View allAll Photos Tagged nesting
21.6.2024.
A pair of Fulmars (Fulmarus glacialis) nesting on the cliff edge at Bempton.
RSPB Bempton.
She stumbled toward the edge of the forest. Broken, bewildered, disoriented. She wasn't sure quite how she got here or quite how she was going to get home. She wasn't really certain of anything, of anyone. Of herself.
As she entered the forest, the birds gathering on branches above her called to one another. An insect hum provided a white noise bass line to their melody. The snap and crack of branches underfoot as she walked further into the forest created a syncopated, faltering percussion.
As she walked by one of the redwoods, she stumbled, her bare foot catching on a fern frond curling across the forest floor. She reached for the strong, thick old trunk of the tree; grasping it to catch her fall. Though the bark of the tree scraped skin from her forearms as she embraced it to stop from falling, she held it tighter as she regained her footing, as though her life depended upon it (and maybe it did).
She turned and leaned her back against the tree’s trunk, listening to the sounds above her. She closed her eyes and let the sounds - primarily the birdsong - wash over her. She became vaguely aware of the sap from the redwood’s trunk dripping at a seemingly glacial speed onto her shoulder as she stood, mesmerised by nature.
She shook her head, brushed her wild mane of hair back from her face, opened her eyes and looked around her. Eyes lingering on the eternity of trees stretching out in front of her, then the glimpses of sky through the canopy overhead, then falling on a cluster of mushrooms at the base of the trunk of the next ancient, towering tree.
She wove her way through the forest like a somnambulist. Dazed, her eyes unfocused. She felt like she'd somehow ended up being the last person on earth. She felt isolated, yet liberated. Free from other people, the crowds, the harsh sounds of the city. Surrounded by creatures possessed with the gift of flight, of music; self-sufficient in nature, without any need of humans.
She watched as a squirrel scurried across the forest floor and ascended to a branch to hoard its findings. She watched ants moving in armies up and down the length of a tree trunk, carrying morsels from the undergrowth into a knot in the wood. She envied them the simplicity of their lives. The ordered way in which the ants collaborated and cooperated. The home the squirrel had made overhead.
As she walked, she stooped from time to time to gather up some of the larger fallen branches until her arms were full. She moved toward a nearby clearing and carefully arranged the branches on the ground. She gathered more branches, not really thinking closely about what she was doing, just following some sort of instinct; a calming instruction sent directly from her mind to her limbs. She moved back and forth between the trees; selecting, collecting, depositing, nesting.
After a time the branches took on a form; a circular, welcoming shape that drew her in, made her feel more calm, more settled. At home. She continued adding to her construction, not thinking, just doing. Like the ants, but alone. The placement of the branches methodical, precise, yet appearing haphazard. The curve of the branches raised on one side and lower on the other; like some sort of pottery dish moulded by an amateur not yet skilled in the art of ceramics.
She paused as she approached her construction. Surveying it to assess whether it needed anything further, or was it complete? A gentle smile touched her lips as she decided it would do perfectly.
Her bare feet raw and stinging from walking back and forth across the forest floor; across twigs and branches and the odd soft cluster of fallen leaves and scattered fern fronds. Her shoulders and back warm with a satisfying ache from bending, lifting and carrying. She stepped into the circle of branches, bent her knees and gently placed her arse, thighs and lower back against the curve of the side of her construction, and leaning to one side, moulded her spine along the wall of the nest. Her hair tumbled over her face, obscuring her vision as she closed her eyes and the sound of the birdsong seemed to lift in her ears. She wrapped her arms around herself, embracing her aching body.
As she lay there in the forest, the thick smells from the undergrowth seeped into her nostrils. The smell of the wood, the soil, the musty smell of the mushrooms growing nearby. In her ears the continuing call and answer of the birds overhead, the hum of insects echoing across the space.
As she curled into herself further, one sentence gently circled in her mind: I am home.
28.3.16... A lazy morning then we all went for a cycle along the canal to the playpark. This swan is nesting right next to the path so I hope she's left in peace. There were three eggs that I could see!
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
www.floridastateparks.org/standrews
Nikon D3100
Nesting season and egrets are building at St Andrews State Park - Panama City Beach, Florida...
Set of Nova's Nesting Fabric Bowls. Love this pattern and will definitely be making many, many more! These are the 6, 7, 8, and 9 inch bowls.
a new project- handbound journal featuring Nesting illustration on the cover and newly designed pattern for the endpapers
She was definitely keeping her eye on me. I was going to cross the plank to get over to the small island where she is but after reading about how aggressive they are during nesting, I am glad I didn't.
14.5 – Sew Not a Square – Challenge 5 of Project QUILTING Season 14
I made these small nesting pouches for the challenge to sew something without any squares. I love these little dumpling pouches for storing small things. I have given pouches like these to many friends who carry them in purses, suitcases, etc. The pattern is my adaptation of the Dumpling Pouch I originally found here
keyka.typepad.com/my_weblog/2011/08/lets-make-dumplings-f...
Linking to Project Quilting 14.5 at
kimlapacek.com/2023/02/14-5-sew-not-a-square-challenge-5-...
Common Raven heading to the nesting site. Interestingly, its mate was right behind it (too far for a photo of both) and also had a beak stuffed with the finer nesting materials.
An entry for the Challenge Group 114 Pictures in 2014 No.104 ~ Soft.
Not needing so many fatball feeders now, we utilise a few of them for stuffing with dog fur brushings. The birds now have a readily available supply of soft nesting material and, as you can see, they have been helping themselves for furnishing their nests.
Taken with my Canon Telephoto Zoom 100-400mm f/4.5-5.6L IS USM EF Lens.
Better viewed in light box - click on the image or press 'L' on your keyboard.
PLEASE DO NOT FAVE WITHOUT LEAVING A COMMENT. THANK YOU.
This sculpture is installed at the north end of the new Martin's Point Bridge that connects Falmouth with Portland Maine, It replaces an older bridge from witch the metal rebar was used to make the nest.
Artist Wendy Klemperer of Nelson, New Hampshire, oversaw installation of a nesting osprey sculpture near the Falmouth approach to the Martin's Point Bridge on Friday, Oct. 31. Klemperer created the 75-pound piece of art in 2012 from weathered, salvaged steel; it was originally displayed at Maine Audubon in Falmouth. She made the nest, which weighs about 2,000 pounds and is 8 feet in diameter, over the last two weeks from reclaimed rebar from the old Route 1 bridge between Portland and Falmouth. The piece is considered a good fit for the area, since osprey are known to frequent the location. (Website)
- It seems every time I see a Blackbird lately they are either carrying insects or nesting materials. This female in particular had a fantastic selection. Drew's Pond, Devizes.
Another sign of spring around the Tucson area. I found this Morning Dove nesting with two eggs, in the crotch of a Saguaro skeleton against the wall of an adobe home in my neighborhood. She definitely had an eye on me as I snapped off some shots ...
We first noticed the mute swan on the nest on April 11, although I'm not sure if eggs had been laid yet. Last year's hatch was the first week in June, and the incubation period for Mute Swans is 34-45 days.
Until today, we had only seen this pair on the lake, nesting on the same site as last year. Tonight, however, there were 6 swans on the lake, more than we have ever seen here.
For those new to my photos, please check out my Swans album for previous years.
We spotted this common nighthawk sitting on its nest at Big Stone National Wildlife Refuge in Minnesota. These ground nesters will incubate two eggs for 16-20 days. After 17-18 additional days, young are ready to venture out!
Photo by Mike Budd/USFWS.