Even back then, a bridge camera was not my first choice. I had heard all about the limitations of their tiny sensors, especially when it came to dynamic range and dark, cloudy days. Besides, I was perfectly happy with the Canon 77d. I couldn’t afford Canon’s new flagship, the wildly popular 90d, but lucky for me, they had stuffed most of the 90d technology into a cheap plastic body and called it the 77d, which made things more affordable for us poor folk. Anyway, I got some good stuff from it, especially when paired with the 100-400 f/4.5 – 5.6 USM.



But then one day in July an off-duty sheriff decided that the speed limit in the redneck town of Sodus was way too slow for him. While passing the offending vehicle, Sheriff Joe plowed head-on into me, toppling my car into a ditch and sending camera, lens, tripod, lunch, and me flying. I survived. The electronics didn’t. But after some quiet convincing by my barracuda lawyer, Sheriff Joe reimbursed me for everything (except the lunch) and as a courtesy threw in enough extra cash to pay off my mortgage.
Well, my lawyer wasn’t really a barracuda. He was just a nice, older man with two witnesses, one who wondered if the sheriff was trying to qualify for the Indy 500 and the other who wasn’t surprised because the sheriff had gone “flying” past him moments earlier.
So, I made do with a series of cheap used cameras, including that wonderful gifted gray-market Canon 1100d that I absolutely adored. Once discharged from the ICU, I collected a pocketful of Sheriff Joe’s cash and stopped at the bank before heading to Best Buy. I had been eyeing Sony’s new mirrorless, the A6000, for the past few months.



I liked it. It was a nice, lightweight camera with an APS-C sensor, just a little larger than what I would soon find in Olympus gear. I did get some good results, but the build quality was atrocious. It was serviced three times in six months. After the last repair, I traded it in and started looking at bridge cameras.
Why bridge cameras? Because I don’t know. I tried a few of them before I settled on the Sony bridge.


I hated Nikon’s p1000. It had an astonishing focal length — more like a small telescope than a camera — but it was essentially unusable. At full extension the center of gravity moved away from the camera body and landed somewhere in the middle of the extended lens barrel, where you can’t place a tripod collar. This made it impossible to mount unless the tripod was counterbalanced with a bag full of rocks. Even so, the camera was so out of balance that it shook terribly, even when using a remote. And once you managed the set-up you had to shoot real quick, because the lens retraction time was always-always-always less than the time it took to properly compose and expose the shot. I *could* get decent shots — but only if I didn’t extend the lens beyond 518mm.
C’mon now, what good is having a camera with an amazing focal length if you can use only half of it?




Beautiful downtown Clyde, NY — don’t blink, or you’ll miss it.
I was still avoiding the world of raw but knew I would eventually succumb, so my next choice was the Sony RX10iv. The photofolks still frowned, but who cares, it has a nice, lightweight build, a 1″ sensor, and yeah, Sony color science! And it didn’t fall apart like the a6000 did. In fact, I still have it today along with some macro lenses I picked up while visiting in San Francisco.





Go Orange!
Which bring us to Part II, Cameras I Have Known: Olympus.
(published February 6, 2026)
I started with the EM10 beginning in late 2019, during my early days. Although this camera had raw capabilities, I didn’t bother with raw files back then. The jpgs it produced were. . .not bad, really. Besides, I dreaded postprocessing, which I knew nothing about. Besides, it was something (I thought) jpgs didn’t need, not when my Olympus did most of the work for me.


By 2021 I had progressed rapidly from the EM-10 to an EM5, then to an EM1iii and finally to the pièce de résistance, the EM1x (obviously, this was before 2021, when JIP rebranded OM Systems as OM Digital Solutions).

I loved anything that fell out of my Olympus gear, but I loved the EM1x the best — even when it was just a jpg. Especially when it was just a jpg — because the Olympus color science is quite remarkable, maybe even better than Sony. Plus, the gear was light, easy to handle, and had IBIS to die for. Robin Wong, an Olympus ambassador at the time, was my constant YouTube companion, showing me the capabilities of the Olympus EM line and explaining how M4/3 got such a bad rap.

I believed every word he said. And now that I have a little more experience with the Big Three, I still believe every word he said.


Those early days were full of innocent fun. If it stayed still, I shot it. If the light sucked, a stick was in the way, or the animal presented its butt — I shot it anyway. I was in awe of these curious technical gadgets that produced such wonder, and I was thrilled when my photos resulted in a decent and recognizable subject.




These really aren’t bad photos! But I wanted to improve, so I joined the Rochester NY Meet-Up group. . .which is where *real* photographers gathered once a month to talk to each other. I did a whole lot of listening but wasn’t really allowed to talk much. I did learn a few things, but the biggest lesson I learned was that these *real* photographers scoffed at my gear, firmly believing the shameful but unwarranted reputation of micro 4/3. They shook their heads and predicted I would never amount to much unless I upgraded to something else.

It took a while to realize that the cruel barrage would continue — some of it deserved, and some not-so-much — as long as I clung to Olympus Systems. That’s when I left the group — it was easier to let go of a bunch of egotistical grumpy old men (and a few grumpy old women) than it was to let go of my precious Olympus cameras and lenses.

In retrospect, the real problem was probably that none of them had any time or patience for a noob.

I suppose they would probably all be very happy to know that, on the half-trusted advice from a short-term mentor, I eventually traded it all in for some Nikon stuff (on a very sad day in 2022. . .).


Now that I have a little experience, I am seriously thinking about getting re-acquainted with the Olympus, perhaps an EM1ii paired with that glorious 100-400 lens. Imagine what they can do! now that I know their capabilities.

(published February 6, 2026)
It’s winter in the western/northern Finger Lakes region of New York, which means there’s not much activity out here.

So, I spent a few minutes today looking at all my blog posts. . .okay, more like a couple of hours. Some of my photos downright embarrass me! A few others are so good I can’t believe they’re mine. Most, though, are mediocre (according to REAL photographers), but who cares, I see pleasure and improvement over the years, and that is very satisfying. 🙂
As I ponder, I regret some of the gear choices I have made. I started with some inexpensive Canon gear and then downsized (by necessity) to a couple of older, gray-market gifts. I ended up with a seven-year-old, inexpensive, gifted gray-market Canon. . .hey, don’t let anyone tell you how bad these products are! I got some pretty good shots, especially from my 1100d, before they all passed, one by one, into the 18% grey stratosphere far above, the final resting place of all good cameras once their time on earth is done.

I fooled around with a few different brands for a while, trying to find the one with the best results. As I look back, I think I miss my Olympic gear the most. Loved the color science, the IBIS, the lenses, the weight (or lack thereof), but was convinced by a former mentor to ditch it in favor of Nikon DSLRs (the 850 and the 500). I’m now up to the Z9 and saving for a good Z distance lens. . .but I might try to find some lightly used Olympic stuff, to see if I reallyreallyREALLY like it or if I’m just being nostalgic.





