Warming trend

All is calm on the lake side of Ashbridge's Bay today. A greyish day, but the sun did come out for a while.

Ah. Warmth from the sun! It felt positively mild today at the beach, and I was able to stay out for a much longer time than usual.  The afternoon started out grey, but as I walked along the path, the sun actually made an appearance and I swear there was enough blue in the sky to make a pair of pants.

Up until the past day or so, we had been experiencing a deep freeze. Temperatures hovering in the daytime around -10 C with windchills easily down to -18 C. Even colder overnight. Such cold temps allowed the Coatsworth Cut to completely freeze over, and the inner bay of Ashbridge’s to freeze over, too. Not surprising, then, that our swan friends, Penny and Tycho, were nowhere to be seen today. I can’t help but wonder where they go when this happens. My guess is they fly over to the Scarborough Bluffs, or perhaps the Leslie St. spit, but — of course! — I have no idea. Wherever they go, it can’t be too too far away, as they always come back as soon as there is open water. They don’t want to miss the free handouts at the Ashbridge’s Bay parking lot boat launch!

With no chance of seeing the swans, I wasn’t sure how my walk would turn out, but I had only gone a couple of hundred metres when I came upon a lovely sight. A single, perfect white feather caught in the bare winter branches of the shrubbery along the path. Here is the feather, below, shot with my macro lens.

A perfect feather from an unknown source.

My walk continued uneventfully around the inner bay, so I headed out to the point, where the open water starts, to see what interesting ducks might be there. Mostly mallards — they’re so reliable! — lots of ring-billed gulls and a couple of American mergansers. They always make me laugh. The females always look like they were getting their thinning hair done  at the beauty salon, when an incoming call told them their house was on fire, and out they dashed with their still-wet head of hair completely unstyled. The males, of course, are a different story. They have tremendous dignity with their fancy black-and-white suits and bright orange boots on. I’ll try to get a picture of Mergus merganser in the next few days, but even with a long lens they are very hard to get. If possible, they’re even more skittish than the gadwalls.

Along the lake side of the park loop, towards Woodbine Beach, I came across a tree whose fruit was glowing a warm russet colour as the sun came out for a few minutes. A quick perusal of my tree books makes me think these are the fruit of the common alder, Alnus glutinosa. If anyone knows for sure, please let me know.

As  you can see from the picture, this tree is monoecious — that is, it has male and female flowers on the same plant. The long, thin structures are the male catkins, and the shorter woody parts that look superficially like tiny pine cones are last year’s female catkins. Birch trees are another native plant that are monoecious.

Male and female catkins of common alder, I think.

As I was heading back to the parking lot I took a closer look at the path I was walking on. Just a bunch of old pine cones, at first glance. At second glance, a beautiful still life.

© BCP 2010

January thaw

Gulls on some floating ice in the Coatsworth Cut ©BCP 2010

Mirabile dictu! Warm enough today to actually venture more than 100 feet from the nearest hot chocolate emporium. With temperatures hovering around –10 C in the past few weeks — and, of course, wind chills making it seem another 10 degrees or so colder — it was not fit for man or beast…In fact, it has been so cold the only men outside were those that absolutely HAD to take their beasts out for nature’s call.

A few days ago, when we were still in the early January deep freeze, I ventured as far as the AB parking lot, and walked out to the tips of the boat launch area. The wind was whipping at me so hard I couldn’t see — it caused tears to pour down my face. Forget about taking any photos. My eyes were so wet I could barely see the scene, let alone my camera. After saying hello to a few of my feathered friends, I gave up and hustled back to my car and thence home to warm up.

But today it was a different story. The deep puddles in the parking lot and boat launch piers made for wet walking, but were welcome anyway.  A warming trend. Hurray! And this one long enough to actually make a difference. Today I was actually able to take a few shots before my freezing fingers made depressing the shutter button an impossibility.

There was lots to see. My first delight was seeing a pair of hooded mergansers quite far out in the Coatsworth Cut.

Screaming, wheeling ring-billed gulls looking for their free lunch

There was the usual flurry of herring gulls, of course, shrieking, squawking and skydiving over the parking lot as a well-meaning but misdirected woman proceeded to completely ignore the signs (not more than 20 feet away from her, warning visitors to not feed the birds. She had gone to the local bread factory store and purchased a carload of hot dog buns to feed them.

Thanks to the January thaw, the solid sheet of ice that had covered most of the Cut has broken up, leaving a scattering of ice floes drifting in the glittering water. Some lazy gulls took up residence on one such ice carpet near the piers (top photo) and further out, mallards had a rest on the ice, too.

Back at the boat launch, the mallard ducks were happy to get in on the free provisions being provided by the woman. Even our swans, Penny and Tycho, glided in to get some bread.

But the afternoon held a surprise. Besides the usual hundreds of mallards, I saw a couple of American black ducks (Anas rubripes), which are very close relatives of mallards (Anas platyrhynchos). In countless walks at the bay I have only seen a few black ducks. Perhaps I haven’t been looking closely enough.

The black ducks seem to have very different personalities than their mallard cousins. They’re so timid compared to the forthright and brazen mallards! They seem to be the poor drab wallflowers at the duck dance.

