds were stacked against me—the swallows themselves are tiny and incredibly fast… well… lots of photos, a few nice snapshots capturing the lively activity around the burrows. Funnily enough, they seem to do a lot of things in unison; at times, the burrows appeared deserted, until the entire flock returned all at once, and the chattering, fluttering, and digging started up again.
Cormorants at sea
I don’t know what it is that keeps drawing me to these birds. They actually look quite clumsy when flying. Aerodynamically, their wings seem too small for their long bodies, forcing them to flap constantly—which consumes a great deal of energy. Underwater, however, they are incredibly agile. Somehow, I like them. Here by the sea, the wind catches their wings; when they glide just above the water’s surface and the sun hits them just right—even though noon is technically the wrong time of day, it lends a wonderful texture to the water and their feathers—they look truly graceful. A few impressions. Hunting and with prey… that will be the next photographic goal.
The Island of Eagles
After nearly going extinct, Rügen once again boasts a growing population of white-tailed eagles—reportedly around forty breeding pairs. Naturally, capturing one on camera would be a dream come true.
My inquiry to the local bird ranger likely ended up in the spam folder, so I did some research myself. Several locations popped up—always accompanied by the reminder to keep one’s distance and under no circumstances disturb the animals. That goes without saying, of course; it’s a rule that applies anytime, anywhere.
A glance at the map quickly revealed that you can’t get very far on Rügen without a car, especially not into the remote areas. That’s why we rented one for the first week; the beautiful riding stable in Schwarbe would have been nearly impossible to reach by bus alone.
So, the countdown to my eagle-spotting expedition was ticking slowly toward zero, yet all week long I felt too lethargic to actually get moving in the morning. On Thursday, we attended the Störtebeker Festival and took a round-trip ferry ride across the two large *Bodden* (coastal lagoons). And, of course, an eagle appeared not far from the boat and made a kill—while I was there without my camera.
So today, I gave myself a kick in the pants, set the alarm for an ungodly hour, and—feeling completely groggy—set off on Friday. I fed the parking meter at Schaabe, but after an hour of wandering along the lagoon shore, I decided to drive on to Liddow; the entire bank was choked with reeds, ruining both the view and any chance of taking photos.
Liddow is beautiful and accessible via old concrete-slab roads, yet here, too, you can’t actually get to the water. The realization hit hard: the island is simply too big and the expanses of water too vast to find an eagle here by sheer luck. Even if one is hunting in the lagoon, it’s too far away for decent photos. Roe deer, cranes, red-backed shrikes, swallows… they were all there, but the king of the skies remained out of reach.
Mentally moving on from that, I climbed down to our rocky beach on the north coast with the family. I wanted to catch a little sleep, but Josh wasn’t really having it. And that’s how it happened: right on the very rock where I had photographed three cormorants just minutes earlier, this majestic creature paused for a moment. My heart is still racing! I’ve rarely been so moved with happiness. You travel halfway across the island, and then—just when you’ve stopped expecting it—the eagle simply comes to visit me, landing barely thirty meters away on a picture-perfect rock.
My mentor once said, “When the student is ready, the master appears.” Perhaps it’s the same with photography? When the photographer is ready, the animal appears? This is my year of birds of prey!
Beach Monster #2 – Ichneumon Wasp
Just as the sun was setting beautifully over the rocky beach on Rügen, this ichneumon wasp appeared and landed on a light-colored stone right in front of me. Okay… they wanted a photo, so they get a photo. Their offspring are said to be a natural, eco-friendly secret weapon against moths, as the larvae destroy the host—namely, the moth larva. They certainly are striking to look at, though I’m not entirely sure I’d want them flying around my kitchen.
Beach Monster #1 – Tiger Beetle
According to Wikipedia, they actually prefer it hot—34°C or higher—but given that there are over 2,300 species, it is hardly surprising to find them scurrying along the beach at Cape Arkona. Yes, that’s right: when hunting, they sprint at speeds of up to 2.5 m/s—so fast that their eyes can no longer process the path ahead, meaning they hunt blindly for brief moments. Since they haven’t gone extinct—quite the opposite, in fact, as they were everywhere here—the strategy seems to work, and I am once again amazed by the things I discover and learn through my lens.