These photos could use some improvements, I know, but considering that they all fell out of the camera as untouched jpgs, they really aren’t that bad. What I find really curious, though, is the noise factor — none were edited for noise (or anything else other than an occasional crop), but noise doesn’t to be much of a problem with the small-sensor Olympus and Panasonics. Huh?
Anyway, on the advice of that former mentor, I sold all these cameras, including my Olympus EMx-1 (wahhh) and settled on the Nikon d500 and d800 with a 200-500 lens. Later on I added a Z9 and a 500 PF prime with an FTZ adapter and 1.4 extender (that was back when I had some money!). Under his tutelage I learned how to make simple corrective edits with ACR, but that didn’t help most of my photos. A good number were best treated by <delete>, and I didn’t need anyone to show me how to use THAT.
Nonetheless, I remain determined to improve my technique — that’s an achievable goal, right? even for a short, round, opinionated old lady.
So, I ditched the mentor, who had outlived his usefulness, and moved on up to the cheap self-education available on You-Tube 24/7.
I really didn’t get significantly better photos, though, despite wasting a lot of time (and brain cells) worshipping YouTube’s guru-du-jour. Oh, these guys are well known among Nikon and Canon crowds, so it’s really no secret who they are. They preach long and hard — and they make a lot of noise and a lot of money — but all I learned from them were some specialty terms and how to select (what I thought were) the best lessons from all the conflicting advice. And I still returned from the field with a camera full of soft, flat photos.
Ewwwww.
But then I learned something astonishing. It struck me one day like a snowball thrown by a giggling, pimply-faced 14-year-old: YouTube lessons work best when unlearned. I discovered this after finding a Facebook group called Nikon Teaching Photography. The admin, Bob Scola, has a large following and an even larger online volume of stellar videos, explaining all things Nikon, on a site called EyeSo100. You can check them out here:
https://www.eyeso100.com/spaces/10626684/content
and for $100 a year (or $10 monthly payments for us poor folks) it, too, can all be yours. (Actually, I’ve wasted more money at McDonald’s, where I could sit undisturbed, shaking my head while previewing and deleting the day’s photos. . .)
My first Bob Scola lesson was removing “back button focus” from the list of sainted photography practices endorsed by You-Tube deity. Because, really — what does it actually do, other than moving shutter button functions elsewhere? Despite all the worship, it does exactly what The Temptations told us back in 1969 when they sang about “war, humph, good God, y’all, what is it good for” (answer: “absolutely nuthin! (say it again). . .) In fact, “[it’s] nuthin’ but a heartbreaker[!]” But I suppose it can be quite entertaining if reassigning camera button functions amuses you — and, if it does, congratulations! You are now part of a cult!

And thus began my foray into real photography education.
(HINT: If you do join Nikon Teaching Photography, don’t even try to defend BBF. Just go watch the EyeSo100 video, which clearly debunks all the hype. Because just a few days ago someone got blocked for ignoring the video and politely arguing on its behalf, just sayin.)
I found Bob after an outing where I had captured a stunning composition of two young foxes playing on some railroad tracks. . .until an oncoming mile-long freighter sent us all running. Once safely seated in the car, I eagerly opened <preview> — and found that every single photo was just awful. . .I was horrified! Every, Single. One. They all looked great on the microscopic camera screen, but at 100% they were unbelievably bad — soft focus, poor exposure, glaring white areas — despite checking all the boxes on the You-Tube checklist — or so I thought:
- I had carefully metered and exposure-compensated for good exposure
- I had adjusted my position to achieve an angle that avoided direct harsh light
- I had captured adorable images of frisky little foxes jumping around using the Rule of Thirds
- I had steadied the camera, lens, and me against the side of the car and used VR to prevent movement and camera shake
- I had spot-metered (actually, highlight-metered) the white areas to avoid blow-out
- I had used a wide aperture to get the best bokeh and a fast shutter to lessen harsh light and capture any unexpected action
. . .and none of it worked. These photos punched me in the gut every time I looked at them.

Desperate to salvage at least one of them (I felt the composition was that good), I sought advice from a “beginner’s” FB group that I had found (where else but) on YouTube.
Big mistake. It was a public group whose resident exclusionary experts offered supercilious advice gathered from the most esoteric parts of the 300-page Nikon manual. But it all translated into one thing: “Sucks to be you but not to be me.” All I got from them was embarrassed, especially when the admin featured my horrendous photo AND MY NAME! (without my permission) on his world-wide YouTube channel as proof that some photographers are so lousy they shouldn’t even waste their time. Or his.
Speaking of wasting time, he wondered out loud why I didn’t correct the slightly-off horizon. Dude, what for? Why would I bother with a one-degree horizon correction on a photo that clearly could not be salvaged?
(I’d tell you HIS name, but I hate him, so all I will say is that, should you wish to be insulted (free of charge!), you can find him on YT and FB as “Photography Explained.” I would propose a more appropriate title, something along the line of “Photography Explained by Arrogant Dummies,” but what do I know.)
Anyway
After suffering a severe existential meltdown (complete with tears), I blocked the arrogant Professor Explained along with several of his nastiest FB cohorts. I then contemplated selling all my gear at bargain prices — why not, I was hopeless! — but after a couple of weeks I had recovered enough composure to try just. one. more. time — and that’s when I found Bob Scola. No shame! No bragging! No snarky comments!” Just good, solid, workable advice explained in a way that even *I* can understand.
And it really helped! I found features on my cameras that I never knew existed, which allowed me to better utilize my gear. I learned new and effective techniques that were easily replicated and produced the predicted results. But most of all, I regained my confidence, which allowed me to remand Photography Explained to the lowest level of the electronic basement, where all public groups, world-wide YT channels, and their pompous keyboard elitists spend their days impressing their friends and confounding their enemies and spend their nights — well, I don’t want to know what they spend their nights doing.

So, I decided to test my new knowledge and took a ride out to my favorite-ist dirt road in Savannah, NY, where I had originally found the foxes but now hoped to find a few hardy winter birds. Maybe my photos won’t be perfect, but at least now I will understand why and will be able to take the necessary steps toward improvement.
The first lifeform I found was this inquisitive squirrel. A little soft, but better soft than no shot at all (the tree bark, though, is nice and sharp — I mean, it’s not like I didn’t have the focus box squarely on his eye, but on the z9 it has a way of jumping around at the last nanosecond).

There were sparrows galore, all feasting on the dirt-road grit. Of course they scattered, despite my sneaky attempts to keep my distance.

In fact, I was so intent on (visually) capturing a few more tree sparrows that I nearly missed this guy, watching the show from his (her?) perch high above the fray.

I waited about 30 minutes for him to take off, but no go. He did, however, have an itch. Or maybe he was looking for his keys:

Eh, the most exciting thing I could catch was a sudden spook, which caused a rapid spin-around that almost dislodged the poor thing:

The Merlin app thought it heard a screech owl, so I was off to find it. No luck, but I did find a heap of trumpeter swans, a bunch of gulls, and a variety of geese hanging out in the mucklands.

