Dancing in the sky

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Late winter, 2011 ~

The overcast sky was seamless, leaving no specific point of entry for the sun. But at the same time, the cloud cover was light, like a veil. The snow white sky was a perfect match for the linen of fresh snow that had fallen the night before.

As if nature had painted this canvas to serve as a stage for their grand entrance, a pair of Trumpeter Swans broke over the horizon, toward the point where I sat on the river’s edge. They flew like well-choreographed dancers, so well synchronized that I if my imagination was at work.

As if to provide an encore, the duo made a wide circle over the treetops. From my vantage point, it looked as if they were flying arm-in-arm. I'm glad my camera lens saw it the same way, or surely no one would believe it.
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© 2011 Mike Anderson, St. Michael, MN. All rights reserved.

A home on the St. Croix

Summer, 2007 ~

The collection of branches were too well organized to be placed there accidentally by the wind or water, so I paddled over for a closer look.  As the details came into view, it occurred to me that I had happened across a well-built development.  What seemed like a row of well-placed sticks was actually a beaver dam, held together by mud and tree limbs of various sizes.  It was holding back a considerable pond of water from rains that had fallen earlier in the week.  

In the background--and strategically placed in the shade--a home for these amazing engineers.   

© 2007 – 2011, Mike Anderson.  All rights reserved.

River of glass

Autumn 2007 ~

I had paddled my kayak across a wide expanse on the flooded St. Croix River. Pausing for a break on the other side, I had a moment to look back… where it seemed as if the path I had just taken was covered in glass.

Utterly quiet.  Totally pristine.  As if serenity herself had posed for my camera.


© 2007 - 2011 Mike D. Anderson. All rights reserved.

Staring into sunrise

Summer 2007 ~

The morning chill was my wake-up call; able to get dressed and grab my camera without waking Julie, I headed for the river. The sun was just rising, and I wanted to meet it.

There is an island on the St. Croix River near Interstate Park.  With rapids in the foreground and geese in the distance, it was the perfect place for a Great Blue Heron to join me… staring into sunrise.

(Click any image to enlarge it.)

© 2007 - 2011 Mike D. Anderson. All rights reserved.

Minnehaha Falls

Summer, 2011 ~

The water dropped over Minnehaha Falls with such power that clouds of vapor were forced upward; it was a heavy, hair-lifting breeze that you could actually see, because of the moisture it carried.

They call it a creek… but I think it much more powerful than that.

© 2011 Mike Anderson. All rights reserved.

Visit from a deer friend

Summer 2011 ~

Finding the time to get onto the river or into the woods has been difficult this year. So, Sunday afternoon, I was most pleased when something moving made me look up from my computer, and out the office window. Something had moved through the tall grass in the meadow. I grabbed my camera and went up to the deck to wait for the critter to surface. I didn’t wait long, as a doe came into the clearing near a tree, and lifted her head above the brush.

When you haven’t had time to go visit old friends, it is nice when they come to visit you.

© 2011 Mike D. Anderson. All rights reserved.

Reeds of red

Autumn, 2009 ~

Both the land and water are wonderful artists; when they collaborate, though, their works can be amazing.  This day, I came across a large patch of willow branches that had been bleached of their color by the receding water... and Mother Nature adds yet another fine work to her gallery.

© 2009 – 2011, Mike Anderson. All rights reserved.

Turtle-saurus

Summer, 2009 ~

In this part of the country, I'm told a snapping turtle can grow to thirty or forty pounds.  This one was sunning himself on a rock in the middle of the Crow River.  It looked as if he was outgrowing even his impressively large shell.  That, along with his long tail and threatening claws, made it easy to imagine that his lineage could be traced directly to the age of dinosaurs. 

© 2009 – 2011, Mike Anderson. All rights reserved.

Final approach

Late winter, 2011 ~

In mid-flight, Trumpeter Swans soar with grace.  But their landings appear less choreographed and more... well, clumsy.

After circling their landing pad several times to make sure no predators are waiting nearby, they glide toward the water that will serve as their runway. Their wings are fully extended, so as to create the maximum surface area; the wind resistance will serve to place the giant bird gently into the water.

If you look closely (click to enlarge), you'll notice that this Swan's tail feathers actually touch before its webbed feet... as if to feel the surface just before impact, and sense the precise moment to tuck into a floating position.

© 2011 Mike Anderson, St. Michael, MN. All rights reserved.

Spring blues

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Spring, 2011 ~

Some of the waterfowl we see in Minnesota spends part of its winter in the areas most affected by the BP oil spill of last year. When the herons and egrets left last fall, I worried their nesting places would be filled with toxins, and that few might survive to return.

Apparently, my worry was ill-founded; at various times this afternoon, there were groups of three to five Great Blue Herons gathering the wetland behind our house.

It is good to see you, blue.

Mike

© 2011 Mike Anderson, St. Michael, MN. All rights reserved.

Here's looking at you

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Summer, 2007 ~

As fun as it is to study the wildlife one sees while paddling the Mississippi River, it is just as fun when that wildlife studies you.

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One hot July afternoon, I passed a gaggle of geese, the younger of which found me an interesting critter to be floating along the river.

© 2007 - 2011 Mike Anderson, St. Michael, MN. All rights reserved.

Spreading his wings

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Midwinter, 2009-2010 ~
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It is amazing how swiftly the water can move, even on a channel as narrow as the Crow River, and even though the water is covered with ice. But the webbed feet of a Trumpeter Swan are equal to the fast current, allowing the birds swim in place in the open water beneath the bluff just east of town.

They gather in this spot because of the open water, and because a friend of mine, Curt Oien, helps them survive the harsh winter with handfuls of dried corn. (Fact is, Curt can go through hundreds of pounds of corn each winter, lugging it down to the riverbank in five-gallon painter’s pails.)

On this morning, the winter cold had its usual bitterness, but the air was tolerable for lack of wind. We watched the birds for nearly an hour, long enough to see the abundant grace and elegance that Trumpeters are known for.

Just as we were about to depart, the Trumpeter’s too, began to take flight… blasting their trademark salutes as if to say, “Thanks for breakfast, Curt. See you tomorrow?” I glanced back—camera at the ready—to take one more look before heading up the hill. A light snow had fallen the night before, covering the rocks and ice chunks on the opposing bank, and creating the illusion of clouds in the background. Just then, the dominant Trumpeter spread his wings in one final display of pageantry.

Mike

[Editor’s note: This photo is the winner in the wildlife category of the 2010 Crow River Organization of Water photography contest. To see other winners and runners-up, visit the C.R.O.W. website by clicking here. It is the second consecutive year that one of our photographs has been so recognized; last year’s winner was our shot of a deer, “Cooling Off in the Crow River.”]

© 2010-2011 Mike Anderson, St. Michael, MN. All rights reserved.