The American Bittern is more than two feet in length and yet can hide in almost thin air, standing vertically. It stands amongst the bulrushes as tall as it can be, sways with them when there is a breeze, and its feathers are the colors that make it just disappear. It doesn’t do this sneak up and prey and catch it, I think it does it because it’s fun. I’m sure one of two gets snatched by aerial predators, but it forages like other herons and bitterns. One when caught out in the open, it appears to be like a kid with his fingers caught in the cookie jar. I don’t get them in the lens very often, wish I did. It’s a great bird, the elusive, gorgeous American Bittern.

The process is simply, amazing! We’re coming up on nesting time when birds select with logic only understood by them to build a nest, lay eggs, and raise the next generation. They know the risks their eggs will endure, with heat from the sun being right at the top of the list. And yet, they build nests in the sun. This is partly because of their size and ease of access and escape. So they have developed strategies to deal with it. The parents, for example, lie on the eggs assuring a constent temp for incubation. And when that temp gets too warm, they stand to let a breeze in while shading the eggs. They tenderly turn the eggs as well, in part, to regulate heat. They do this without the aid of an egg timer! Mother Nature is amazing and it knows the sun can be death!

It wasn’t that cold, perhaps 25-27degrees (F). The Bison had no crusties on them, what morning hoar frost that might have formed was long gone in the beaming sun. The bull was part of a small group of Bison moving from one foraging area to another. Even with the warm temps, I was hoping that the exertion might create a couple of big breaths of “steam” once he reached the top. We traveled to the top of the grade and waited. Not only did I need the bull to be breathing hard for any hope of seeing his breath, but I also needed it to not be locked by the other Bison and at the same time, the breath staying in front of his body. Any breath in front of the snow would disappear against the white. I so lucked out! After about a twenty-minute wait, the group came up, and at the end, he was clear, and the breeze took the breath in front of his dark body. He wasn’t mad, just tuckered!

At times, it seems that’s what they are expressing, unless you were there to know the BTS. In this case, this small group of American Bison was on the move in Yellowstone’s Hayden Valley. We came upon them at the bottom of a grade, and we could barely see their breath cause it was 18 degrees, bloody warm! They were heading up a hill though and like any other critter, exerting themselves to climb a hill. I knew when they reached the top, they would be breathing hard. So the snowcoach took us to the top of the grade, where there was a pull off. And there we waited for about thirty minutes. Then they came up and sure enough, they were panting, and the steam was bellowing. But the cow’s eyes seem to same, where have you been?

In the winter, the Red Fox has the most luxurious coat. Its color again, snow takes on a whole step deeper hue. The combination makes it a critter to seek and find. In the west, that is easier said than done. Yellowstone, in certain years, makes the possibility a near slam dunk, and from what I’m hearing, this could be one of those years. They are smart, they can be wary, so a little time looking and waiting is a must. Then, and this is critical, let them come to you. They will if you give them time, and that’s the key. They don’t like being pushed, a classic case of don’t be in a hurry to get nothing. So, I’ve got the time and eyes, so thinking a Red Fox may be in my future. Fingers crossed.

The Black-capped Chickadees seemed as excited as I to see the snow falling! I had to venture to Sax-Zim Bog in MN to find it, and after three days of temp 60 degrees warmer than normal, it was a blessing. We moved to snow country decades ago in part to photograph birds in falling snow. Inspired long ago by a photo I saw of a Cardinal in falling snow, I’ve been capturing it ever since. We were already to chase that photo again this year at The Ranch but, we have no snow, none! The chickadee seemed to be saying what I was saying, what’s that falling?