Savannah’s mucklands are a unique geophysical attribute resulting from Seneca River overflows, which happen whenever wet weather will allow (the water table is quite high in this area and the river hasn’t been dredged for decades). The town is quite proud of this feature — they even have a road named Muckland Road (…as well as another named simply “No. 39.” Gotta luv beautiful downtown Savannah!). During spring migration the mucklands provide a resting place for ducks, geese (sometimes even a flock or two of snow geese), and swans. They are safe from hunters here, because these lands are also farmlands whose harvest litter attracts foraging birds and other animals; therefore, hunting is prohibited by local, state, and federal regulations.
The crows were not welcome in the mucklands, but they amused themselves by annoying each other while foraging in the adjacent icy marsh.

Off to the B&H site to check out some Olympus prices!
(published January 17, 2026)
I had a choice this year. I could spend Thanksgiving with my camera at the soggy bog.

Or I could force my way into the ubiquitous family dinner, which would, of course, require an additional wardrobe purchase.

(Is this a trick question?)
The choice was a no-brainer.
Armed with my camera, lenses, and a lunch consisting of a Pink Lady apple, a piece of homemade cheesecake, and a bottle of Ice carbonated beverage, I headed towards the soggy bog.
And look what I found on the way!

Upon arriving at the bog, I found that *someone* had just had their dinner. . .

. . .and by now were probably lounging at home, watching the Eagles game

This furry friend was still at the table.

Others were resting after a long search for their slippery, wiggly holiday dinner:

There were LOTS of gulls here today.

There were also lots of Canada geese — what would western NY be without flocks of Canada geese?

Some of the residents were just hanging around, keeping an eye on things (there are actually two of these great blue herons who chose to remain here rather than migrate south.

Today I decided to travel down a nearby wooded dirt road leading to some soybean fields. Glad I did, because look what I found!
A hungry downy woodpecker tapping the tree for insects

A few onlookers. . .


The ducks, however, had had enough. and decided to get a head start on the incoming snowstorm:

Photographers generally avoid “bird on a stick” photos, considering them dull and uninteresting. They would never win a prize at a contest.

There is absolutely no hope for me. None of these photos would win a prize because none of them exhibit the technical quality and artistic talent required by a contest winner — well, the beavers had some talent, but they’re not photographers so they don’t count. In any event, the mundanity I managed to capture with my camera is more valuable to me than an honorable mention in some contest. It serves as a pleasant reminder of a Thanksgiving holiday spent in solitude and quiet reflection without the self-doubt, anxiety, and stress of spending it with a bunch of squabbling, hypercritical family members.
I hope their holiday went as well as mine.
(published November 30, 2025)
Is THIS why the managers at Montezuma National Wildlife Refuge drain the marshes every spring? To reduce them to mudflats that lie fallow over the summer? And then flood them in late summer/early fall? To lure large quantities of ducks to the refuge with acres of duck-friendly vegetation? Just in time for fall migration?
Well, yes, that is what they tell us.
But what they don’t tell us is that fall migration coincides nicely with New York’s duck-hunting season. Because we aren’t supposed to know that they lure both ducks and duck hunters to the refuge with this clever plan.
This guy was parked on Wildlife Drive on Sunday, November 9, 2025, even though the Drive remains open to the public until December 1. It is my understanding that public access is why duck hunting is never allowed on Wildlife Drive. . .but apparently I understand wrong. Evidently it’s allowed as long as no one from the Refuge staff is looking.

This entire debacle is unnecessary. While drainage does “refresh the marsh,” such refreshment is required only on those occasions when the weather cycle in this region of NY fails to provide natural drought –which it does on a more-or-less 5-7 year cycle. But even on those rare occasions when nature fails and the water table must be lowered, it needn’t be downdrained (drained dry down to mudflats) nor should it be drained within the 5-7 year cycle. In fact, too-frequent drainage, whether induced or natural, hastens the degradation of emergent wetlands, which will convert to a trees-and-shrubs environment in about 10 years, sometimes in as little as 2-3 — check elsewhere on this blog where I’ve written about the current conditions of Knox-Marcellus Marsh, the result of a prior failed “marsh improvement” endeavor conducted jointly by MNWR and Ducks Unlimited (don’t believe me? it’s engraved on a brass plaque stuck to the boulder in the parking area).
I suspect that this truck and its owner are evidence that the varied explanations MNWR offers for its periodic destruction of the food web, necessary to maintain the exclusionary waterfowl population they desire, are simply “alternate facts” designed to convince us that killing off the resident water dwellers and driving away dependent wildlife each (or nearly each) spring serves some kind of lofty environmental purpose. . .and that hunting is a byproduct of negligible importance.
It doesn’t (when it’s overused) and it isn’t (especially if you’re a duck).
This year’s “simulated drought” coincided with the natural one that affected central New York, so the refill, then, was much shallower than expected. A good thing for ducks, because they are less of a target when hidden in the proliferative unsubmerged vegetation. . .but that didn’t stop this guy. He was going to duck-hunt anyway.
According to one MNWR rep I recently spoke to, this year’s drainage was also intended to control invasive species, specifically Invasive phragmites (a type of opportunistic reed grass). That, too, was an epic fail — although I suppose there could be a marsh in there somewhere behind this sign. Maybe they’ll find it once the phrag grass is “controlled” but how many destructive drawdowns will it take?


Anyway, this year’s politics worked against quid pro quo MNWR offered to Ducks Unlimited. Mike (“The Little”) Johnson’s House shutdown and the bumbling, ineffective, and corrupt government that produced it had inadvertently protected the wetlands from further harm by not paying salaries and thus keeping the marsh managers away from the dike controls. . .a short-lived benefit of the BBB <sigh>.
Their return won’t stop me, though, from trying to enjoy the little bits of wildlife that survived the destructive and disastrous summer of 2025:
Rarely do we find a feral muscovy duck in the wetlands, but I found one foraging disturbance-free at the Sandhill Crane Unit, where marsh managers are absent and water levels are therefore much better than those at Seneca Falls.


Until the hunters arrived, that is.

FWIW, hunting IS permitted on the PRIVATE LAND bordering the Sandhill Crane Unit, but it is NOT permitted on SCU land or in its marsh. Both the land and the marsh belong to the MNWR complex and are managed (and apparently ignored) by the cooperative efforts of the New York Department of Environmental Protection and the US Fish and Wildlife Service. But I found my own way to enforce the regulations. Since sound carries so easily over water, I had some good fun turning my radio up all the way and occasionally sounding the horn. . .did this several times while driving up and down the access road until either the ducks or the hunters scattered.

