outdoors

I never tire of watching and listening to Canada geese, whatever stage of flight they're in, whether passing overhead at treetop level or applying the brakes like the trio pictured above.

The weather services weren't the only ones who knew a storm was coming. Wednesday, only hours before the snow began to fall, large numbers of geese began descending onto this field of cut corn.

Like all wildlife, geese are great natural barometers, always aware of imminent weather changes.

The time period just prior to inclement weather often triggers a good deal of movement. The entire time I watched, the descent of geese never let up...flock after flock dropped out of the sky like gangbusters.

In a setting reminiscent of what was perhaps waterfowling's greatest tragedy of the 20th Century, this pic reminds me of a painting titled "The Winds of Hell," depicting a scene from the Armistice Day storm of 1940. On that day ducks and geese by the thousands were pouring into the backwater sloughs and marshes along a stretch of the Mississippi River...they were seeking shelter from a coming storm, a storm that would catch waterfowlers unprepared and cost many lives. 

Despite Wednesday's storm and present cold temps, I saw numerous flocks passing overhead, none of which were so high they would appear to be in migratory flight. Maybe they'll stick around...I have no doubt they know more about the long-range forecast than the rest of us.

Geese weren't the only feathered critters getting in a major feed prior to the storm...a dozen or more turkeys were feeding in the far end of the same field. 

Frozen ground and a bit of snow would not deter the turkeys from getting in one last feed before a thick blanket of white would make foraging all but impossible.

Being it was the second week of December and no snow on the ground, I suggested to Claudia we should load up the dogs and head to the county park. And because we had Tate and Ernie along, we decided to stay off the side trails and stick to the main road.

This is one of many interconnecting trails found in the park. Despite staying on the "beaten path," there was no shortage of wildlife.

Not far from the interpretive center where we parked, this piebald doe hightailed it across the road...moments later she was followed by the fork horn pictured below.

Notice how, unlike the doe, his tail is tucked? But not all bucks think alike.....

This buck was right behind the forkhorn. Obviously older and wiser, his tail isn't tucked, but neither is it in full alarm mode. He seems somewhat tentative about our presence and he probably has other things on his mind...the action seen here suggests the second rut may be kicking into high gear.

Beech trees are prolific in this section of the park. Some of the younger beech have yet to shed their leaves.

Young spruce surviving among the hardwoods.

The headwaters of Black Creek flow through Genesee County Park. The creek will continue its northward flow through Bethany, Stafford and into Byron where it will make an eastward turn and continue into Bergen before entering Monroe County where it will eventually flow into the Genesee River.

Just downstream from the stone bridge we saw sign of beaver activity along the creek.

A dusting of snow and a thin mantle of ice wasn't about to deter J.D. Barrett and some friends from their appointed rounds, especially on a red-letter day such as this.

Beginning last January, J.D. has canoed every month in 2012 and Saturday, December 1st saw him set out on his 87th paddle of the year -- one paddle for each year of his life. The idea was suggested to him a few years ago by some of his canoeing companions, and it was those same folks who made the arrangements for Saturday's outing on Black Creek, for years one of J.D.'s favorite paddling destinations.

Though well-regarded among fellow paddlers and his fly-fishing brethren alike, J.D. Barrett shuns the spotlight and is quick to deflect attention to his fellow outdoorsmen. Maybe that's why his canoeing pals chose not to tell him Channel 10 News would be on hand to capture what they felt was certainly a milestone achievement.

One of those friends was Tony Figueredo, eagerly waiting to break the ice -- no pun intended. 

Linda Grant getting set to launch. Linda was kind enough to pass along some of her pics.

With everyone on the water, the trip upstream is about to commence.

The wintry weather posed no problem for this crew of dedicated paddlers. As Hyde Hitchcock said, "This wasn't about speed or distance -- it was about paddling with J.D."

Left to right are Dale Jones, J.D., Steve Tolle, Hyde Hitchcock and Paul Conklin. Besides his paddling gear, Hyde packed a Dutch oven and the fixings for a tasty meal on the creek bank including soup, smoked ham, baked beans, fresh biscuits and black tea.

