Discovering Iceland- On to the Latrabjarg Bird Cliffs

Our anticipation grew as we approached the Latrabjarg Bird Cliffs.  They are in the rugged Westfjords where roads are largely unpaved and often hug steep hillsides. Guard rails? Berms? Not really.  But the views are terrific.

These roads are not kind to small vehicles. Our ten-passenger Mercedes van was ideal.  Also comforting was that Jóhann Óli Hilmarsson was an experienced local driver.  There can be long distances to traverse, so slow driving was not an option.   It can get rough; the van's high clearance made accessing many locations possible.

Arriving at the bird cliffs, we experienced the strong winds sweeping up from the ocean below and Atlantic Puffins along the edges of the tall cliff. 

Pam made this photo of an Atlantic Puffin peeking up over the edge of the cliff.  Unlike the Puffins we would see later, these were not afraid of people.







 

If one was ready to lie flat on the grass right up to the cliff's edge, really close photos were possible.  Our photo guide, Nikhil Bahl, did just that.  By the time I developed some comfort with the edge, the puffins had moved from the edge.





Still, some striking images were possible.

We had two days at Latrabjarg which was about an half hour from our hotel in Breiðavik.  A great number of other birds are nesting along the seacoast, so there were many "distractions" along the roads to the cliffs.  On the next day, we were offered a Ringed Plover with a nearly helpless chick on a beautiful white sand beach.

Although we kept our distance, one adult still offered the broken wing ploy.  We limited our time in the vicinity.  There were plenty of other birds in the area to keep us firing away with our cameras.






On the inland side of  the road, there was a  small stream where we found a Red-necked Phalarope feeding.  We would see more of them at another stop. It was an urgent feeder, rarely pausing.

The birds are so plentiful in summer here, likely because there is a dearth of predators.  In short order that morning we found an Oyster Catcher seen at right and a Dunlin seen below.

It is time to get back to the cliffs and another charming bird, the Razorbill.  This pair was obviously courting on a small outcrop, where I summoned the bravery to approach the edge.

On our final evening at the Latrabjarg Bird Cliffs,  a most unusual event interrupted my pursuit of fresh Puffin photos.  As I walked toward the higher section of cliffs, a Common Murre chick dropped out of the sky onto the tall grasses.  Really! I believe one of the marauding Great Black-backed Gulls had snatched it from an unguarded nest, but lost hold of it as it flew overhead. The chick furtively scurried about seeking cover and finally decided my feet would be adequate.

The obvious question was what to do with the chick.  The location of its nest was somewhere down on the cliff, and no sane person would attempt to return it.











There was another complication due to the presence of an Arctic Fox actively working the cliffs.  There were numerous eggs shells lying around, suggesting it had been successful in robbing eggs from the nesting birds.  One side says the fox has young to feed and the other sympathizes with the helpless chick.  Interfere or let nature take its course?  In the end we took the chick back in our van to leave it with the hotel staff who would attempt to feed it.


To this day, I am not sure the outcome from our choice was any better than the alternative.

The next morning was an early departure to catch the Ferry Baldur for an overnight on Flatey Island.  It was a wonderful stop that I will save for the next installment.

Paul

Discovering Iceland- Reykjavik to Westfjords

Iceland has been on our bucket list for around five years.  Our route of discovery began on a Saturday at Dulles Airport, where Icelandair offers direct flights to Keflavik. As we gained altitude, we looked down at the Delaware Bay near Philly.

Arriving at midnight, one finds it is rush hour as a web of incoming flights arrive from both directions - Europe and North America.  A mass of passengers transfer to flights that continue their east or westbound travel.  Pam and I just transferred to a Greyline shuttle into Reykjavik for some sleep in a real comfy bed rather than an airplane seat. Nice.

Arriving a day early for our thirteen day Iceland Adventure from Naturescapes, we had some time to explore a little of modern Reykjavik before beginning our tour. The city is home to a majority of the country's 330,000 peoples.  The skyline is dominated by the soaring Hallgrimskirke.  In front is a statue of Leif Ericson.

Inside, the ceiling soars upward in a succession of graceful  arches that lead the eyes to a massive pipe organ.  (Note: Addition to bucket list, hearing this organ played.)

It seems that trolls are deep in the psyche of Icelandic culture.  So, it is not surprising that a stroll down Skölavördustígur Street from the kirke finds a troll for Pam to pose with.

