Posts in Category: Otters

Hank Comes Through, Otters Romp, and a Late Look at the Eastons

On September 27, 2026 - Herons, Loons, Otters, Wildlife Photography

Hank teased me along the river this week. And when I went to visit the Eastons, the otters were romping around the pond.

The Vermont North By Hand Tour is coming up fast. Artists around the Upper Valley will be exhibiting. Some in their studios. Those of us without a proper studio have to make other plans. I’ll be set up at Sue Martin’s Farm on Route 5 on the Bradford – Fairlee town line. The tour map online still isn’t updated, but trust me, that’s where I’ll be. Sue will be showing off her stained glass and Carole Kitchel Bellew will be set up with her ceramic art. The map of the other artists is here. The tour is a great way to spend the day. Hope to see you there.

Wednesday evening I wasn’t feeling very energetic. It seemed like a nice evening to sit on the deck and finish my book. But one of the downsides of being a photographer is that you have to get going and, well, photograph things. The weather was perfect and I couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse to not go visit Hank, et al.

As I was putting the boat in the river, a lady paddled upstream. She said Hank was ‘just around the corner.’ He’d moved on by the time I made it around the corner. The river was pretty quiet. A couple northern flickers were chatting. And a green heron flew downstream, squawking as he went. I took the boat into the marsh to the section of shore that I’ve had such great luck finding the herons. There were a couple painted turtles basking. And starlings everywhere in the reeds. But no herons.

I sat and waited a bit. Still no herons. There was a cloud on the horizon and the sun was heading behind it. There was still time to work on that book. I headed home.

As I got back to the river, Hank flew in and landed in the shadows just upstream. There was a patch of sun along the shore between us and another upstream where the shore juts out a bit. I figured the odds were low of Hank cooperating and moving into the sun. But I waited. The sun came back out – barely above the hill. Hank did the inscrutable heron thing and stood stock still staring into the water.

The sun was almost gone before Hank moved. But he did. He headed upstream and stood on the edge of the patch of sun. I started shooting. I got off several shots. When I got home and checked the timestamps on the photos, Hank was in the sun 42 seconds between my first shot and when the sun disappeared. So, I got one photo. But entirely worth it! One of the nicest shots I’ve made all year. And a contender for the heron exhibit I’m working on.

Hank worked his way back downstream towards me, stalking something. And facing me. Suddenly he turned and struck right behind where he was standing. This would have been an amazing photo if we could see his face. Herons giveth and herons taketh away. I headed home, eager to see if the sunlight shot had worked.

Thursday was another nice evening. As I tossed the boat on the car, I noticed bees working on the last of the asters along the drive.

The bees are western honey bees (I think!).

There were several dozen bees and more insects working the flowers.

One more bee on one more aster. I headed down to the river.

No sign of Hank or his cronies as I went downstream. I poked around the marsh looking in all the nooks and crannies. And came up empty. Not a heron to be found.

The colors across the river were well turned. I headed home without anything to show for the effort.

Friday morning I headed up to visit the Eastons. It was an invigorating 38° when I put the boat in the water. It is getting time for the adults to move on.

I paddled down the pond without seeing any loons. I turned around and came back up the pond. Without seeing any loons.

The colors along the shore were nice and the mist added some nice atmosphere. I began to fear that I was to strike out again. Then the romp of four otters appeared.
They were busy feeding. The Eastons seem to have crayfish as a larger part of their diet than the other loon families I follow. I’ve wondered for years if there was a larger than normal population of crayfish or if the Eastons just preferred them to fish. The otters never had to dive long before resurfacing. And every meal I could identify was a crayfish. Sounds like a clue that crayfish may be easy pickings on the pond.


Almost all of my encounters with otters over the years were brief. The otters would pop out of the water, stretch their necks up, PFFFFTTTTT at me and disappear. This morning, they didn’t seem to care that I was out and about. They went about ottering with me trying to keep up. Here, two climb out on some rocks while waiting for the other two to catch up.
When the others caught up, the romp headed down the shore and went ashore. Otters don’t poop in the water. They climb out and use one of several ‘latrines’ the romp has established around the pond. These guys climbed out and went up in the brush – I suspect they needed the bathroom. Every once in a while, one would appear in this clear spot on the bank. I think he’s checking to see if I’m still hanging out.

After a few minutes, they headed back out for more breakfast. They travel quickly. And they stay very close together.


And they change direction often and for no apparent reason.

And they’re prone to diving together.