It’s one thing to hunt ducks — but it’s unnecessarily cruel to hunt ducks at a refuge. . .after luring them there with acres of bait. . .(and in this case a whirl-a-gig painted like a Canada goose). . .
In any event, wildlife aren’t stupid. They know there are safer habitats elsewhere.


By the way, INWR itself doesn’t financially partner with Ducks Unlimited. Maybe that’s why they don’t bother to artificially increase their duck population. By not tampering with the natural food web, INWR attracts the full gamut of wildlife, not just ducks — something that apparently conflicts with the MNWR business plan.


Hoping for better days next spring! Unfortunately, we’re stuck with this until waterfowl season ends.
(published November 9, 2025)
+ bridge camera, Coots, Crane, Ducks, eagles, Fish, gear, Geese, grebes, heron, Migration, mirrorless, Montezuma, muskrat, natural, swans, Uncategorized
Carnage Continued: Montezuma National Wildlife…Place
Apparently little has changed since 2017, when the Montezuma National Wildlife Refuge thought it might be a good idea to devote each spring and summer to cultivating duck-friendly vegetation, hoping to attract large numbers of the waterfowl during the fall migration. Sounds good on paper perhaps, but in practice this creates a wildlife nightmare. In order to provide sufficient acreage for their duck-food garden, the wetlands are drained down to mudflats, killing off the water-dwelling fish, amphibians, and reptiles in the process. With the aquatic food chain destroyed, the food web collapses, and both the migratory and resident wildlife that depend on on it are driven away. The number of ducks lured to the refuge by this tactic will vary by year, but those that do show up arrive just in time for New York’s duck-hunting season.
I wrote about this in some detail back in 2021 and despite the uproar it created, MNWR continues their frequent duck-food gardening; however, now they attempt to minimize the backlash with a forewarning posted to their page on the USFWS website. Here we are told that draining the wetlands down to mudflats is not cruel, it’s a harmless “draw down” that “refreshes the marsh.” This is “done every 5-7 years” (despite my personal observation of its annual occurrence for the most part of the past 7). “We only drain one large pool at a time in order to maintain habitat for migratory birds and other wildlife.” Finally, “[w]hile it may inconvenience wildlife observation opportunities,” the animals are never really in danger because “we have over 10,000 acres and neighboring state land also has about 10,000 acres,” where “[w]ildlife will find suitable habitat” (not an option, though, for the animals they kill as the marshes are “refreshed”).
Apparently the author of that online blurb lies like a Republican press secretary when s/he claims that “drawdown[s]”. . .maintain habitat for migratory birds and other wildlife.” If that were true, there would be no lost “observation opportunities,” no necessity for wildlife to “find suitable habitat” elsewhere, no dead animals, and no contradictory photos (below). And, while they admit to “only drain[ing] one large pool at a time,” what they don’t admit is that there is only ONE “large pool” to drain. Full stop. How do you sequentially drain a single large pool?
But, just like with the press secretary, logic isn’t a deterrent, it’s simply a momentary unpleasantness that disappears after a single vigorous denial.
Anyway, I respectfully call bullshit on that entire waste of bandwidth. The “inconvenience [to] wildlife observation opportunities” pales in comparison to the widespread destruction that occurs whenever the water table is “drawn down” to zero. Nobody with a brain or decent vision (or a sense of smell) believes that “habitat for migratory birds and other wildlife” is “maintain[ed]” when all they see is a lifeless expanse of mud littered with fish and turtle carcasses.
If MNWR limits drawdowns to once “every 5-7 years,” then my eyes (and nose) cannot be trusted. I began visiting Montezuma in 2017, when there was appreciable water in all the pools. Not so in 2018, when I witnessed my first (and likely their eleventy-seventh) drainage. Had MNWR noticed, in this area of the northeast US there is a natural drought cycle that recurs every 5-7 years, making their “5-7 year schedule” redundant and mostly unnecessary. In any event, this present (2025) episode of no water — which is taking place in the middle of a natural drought — is disturbing. The fact that MNWR has induced additional droughts within that “5-7 year schedule” is even more disturbing.
Whenever I ask about the dried-up marshes, the explanations vary from “to simulate drought” (yearly?) to “to control the invasive carp” (which are controlled by the canal gate) to “the canal gate needs repair” (this one I’ll give them — once) and finally “we need vegetation to feed the ducks” (ding ding ding, we have a winner, folks!). Just a couple of weeks ago, a USFWS employee added another reason, “to control the phrag[mites] grass.” A curious response, since lowering the water table to zero created acres of wet and wasted mudflats upon which phragmites grass thrives. Check out these photos (below).


In fact, the current standard of control is outlined in A Guide to the Control and Management of Invasive Phragmites ([Michigan] Department of Environment, Great Lakes, and Energy; Third Edition, 2014). P. australis is highly invasive and difficult to control, so wetlands managers are advised to avoid practices that actually encourage its growth:
“Traditional moist soil management, in which impoundments are drawn down to produce mud flats in early summer, may encourage growth of Phragmites.”
Well, duh. Furthermore,
“If Phragmites is on-site or in the surrounding landscape, managers should use caution when timing drawdowns. Drawdowns should be conducted in late summer (late July) to maintain and promote native vegetation and to avoid reestablishment of Phragmites.“
(. . .even if duck food production is delayed or rendered impossible thereby. Just sayin.)
The worst of these drawdowns, in my opinion, occurred in 2021, when the levels were reduced so rapidly that water-dwellers had no time to escape. Rotting fish carcasses extended to the roadway, and the stench was unbearable. That’s when I decided to research which one of these answers, if any, were valid and then write up my findings (published elsewhere on this blog).
In case anyone who denies the frequency of the drawdowns is also bad at math, the 4-year interval between 2021 and 2025 falls short of the “5-7 year” schedule MNWR claims to maintain, and this isn’t even counting the intervening drawdowns conducted during this period.
Despite their claim, I don’t understand the how the managers (biologists) can “refresh” the individual pools “one at a time,” regardless of their size. That’s because the single large (main) pool houses a system of dikes linking it to the several smaller pools and feeder ditches located elsewhere along Wildlife Drive. When the water table in the main pool declines, so do the levels in every pool, ditch, and water collection connected to it. As these empty, the aquatic food chain and the entire food web it sustains collapse like a house of cards. There is no longer a habitat to maintain and no wildlife to maintain it for. The destruction covers the entire 3.7-mile stretch of Wildlife Drive — this cannot escape the notice of anyone who visited the complex over the summer (and in summers past).
Besides, It would be nice if they DID drain only “one [large] pool at a time,” because if the one (“large”) pool was drained and dedicated to duck food, there would be sufficient water in the others to accommodate the fish-eaters and waders, and I wouldn’t be writing this essay.
But, I digress.
Anyway, don’t just take my word for it. Take a ride along the loop and see for yourself.