Mean mallards and the underduck

I kept my eye on one black duck that kept losing out in the feeding frenzy. Just when he got close to a chunk of bread, a bunch of mallards would muscle him out of the way, even nipping at him to get him to drop the bread. In the photo above you can see two males and one female mallard pecking at the black duck. It looks like the drake at top right was successful in winning the bread. Guess the timid black duck is Ashbridge’s new underduck.

Further out in the Coatsworth Cut, the bay ducks ignored the commotion of the wheeling, screeching gulls fighting for the free meal. I saw goldeneyes, the hooded merganser pair previously mentioned, long tails, buffies, American mergansers and a huge throng of mostly ring-billed gulls sitting out on the ice floes.

Another day of fine feathered-friend watching. I hope it stays mild for a few days more!

©BCP 2010



First snow fall, New Year’s Day

Goldenrod in early winter garb

I took this picture on January 1. Went out for a short walk in the lightly falling snow after our New Year’s brunch at the Four Seasons in Yorkville. About as urban an experience as you can get here in the Big Smoke.

After I got home, I grabbed my camera, some plastic bags to cover my gear with in case it started to precipitate more heavily, and headed to the bay. It was a quite grey, as you can see from the pictures.

I stopped along the path of Dog Bay to appreciate the feathery shapes of the golden rod (Solidago canadensis) that pokes out between the huge boulders there. The dried flower heads adorned with little puffs of snow reminded me of ballerinas in white tutus doing graceful arabesques.

Fat flakes of snow on the sea buckthorn

Also along the path, I found a favourite of the cardinals that make their home here. The sea buckthorn, (Hippophae rhamnoides) always a reliable spot of colour on even the dreariest day, keeps its berries right through winter — a gift to the cardinals and other birds, no doubt. Fat flakes of snow clung to the berries and their wickedly sharp thorns. I’ll write more on the sea buckthorn later. It’s a fascinating plant with an intriguing natural history and long association with man.

A beautiful walk today. Lightly falling snow. A hush all around.  What a perfect start to the new year.

©BCP 2010


Penny and Tycho plus eight

Here are “our beauties,” as my friend Egon calls the Ashbridge’s Bay swan pair, out on a perfect June day with their eight babies. The cygnets were born, I think, on June 7th, so here they are still VERY young! Only five days old. . . Six at the very most. You can see that Mom (I think of her as the other Octomom) and Dad keep feeding while the cygnets stay extremely close by. There’s a good reason for this — so many hazards to the health and safety of the young swans. By the end of July, there were only three of the original eight cygnets left. Five had been lost to — who knows? My guess is mainly predation. Raccoons? Off-leash dogs? Giant killer fish in the bay? A hungry raptor looking for easy pickin’s?  All of the above?

It seemed very sad at the time, but with the benefit of perspective that only time can give, we have to remember that this is Ma Nature’s way. It was exactly the same situation last year. Eight babies, three cygnets survived to adult size and fledged last fall. We don’t cry for all the maple keys that fall and fail to root, do we? But somehow the grand plan seems flawed when it comes to the baby birds and squirrels and adorable little raccoon pups. . . I have a dear friend who told me just last week that she had given up believing in God because she thinks God goofed when it comes to the whole predator/prey issue. She can’t stand the dog-eat-dog (or wolf-eat-deer) system. Thinks there has to be a better way.

At any rate, we are in no position to change it, no matter what we believe. So in the meantime, we can look at all eight lovely cygnets and marvel at their perfection….even if their dwelling on this Earth is all too short.

Feel free to click on the movie to play it. It’s only a minute long. Cheers!

©BCP 2010

The great wheel turns

The first robin of spring checks out the inner bay -- what a welcome sight!

What an interesting few days we have had at the bay. Yesterday the cormorants returned. Monday they weren’t there, Tuesday they were. One day, they just magically show up — just like that. Back from wherever they spent their winters. Northern Mexico, Alabama, Georgia and Mississippi, it looks like, if I’m reading my Smithsonian handbook correctly.

The double-crested cormorants are great fun to watch, but they do engender a great deal of controversy. Lots of folks would like to see their numbers controlled — i.e. culled — because of the damage they do to the trees in their nesting grounds out on the Leslie St. Spit. It’s the guano, you know.

While the robins have been back for two to three weeks — see above, Mr. Robin checking out the view — the song sparrows have just returned in the past two or three days from their winter sojourn in the southern U.S. How happy we are to have them back, singing as they do so brilliantly from every treetop.

And I was completely wrong to have ever wondered about the gadwalls. There are many, many pairs of them around. Still as skittish and shy as ever. At least six pairs of scaups could be seen today in the part of the Coatsworth Cut closest to Lakeshore Blvd. Couldn’t get very close to them, either. When you try to move closer, they just take off farther into the lake. Oh well. They’re still lovely to behold from a distance.

And what of our two swan friends? I thought for a while today that Tycho had started his nest in a new spot. A spot that I have to say looks to be quite dangerous. A spot where a single offleash dog could mean a tragedy for our swans or their babies. I hope I was wrong and that Tycho goes back to his old spot for nest building, safely away from people and their pets.

I guess we’ll see soon enough.

Isn’t spring grand? The great wheel turns and the cycle starts again.

©BCP 2010


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