Mr. and Mrs. Red-backed Shrike
You can rightly call yourself lucky when you deliberately return to the same spot—hoping to get a good shot of a bird you’d previously only seen and photographed from afar—and manage to capture it without any special preparation or time to spare. I had spotted the Red-backed Shrike near the Reiningishausen ruins a good two and a half weeks ago. I finally made it back there the day before yesterday, but at first, there was no sign of him. There were swans, ducks, little grebe chicks, and the stork family I’ve been watching for a while up in their nest—but the bird with the “Beagle Boy” bandit mask was nowhere to be seen. Eventually, I found him and his mate on the other side of the water. I had actually just wanted to see if the light on the stork nest was better from that angle, but unexpected things often happen… he was far away, sure, but at least the Shrike family was still around.
Yesterday, I met up with two of my best friends there—we planned to cycle a bit further—so I had very little time or hope of getting close to him, given the entourage and the lack of time for photography. As fate would have it, he flew right in front of us—from the field, across the path, and into the trees—and sat there patiently until we had all stopped and I had managed to fish my camera out of my backpack. Thanks for posing, Mr. Shrike—next time I’ll call ahead, I promise.
Sooo hot!
When the first hot day arrived a good three weeks ago, I came across a few house sparrows at the Kellerhof in Hainhausen. After brief flights spent hunting insects, they perched in the shade, panting heavily and holding their wings away from their bodies. It was hot… for me, too.
Small White butterfly (kleiner Kohlweißling )
Its caterpillars are considered pests because—surprise, surprise—they feed on things like cabbage (hence Kohl in German). Does that explain those striking eyes? I’ve never seen pupils like that anywhere else. It’s often a surprise when you look at the world through a magnifying glass. I cherish every moment and feel just like the Little Prince on a voyage of discovery. How about you?
Skipper butterfly
… a rust-colored one, to be precise. Along the new floodplain, created thanks to the beaver dam behind the castle in Heusenstamm, two large thistle bushes stand by the path. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much life on a single plant. At least one insect was buzzing and fluttering on every blossom. More macro photos to follow in the coming days.
One for the record
It’s just fun to be out and about—camera at the ready in the bike basket—and simply go with the flow. What goes around comes around, and on some days you encounter so many new things that you can hardly keep up. I’d caught a glimpse of this fellow flying off a few times before, but I was always too slow. Then, last week, he turned up at the old mill ruins in Heusenstamm; he was quite far away, and I had no idea what had just flown into my lens, but there he is: Mr. Red-backed Shrike—one for the record. I’ll likely lie in wait there again soon to get better shots.
Feet as big as the guy himself…
The newly restored Friedrichsweiher in my neighborhood has turned out beautifully. While I still mourn the turtles—which presumably didn’t survive the renovation—the water is clearer than ever, and I’ve known this pond my whole life. It’s also busier than I’ve ever seen it; children are even swimming in it! I’m all the more delighted, then, that the waterfowl have returned and already have offspring. The moorhen family has two or even three chicks, though one of them is always the odd one out—or perhaps actually belongs to a different pair. The best thing about the little ones, however, is their feet; apparently—much like with dogs—they reach their full size right after hatching, revealing just how big the bird will eventually grow to be. Aliens, I tell you!
Hornbill
… or more precisely, the Von der Decken’s hornbill—named after its discoverer, Karl Klaus von der Decken from the 19th century. You can find them in East Africa and at the Vivarium Darmstadt, which we visited again just under two months ago. Always worth a visit.
When a colleague recently introduced me by saying, “This is Falk—he photographs birds,” I briefly wanted to object; yet, in truth, it is indeed my feathered friends that captivate me most. So, I simply carry on, peering through the viewfinder with the same cheeky, spirited look that this wonderful bird gave me as it stared into my lens. They say these birds often team up with mongooses: the mongooses flush out the insects the hornbills love to eat, and in return, the hornbills sound the alarm if danger threatens. Clever and beautiful.
Little grebe offspring
I love the new ponds and pools at the Fechenheimer Mainbogen. The renaturation project began back in 2015, and I first heard about these new bodies of water from Dirk, who gave us a big hand with the renovations at the Digital Retro Park in 2018. “It’s a great place to unwind.” Yep, it certainly is. When I first made a point of cycling past these ponds four years ago, the area was still quite bare, and beavers were gnawing away at the young willows. But year by year, I’ve watched the flora and fauna flourish and new species appear. This is the second season I’ve spotted the little grebes, and I managed to make out two chicks.
Lapwings
I had spotted them in a field in Someren (NL) two years ago, but I couldn’t get close enough to identify them. Yes, I do own a hefty pair of binoculars, but they always stay at home—after all, how much gear can one person lug around?