Now, getting from our hotel on Þórunna Street to Hallgrimskirke requires navigating thru Hlemmur to find Berþórugata Street.  It is both a literal and a phonetic climb. That left us with the need for some simple nourishment.  So we found a sweet little bistro called C is for Cookies.  We found illy coffee and wonderful cookies.

Later that afternoon we met up with our tour leaders, Nikhil Bahl and Jóhann Óli Hilmarsson, and also our fellow travelers Steve, Rayner and Julie.  Our tour began with a drive around Reykjavik and ended up on a seaside golf course with a horde of nesting Arctic Terns that squabbled among themselves and protested at anyone passing nearby.  It was a great exercise in flight photography. We would see a lot more of these terns.

Our departure from Reykjavik northward to the Snæfellsnes Peninsula was at a sensible 9:30.  We found, at times, a harsh volcanic land with rough lava covered in places by little more than lichens and mosses.

Alternatively, there were lusher pockets where life was blooming.  Perhaps it was the presence of water?

We were to visit our first of many waterfalls before noon.  Kirkjufellsfoss is a nice beginning to the waterfalls of Iceland.  (Note:  ....foss is equal to ....falls in English)

The Icelandic Horse is another notable part of their history and culture, so we made the first of several stops to admire them.  One of the pluses of this Naturescapes tour was that our small size made it easy to make a quick roadside stop like this. A big bus could not do this. The cascade coming down the  mountain in the background is an indication of how frequently you find both falls and horses along the way.   This fellow was inquisitive, likely hoping for a piece of apple. He also showed a sense of humor, tho' we had no idea what he was laughing at.

Our drive skirted around the snow-capped Snæfellsjökull to a hotel in  Hellnar; we had time after dinner to visit a Kittiwake nesting cliff nearby. Pam got a beautiful photo of the nests on a sheer lava wall just above the sea.  There were birds sitting on eggs.

And, there were other birds with adorable chicks nestled beneath protected from the strong wind and cool temperatures.

The next morning called for an early breakfast and 7:25 departure for the drive to Stykkishólmur for the first ferry across Breiðafjörður Bay.  Lunch on the ferry, and we were in the Westfjords to expand our list of waterfalls with a really big one.

The Dynjandi River cascades from a high plateau. The distance from the top cascade to the foreground is deceptive.  The top cascade is reached by a steep trail climb of twenty minutes.  It is simply huge, throwing a cloud of heavy mist that defeated my attempts to keep the lens dry.

From Dynjandi, our travels took us on towards Breiðavíl and the greatly anticipated bird cliffs at Látrabjarg.  It will be Atlantic Puffins, Razorbills, and maybe an Arctic Fox.  That will be the next installment.

Paul

Following an Osprey Nest

Ospreys have made a dramatic return to the Finger Lakes where the fishing can be very good. They are a graceful bird that is fun to watch.

A favorite nest site is the top of an electric pole.   If the pole has double crossbars, Osprey can erect a pretty stable structure.  Last fall I was on a bicycle trip with friends along a local river with no thought to birding; I looked off the elevated road to find an Osprey nest in the field below.  The road's elevation put me right at eye level to a nest. Usually nests are too high to see into. I made a note in my calendar and went back in early March.  There was a lone male Osprey beginning to rebuild the nest with new sticks.

Through March, I returned to see if he had found a mate.  He would call "Pee-Pee-Pee-Pee-Pee" with added excitement if the passing bird was another Osprey.  He got no takers.  By April, I wondered if he lacked charisma and I checked less often. Returning on May 14, I spied a female in the nest.  Finally!

On May 26, I could finally see a tiny head in the nest of sticks. Below you can see the female deep in the nest just after the male brought in a small fish.  The chick's head is the little dark object at the female's bill.  How many chicks?  I could finally see a head with my binoculars.  This is getting interesting.

The pair's duties are pretty well divided.  She is on the nest nearly always, and he is fishing for the next meal or perched nearby on guard.   As I watched the nest, I wondered what would happen to the remains in the nest.  It was answered maybe fifteen minutes later when the male returned (without another catch), and within a few minutes carried the rest of the bullhead away.  They've got the details figured out.

 Two weeks later, the chicks were considerably larger.  And, I could see three.  Beautiful!

You may wonder how I can be so sure of which is male or female.  See below the two adults on the nest.  The female is always larger, and the size difference is pretty substantial. 