No black flies, no mosquitoes, only a peaceful setting...

This outing marked J.D.'s second milestone of 2012. Earlier this year he and his wife, Dorothy, celebrated their 65th wedding anniversary......Congratulations on both counts, J.D.!!!!!

Jake and Jeremy Pietrzykowski came into their own as bow hunters nearly a decade ago when they stopped buying into the philosophy of other hunters and decided to go their own way. Once on their own, success was immediate and consistent. (The photo above shows Jake with son, Gunnar, and Jake's latest bow hunting trophy)

Last Tuesday I arrived home for lunch and found a piece of paper attached to our kitchen door. On it was a brief message from Jake stating that he had taken a nice buck earlier that morning and he had stopped by to show me. He also said Jeremy had taken a good buck 10 days earlier and that he was sorry he missed me.

I was sorry, too -- and I prompty called Jake, making arrangements to get together with him and Jeremy. I not only wanted to see the big whitetails they had taken, I wanted to hear the story behind the hunts.

Two nights later I listened as the brothers related their recent adventures. Sitting on Jeremy's lap is his daughter, Paityn. 

Tuesday, November 13th found Jake in his stand at first light. The day broke cloudy and cold, and it was one of those mornings when it's not snowing per se, but a definite hint of winter was in the air. 

"Every once in a while I'd get hit in the face with a snowflake," Jake said.

But the sound of an approaching deer tends to take one's mind off the cold, particularly when it's a big deer.

"I heard him breaking stuff -- he was snapping stuff as he walked," Jake continued. "The noises he made, you could tell it was a big deer. For the next  minute or so the buck was on the move, covering about 80 yards in that time while periodically stopping to check his surroundings."

Jake waited as the buck drew closer and by 7:55 the buck was within 15 yards, plenty close enough for a shot. The buck's antlers green scored 153 6/8 on the Pope & Young scale, Jake's largest bow kill to date.

Jeremy took his big whitetail on the afternoon of November 1st.

"As soon as I got in my stand I could see him rubbing trees," he said. "He was 200 yards away but I could see his white rack."

Jeremy was fairly certain of where the buck would pass by, but still not sure if he was going to shoot or let the deer walk. Just in case, he used a folding saw to remove a few branches that might interfere with a shot should he decide to take it.

"He was downwind of me for half an hour, eating the leaves off raspberry bushes and that whole time I still didn't think I was going to shoot. Then I was able to see the antler mass and the striations in the main beams. At that point I decided I was going to take him. I sweet talked him with my Tru-talker," said Jeremy, referring to his grunt call.

The buck responded immediately.

"I saw him turn, looking in my direction, but he was looking past me," he continued. "Then his tail flicked. Once that tail flicked I knew it was game on. He walked to within 15 yards." 

Read more after the jump (click on the headline):

In the low light of approaching dusk it's hard to see Jeremy silhouetted in his tree stand. And while the stand may seem a bit high, the Pietrzykowski brothers have learned that in order to consistently take big bucks, proper stand placement is an important part of getting the job done. So is patience in waiting for the right deer. The brothers let plenty of deer walk past their stands before they see one they like.

As the evening with the Pietrzykowski brothers was drawing to a close, Jake showed me into his garage where he had a collection of framed pictures. Looking at the photos I felt I was seeing a story board of Jake and Jeremy's last eight years in the deer woods. None of the deer in the photos were marginal, all were pictures of Jake and Jeremy with good bucks, sizeable whitetails, a number of which would easily qualify for the NYS Big Buck Club.

But the brothers could care less about records. Plain and simple, their passion is deer hunting, whether it's the archery or firearms season, though both prefer the former.

That's an old Fred Bear recurve mounted on the pegboard just above a photo depicting Jake with a whitetail that field dressed at 206 pounds, a memento from a time when both he and Jeremy tried their hand at traditional archery.    

