outdoors

Sarah Della Penna sent in this photo she took of a button buck in the Genesee County Park.

From beginning to end, September was a great month to be outdoors. Apple trees already heavy-laden with fruit were showing deep hues of red.

This conjunction of a waxing crescent moon and Venus was visible in the early evening early in September.

Further downstream this woodland waterway entered a meadow, there the stream widened and was thick with submerged vegetation.....a favorite haunt of dragonflies that feed on aquatic insects and other tiny bugs. 

This is guy is called a Half-banded Toper....

Don't know how it was so-named but I really like the deep red color. 

The gossamer wings of a Jagged-edged Saddlebag

The markings along its abdomen are no doubt the "saddlebags."

This leopard frog lives in a damp, grassy section of the meadow, less than a stone's throw from where the stream exits the woods. He needs to lay low, as seen here, for this is also the hunting ground of a Great Blue heron.

Judging from its color phase, this leopard frog spends less time in the tall grass.

Smaller than a Concord grape and somewhat tart, wild grapes are edible and do make a great jam.

Poke berries, on the other hand, should be avoided.

Hawthorn guards the entrance to a woodland trail in Genesee County Park.

A wooly bear catepillar, a seasonal harbinger, checks out a leaf in the roadway of Genesee County Park.

Already deep red, these maple leaves, like the wooly bear, are an early indication that autumn is well under way.

Fall asters are prolific in our local outdoors -- and they really add color to the countryside.

The sun had barely cleared the horizon when I pulled out of the driveway Tuesday morning. And with the camera case on the seat beside me, I really wasn't sure where I was going. The last thing I expected on a rather chilly morning was a bald eagle perched in a dead tree overlooking Tonawanda Creek.

Nearly an hour earlier, while watching the news and having coffee, I mulled over where I would go. At first I contemplated going either to the swamps, Genesee County Park or dragging the canoe out back and paddling upstream on the Tonawanda. These have all been productive in the past but this morning, for some reason, I opted for something different. But still, I couldn't make up my mind on where to go....so I just got in the truck and drove. There was also a catch....I didn't have great deal of time to kill as I had an appointment at 11 a.m.

The sun was making its way up the eastern horizon when I eased down a grassy bank of the Tonawanda where it flows along Stegman Road north of the Bushville bridge. Despite the bright sun on this morning, far less light penetrates shoreline canopy in this stretch. That would change farther downstream. The rock-studded shoreline is a good indication this is smallmouth territory.

Steam rising off the surface -- a good indication the water was considerably warmer than the chilly 45 degree air.   

Farther downstream is where I came across the bald eagle -- in surroundings more suitable for surveying its domain, scanning the creek and the surrounding area for a meal. Fish, muskrats, rabbits -- when you have a bill and talons that big and sharp, the menu is limitless.

Turning its head nearly 180 degrees enables him to watch his backside and prevent potential prey from slinking past.

Further upstream, blended in among fallen limbs, a trio of wood ducks are oblivious to the threat from above. 

Taking leave of their temporary haven, the woodies wisely head upstream -- toward the cover of the canopy.

This cottontail no sooner emerged from dense cover when it rose up on its hind legs to sample the green growth from which it came......

but rather than opting for fresh greens, it chooses some brown drying growth - not that it matters, for this is but an appetizer. His main course is waiting beneath the apple tree.

Regardless of the season, there is never a shortage of furry visitors to our yard and this time of year, be it rabbit, chipmunk, squirrel or woodchuck, they all come to feast on the apples.  

Unlike the rabbits and woodchucks, this red squirrel isn't limited to dining on the ground. I'm sure he would much rather have pine cones from a Norway spruce but he's learned to take what he can get. And speaking of woodchucks, that green growth in the background is a travel corridor, so to speak.....

it's one of my wife's flower beds and the woodchuck uses it for cover. Here he's slinking past the ferns and hostas on the way to his dinner. Once he's sure the coast is clear, he'll waddle out into the open and grab an apple. If undisturbed, he will then stand on his haunches and begin gnawing away.

It seems that everywhere we went this month there were outdoor photo ops, one of which was this bullfrog basking in the morning sun while waiting for an easy meal.

This Circumpolar Bluet rested on shoreline vegetation long enough for its photo to be taken.    

Unlike its older and bolder counterpart, this young bullfrog remains mostly hidden, keeping only its head above the soggy vegetation. It's learned early on that it can be the hunter one second before becoming the hunted moments later.

Long-legged waders such as herons and egrets consider frogs choice morsels.

