The new addition of a railing raiser to my deck I told you about last week is working well — I’ve been able to get many nice photos of birds visiting the porch railing and the backgrounds of these photos are now free of distracting lines, angles, and colors.
Now, all I have to do is wait for the right species to show up. I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before I see Carolina parakeets, ivory-billed woodpeckers and passenger pigeons.
While I wait, I have discovered that there have been some unintended consequences that have accompanied the installation of the railing raiser.
In addition to some of the regular birds I normally see at my feeding stations, I’ve also seen a visitor that was not initially on my guest list. A red squirrel has discovered the railing raiser and has found it to be extremely attractive.
The little fellow first arrived on the very morning that I added the long box to the porch railing. This seemed to be the product of some wizardry that I couldn’t comprehend, for I hadn’t seen a red squirrel in weeks. Probably a coincidence, but there may be a chance that red squirrels are telepathic. Someone should definitely look into that.
The red squirrel appeared at the north end of the porch, and its arrival was announced by the “ding” of a wind chime that is hanging from one of the branches. The position of this chime makes it ring when there is a serious wind out of the west or any sort of wind out of the south or east. On a calm day, however, the chime will ring when a squirrel traverses a particular branch and jumps down to the railing.
So, I was sitting at my desk near the kitchen window watching the snow fall, when I suddenly heard a gentle ring from the chime. I looked north, where the cottonwood tree stands, and there in a pile of freshly fallen snow stood a little red squirrel. With quick, birdlike movements, the squirrel zipped over toward the new installation, jumped the gap between the two parallel railings, and came to a sudden stop. Something was different and the squirrel knew it.
A moment of close scrutiny passed. The squirrel definitely took its time before approaching the strange object. Then, like a crow that doesn’t quite trust an unknown object, the squirrel took a hesitant step forward, then back again. It was probably looking for any sort of reaction that might indicate trouble, but none came. Then a few more hesitant steps forward, then a careful sniff, and finally a visible relaxation washed over the squirrel. Everything seemed to be safe.
I should have predicted the squirrel’s next move, but none of the birds had tried the same thing and I had become complacent with the situation and wasn’t really paying enough attention. So, when the squirrel went into the railing raiser I was surprised.
The beautiful scenery outside had not sufficiently dulled my senses to prevent me from seeing an opportunity, however. I quickly aimed my camera at the open end of the railing raiser and waited. It took longer than I would have expected, as if the squirrel was a house hunter that was checking every room for the accoutrements it desired, but eventually a little face peeked out. From this position, the squirrel spent quite some time just sitting and watching, assessing the potential of the view and the neighbors.
I laughed when the squirrel stepped out far enough to grab a sunflower seed and then carried it back into its new spot. The squirrel repeated the maneuver a couple times, but eventually surrendered to hunger and headed up to the top of the raiser where a nice pile of seed sat. This was as close as a squirrel could get while still allowing my big lens sufficient distance to focus on it.
The resulting photo is exactly the kind of position that I was waiting for. The squirrel was actually perched on the back edge of the railing raiser, but the fresh snow created what appeared to be a seamless and continuous background of white. Even better was the fact that the snow had subsided enough to prevent any unauthorized streaks anywhere in the photo. The classic pose of a squirrel sitting with its tail over its head and its front paws up to its face while eating something was perfect.
Even better, at least from my point of view, are the details in the photo. Snowflakes sit upon the squirrel’s nose, protected from melting by the squirrel’s thick fur. Whiskers stand out against the white background and you can see the tufts of hair on the squirrel’s ears. Best of all — and one of my favorite details to be found in any photo — is that you can see a reflection of my house in the squirrel’s eye. For me, that is a hallmark of a good, close photo.
So, with birds flying around and squirrels skittering from the cottonwood tree to the porch railings, I have a plethora of good subjects for future photography. This means that 2017 could be a year of doing everything over.
I have to try to get every species, from every angle, that I currently have in my collection, except now I can get them with better backgrounds. If I can improve my design, I may be able to make the photos even better.
I hope you had a wonderful Christmas yesterday, and I hope your New Year’s Eve is equally wonderful next weekend. I’ll see you again next week with a review of the highlights of 2016.
Bill Danielson has worked for the National Park Service, the US Forest Service, and the Massachusetts State Parks. He has been a professional writer and nature photographer for 19 years and he also teaches high school biology and physics. Visit www.speakingofnature.com for more information, or go to Speaking of Nature on Facebook.