Here's a quartet of Jeremy's mounts. Not counting this year's buck, he said there are three more at the taxidermist's studio awaiting completion. In addition to bowhunting, in recent years Jeremy has begun running marathons. This year he qualified for the prestigious Boston Marathon, which he plans on running in 2014. 

Until this year, this had been Jake's biggest deer taken with a bow.

This is Jake's biggest all-around, taken during a previous shotgun season.

The Pietrzykowski brothers do enjoy other aspects of nature -- Jake took this photo of a black squirrel...the first I've seen north of Route 20.

It was a pleasant visit with the Pietrzykowski brothers, whether talking about deer hunting or simply shooting the breeze. Though they are only in their 30s -- Jake is 33, Jeremy 34 -- the past eight years has seen them amass a number of good bucks. And judging from the photos and the trophy mounts, it becomes clear they employ a no-nonsense approach in their pursuit and method for consistently taking big whitetails.

Safety is every hunter's responsibility, Capt. Christopher Cummings, commander of Troop A, Batavia, told the press today, asking that the media help spread the message of hunter safety at the start of a new hunting season.

Since the 1960s, the number of hunting-related accidents in New York has decreased steadily, but that's no reason not to be as careful this year as any other year. That was the message of today's press conference.

"The important thing is that every individual hunter must realize that they have to make safety priority one when they go out into the field," Cummings said. "Every individual hunter is responsible for the integrity and reputation of hunting. They need to take the responsibility on themselves that they do carry that weight when they enter the woods with a firearm.

"It should be simple for the safety of hunters," Cummings added. "It should be simple. Every hunting incident that we investigate is preventable."

Capt. Frank Lauricella, Department of Environmental Conservation, offered several safety tips for hunters:

• Always assume a firearm is loaded;
• Make sure the muzzle is always pointed in a safe direction;
• Keep the safety on and your finger off the trigger until you're ready to fire;
• Wear hunter orange.

It's been proven, he said, that hunters wearing orange are seven times safer than those who do not.

He said it's also important to see your target clearly and what's beyond your target.

"It's very important to remember that once you discharge you cannot call back that projectile," Lauricella said.

Daybreak at Pcionek's woods

Claudia spotted this whitetail along the edge of an Oakfield woodlot...with the rut kicking into high gear the bucks have been on the move.

Reflective pool in an Elba woodland

Vestige of October's foliage

This ringneck pheasant was sauntering along the side of the road and stopped long enough for Claudia to take its picture before hightailing it into dense cover.

A hardwoods and spent milkweed pods separated by a foggy shroud

Clouds reflected on a small stream

Redtail hawk surveying its domain

We came across this historic marker on West Barre Road.

Sunset viewed from Mudrzynski's hill in Oakfield

The classical look of Canada geese descending onto their feeding ground has inspired many a wildlife artist. While this is merely the last stage of their flight, in each of the previous phases their movement is filled with purpose.

Being in close proximity to the grain fields, this autumn we've witnessed a great deal of the geese coming and going, often hearing the faint telltale call of the Canadas before we spot them. Scanning the sky we locate them, sometimes so far off in the distance where they seems to be hardly more than an obscure smudge on the sky.

Wings firmly fixed in place, the initial stage of descent begins...

What appears to be a holding pattern is a steady drop in altitude...

Things appear okay on the ground, wings cupped, a slight turn and continue descent... 

By the looks of things, the coast is clear, no danger in sight.

Seconds from touchdown and a veritable feast in the cornfield.

Last Thursday morning I had my pickup backed up to the launch at Churchville Park, and I was jawing with another canoeist, who, like myself, was waiting for his paddling partner. My partner showed up within minutes and before I was able to slide my canoe out of the pickup, another vehicle pulled up, stopped in front of the launch and a voice from inside said something to the effect of, "You gonna unload that thing and move so the rest of us can launch?" When I looked up I saw old friend and outdoor enthusiast J.D. Barrett grinning like the Cheshire Cat. This promised to be a good day.