They spotted me from afar, and one took flight, circling noisily around me. Once I’d hidden in the ditch for a while, things quieted down, and the bird landed back at the exact spot where it had taken off. I suspect there’s a clutch of eggs there, or perhaps even chicks. In any case, it was right in the middle of a cultivated field—so it wouldn’t be great for the animals or the farmer if I went marching in there—though I *was* nearly run over by a quad bike as I climbed out of the ditch. Ultimately, it’s all a matter of getting used to things, and in my case, a question of needing more focal length and/or higher resolution. Teleconverter… yes, pleasexq.
It was great to find them in the same spot after two years; I counted at least six to eight birds in the area. According to Wikipedia, they’ve been on the Red List since 2015!
P.S.: I’m pretty sure that thing coming down in one of the shots is a blade of grass, not the “other thing.” 😉
On Blue-tailed and Azure Damselflies.
My attempts at identification are more like guessing games, so please feel free to put the correct names in the comments if you spot any errors. I believe I managed to capture both species in a single shot.
The small ponds along the Fechenheim and Bürgel bends of the Main River have become a veritable paradise for dragonflies and frogs. The day before yesterday, I was able to witness this colorful spectacle firsthand—a truly wonderful experience—as the reeds on the Bürgel side have not yet overgrown the breeding grounds, thus offering an unobstructed view of all the activity. It is simply incredible what is buzzing around in the air here, and in such density! While reviewing the photos, I found myself whistling the “Ride of the Valkyries” the entire time.
Ta-ta-ta-taaa taaa…
Puddle as last resort?
House martins and swallows are, generally speaking, incredibly fast aerial acrobats. This—combined with their small size—makes it extremely difficult to photograph them in flight. Fortunately, I discovered a puddle where they were evidently gathering nesting material; consequently, they arrived in droves—lingering briefly before taking flight again. Unfortunately, this puddle is located on private property, behind a fence, which meant I had to shoot from a higher vantage point and from a distance. This was far from ideal; despite having good lighting and a fast shutter speed, an ISO setting of 3000 proved too high to capture fine details. As a result, I ended up with nothing but heavily cropped images of small, noisy birds. I plan to stop by again today to see if I can obtain permission to enter the grounds, allowing me to work from a closer distance and capture better perspectives.
Uproar in the Woods
Today, during my morning walk through the woods with Spike, the alarm was raised. From a distance, I could already hear the call of the Black Woodpecker, but the crows, a Eurasian Jay, and the titmice were also making quite a racket—thanks to a bird language course with Wurzeltrapp, I now pay attention to such things. Unfortunately, due to the dense canopy, I couldn’t make out who was responsible for all the commotion, but it must have been something dangerous.
At any rate, the young Black Woodpecker perched on the exposed branches of a dead tree, allowing me to snap a few pictures. Beautiful? The bird, certainly; the perspective and lighting, definitely not—but then again, I have only ever seen a Black Woodpecker on the forest floor once before, and it was back up in the treetops faster than I could even raise my camera. A treehouse in the canopy and a boat for the lakes… now that would be a dream come true.
Robin the Daring
A family of robins is currently fluttering about in our garden. The “little one”—which, truth be told, isn’t really all that little anymore and is already flying around—is still being fed by its parents. Cheeky and uninhibited as they are, they were constantly right around us while we were doing our gardening chores. I’m not sure how I managed to end up with such high ISO values in broad daylight; it was likely due to the contrast between the bright background and the bird sitting in the shade.
What do you do when your supposedly great shots turn out noisy? “Let’s make them birds…”—as the good Bob Ross always used to say whenever he had random blobs on his canvas. I’m going to do it the other way around this time and turn them into art. 😉 It’s a quick and somewhat rough PWL job, but I’ve now found some inspiration for how to frame the next robin I catch looking downwards. Hopefully, the resolution will be spot-on next time, because the details of their plumage are simply stunning.
BARVO* Bird Love Story
This really requires no words at all (“…they can only do harm!” 😉 ). Just one brief remark: Do you really believe that this creature feels nothing? After all, there are movements afoot to authorize the culling of pigeons…. I certainly don’t believe that! — and mind you, at one point I had 13 pairs living and nesting on my balcony, making our lifes a living hell.
*BRAVO is/was a German youth magazine that postet so called “Foto-love-storys” – a comical approach with real fotostorys about teenager love topics.
Touchdown!
A whole lot of photos have piled up—from before my trip to Japan, and since I’ve been back, quite a few more gigabytes have already landed on my hard drive. I’m spending more time outdoors than in front of the computer—and summer is only just beginning! Good for me; bad for anything digital. 😉 I’m slowly working my way through them now—very slowly, actually, since a nasty bug has really knocked me out these past few days.