“Well,” you may ask, “what about the other side? Isn’t there water on the east side?” Yes, indeed there is. The Seneca Canal runs for the entire north/south length of the Drive. It mostly attracts boaters and fishermen along with an occasional cormorant, a few eagles and osprey, and a kingfisher or two, but rarely a great blue heron or egret — and never ducks, yellowlegs or other small birds. There is no appreciable shoreline edging the canal, and the relatively deep-water habitat it sustains is unsuitable for waders, divers, dabblers, shoreline feeders that by instinct thrive in shallow-water marshes.
I took these photos (unless credited elsewhere) to show what happens when people in charge of managing a refuge don’t even know what the word means. They periodically obliterate what the local USFWS defines as the sole purpose of a refuge, to wit: “[maintenance of ] diverse habitats [that] give food, shelter, water and space to many of Central New York’s wildlife species.” However, this purpose is meaningless at MNWR as they periodically maintain a duck food garden in the mud, proving beyond doubt that when any one part of a food web is decimated, the rest of it is destroyed as well. Even though the USFWS asserts that “[w]ildlife on all National Wildlife Refuges comes first,” what they really mean is all National Wildlife Refuges except this one.


This begs the questions: 1) What is so important about attracting a hyperpopulation of ducks to the refuge each fall? and 2) How does this importance justify the annual destruction of the very habitats MNWR is tasked with preserving? Montezuma personnel have yet to acknowledge my questions, much less answer them. (“Simulating drought” is not an answer, it’s an excuse — and a lame one at that.)

I recently spoke to Logan Sauer, Resident Park Ranger and Visitor Services Manager at another NWR. The Iroquois National Wildlife Refuge deals with many of the problems that Montezuma faces in reclaiming farmlands lying within the Atlantic Flyway and then maintaining them as the natural wetlands they once were. One might expect, then, that their maintenance methods might overlap, since these similar habitats share the same physical, meteorological, and geographical conditions.
Mr. Sauer spent some time explaining that the INWR marsh maintenance policy is essentially dictated by both established and predictive weather patterns. Iroquois does adhere to the standard 5-7-year water-lowering cycle (unlike the “duck food cycle,” which seems to occur whenever MNWR wants it to). The water tables at both refuges are controlled by a dike system that permits intervention at will. However (and this is important), it is done at Iroquois only when nature fails to self-correct. To date, partial drawdowns have been required on occasion but never annually, and when they do occur the water levels are not drawn down to mudflats.
Additionally, duck hunting is permitted at INWR — but there’s an important factor to consider in the underlying philosophy. There are no efforts to reduce or eliminate the multiple wildlife habitats to a single hyperpopulation of ducks. None of INWR’s wetlands are groomed to produce duck-friendly vegetation to the exclusion of other resident wildlife. The ducks that are attracted to Iroquois wetlands are not artificially lured there and thus are not exploited by either the hunters or the refuge staff. That’s because the goal, according to Mr. Sauer, is to “maintain the diversity of habitats naturally present” in the wetlands under their care (emphasis mine).

(Not discussed were the possible benefits of allowing the water table to regulate naturally once these farmlands are reclaimed, https://conservationevidence.com/actions/3198 . There just wasn’t enough time to do so.)
Sounds reasonable, doesn’t it? Except when it falls from the face (or the keyboard) of an MNWR rep. Then it sounds like bullshit.
Mr. Sauer was unaware of and unfamiliar with the practices I described to him based upon my observations at MNWR, which remained unnamed during our discussion — because when I broached the subject the look on his face was a mixture of horror and confusion.

While Iroquois and Montezuma do share problems, they clearly do not share philosophies. I suspect that’s because MNWR has something that INWR doesn’t — a financial partnership with the nation’s largest, most influential, and best-known duck hunting organization, Ducks Unlimited.

There is no reason, other than quid pro quo, for MNWR to periodically abandon their mission of protecting and preserving diversity of wildlife and their habitats in favor of a singling out one exclusively for ducks. Waterfowl — ducks, geese, swans, rails, and coots — are neither threatened nor endangered, and there is no shortage of regional feeding/rest areas on the flyway. In fact, the Montezuma refuge lies adjacent to the extensive Seneca Lake marshes which, to my knowledge, are never drained or “refreshed” but manage to attract ducks nonetheless. There is absolutely no need for Montezuma to continue overusing any duck-luring tactics — unless, of course, they wish to reward DU for its financial and in-kind contributions by providing a less-restricted and more populated duck-hunting experience than what is offered at the state-controlled Seneca Lake.
So, why do they do it? Why do they consistently violate the public trust by performing the wildlife equivalent of mass murder just to please a few duck hunters? Oh, that’s an easy one. They do it simply because they can.
According to state regulations and USFWS guidelines, individual hunters are subject to fines and/or license suspension should they be caught baiting wildlife. That’s why hunting is prohibited on “manipulated” (planted and harvested) land as long as bait — grain or seed — remains on the ground (the USFWS specifically mentions cornfields, since the post harvest litter could attract — and does attract– foraging wildlife). That’s also why DU (and other) hunters avoid the agricultural mucklands in the “potato farm” region of Rt 31 in Savannah and instead hold their “magnificent muck duck hunts” (their words, not mine) just a few miles away at MNWR, whose yearly endeavors ensure expansive, huntable mucklands of their own (something that isn’t philosophically possible at INWR — you know, that whole “diversity of wildlife habitats” thing).
And it’s all very legal. One would think that the acres of bait raised in MNWR’s muddy duck-food garden should guarantee a hunt-free environment, no? Because the USFWS regulates “wildlife food plots” as carefully as they do farmland, right? WRONG, because they’ve stuck this exemption right in the middle of all the restrictions and prohibitions listed in their guidelines: “If you restore and manage wetlands as habitat for waterfowl and other migratory birds, you can manipulate the natural vegetation in these areas and make them available for hunting.”
Apparently it’s against the Migratory Bird Treaty Act (16 U.S.C. §§ 703–712) to kill, sell, hunt, take, or capture migratory birds, including migratory ducks, and you can’t even collect cast-off feathers without a permit — but it’s OK to shoot them as long as you do it at MNWR.
Kind of skews the entire meaning of the word “refuge,” doesn’t it, luring animals to rest and feed, only to sneak up, shoot them dead, and throw them in a boat. Having attracted them to a refuge. With bait.

“BAM! Right between the eyes!” — Marisa Tomei (My Cousin Vinny, 1992).
I don’t financially subsidize MNWR and I rarely visit there anymore since I don’t much enjoy witnessing the effects of poor wetlands management. Pleasanter opportunities await elsewhere, and I find good spots driving along the backroads. The wetlands I find are smaller and subject to the whims of weather but never require “refreshment” beyond that supplied by nature. Yet they manage to attract all sorts of wildlife, including ducks. Who’da thunk it!