Frogs needn't worry about this fella. Strictly a herbivore, this young forkhorn will be shedding his velvet in the coming days.

Teasle highlighted by the sun, in the background a shaded brook covered with duck weed.

August provided us with a number of interesting cloud formations -- this one occurring in early evening.

Last week's full moon on the rise, climbing above the upper branches of our apple tree....

and several hours later its descent in the Southwestern sky.

The Turk's Cap is one of the most colorful and spectacular of the lily family.

While it lends color to the countryside, Spotted Knapweed, pictured above, is often considered an invasive and pesky plant, particularly when it shows up in a pasture.

Live Forever is a member of the sedum family, and derives its name from an ability to regenerate from the smallest fragment.

In recent decades purple loosestrife has inundated our wetlands.

Though highly colorful, loosestrife is also considered an invasive species that has taken over entire tracts of wetland, in the process crowding out more beneficial species.

Black-eyed Susans and Joe Pye weed along the bank of Tonawanda Creek.

As the legend goes, Joe Pye weed got its name from a legendary healer of the same name who lived up New England way in the 17th Century and used this colorful wildflower in the treatment of fevers.

Staghorn sumac seems to like the climate here in Western New York. 

Not to be confused with poison sumac, the drupes of staghorn sumac are utilized by man and nature alike. High in vitamin C, the drupes make a tasty tea or "sumacade." From mid to late July through early August is a good time to collect the drupes, soaking them in room temperature water for an hour or two before straining.

Here's a closeup of the drupe.....from December thru March, as available food sources are dwindling, wintering songbirds will utilize the drupes.

The first time I saw a house finch I thought I was looking at a sparrow/cardinal hybrid. Like many song birds, this one perched in our apple tree no doubt looking for insects.

Having spotted me, he immediately took what he felt was appropriate action............

As I understand it, this bit of displaying is something birds do to mark their territory to intruders or in hopes of attracting a mate.

Here's a literal bird's eye view of a visitor whose incessant squawking often gives him away long before he comes into view...........

unlike other songbirds, the noisy Bluejay didn't come here in seach of bugs. The apple tree is lush this year and no doubt he's here to gorge himself on fresh fruit. He must have been hungry -- despite my close proximity, he refused to leave.

For the past couple of weeks this little songster had been singing its heart out, while hidden amid the apple tree foliage. Its song was pleasant, and a sound I either had not heard before or perhaps just hadn't been mindful of. Try as we might, Claudia and I were unable to get a look as it flitted from branch to branch. If we attempted to move in for a closer it would fly off into an adjoining woodlot.  

As I took its picture it began belting out the same melody we had been hearing previously....... the closest resembling photo I could find in either the Smithsonian or Audubon field guides indicated it might be a Veery thrush. Still not certain, but its sound was most pleasing to the ears.    

Two year old Evan Patric, geared up with "floaties," takes his father's hand as he prepares to embark on his first fishing adventure.

Evan is nestled close to his father, James, as the boat leaves the dock. That's Joe Schlossel Jr. in the stern, rigging the tackle.

I'm not sure what dialogue took place here, but judging from his expression, Evan seems to be saying, "where are the fish?" 

With his dad's help, Evan takes hold of the fishing rod.

Given a free rein, so to speak, Evan dunks the end of the pole. Give him time, he seems to have the hang of it.  

With a little help, Evan boats his first fish, a largemouth black bass. For 2-year-old Evan that fish must be larger than life.

As evidenced by his smile, I'm guessing that Joe Jr. seems to have captured the action on his phone. It's been almost two decades since he first wet a line......  

And this is the guy who showed Joe Jr. the ropes. That's Joe Schlossel Sr. bringing a bass alongside the canoe.

Though Joe Sr. doesn't get to fish as much as he'd like, apparently he hasn't lost the touch!

With a lull in the action, Evan's attention turns toward the evening sky.....

What kid isn't fascinated with cloud formations?

Back at the dock, Evan gets into the canoe and grabs both paddles, just as he did before the evening began. He wasn't too pleased when we loaded the canoe onto the pickup. But a competent guide knows how to keep his clients happy and moments later Joe Jr. presented the young angler with a cherry-flavored freezy pop and just like that the canoe was forgotten. 

At first glance this photo appears to be nothing more than some tall wild grass. But a look just beyond the grass reveals an ominous shape and a pair of sinister-looking eyes. Even before I took this photo the first image I saw was that of a large bundle of feathers with a pair of enormous wings extended.