Oops, this guy took a wrong turn underwater and is looking to see where his buddies went.
When they surface, they seem to exchange information. Perhaps sharing their favorite fishing hole?
One last look at the otters.

While I was watching the otters, Mom appeared with one of the chicks in hot pursuit.

The chick is capable of taking care of himself at this point. This one was still practicing his calls this morning (I didn’t hear him practice yodeling, so it may be she.)

But Mom was willing to come up with breakfast. The chick wasn’t going to pass that up. Crayfish yet again.

Mom delivering another crayfish.

And again with a crayfish.
And yet another crayfish. Enjoy this while you can, kid.

As soon as the chick swallowed his meal, he went after Mom to convince her he wanted more.

The chicks aren’t at all gentle. I’m surprised the parents don’t correct them when they get particularly aggressive.

Mom took a few minutes to preen – with the chick poking and prodding her as she did. She finished with a nice stretch. That’s the chick under her left wing.

Mom went back to feeding. It was time for me to head in. There was no sign of Dad on the pond. He hasn’t been there the last few visits. I suspect he headed out a little early for some rest. And I never found the second chick. That chick seemed to be a bit ahead in development. Again I’d bet he’s taken off to explore the world.

I hope everyone is well above water level. The nor’easter can’t decide if it is going to do much in Vermont or not. The wind picks up and dies down and we’ve had a few sprinkles. So far, not much to talk about. Hopefully it stays that way for everyone.

, , ,

Easton Chicks Try to Fly, Herons Here & There

On September 20, 2026 - Egrets, Herons, Loons, Otters, Shorebirds, Wildlife Photography

The Easton chicks have decided to fly and I visited the coast to see what I could find.

The Vermont North By Hand Open Studio Tour is coming up. The tour will be on October 10 & 11 from 10 to 5 each day. My tiny office isn’t much to see, so Sue Martin – the stained glass maker – has offered to let me set up at her farm. The Martin Farm is on Route 5, right on the Bradford – Fairlee town line. The VTNBH map isn’t yet correct, but here’s a map to Sue’s: Martin Farm Bradford, VT. Please stop in to check out Sue’s stained glass and my set up.

The calendars for Oscar’s Memorial Dog Park will be going to the printer soon. We’ve been using Printing Center USA for our calendars. Give them a look.

Last weekend, I headed down to the coast. I caught up with a friend and our first stop was the egret roost in Seabrook.

The roost hosts mostly great egrets along with a large group of snowy egrets. When I visited, there were a couple glossy ibis and cormorants mixed in as well. I asked Grok to count the birds in a photo, it came up with 173 great egrets and 53 snowy egrets. And that was after a sizable number had already left. Birders posting on the NH Birds list often count over 300.

The roost isn’t a great way to photograph the birds; they arrive after the sun starts setting and get on their way before it rises. And they’re back far enough in the swamp to be hidden by the trees.

As the light brightened, there were lots of egrets flying.

They headed off in all directions.

After the flock had headed out for the day, we headed for Plum Island. Where we found lots of egrets. As the tide went out, the egrets, cormorants and lots of wading birds were feeding on the fish still in the shallow water.


After breakfast, they all came ashore to preen.

We walked down the beach to see what we might find. There was a large flock of gulls and a couple dozen semipalmated sandpipers.

We watched the sandpipers feed for a time before heading back up the Island to see who else might be around.

There were lots of egrets working the salt marsh – mostly too far away to be photographed. This guy didn’t get the memo to stay away.

A trio of Hudsonian whimbrels landed out in the tall grass – almost too far for photos.

Another great egret that didn’t get the memo to stay out of camera range.

We headed north to check out the Maine Coast. We got some nice walks in, but found nothing to photograph.

The next morning, I visited the egret roost again before wandering up the coast. In Rye, I found Hank Heron and a small flock of egrets and a larger flock of lesser yellowlegs foraging in a shallow tidal pool.

Hank, the great blue heron, was overseeing the action. All the birds were rapidly catching the small fish that made a poor career choice to stay in the pool when the tide went out.

Hank showing off his boardinghouse reach. The other birds in the pool were respectful of Hank, and didn’t get very close to his pointy end. They’d walk well out of his reach or behind him when they wanted to go by.

There was a pair of snowy egrets that couldn’t get along. They’d squabble when they got too close to one another. This one is still fluffed up after displaying while chasing his nemesis away. Hank was watching the fish.