I must confess, though. Recently I myself was lured to MNWR by an intriguing Facebook photo. It showed two cars stopped on the Drive and an MNWR representative scolding at least one of the drivers. Apparently someone had lingered beyond the allotted 5 minutes and/or was observed getting out of the car in an effort to photograph the resident owl family. Such conduct stresses the birds and “ruins it for everybody,” according to the post. Laughed out loud at that one, because said employee was neither confined to a car nor constrained to a 5-minute-or-less tirade while her colleague dutifully and digitally preserved the egregious visitor conduct as some sort of evidence.
Besides, how stressed do they think the birds get when MNWR employees watch animals die as they intentionally and too-frequently collapse the food web by draining the marshes? Asking for a friend.

FWIW, I knew about this owl but avoided looking for it prior to this because it would be too stressful — for me (I don’t do well with glaring looks and sanctimonious verbal assaults). Besides, I already have (stress-free) photos of the great horned owl family that had nested at Sterling Nature Center a couple of years ago. At Braddock Bay, where they assist visitors with advice and guided hikes, I photo’d some saw-whets napping high up in a pine tree. (They don’t call it Owl Woods for nothing!) BTW, Hawk Creek routinely offers educational programs and, for a small fee, photo walks as part of their outreach.

I mentioned all this in my reply to the FB post, further noting that MNWR’s owl chose to nest proximate to Wildlife Drive because her maternal instincts deemed it safe to do so despite the moderate traffic and occasional photographer, neither of which has caused her to abandon her family or move it elsewhere. So, I wonder just who is stressed by such flagrant disobedience — is it the owl or the rep?
I knew that comment would result in a big fat block, but it was so worth it. 🙂
In any event, it took about 10 minutes to get that photo (above) plus several others, and the owl never even flinched. In fact, it was still there about an hour later, when I went around the Drive for a second time. (Note, no birds or MNWR reps were stressed during this process.)

Of course, MNWR doesn’t care about any of this. My writing is a minor annoyance that hardly interferes with the photographers, weekenders, home schoolers, sightseers, and unleashed dogs who “don’t believe [their] lyin’ eyes” and spend both time and money supporting a “refuge” that kills its own animals. Go figure.

who monitors the MNWR Friends FB page,
but who never did figure out
that I had directed him to an Amish egg farmer
and not the leucistic hawk

(published May 19, 2025)
+ Africa, Andy Nguyen, baboons, Birds, Crane, eagles, egret, Fish, Geese, giraffes, hippo, Kenya, lions, Maasai Mara, mirrorless, monkeys, Naivasha, Nakuru, rhino, Uncategorized
(In and) Out of Africa
Africa is beautiful!

Kenya, to be specific.
It was a truly unforgettable experience in many ways, not the least of which was the sprawling Maasai Mara and the incredible diversity of the wildlife it sustains.
I left the Olympus cameras at home. We really wouldn’t be doing much walking, so lightweight gear was not a consideration. Instead, I used the full-frame Nikon d850 and the Nikkor 200-500 telephoto lens. I also brought the d500 along, whose APS-C sensor would give a little extra reach when needed.
I had some trouble adjusting to the mechanical viewfinder. I am so used to the EVF on the Olympus, where what you see is what you get. So, some of my photos were, um, “exposure-challenged.”
See what I mean?


Good thing Andy showed me how to use Adobe Camera Raw! I was able to salvage this cute little bee eater, albeit with some graininess that, had I paid attention to the available light, would not have been an issue. Lesson learned!
But that’s not all I learned on this trip.
I learned that the African savannah was not crowded with great herds of animals dashing about or dramatic life-and-death struggles between predators and prey — despite what we see in National Geographic videos. In truth, we had to search for the wildlife, sometimes for hours and sometimes without success. Most of the animals we did find were in small groups, and although we followed some predators, we didn’t witness any hunts-in-progress.



But the savannah does not disappoint!
We saw lions just about every day. Not only are they King of the Jungle, they are King of the Mara as well. And why not? They are at the very top of the food chain, if not the food web, so lions rule wherever they roam. Period.








We did find a lion guarding a recent water buffalo kill. The day was hot, so he would periodically lumber out from the shade for a meal or a snack. Other wildlife gathered nearby, but none were willing to risk the wrath of the lion by approaching too close. So, they simply waited patiently until the lion had its fill and went for a nap; it didn’t take long after that for the carcass to be reduced to mere bones.






Of course, the Mara was not just about lions, water buffalo, and hyenas. There were lots of birds, big and small. I can’t find my bird fieldbook, so I will identify the unnamed ones once I find it.
(some of these photos were severely “cropped” by WordPress to fit in their frames)












We saw lots of other animals, too.
And, of course there were hippos! Hungry, hungry hippos! Interesting that they spend most of the daytime soaking in the water, coming out at night to forage.






And you don’t want to get on their bad side, just sayin
The broad expanse of savannah was awesome. There were few real roads, only parallel paths where tires from the 4-wheelers had matted the grass. The drivers had to be very careful, because matted grass could be a resting place for baby animals, and no one wanted to interfere with that.
But at other times the drivers had to be very aggressive! River crossings could be downright dangerous at times. It took some skill for the drivers to maneuver the 4-wheelers safely across rocky streams and quick-flowing water. There were several times when I had to close my eyes and hang on tight, hoping for the best!
Like, the time when the driver was struggling to get us across a slippery, rock-filled stream. In the midst of this struggle, one of our number urgently called out STOP! — because he wanted to take a picture of a bird. I suppose it’s a good thing that he doesn’t know how close he came to being ejected from the vehicle by a forcible, well-placed foot belonging to a terrified occupant who was angered by his selfishness (me).


Kenya isn’t all Mara, though. The trip organizer, Andy Nguyen, put his extensive experience and meticulous travel-planning expertise to work and designed an 8-day trip that gave us not only the full experience of Maasai Mara but also an exploration of two lakes, Nakuru and Naivasha, before returning to Nairobi to catch our flights home.



Nearing the lakes, we came across some sparsely wooded areas with enough trees to support some amazing (and amusing) wildlife.









We couldn’t access Lake Nakuru directly, but the ring road provided unfettered viewing.









More funny birds:



Other animals living lakeside included monkeys






and baboons!



The giraffes were really hilarious. I thought these two were a loving couple, but the guide assured me they were not — they were two males fighting over a female! When fighting, they attack the most vulnerable area — the neck. If a neck fracture isn’t fatal in itself, it would certainly cause the injured giraffe to starve to death.






However, there were some giraffes who were behaving nicely:



Surrounding Lake Naivasha is a small fishing village. The animals were amazing. . .









