Borden Wetlands

Winter has come and almost gone in no time at all. I can easily recount how many times I've endured the cold by traversing the frozen expanse of the Wetlands. An invitation to the inevitable frozen fingers that come from hovering over the shutter for just too long, holding out for that perfect photo of a black-capped chickadee on a fluffy cattail. Or one of the many white-chested nuthatches, creeping, scouring every inch of bark they could find. I resigned myself (for the most part) to birdwatching from the comfort and warmth of our home, where the bitter frozen fruit of one of our trees proved popular with a group of cedar waxwings. It was quite surprising to watch them swallow the frozen berries whole! A cast-iron frying pan acted as a watering hole for many of our neighbourhood birds when the temperature rose above zero, and it attracted a close relative of the white-breasted nuthatch. One that I tried and failed to photograph in the fall of last year, but a return of the red-br...

Observing the mink has become something of a morning ritual. It seems almost as when you buy a new car and then suddenly become aware of all the other cars of the same model. Since my first photos of the mink, I am now quite easily able to locate the mink every morning that I frequent the wetlands. Stand still for long enough, watch for movement on the far edge of the water, and there he is. Bounding over fallen rotten tree trunks. Traversing effortlessly from the land to the water, and on this occasion, swimming under the very critical eye of the resident mallards. And back again to land. Pausing very occasionally in between the endless search for food. The mink has so much energy and apparent enthusiasm for the hunt. It really is a treat to watch. The water, as you can see, is not frozen. The temperature for November has been incredibly mild. With the water not frozen, I've been able to watch the muskrats who live under one of the small islands that dot the wetlands as they colle...