A closer look revealed a great horned owl that had apparently just made a kill and looks none too pleased over my intrusion. Judging from its size I'd say it's a female and she's on full alert, unsure of my intentions. Her raised tufts and intense, glowering stare seem to be saying, "stay away."   

You may find it funny, but, I took several photos and talked to her the entire time. Though still eyeing me warily, she seemed less tense. Unlike a few previous encounters where the owls repeatedly clacked their beak and emitted a hissing sound, this gal just looked at me as I took her picture.    

I've long had an infatuation with mature great horned owls, dating back to my first enounter in the late Sixties. They are an ultimate predator, and while highly nocturnal, they do make daytime hunting forays. They can rotate their head 280 degrees, enabling them to watch their own back, so to speak. That's quite an asset while hunting from a perch. Their long, thick talons will easily skewer flesh and they are built for silent flight as there is no swooshing of air as it passes though their feathers. Except for mating calls and territorial warnings, they navigate the wilds without making a sound.

Eventually I turned and walked away, as fascinated as ever with the great horned owl.

Murray the cat spends a good deal of his time perched in the window, just watching the world go by. Whether he opts for a ground floor or a second-story window, there's a lot to see. 

Take for instance this cottontail rapidly inhaling the stalk of a clover bud.

Then too, there are plenty of chipmunks to keep Murray amused. This guy appears to be checking if the coast is clear.

Whenever feathered or furry visitors come into our yard, Murray's barely audible purr becomes a muffled staccato and his tail begins to writhe back and forth and up and down. It's also a signal to grab the camera and see what's up. Generally it's songbirds, red or gray squirrels and woodchucks that pique Murray's interest.......but not always.

Like the morning when this hawk alit in the hedgerow, perched no more than 12 feet off the ground. I'm not sure if it's a young Cooper's hawk or a broad-wing, but I was able get a sequence of photos and Murray didn't seem to mind my intrusion into his space.

Naturally any birds or cottontails had vacated the area, but the hawk seemed intent on having a look-see. It began scoping the area with a long look to the left.

It then did an about-face to scan the ground below and slightly to its right.......

before peering off into the distance.

It briefly cast a glance in our direction.......

then, partially obscured by twigs, it seems to go on high alert, craning its neck forward. 

Its head once again erect, it's still eyeballing whatever caught its attention.

Suddenly its bill opens slightly....is it agitated or getting ready to pounce?

Then, for the second time, it turned in our direction.......and it's probably just a coincidence, but it was at this moment that Murray decided to vacate the window. Seconds later the hawk exited its perch and, in a flash, swept downward and momentarily out of sight before emerging once again as it sped off, flying just above a ground cover of vine and brush before disappearing from sight altogether.

Like I said, probably just a coincidence, but when I turned from the window, guess where I found Murray?

Sarah Della Penna takes walks with her Great Danes out on a piece of property off Creek Road, Batavia, and always takes her camera. She sent in some of her recent pictures.

It's that time of year when the small woodlots on either side of our property attract a variety of bird life, none more colorful than the Baltimore oriole. Though they didn't arrive as early or in such great numbers as last spring, they did arrive to feast on the small insects among the apple blossoms.

Having grown accustomed to their visits in recent years, by their song alone we know when the orioles have arrived. Their sound is distinct and pleasing to the ear.  

Partially obscured by apple blossoms, I'm guessing this to be a member of the warbler or finch family.

Here seen upside down in its quest for bugs, it was difficult to get a clear pic as it darted quickly about in search of food. 

A pair of fledgling robins seem uninterested in the juicy worm provided by their mother. Not a year passes when a robin has not failed to nest in our garage, always using one of two nests that have been in place for years and each year the same nest produces a double clutch.

A male and female goldfinch search the ground for a meal.

Morning sun highlights the crest of a pileated woodpecker.

Working its way around the tree, it has moved into the shade and this angle reveals the size of its bill.

A lone crow perched in the cottonwood.

The cottonwood towers above the other trees in the woodlot and it's in cottonwood where the crows often gather. This foursome no doubt has mischief on their minds, waiting to harass an unsuspecting hawk or waiting for the neighbors to take out the trash.

This photo was taken in late winter. At first I thought this crow was hard up for a meal as I've never seen a crow attracted to sumac drupes before. As I watched, he didn't eat the drupes, he tore them apart. Did it think something was inside? Or was it hell-bent on destroying the drupes because song birds eat them? And crows are notorious for raiding the nests of other birds and destroying eggs or killing the young.