. . .almost as amazing as the villagers









There was only one thing that bothered me on this trip, and that was I WISH I was a better photographer! So many of my photos were duds, and I see lots of areas in these photos that really need improvement. I returned to the States with a task list to work on and with much gratitude and admiration for Andy, who devised this incredible safari. His example as a photographer, teacher, and an honorable man who is true to his word is certainly one that inspires!
Oh, yeah, well . . . there was this other problem, too. Unfortunately, a couple of participants were not satisfied with what the tour offered. Their extensive (expensive!) and divisive demands ruined the social affability we had previously enjoyed. They were pervasive, persistent, and far from silent; they even persuaded one of the driver-guides to take sides in the dispute. Although there was no way to send the troublemakers home while in the middle of the African bush, we simply made the best of a bad situation; however, it is comforting to know that they are banned from attending future tours — and that the aggrieved parties had withheld from the driver-guide his share of the customary end-of-trip tip.
And, I can attest to the success of this policy! I recently attended another Andy Nguyen phototour, this one in Costa Rica, and I assure you the absence of these two was sooooooo refreshing! Costa Rica was almost as wonderful as Kenya, so stay tuned — I will post the Costa Rican results soon.

(published December 13, 2022)
Just past the glitz of Niagara Falls (on the Canadian side) are the Dufferin Islands.

These islands were created early in the 20th century during the construction of a generating station by Ontario Power Generating (OPG).
The area has been a government-administered nature area since 1999, when power was no longer produced there.
The islands are rather small and easily traversable. Paid parking is nearby, and there are benches near the water for those of us who want to check our gear for the proper settings before we begin.

I met my friend and mentor, Andy, there yesterday for a lesson on birds-in-flight. Photographing birds – period – is hard enough, since they never really stay put for every long. You never know when they will take off, leaving just a blurry spot in your photo as evidence of their existence.
Birds-in-flight, though, is particularly challenging. . .for me, anyway. Part of the challenge is that I’m easily distracted by bird behavior, even when they are fairly static and just hanging around.
They’re so funny!

So, while most of the lesson was learning how to pay attention, I did get quite a few useful pointers from Andy, who I swear is the original Bird Whisperer.
Armed with a stockpile of suitable bird food, Andy threw it towards the water, which immediately attracted flocks of Canada geese and ring-billed gulls.
The geese were lazy, not hungry, or both, because only a few of them chased after the food.
In fact, they mostly preferred to gather around our feet, waiting for us to scatter it on the ground.

Even so, they pretty much ignored it.
The gulls, however, were different.
They battled each other, winging and splashing, until the triumphant victor rose above the fray and flew off with the tasty morsels.
And woe to the poor goose who dared to venture out and capture a snack!
It would get a scolding from an infuriated gull for sure!
So, it was a great opportunity for catching some birds-in-flight!

It was sunny at mid-day, so we shot wide open (for me, that was f/5.6) at 1/1600 or 1/2000 with a low ISO.
Andy advised a 4-stop difference if filling the frame with gulls (all that white would drive the meter crazy!)
But that would be a rarity for me.
At this point, I’m happy just to get a bird in the frame that is recognizable as a bird!
Unfortunately, I did get a good amount of blurry blobs but eventually managed some decent shots, especially after Andy changed my focus setting to group. . .

. . .and coached me to try to keep the focus pont(s) centered on the bird.
That worked a lot better!
These birds may be “just gulls,” but they are living, breathing creatures doing what they are programmed to do.
And they do it beautifully!
Maybe not as colorful or rare as other birds, but good subjects to practice on. . .and amazing creatures in their own right.

Butt shots are not acceptable in the good-photographer community.
However, I couldn’t resist this one with his tail so strategically elevated in the perfect position for a quick takeoff after landing and grabbing.
I think the duck was utterly surprised!
I worked reallyreallyREALLY hard on focus, which seemed to elude me despite my best efforts.
Another Andy tip — when focusing on BIF, “pump” the focus button. This will help keep a fast-moving bird acceptably sharp.

Back-button focus works well here, and I was pleased that I was able to set BBF without Andy’s help. 🙂
This tip worked well, so well that I was able to crop some of my photos for close-ups.
Just before we had to leave, in flew an adult black-crowned night heron! They call them “night herons”for a reason, so it was great to see one in the middle of the day.
Andy’s photo is much better than mine (he caught the red eye by moving to where the sun would catch the heron’s eye and light up the retina).

But I am happy with mine. The focus is good, and the heron is preening.
“Preening” sounds much better than “scratching at feather mites,” don’t you agree?
Anyway. My next lesson will be on reading the light.
But I need some practice first!
In case you are new to this blog and don’t know who Andy is, he is a phenomenal photographer who both teaches and offers higher-end workshops. His main interest is nature, specifically birds.
He really IS the Bird Whisperer, not to mention the Gear Guru.
Take a look at his photos, and I think you will agree.


(published July 9, 2022)
Been taking my camera out as often as I can, experimenting with manual mode.

And lighting. That seems to be my biggest problem.
There was a particular grainy, 18% gray day this week, where everything came out fuzzy and monotone. Like this guy over here ———>
I went back on the next day, which was bright and sunny, and did much better. Like that guy down there. . .same greenie, better light so better focus.
Even phase-detection focus points need some sort of contrast to work effectively.

So, I’ve got to learn how to make the best use of available light. . .which may mean just waiting until there is enough of it to work with.
That, and birds-in-flight. Andy gave me some great tips, but it’s putting them into practice that’ the problem. . .
The first — and most important, I think — is to focus on the bird in the distance, before it takes off.
If you wait until it’s in flight and then try to focus, it’s really hard to get a good lock. . . reallyreallyREALLY hard.

Maybe not for others, but certainly for me.
Another issue: I’ve GOT to learn not to underexpose.
The lack of suitable subjects is frustrating. This has been worsening ever since I got back from Florida.
There were sooooooooooooo many birds in Florida! Here in western NY?
Not so much.

I’ve been spoiled!
I have only two nearby wetlands, and they are not very nearby. Each takes about an hour to get to.
Montezuma National Wildlife Refuge used to be my go-to birding place.
It has a 3-1/2 mile Wildlife Drive, which used to be a rich source of wildlife. On either side of the Drive there are wetlands, a marshy pool on the west side and the Seneca Canal on the east. As the Drive curves around to the west and south there are smaller bordering pools.

Or, what used to be pools.
You see, the marsh managers think it’s a good idea to drain the marshes every spring, which dries up a vital element of the food web.
They’ve been doing this for the past 5 years.
Indeed, the last year there was any appreciable water in the marshes was 2017!
The wildlife aren’t stupid.

The herons, eagles, osprey, kingfishers, etc. who at one time frequented this Flyway stop, simply look elsewhere for better fishing grounds.
This year it’s been virtually deserted, except for a delightful sandhill crane family, who thrive searching the meadows-that-were-once-marshes for edible goodies (but usually on the bad-light side of the Drive!).

Of course, there is also the occasional great blue heron, an eagle or two, and a rare pie-billed grebe. And yesterday I saw two great egrets — but way out in the main pool, where there was a decent water level.
There’s always hordes of redwing blackbirds, purple martins at the feeders (in season), song sparrows, kingbirds, and a few warblers (again in season).
And geese. There are always far too many Canada geese!
The (formerly) good variety of shorebirds, which included a pair of Wilson’s phalaropes (!) are long gone, now that their feeding grounds have dried up.