Black Creek has long been a favorite among the canoe and kayak crowd and a paddle along Black Creek can be aesthetically pleasing to the eye most anytime of year. Come autumn however, the waterway provides a trip that is downright picturesque and it is especially alluring during the month of October.

Beech and oak trees dominated the creek bank along this stretch.

There were maples found here and there along the bank.

Normally on his day off former Batavian Mike Keil can be found on the tennis court or golf course. But this day he opted for a canoe trip along the Black, our second such venture of the year. 

The fella on the right is avid canoeist and flyfisherman J.D. Barrett and on the left is his paddlin' partner, Hyde Hitchcock. This pair has logged an incredible amount of time on the waterways over the years. It was J.D. who first introduced me to canoeing the Black many years ago.

Wherever we looked the shoreline was mirrored perfectly in the water.

On the creek bank in the "middle of nowhere" a swing seat for two hangs from a colorful beech tree.

More after the jump (click the headline):

Mike's wry grin suggests he doesn't believe me when I tell him a pair of dragonflies landed on his shoulder. They were there a second ago...honest!

Streak-winged red skimmers

Hyde and J.D. heading upstream in their solo canoes........

and stopping for a snack beneath some hemlocks.

While a good deal of foliage had already fallen, there was still plenty of color along the creek.

Like the rest of us, this painted turtle is enjoying the balmy autumn day.

After passing below Route 19, we entered the Bergen Swamp. Here the creek began to narrow and the the foliage was all but depleted.    

We saw several herons along our route.

For the duration of our trip I was fascinated with the mirror images on the placid surface.

Quite a mix of trees along the bank including evergreens and hardwoods.

All things considered -- scenery, weather and companions -- it was an exceptional outing.

Whether they be red, orange, yellow or a combination thereof, maples are among my autumn favorites.

Here's a colorful and placid stretch of Celery Brook.

This doe as she was about to cross Old Creek Road when she stopped long enough to get her picture taken.

Twin oaks stand guard at the edge of Pcionek's woods.

Canada geese passing overhead

A pair of aged maples at the edge of a cattail swamp

Roadside red clover bud

Each year about this time, like clockwork, wood ducks descend on a stretch of the Tonawanda Creek where it flows behind our home. The wood ducks feel right at home there, dabbling on the acorns which fall from the red oaks lining the bank.

No doubt they also are drawn to the calm, flat water and abundant shoreline vegetation. Overhanging bushes and vines provide ample cover.

Along the narrow corridor of Tonawanda Creek it's not difficult to see wood ducks during the month of October. In fact, I expect to see them whenver I walk to the creek bank, or at the very least, hear that unique call they make -- some might call it a squeal while others say it's more like a high-pitched whistle/whine.  

Taking pics of wood ducks on Tonawanda Creek is one thing, the wide open spaces of the Oak Orchard Wildlife Management Area is another story. The sloughs and backwaters here are ideal for ducks, but the place is so vast, it's easy to be in one place while the ducks are in another.

Tailor-made as this place is, on this morning I had seen only a handful of ducks, all moving too fast and too far away for photos. When I saw the stick nest pictured above, I decided to zoom in. 

That's when I saw the ducks in the background, rapidly dropping in altitude and heading for the flooded timber.

Is it mere coincidence that one of the most colorful species of waterfowl is on hand during that part of the autumn season when foliage is tinted to the max?

While wood ducks are among the first waterfowl to arrive, they will also be among the first to depart for warmer climes. As I watched the wood ducks swim back and forth among floating leaves on the creek behind our home, I knew that all too soon they will be winging it southward for an extended period of time. 

Whatever the species, be it wood duck or mallard, canvasback or Canada goose, there is graceful symmetry in the flight of waterfowl, and something sublime in a creature that beats its wings an incredible number of times each minute at altitudes and for distances that boggle the mind.

Today, Marty McDonald invited me out to his place in Stafford for his annual trap shoot and chili feast.

McDonald said the event started a few years ago with just him and about four friends and over the years, more and more people asked to be invited.