And now, here is a greylag goose coming in for a landing at the Fechenheim bend of the Main River. It’s always an amusing moment when they land—just as their webbed feet touch the water, they end up water-skiing for the next few meters. *Hears James Bond theme music and smiles.*
If looks could kill…
Another image from another encounter on the beach in Enoshima. This Black Kite perched on a streetlamp for a moment, then gave me this look before swooping past me and heading toward the water. This is surely how little mice must feel when they are locked in a predator’s sights.
Black-crested Bulbul
It’s a good thing the internet exists. How else would one match a name like that to a bird like this? Wikipedia calls it an Asian songbird—and indeed, it sang beautifully—which is how I was able to quickly spot it and its companions. Somehow, with its speckled plumage and that “just-rolled-out-of-bed” look, it strikes me as a juvenile. I like it!
The Oriental Turtle Dove
Yes, you read that right. The Orient has its very own turtle doves, and I find their plumage resembles the patterns seen on the kimonos in old drawings and paintings. What really blows my mind right now, however—leaving me sitting here with a huge question mark over my head—is the fact that in English (Engrish?), it apparently goes by the name “Oriental Turtle Dove” as well! So where exactly does the “turtle” come into the name? It’s baffling—but hey… it is the other side of the world; I’m slowly getting used to it.
White crane hunting.
Alongside the many grey herons, there was, of course, their white counterpart—a species very common in Asia. Hunting is a tricky business. The smaller juvenile was practicing, but even the adult bird came up empty-handed on my watch, catching nothing but water.
Sagi – Messengers Between Worlds
In Japanese culture, herons are viewed as travelers between worlds—messengers of spirits and the afterlife. Not in the manner of zombies, but rather as wise yet ambivalent beings. If you look into their eyes, it quickly becomes clear where such perceptions might originate. Often bearing a slightly annoyed, almost malevolent expression, they can at times appear quite arrogant and aloof.
Lookin’ at me?!
Jungle crows can be encountered everywhere in Japan—typically more often in cities than in the wild. The food supply is simply more abundant there; even though we had quite a struggle finding trash cans ourselves, these birds—like all members of their species—are prone to rummaging through waste bins or tearing open garbage bags while foraging, which is why they are often perceived as a nuisance. That stare, combined with their massive beaks, prompted me to keep a respectful distance.
Carpenter Bee… or something like that.
I’m absolutely hopeless at identifying insects, and Google isn’t always accurate, either. These ones were flying around in droves at the Nunobiki Herb Gardens in Kobe. They seem to be very territorial; they would hover motionless in one spot until another specimen crossed their airspace—at which point things would get fast and hectic. Once the rival had been chased off, the original spot was reclaimed. Good for me—and the camera! 😉 Their behavior strongly reminded me of that of dragonflies, and indeed, their eyes appear to have evolved in a similar way. Body size: 3–5 cm—I’d venture a guess that it’s a carpenter bee.
The Great Swallowtail
… or at least google thinks so. They were everywhere—wherever there were blossoms. My first encounter with them took place on the cable car, on the way to the Nunobiki Herb Gardens. At first, I mistook them for bats and was utterly astonished to see them out in broad daylight, right in the middle of the day. It took a few more days, however, before I finally found the time and tranquility to devote my attention to them. They usually keep their wings open when they land to drink, and these wings shimmer with shades of green and blue.
The Black Kite—Once More
Kites are not picky eaters; when it comes to food, they consume everything from earthworms and live prey—such as small rodents—to carrion. As long as it’s meat, it’s fair game. This particular kite managed to fish a dead bird out of Osaka Bay, but when I spotted him a short while later on the roof of a nearby factory, he was empty-taloned. Perhaps that choice morsel turned out to be too heavy—or perhaps it had simply been pickled in too much salt?
Blink, blink, big bird!
Another picture of one of the Enoshima kites. This one blinked at me with its nictitating membrane—or at least, that’s what I imagined. The fact that it tried to steal my chicken sandwich half a second later was the next step 😉 Is it considered promiscuity to take photos and eat at the same time, with all the vermin passing by?
Black kites as far as the eye can see.