Observation tells me that the female runs the show.  When the chicks are hungry, and the male is perched nearby, she rather emphatically tells him to get fishing.  Yesterday, when he flew over the  nest with no catch, her calls were almost to the alarm volume.  His duty is catching a fish.

In the photo above, the male had just brought in a fish and she is  inspecting it.  (Note the chick just in front of her legs.)  She moved it to the right side of the nest.  That seems to be her feeding station.  Seen below, the male quickly leaves to resume his fishing.

Now it is time to feed the chicks.  It seemed to follow a pecking order, with the dominate chicks always getting fed first.  The third chick seemed to rarely get much.

Occasionally, the female does fly away.  Twice, it has been to return in only a few minutes with fresh nest material.  Yesterday, she returned with what looked like dead corn shucks.

I wish I could close with images of the young Ospreys testing their wings and taking a first flight, but my calendar commitments suggest I will miss those moments unless their timing goes a bit slow.  I wish them a successful first flight.  Hopefully they will survive the year to begin their own nesting.  I'll never tire of capturing an Osprey in flight.

Spring Highlights

For the nature photographer, spring is an onrushing torrent.  It has consumed me to where posting to a blog has become lost.  Time to make amends with my highlights (so far) of this season.

It has been a wet and sometimes cool spring, so the waterfalls have at times been roaring. Taughannock Falls has been emptying huge volumes into Cayuga Lake.  It is the tallest straight drop east of the Mississippi easily dwarfing the tiny observer at the base.

In March, some waterfowl return beginning with the diving ducks after the ice clears from streams were they can fish.  Here is a Common Merganser male that came streaking past me in the canal at Montour Falls.

As soon as there is duck weed or other aquatic plants to feed upon, the male Wood Ducks arrive.  They are so beautiful, and their chatter is a sure sign of spring.

 

Like the mergansers, the Great Blue Heron only needs open water and fish to appear. The adult scored a triple!.

Early spring also brings forth the wildflowers such as this Trout Lily, also commonly called Adder's Tongue.  It holds its petal tightly closed until a warm sun appears, so its pollen is only available when insect pollinators are active.

Mixed in with the early wildflowers are the first wave of warblers such as this colorful Palm Warbler.  It's a ground hugging insect eater that can frustrate the photographer seeking a clear view.

Another sure sign of spring are the Trillium.  Here is Trillium erectum, Purple Trillium.  It is also nicknamed Stinking Willy because it has a strong, foul odor helpful in attracting flying pollinators. 

The other Trillium is Trillium grandiflorum. Oddly, I find it typically more erect on the stalk than the one given the name T. erectum.  I love them both and have them in my flower beds for enjoyment.

A final favorite wildflower for me is the Wild Geranium.  This one caught my attention because of the alignment of the three blooms and the well-presented leaf. The challenge is often not finding the plant but locating a good setting and stature. This is actually portraiture.

A welcome migrant in spring is the Song Sparrow.  Wow, does it ever sing a lot.

The Pine Warbler has been my nemesis for years.  Why?  It seems to exclusively forage on the tiptop level of pine trees, tall ones. It is a major cause of "warbler neck" - which is a sore neck from looking nearly directly overhead for a long time trying to see a tiny bird.  Got smart this spring and found some short pine trees. Bingo!

Another brilliant warbler is the Yellow Warbler.  It, too, is a strong singer, and thankfully found closer to eye level.

In early May, marshes fill with male Red-winged Blackbirds.  They stake out territories with loud calls and aggressive behavior to the neighboring males. They can really get worked up into a frenzy.  Look at how the reddish-orange wing bars fluff up when he is excited.

As the weather warms, insects begin to appear and agile insect eaters follow naturally.  One with real character is the pugnacious Eastern Kingbird. They won't even yield to a Canada Goose.

A more colorful insect eater is the Yellow-throated Vireo. Like other vireos, it can be a steady voice in the woods.

A bird of the big woods is the Yellow-billed Cuckoo. Easily missed, it is usually quiet but does have a somewhat deep-throated song easily recognized to match its  name.  Isn't it distinctive?

Now, for my favorite image of the spring so far, here is an Indigo Bunting gracefully perched on a branch.

So, that is my spring to date.  I'm working on an Osprey nest, plus another pair of nesting birds with hopes that they yield distinctive images.   I would love to know which of these images is your favorite.

Best regards,

Paul Schmitt