…from the Holiday Otter and his Magical Hose of Joy.

In celebration of my friend Kate seeing Black-bellied whistling ducks in New Orleans, here is a Black-bellied whistling duck Spot the Bird.

The photo was taken in a coastal wetland in the state of Veracruz, Mexico, in Ocotber of 2008. I was scanning the greenery with binx when I spotted the ducks — I suspect I would never have seen them with the naked eye — and took the picture, hoping it would come out just like this: a photo with birds that are virtually invisible, except for their extraordinary bill color. (If you don’t know what a BBWD’s bill color is, click on the link above to Kate’s photo to make the search easier.) I’ll post a photo key later, but in the meantime, don’t forget to click to enlarge. By the way, the head count is three ducks, as far as I can tell.

It’s not a reindeer, and it doesn’t have a red nose.  But, a yule mule deer licking its nose with a pink tongue is as close as I could get…

Here’s wishing everyone a Merry Christmas anyhow!

(Muledeer in Hualapai Mountains, AZ; photo by E.Shock)

Along the Verde River in the Yavapai Indian Nation, a Bald eagle sits low in the field of view, framed by a dramatic snag, golden cottonwood foliage, and saguaro and brush-covered hills behind.  Out of sight, the river flows to the right, between the eagle and the saguaros in the background.

Vignetting, distortion, noise, and other fatal photo flaws result in moody painterly effects created by distance, heat, and the multiple lenses of digiscoping. (Photo A.Shock; no “artistic” Photoshop filters used)

The eagle’s own view of me taking the photo would likely have been sharper than this image.

A looming Killdeer (Charadrius vociferus) casts a long shadow in the late afternoon sun, standing on a bermed farm road east of Phoenix (photo A.Shock).  Despite its scientific name, it was being silent, and not vociferus at all.  And despite its common name, ungulates don’t have to worry, but you invertebrates? — quake in your lowly, mud-coated exoskeletons.

…it’s hard to hide in bright, falling foliage if you’re a flying tiger…

Here’s one of a pair of Great Horned Owls we happened upon yesterday in a cottonwood grove along the Verde River east of the Phoenix metro area.  We were scouting for Tuesday’s official Christmas Bird Count of the Rio Verde area, and accidentally flushed the pair from their day-roost just before midday.

The owls flew a short distance then resettled, each in a spot they felt was secure.  One hid well, disappearing from view, but the other became a shadowy shape in golden foliage.

Great horned owl (Photo A.Shock) >>

It evidently felt sufficiently concealed, since it didn’t fly again, despite our nearness and a raven and a cooper’s hawk hassling it.  Look carefully — even through the screening leaves, you can pick out the owliness of its outline: a solid, chunky form with wispy cranial tufts. “Stink eye” — no one likes their nap interrupted — can be deduced, but not actually discerned in the photo.

I’ve classed this as a Spot the Bird, of sorts, just because.