Anyway
My other go-to area is Sterling Nature Center.
No Wildlife Drive here, but certainly some very good trails, one of which takes you to a great blue heron rookery.
This is always a great place to visit!
Especially in the spring, when a variety of flora and fauna can be found and the herons are busy raising their young.

I am going to get busy and search for new hunting grounds, some close by and some farther away.
Stay tuned!
(published June 14, 2022)
Wild Wings Florida 2022 ended with me totally convinced I should move there. . .until I remembered that the cockroaches are this big <<holding hands out wide>>
Here are some more shots, some good and some not-so-good, that I took on that wonderful Last Day of Wild Wings Florida 2022:












(published May 30.2022)
+ about me, Andy Nguyen, Birds, Crane, Ducks, Fish, heron, mirrorless, Montezuma, osprey, Uncategorized, Wild Wings Photography
Wild Wings Day 5: The Star
Today was SuperSaturday, so by definition The Star of the Day would be a SuperStar.
And it was!

No doubt about it, it was babies!
Babies clearly were the Number One SuperStar of the Day!
Our morning outing was delayed by thunderstorms, severe enough to prompt lightning warnings.
But once they cleared we were off, looking for SuperStar candidates.
It didn’t take long to find one — in fact, we found it during an impromptu roadside stop when we saw a sandhill crane family feeding near a small pond.
And we didn’t just find one; we found two of them — in the delightful form of two fuzzy little sandhill crane colts.
They were a little wet but undetered by the thunder receding in the distance.

We have a few sandhill cranes up here in western New York, most reliably found at the Montezuma National Wildlife Refuge, but they tend to wander just out of telephoto range.
Plus, they have a rather frustrating habit of feeding on the bad-light side of Wildlife Drive.
Not so with this sandhill crane family. They allowed us to approach to a close but respectful distance, which permitted some great captures.
Andy says that in Florida the cranes can have two, possibly three broods in the season.
Amazing!

This was at a freshwater national wildlife refuge with a Wildlife Drive at least three times the length of the one at Montezuma, and it didn’t disappoint.
There were no signs warning us to stay in the car lest we disturb the wildlife. And there was no marsh drainage or other attempts to “simulate drought” in order to grow duck food. (For the uninitiated, see Montezuma National Waterfowl Refuge here on this site.)

Apparently this refuge doesn’t really care about hunters or duck stamp dollars. Probably because Ducks Unlimited, Inc. is not on their list of financial partners. So, they manage very well without them.
Yay!
The very first animal we saw was an alligator! This one, he said, was “only a baby,” but it looked huge to me!

But we also saw some “easy ones,” like black-necked stilts and killdeer.
It was pretty windy, which disturbed the birds.
And whatever I had caught on the plane was getting worse, which disturbed me. So, I spent the harsh-light hours resting and eating lunch (two bags of Ricola cough drops).

The afternoon excursion was at a walking trail.
This afforded us glimpses of a variety of wildlife, including whistling ducks (which sound like songbirds!), a delightful green heron staring intensely at nothing, a nesting osprey, and some great blue herons.
Of course, there were alligators, too, mostly of whom stayed far away from us in the water.

Birds-in-flight was still a challenge but I managed to get a few decent ones.
And I got some good stills, including the aforementioned osprey,
a couple of the whistling ducks,
and a great blue heron struggling against the wind to stay safely perched in a tree top.
But the best was yet to come! SuperSaturday had a SuperConclusion — eye-level observation of an osprey nest!

The light was disappearing fast, so we had to work quickly.
After napping a while, the young man awoke revived and refreshed.
He repeatedly called out to mom to bring him some fish.
He also did a few other things.

I’ll spare you the photo of that.
Anyway.
Mom did her best, but no dinner arrived during our period of observation.
Eventually the light faded, and we had to leave.

A few more from SuperSaturday, some good and some not-so-good:






(published May 29, 2022)
The Star of the Day today could have been the pelicans, which were quite photoworthy.

Or it could have been any of the number of small waders that ran along the shore and entertained us by pestering each other.
But The Star of the Day was none of these.
It was definitely the wood stork. And not just *any* wood stork. It was THIS wood stork, whose personality outshone all the other birds we saw on Day 4.
However, we wouldn’t know that until the afternoon.

The spoonbills were just as busy on Day 4 as they had been a few days earlier, gathering and delivering nesting materials.
There were other birds that caught my attention and stayed still long enough to allow me to practice and improve my focus-locking and tracking skills. After these practice shots, I did much better on birds-in-flight, although it is clear I still have a long way to go.
At least the birds in these images are recognizable as birds! and not the fuzzy blobs that characterized my past attempts at BIF.

The wifi table at McDonald’s allowed me to spend the harsh-light hours reviewing and post-processing my photos.
And it was during this time that I learned my next lesson. Noisy images.
Since the M4/3 sensor is small (17 x 13 mm) its photo receptors are also small, especially if there are more of them. They can absorb only so much light and not nearly as much as full-frame sensors. So, noise can be a problem. What I learned, though, in reviewing and post processing, was that this doesn’t have to be a problem if you use every single photon of available light.
Underexposed images will definitely harbor a lot of noise, even with cameras that have larger sensors, but images that utilize as much available light as possible (without overexposing, that is) — not so much.

If noise is present, it will be found in the dark areas of the photo; hence, the importance of avoiding underexposure. And it tends to affect the background more than the subject, if the subject is sharply focused. At least, that’s what I found in my Day 4 photos.
[Edit, February 10, 2026 — I find noise to be a bigger problem with the Nikon cameras. As I look back on these Olympus shots, they really aren’t all that grainy.]
The afternoon golden hours finally arrived, and with them the Star of the Day.
This wood stork had Personality (with a capital P!).
Not willing to expend energy in unnecessary hunting, it simply ambled up and down the shoreline looking for handouts.

An empty bucket must have smelled of fish, because our wood stork kept checking it out. Disappointed, it looked for other buckets that might hold lunch. . .
. . .such as kids’ sand pails.
Disappointed again!
We turned our attention to activities of other birds, but the stork returned several times to check out the shoreline and any buckets left thereon.
It was both amusing and amazing to watch.

Now, stork antics aside, I can’t forget the pelicans.
The pelicans were both numerous and interesting.
The rocks were painted with their whitewash, revealing which ones were favorite resting places.
They, too, declined to hunt for their dinner, but that’s okay. Instead, the begged for their dinner.
There was one who performed several tricks and displays trying to entice a fisherman to hand over some dinner.
The pelican was unsuccessful, but our friend the stork did catch the fish that the fisherman had tossed its way.

But that was it. If either the stork or the pelican was going to eat anything more, they had to do its own legwork.
More photos from Day 4.
Some good, some not so good, but all in all a great day of learning and practice.













(published May 27, 2022)


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