It looks like Hank has gathered his flock together for a sermon. What would a heron sermon be about? Zen and the Art of Catching Fish?

If Hank had been talking about everybody getting along, the egrets didn’t get the message. This pool just wasn’t big enough for the both of them.

This egret is still all puffed up after the kerfuffle. I’m not sure I’d want to mess with him.

Hank and one of the egrets seemed to have cleaned out the larder at this end of the pool and are headed to the other end to see what’s down there for snacks.

I spent over an hour on my belly in the marsh watching this group. And getting soggy. After a change of clothes, I continued on north then west to head home.

Last Tuesday checked in on the Eastons. The chicks were about 11 weeks old – time for them to be trying to fly. I’d been watching for them to try on my last few visits. They didn’t cooperate.

Mom was on the pond. I didn’t find Dad, it is likely he headed to a nearby pond for some R&R. The chicks were hounding Mom to be fed. This chick is trying to remind her that she has chicks and they’re hungry.

Mom! Mom! I’m right here Mom! Mom! Mom! I’m hungry! Mom!

I’m hungry! Mom! Mom! The chicks are big enough to keep up with her now, she can’t just swim away to get a break. I’m convinced this is why the loon parents leave before the chicks – just to get some time for themselves.

Mom eventually flew several hundred yards down the pond to get away. She preened briefly before stretching.

The chicks appeared to consider actually foraging for themselves. But, the wind came up and they decided it was time to try to fly.

On the first attempt, neither chick got anywhere near airborne. But, chicks always look so proud of themselves after a good attempt. This one had a good stretch.

He took a break from trying to fly to practice his yodel. It was clearly a yodel, if a little squeaky. Biologists think the loon’s yodel gets deeper as the bird gets larger and older. That would be a good way to signal to a challenger that they’re big and tough and not to be messed with. This guy has a ways to go.

The other chick gave flying a try as well. Then came over to discuss it with his sibling.

The wind died down for a bit. The chicks foraged lazily and this one gave a good stretch.

Cruising by me while he waited for the wind to pick up again.

The wind is back up! He’s giving it another try! It was a great effort, but this was about as high as he got.

He was determined to get airborne. He swam back downwind, turned and made another try. He’s got his belly out of the water and was flying between footsteps, but couldn’t stay up.

He kept at it.

It didn’t look like this was to be the morning. He settled back down and skidded to a stop. I’m sure by the time I get back to visit, both chicks will have mastered it and will be flying as they wish.


On my way to the boat launch, I startled the quartet of otters. This pair stopped to let me know they disapproved before swimming away.

Yesterday, I went looking for Hank and the green herons in Bradford.

There looked to be only a very light fog in the valley as I packed up the car. By the time I found Hank, it had gotten thick. Hank went about finding breakfast and ignoring me. The top of the trees behind Hank were lit and were above the fog. If Hank would just wait a few minutes, there might be a great photo along here. Hank isn’t into waiting for the light. He took off downstream.

Or maybe he was just looking for a more dramatic perch….

He was relaxing and taking in the early sun. He probably wanted to warm up – I know I did. After a time, he flew a bit back upstream to get serious about finding breakfast.

There’s a stretch of river bank that borders shallow water and is relatively brush free. Hank stared at the upstream end of that stretch, I beached the boat at the sound end and hoped he’d work his way to me. Looks like he’s spotted a meal!

Well, no. He’d nabbed a stick.
He tried tasting the stick with it pointing out, pointing to the left and even pointing to the right. But, it just wasn’t very tasty. Back it went.

I’d hoped he’d work his way to me, I hadn’t expected him to walk right up to me. My 800mm lens proved to be too long. I backed up to try again.

Hank grabbed another stick….

This one was catch and release as well. Let’s face it, you can’t find sticks like Mom used to make in just any old river.

Another try…. what will he come up with this time?

This time, he came up with a tiny snack – some sort of water bug I think.

And another stick!

And one more…. The area where he was foraging has had a population of young pickerel (or relatives) hunting in there every time I’ve paddled through. I wonder if Hank was mistaking the sticks for them.

This time he put a little more effort into his strike – and came up with a small fish.

Something startled him and he jumped clear of the water.

Whatever it was, it didn’t scare him off. He promptly went back to foraging. I had to head home.

If you enjoyed this post, you can sign up with the form below to get an email when I add a new post. That’s all you’ll get, I won’t share or sell your info. And you can help me out by sharing my blog with your friends or on social media. Thanks!

, , , ,