Rebar and concrete: what Ashbridge’s Bay is made of

Canada geese on the lake side of Ashbridge’s Bay last week. © BCP 2010

When I walk along the boardwalk at Ashbridge’s Bay, or down one of the foot paths that follow the water’s edge, I sometimes forget that this little bit of land, which juts out into the lake like an arthritic finger, wasn’t always here. It’s a manmade peninsula constructed of so-called clean fill: mostly concrete mixed with rebar.

And there’s no getting around the fact that the recycled building materials are just plain ugly. Especially the rusted rebar.

If you have any doubts about this, the picture above should banish them. The other day I was walking along the path on the Lake Ontario side of the peninsula, when, peering between two pine trees, I noticed a gaggle of Canada geese (Branta canadensis) feeding by the shore. It was a restful, picturesque moment that I wanted to capture with my camera. On first glance, the scene looked almost pastoral. But when I framed up my picture, there, sticking up from the beach, was an angry-looking piece of rebar marring the view.

A spent dandelion head on the foot path last week. © BCP 2010

No sense getting worked up about it — without the concrete and the rebar, our little park wouldn’t exist. And neither would all the flora and fauna that make the park their home.

Speaking of the f and f, I came across this spent dandelion head on the same walk last week, and stopped to take its picture just because I liked the pinwheel shape it made.

Most of the time I — like most people — pass by common dandelions (Taraxacum officinale) because they are, well, so darn common. But when you stop to look at them closely, you see something special. Check out the dandelion’s complexity, its radial perfection.

Just an old weed to pass by without noticing? I think not.

© BCP 2010

Spotted sandpiper at Ashbridge’s Bay

A spotted sandpiper (Actitis macularia) wading at Ashbridge’s Bay last week. © BCP 2010

Weet, weet, weet. Weet, weet, weet…

I heard this little guy’s high-pitched whistle before I spotted him as I walked along the shore at Ashbridge’s Bay a few nights ago. (To hear an audio file of the sandpiper’s call — from the Cornell Lab of Ornithology —click here.)

The sun had almost set, and I was actually out to look for our swan pair, Penny and Tycho, and their two cygnets. I hadn’t seen them around for a few days and I was hoping nothing had happened to their babies. (P and T update: they’re still around in the Coatsworth Cut, mainly, with their two cygnets, which are growing incredibly fast!)

I foolishly (arrgh) was out for my evening ramble without my main camera — only had my point and shoot with me. Too bad, as I would have loved to get a much closer picture of this bird.

The spotted sandpiper, I understand, is the most widespread and best-known sandpiper in North America. (And unofficially, of course, easily the cutest.)

At any rate, I hope I to see this spotted sandpiper (Actitis macularia) again soon. When I have my long lens.

By the by….Does anyone know what the gloppy green gunk is that this little sandpiper is wading in? Is it an algal bloom? If so, is it harmful in these amounts? And if so, is there anything that can be done about it? Can anyone shed some light on this?

© BCP 2010

Red-winged blackbirds in High Park

“But you said I didn’t have to go to flight school today, Dad.” © BCP 2010

Thursday update:

Thanks to the folks who wrote to confirm that the little gaffer on the left is a very young red-winged blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus).

From Wednesday:

I’m hoping that an experienced birder can help me identify the bird on the left in this picture. I thought, after watching this pair of birds for some time, that the bird on the left was the female mate of the male red-wing on the right. After looking more closely at the photo, though, I’m wondering if this is a juvenile red-wing, since the beak colour seems wrong to be a an adult female.

Or is it something else entirely? These two birds seemed to me to have an ongoing relationship, leading me to initially think the small bird on the left was the male’s partner.

ID please?

Thanks in advance.

© BCP 2010

Purple martins return to High Park after a long absence

A male purple martin (Progne subis) arrives back home to his multi-level flat, Monday June 7 in High Park. © BCP 2010

Thanks to the Toronto Star for letting us know that there are two pairs of purple martins now in residence in an avian apartment complex situated on the south shore of Grenadier Pond in High Park.

An article (published in the paper Monday, online Sunday) by Patty Winsa, with photographs by the Toronto Star’s chief photographer (and extremely swell guy), Dave Cooper, lets us know that it has been eight years since purple martins have been in this park.

I had never seen a purple martin before, or at least not that I am aware of, so I decided to head out to High Park Monday to see if I could see an example of North America’s largest swallow for myself. (The purple martin weighs about 50 grams, compared to its rellies, the tree swallow, barn swallow and cliff swallow and other swallow species that weigh about 20 grams.)

Wasn’t hard to find… After I arrived in High Park, I just asked a guy who was carrying what looked like a 500-mm lens if he had been looking for the purple martins. He kindly pointed me in the right direction.

A few other curious people who came out to see these robin-sized swallows were rewarded with a sighting of mom and pop purple martin going in and out of their nest box.  In between visits to the box the martins put on dazzling displays of powerful swooping and soaring over the pond as they searched for the staple items of their diet: dragonflies, damselflies, butterflies, moths, grasshoppers, katydids, mayflies, cicadas, beetles, flies, wasps, midges, and flying ants, according to the purple martin organization.

I found out a lot of other fascinating facts about purple martins from that organization’s website. For example, martins are the earliest tropical-wintering migrant to return back to North America from their southern wintering grounds — Brazil.  For another, adult purple martins are said to be lithophagous, or stone eating. Here’s what the website says about that: The martin “frequently feeds its nestlings sand, shell, quartz, broken glass, and metal fragments for its grit and/or calcium content. This is a beneficial adaptation to aid in the mechanical breakdown of the large, hard-bodied, insects they are fed. In concert with the muscular contractions of the bird’s gizzard, grit acts as “teeth” for the “chewing up” of food.”

There’s lots more that’s interesting about these big swallows, and as I learn more, and hopefully get a better picture of one, I’ll pass it along.

Thank God I didn’t have to learn this lesson the hard way, eh? © BCP 2010

In the meantime, get a load of this sign I saw in many locations along the paths in High Park. I didn’t know that poison ivy was an issue in any of our city parks. I should have, clearly, but I didn’t. For that matter, I wouldn’t have been able to identify this plant as something I should exercise caution around. I had heard the warning “leaves of three, let it be” many times. But I never really connected that warning with a plant that is so darn big!

Glad I learned about this particular hazard of the natural world the easy way.

A male house sparrow leaves the nest box while the Mrs. stays to look after the nestlings in High Park this week. © BCP 2010

Addendum: As I read this post over, I realize that I forgot to mention that the purple martin pairs are co-habiting in this High Park nest box with at least one pair of house sparrows, (Passer domesticus).

Their apartment is on the first floor, middle door, should  you care to visit them. As a housewarming, perhaps they could use a door-knocker. Something along the lines of Owl’s in the Hundred Acre Wood?  (Don’t tell Eyeore.)

© BCP 2010

Wild roses at Ashbridge’s Bay

The wild roses (Rosa rugosa) blooming at Ashbridge’s now perfume the air with their enchanting scent. © BCP 2010

Really, can there be anything more beautiful than a newly opened wild rose on an early summer’s day? So lovely to look at, and even more entrancing to smell.

Walking along the path at the part that we call “the peanut” (at the tip of the peninsula that encloses the bay), a score of wild rose bushes have taken hold in the uncut underbrush. And they keep spreading every year. They are beautiful to look at, but even more lovely to smell. Their scent is intoxicating, transporting.

Next time you’re running, roller blading, dog walking, skate boarding or otherwise enjoying the path at our park, stop to smell the roses. Really.

© BCP 2010

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