I spent the second half of April with friends in Japan. We traveled from Fukuoka to Tokyo via Osaka. I hadn’t prepared much and just went with the flow, wanting to drift along and simply explore this unfamiliar world. I briefly considered leaving my full camera bag at home, but then the thought crossed my mind that I might never get back there, so I took my entire camera backpack with me. In the cities and parks, I found herons, turtles, various songbirds, and cheeky crows. The highlight, however, was a day at the end of the trip when I went to Enoshima alone and was greeted by flocks of birds of prey. Black kites, in large groups, snatching food from the hands of unsuspecting passersby—not gulls, but kites. Besides the city and the island, this was an absolute highlight, and I took far too many pictures, some of which I will present to you soon, but to start, here’s THE Air-Joradn shot…
It’s a jungle…
Today I’m taking a slightly different approach than usual, because on Thursday I attended the small but exquisite opening of Thomas Below-Holzers exhibition. Like me, he captures the natural beauty around our hometown of Offenbach. The exhibition’s focus is on showing that you don’t have to travel far to have wonderful encounters, which reminded me of the motto of my cahoonah.com blog: It’s a jungle out there… and yes, we are truly fortunate that the Rhine-Main metropolis offers so many green spaces and forests.
My “Frei-tag” (Friday) is a real day off, so I cycled a short loop from the old Offenbach cemetery to Lämmerspiel, past the Grünen Seen (Green Lakes) to Gailenberg, along the Main River to Rumpenheim Palace Park (first stop for wild garlic), Schultheis-Weier, and back via the Fechenheimer Gumpen (second stop for wild garlic). Not far, and everything easily and comfortably done in 3-4 hours, but I had so many wonderful encounters, like the nuthatches at the Green Lake who wanted to take up residence in a hollow in the old apple tree, but a woodpecker came by and there was a great commotion. They both flew at it a few more times but couldn’t drive it away. Then there was the green woodpecker on the Gailenberg, who immediately tried to hide from me… these are just a few of the encounters I had on Friday. You see, you don’t have to travel far or lie in wait for hours – just go out into nature with your eyes open. So get out there and let yourselves be enchanted – spring is magical! It’s worth it!… and it’s a jungle out there…
Lunch with the Sparrowhawk
A call from my mother: “There’s a bird of prey sitting in our linden tree.” Sure enough, and what a bird it was! A female sparrowhawk, if I’m not mistaken, and she’d made a fine kill… small, yellow plumage, and ringed. A canary that someone’s missing now? I’ll attach a picture of the band.
I climbed onto the conservatory roof on the second floor and slid down to within about 5-6 meters of it. Too many branches, but I managed to get a few good close-up shots. The whole garden was in an uproar. The small birds were squawking, ravens and magpies came and perched in the tree with her, albeit keeping a respectful distance. Bloody, but that’s nature, right in our gareden, in the middle city.
Encounter with another buzzard
This year, the encounters seem to happen in pairs. I’ve often seen the buzzard by the pond on the Fechenheim side of the Main River. Usually, he saw me first and flew away. Not this time! Again, he let me get within a few meters, and we eyed each other for a while. I sat down under his tree, which unfortunately is already budding and therefore doesn’t offer a clear view of him, and waited for him to take flight. Nothing! He just sat there. In the meantime, I walked around the pond twice—once to get a fresh battery, and the second time to bring my bike along—he wasn’t afraid and didn’t fly away.
As is often the case when waiting, when the right moment arrives, you’re not ready. And so it was here. He flew right to my feet, hovered briefly above me, and then fluttered off into the next tree. Too close for my lens. But I’m sure I’ll see him again. Thanks again for the lovely photos, dear buzzard!
Frogs
…everywhere! Every medium-sized puddle in the woods seems to vibrate with life. I’ve never seen so many frogs and frogspawn in one place. It’s going to be a tough year for the insects living near the water.
The frogspawn hangs in thick clumps along the banks, and if you look for a moment, it’s as if a thousand tiny eyes are staring back at you. “Banks” is a bit of an exaggeration, since these puddles will dry up completely again in the summer, but the frogs are surely used to that by now, and by then the offspring will already be on their own feet.
Frogger
They’re back again… in the same spot as every year. Frogs are apparently returning to their spawning grounds, and the little puddle that always dries up completely in the summer is teeming with life: There’s jumping and splashing everywhere you go. And there’s even a pirate frog with only one googly eye. Aye…
I’ll be keeping watch again tomorrow, because tomorrow is the first day of my new “Freitag” days, which will truly live up to their name. 😉 The bluish picture is a little art experiment…
Monsieur buse
Like every year, I hear them circling above the Döglemühle at this time of year. Their mating calls carry far and wide, and the numerous remains of nests in the trees above the parking lot show that they keep returning here. Of course, given the location—large stretches of fields and meadows along the Nidda River, the first of which is unfortunately being developed. Let’s hope it doesn’t drive the birds away. They aren’t endangered, and with estimates of up to 130,000 breeding pairs in Germany, buzzards have proven their adaptability.
