The rainy season has now extended through the entire month of December into early January. It produces glorious sunrises over the ocean, 18 miles to the east, but also limits our time afield. This was the view from our back patio on the morning of December 28.
Late in the afternoon two days earlier, this full rainbow was a celestial delight.
Soon after the rain stopped, the colors of the sunset reflected on the lingering clouds to the east. I took these panoramic photos with my iPhone camera.
Morning dew on spider silk provided unexpected color.
High water in the wetlands has driven the White-tailed Deer to browse along the levees and roadways. While we normally are lucky to even see a deer, there have been as many as six at a time.
A Northern Cardinal glowed in the morning light.
The subtle plumage of a Yellow-rumped Warbler contrasted with the Brazilian Pepper berries.
I expected this photo of a Northern Mockingbird to turn out badly because the bird was in deep shade, but it posed nicely and the cool light enriched its gray plumage.
A Gray Catbird, another monochromatic subject, flashed it rufous undertail coverts.
Two Northern Flickers, in a hostile confrontation, displayed their yellow undertails.
This photo was spoiled by the cable, but it also shows the flicker's gilded underwings.
On the day before Christmas, an immature Yellow-bellied Sapsucker appeared on our only native back yard tree, a mahogany. I took its picture through the window. It drilled neat lines of holes, encircling the trunk, and has returned every day since to drink the sap and eat the insects attracted by it. This is a new yard bird for us. Its plumage hints at the rich reds and yellows that are only starting to emerge. If it stays, perhaps we will be lucky enough to see it in living color!
The sapsucker's cousin, a Red-bellied Woodpecker, stopped long enough to show off its adult plumage.
Our local Bald Eagles have egg(s) in their nest with an expected hatch date of January 12. Here the female eagle takes a break after her mate assumed incubation duties.
Not to be outdone by the birds, a Southern Ring-necked Snake played dead when I cornered it on the sidewalk near the entrance to our local wetlands. Its orange and red undersides may deter or confuse predators. Interestingly, though it remained immobile when I picked it up, it always slowly turned belly-up and moved its head into the shade of its coils after I put it down. It came to "life" as soon as I retreated a comfortable distance.
The red dewlap of a Brown Anole caught my eye.
Butterflies and flowers lend their color. Here a Long-tailed Skipper feeds on a Lantana flower.
A contradiction in terms, a male Queen butterfly contrasts with a white flower.
The White Peacock, true to its name, reflects all the colors.
South Florida has two seasons. Simply stated they are the Dry and the Wet seasons. Some would call them the Tourist and the Hurricane seasons. Fall and winter nights are usually cool and there is no great threat of rain, allowing us to sleep with the windows open, while air conditioning becomes a necessity during the hot and muggy summer. By any name we have entered the second season, which begins by late May and lasts into late September.
- Red sky in the morning, sailors take warning;
- Red sky in the night, sailors' delight.
There are opposing theories about the source and usefulness of this old poem. Some say that the red sky at night is caused by high pressure and good weather (in the west), while red in the morning indicates a storm system to the east. Another explanation is that a reddish sunrise is caused by particles suspended in the air, foreshadowing an approaching storm from the west. Here in coastal Florida, the storm clouds often move in from the ocean, which is east of us, and red sunrises are common this time of year. This is the view from our back yard, showing a bank of clouds along the oceanfront, some 18 miles away.
- Mares' tails, sailors furl your sails
Cirrus clouds, long streamers high in the sky, usually mean that bad weather can be expected within the next 36 hours. Sailing vessels are well advised to take in their sails. Mary Lou is up ahead of me, walking north along the gravel road that leads to the heron rookery near our home.
At the rookery, it was interesting to see this interaction between a pair of Yellow-crowned Night-Herons. The male (on the right) had just flown into the nest tree and the female appeared to be greeting him in what I believe to be a mutual recognition display.
Notice the bright reddish legs, characteristic of the male during the early part of the breeding season.
Nest #22 is out in the open, providing some nice photo opportunities. The pair at this nest posed with their two offspring on May 24.
The two little herons have plenty of character. I called them "Mutt & Jeff," after cartoon characters that were popular when I was a child. Younger folks called them "punk rockers."
They struck some comical poses....
...or at least I thought so (May 27). Maybe I looked just as funny to them.
They grew quickly (May 31).
Their parents kept watch and ignored them as they begged to be fed..
Here they look like unruly teenagers (June 2).
One of their free-flying neighbors, of the same species, is probably a week or two older.
There also were several juvenile Green Herons in the rookery.
On the walk back home, a Killdeer, flashing its conspicuous tail feathers and feigning serious injury, tried to draw me away from its eggs or young, hidden at the side of the road.
I took notice of other interesting creatures, such as a distant Great Crested Flycatcher...
...the persistent singing of a Northern Cardinal...
... the coos of Common Ground-Doves...
... a Eurasian Collared-Dove at the fruit of a Royal Palm...
... a dragonfly, which I believe is a Golden-winged Skimmer...
...a White Peacock...
...and a Gulf Fritillary..
The next morning it was cloudy but the weather forecast said that there would be no rain for the next 4 hours. We only walked out about a quarter mile when the skies darkened and we had to hurry back home. Folk wisdom trumped the science of the meteorologists!
That little red dot is Mary Lou moving away fast. She was smarter than I and turned around earlier as I lingered to snap a couple of photos of the gathering storm. I got wet, but a garbage bag protected my camera equipment!