In January of this year, the Genesee Archers for Christ was officially accepted as a chapter of the Christian Bowhunters of America. Pictured above are three of the chapter's founders. Left to right, Caroline and Joe Pionessa, of Oakfield, and Kevin Lawson, of Bethany. The fourth founding member is Batavian Mike Grasso. 

Joe Pionessa, a Marine Corps veteran who has been around the proverbial block a few times, decided the time had come to dedicate his life to Jesus Christ and what better way than to use his love of the outdoors as a ministry to bring the Gospel to men, women and children.

Recently, Joe Pionessa was the guest of Care-A-Van ministries at their Teen Warehouse in Darien, where the group serves up supper and provides recreational activities for inner-city teens on Saturday evenings. On this night, Pionessa shared some outdoor knowledge including turkey and deer hunting tactics.  

Here he's demonstrating the use of one of several game calls he had on hand. A longtime outdoorsman, Pionessa was quick to add that, at this point in his life, the outdoors has become about much more than hunting. Whether it be sunsets or sunrise, and a countless number of other natural wonders, he is now quick to recognize the handprint of God in the outdoors he enjoys.

The membership the Genesee Archers for Christ is comprised of men, women and children who are devoted to sharing the Gospel of Jesus Christ and spread the good news.

Interested parties can reach Joe Pionessa at 585-298-0011.

With a backdrop of woodland and blue sky, a patch of red osier stands amid the remnants of last year's cattails. 

Also called dogwood and red willow, osier is attractive to a variety of wildlife including this redwing blackbird, another spring harbinger.

Framed by osier, a swamp maple is reflected on the surface of a placid backwater. While the sight and sound of the redwing blackbird was obvious, unseen were the spring peepers whose mating call permeated the air.

A mother goose stealthfully protects her clutch of eggs....

...while a great blue heron stalks the edge of a shallow marsh.

It's early evening on Oak Orchard Creek and soon the diurnal creatures will begin their retreat. 

As day rapidly fades into night, only the spring peepers will remain vocal, joining the nocturnal chorus of the late night denizens.

For those who tune in regularly to the hit cable television show "Duck Dynasty," Phil Robertson is easily recognizable as the patriarch of a bearded clan of Louisiana woodsmen, including his sons, Jase, Willie, Jep and zany Uncle Si. 

Robertson paid a visit to Western New York last Saturday night for an event sponsored by the Bow Bending Believers, a group of Christian archers based in Medina with a number of Genesee County residents among its ranks. Bow Bending Believers is a branch of the Christian Bowhunters of America. As a large turnout was expected, Ridgeway Baptist Church provided the use of its sanctuary for the evening and upwards of 800 people came to hear Phil Robertson's message.     

During the meet-and-greet segment of the evening (that's Josh Harloff, of Oakfield, with Phil Robertson) two large screens on either side of the stage displayed videos of the Duck Dynasty clan doing what they do best -- hunting ducks amid the flooded timber of Louisiana's bayou. The video repeatedly depicted Phil, Jase, Willie and Si Robertson hunkered down and scanning the sky, then working the duck calls which made Duck Commander a hot commodity. Not surprisingly, large numbers of mallards, pintails and wood ducks began rapidly winging into range. Suffice to say, it was easy to see why the Robertson family often dines on duck gumbo.   

A powerful and dynamic speaker, Phil Robertson shared his testimony, including playing football at Louisiana Tech where he was the starting quarterback in the mid-'60s. During one game, after having thrown a long touchdown pass, he thought to himself, "Yeah, this is fun, but I'd rather be hunting ducks." He quit shortly thereafter and his understudy, a fellow named Terry Bradshaw, took over. In his autobiography, "It's Only a Game," Bradshaw said "The quarterback playing ahead of me, Phil Robertson, loved hunting more than he loved football. He'd come to practice directly from the woods, squirrel tails hanging out of his pockets, duck feathers on his clothes. Clearly he was a fine shot so no one complained too much."

Alan Robertson, on the right in photo above, is Phil's oldest son and the only clean-shaven of his siblings. He's an ordained minister in West Monroe, La., and before introducing his father on this evening, he told the audience how his parents bumped into Bradshaw at the Los Angeles airport. The two former teammates hadn't seen each other for 44 years but that didn't stop Bradshaw from giving his former mentor a big bear hug. Bradshaw then went on to tell his old pal of all the injuries he had sustained during his playing career, to which Phil replied, "I do believe I made the right career decision." His family owned company, Duck Commander game calls, recently celebrated its 40th anniversary.         

Once out of football and pursuing the outdoor activities he loved, life wasn't without its rough patches for Phil Robertson and his young wife. He and Kay married in 1966 and for a few years he went on living as though he were a bachelor. "Miss Kay," as she is known to millions of viewers, laid down the law one day in those early years of their marriage and it was around that time Phil made what he says was the best decision of his life when he accepted Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior.

On this evening, after being greeted with an enthusiastic standing ovation, one of the first things he did after stepping to the podium was take his worn and well-used Bible from his camo rucksack. And for over an hour the 800 men, woman and children were enrapt as the Duck Dynasty patriarch shared a message of faith, family and the United States of America. His theme for much of the evening was adversity -- whether on a national or individual level -- is often the result of disobedience. He spoke of the dangers and consequences resulting from neglecting God's word and putting the Ten Commandments on a shelf. His statements were not based on conjecture but rather a strong foundation of faith. 

After listening to Phil Robertson, I felt as though I had just heard a combination of John the Baptist and Thomas Jefferson. Obviously, he's quick to share his faith, love of family and country -- in that order. And it came as no surprise that those in attendance gave Phil Robertson another standing ovation as he concluded his talk.

Photos and information submitted by Mark Knowles.

Mark Knowles says his son, Cameron, 12, caught "Walter" this year and last year while fishing the pond at Lei-Ti Campground in Bethany. 

"This bass is called Walter by many who tried to catch him," Mark said.

Top photo is from this year and bottom photo is from last year, Mark said.

This horned grebe spent much of last weekend in our backyard after the Tonawanda spilled its banks. "Tamer" than other grebes, it allowed Claudia to take these photos without much alarm on its part. Still in its winter plumage in these pics, as it nears its breeding season the neck will turn rufous, the head and back will darken drastically and its russet "horns" will be more prominent.

Here its slightly tilting its head to accommodate a small fish down its gullet. Despite the murky floodwater, this grebe had no trouble finding prey beneath the surface. While its diet consists mostly of small fish, the horned grebe will also eat some crustaceans and aquatic insects. We watched as it would quickly dive and surface several seconds later, a process it would repeat several times throughout the day.

Excellent swimmers, young horned grebes can swim and dive immediately after hatching but most often they hitch a ride atop their parent's backs.

Horned grebes are rarely seen in flight, they migrate under cover of darkness and once on their wintering grounds they seldom leave the water. It spent all of last Saturday morning, afternoon and night in our flooded back yard. It was still there early last Sunday morning but with the floodwaters quickly receding, our visitor finally departed.

Considered the most colorful of waterfowl, the drake wood duck is resplendant in iridescent shades of blue, green and purple. His prominent crest is easy to spot in this photo taken by Claudia.  

The wood duck is noted for nesting in tree cavities. Their young will leave the nest soon after hatching, which will require plummeting up to 50 feet through the air to reach the ground or water.

A monogamous species, this probably isn't the first breeding season for this pair of Canada geese. 

Local wetlands are a favorite stopover for migrating geese. Many find the area just the place to start a family.

Here's a thought....just maybe, could swimming alongside one another be the equivalent of holding hands?

Here's another thought.....is this guy the odd man out???

There are few things in nature so graceful and sublime as the tundra swan in flight. In recent weeks they've been arriving in sizeable flocks from their wintering grounds along the mid-Atlantic Coast.

A split second before touch down in a local farm field, this pair will join the main flock in gleaning the remnants of last year's crop.  

Their respite will be brief before continuing onward to their breeding grounds in the Far North. The landowner said the previous two days the south end of this field held so many swans it resembled moguls on a ski slope.

While only a remnant of the previous day's flock remains, there were enough to suit me. This photo was taken seconds after they spotted me in a hedgerow. Moments before they were meandering about, heads to the ground as they helped themselves to last fall's leftovers. Now alert, their necks erect, they begin to move slowly away.

I certainly would liked to have captured this group against a blue sky....but like the saying goes, you play the hand you're dealt.

This is Raven, a first year black lab and she certainly doesn't seem to mind Claudia and I encroaching on her territory. Though these are her stomping grounds, she could care less about swans.....she just wants to make friends!     Raven is owned by Ed and Luanne Mileham who told us about the swans and gave us access to take photos. Thanks Ed & Luanne!!!   

By the time the mating season kicks into high gear, these swans will be just a memory, nesting somewhere in the Canadian Far North.