Today, there were a few dozen people at his place mostly shooting and enjoying a huge spread of chili, soups, grilled chicken, meatballs, sausage and a variety of desserts.

Not all of the shooters were interested in shotguns and clay birds. McDonald also provided a pistol range.

The only thing I shot was my camera.

More photos after the jump (click on the headline):

If you've spent any time outdoors in the past couple of weeks, chances are you've noticed the telltale coloration of Virginia creeper off in the distance, whether in the hedgerows or the edges of woodlots. 

Often mistaken for poison ivy, Virginia creeper, aka parthenocissus quinquefolia, is a prolific climber.

Also called "five finger" because of the number of leaves per cluster, Virginia creeper's vivid shades of red and burgundy start to appear well ahead of the peak autumn foliage colors.

Maybe it's me, but this year the colorful vine seems to be permeating the countryside, its colors more resplendent than in years past.   

Whether hiking or driving, it has been hard to take my eyes off of it -- and numerous times over the past couple of weeks I've heard Claudia say, "Watch the road!"

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One thing I haven't spent enough time doing is exploring the Iroquois National Wildlife Refuge -- what a great resource for Genesee County.

Prior to the public hearing in Alabama Thursday night, I headed out to the refuge a few hours ahead of time with the specific idea of going to a part of the park I'd seen previously and thought was quite scenic. It's actually in Orleans County, but hey, most of the refuge in in Genesee County. I believe the area is called Ridgeneck Ringneck Marsh. It's off Oak Orchard Ridge Road, which is in the northern part of the refuge.

Here are the pictures I took.

BTW: Not that any of these pictures are worthy of entry, but entries are being accepted now for the Friends of Iroquois NWR photo contest. The deadline is Sept. 1, 2013.

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Out in the open, this pair of whitetail does little more than give me a passing glance before going about their business of feeding.

This female, hardly concerned with my presence, is about to continue her browsing.

She pays no attention whatsoever to a sizable flock of boisterous blackbirds. Early autumn can be a great time to spot deer feeding in open fields, but a change in terrain can result in limited sighting opportunites.

Whitetails are skulkers, and in woodlands and dense brush one needs to keep an eye peeled for a flicker of movement, like maybe a twitching tail. I waited a considerable time for this deer to raise its head, curious to see if it was sporting antlers.

Once positioned between a pair of hawthorn trunks I was able to make out an antlerless head. Its a doe, craning her neck for a backward glimpse.

A beautiful fall afternoon, I thought I would stop by Godfrey's Pond and see what picture-making opportunities I might find. Mother Nature still has some work to do with her fall palette, but things are coming along nicely.

It could be they were staging for an autumn migration, but whatever the reason, upwards of three dozen great egrets had gathered in one area of the Tonawanda Wildlife Management Area last Friday.

The egrets took a liking to this narrow strip of water, all but hidden by a large expanse of cattails. At a distance, the egrets are barely discernable, appearing as tiny white dots on the water in the middle of the photo.  

Evidently the location teemed with one or both of the egret's favorite food sources - small fish and frogs.

Judging from the movement of the large wading birds...

it would seem there was an ample supply of food in all directions.

Not far away, east of Route 77, dabbling ducks were having a feast of their own in Mohawk Pool on the Iroquois National Wildlife Refuge. Mallards, pintails, green- and blue-winged teal, and widgeon were on hand for an aquatic feed.

The food supply must have been both tasty and plentiful because the ducks seemed more intent on eating than breathing - no matter where you looked, the ducks' heads were submerged..........that little fella on the right was one of the few exceptions (maybe he was full). 

It was a good morning, the next to last day of summer and capped off with this egret on the fly. 

I didn't have to go far to get a photo of this dragonfly, called a twelve-spot skimmer. Apparently it was temporarily grounded by an early morning chill. It flew off when I attempted to scoop it up in my hand.

A white-tailed dragonfly clings to a wild grape vine.

A pearl crescent butterfly spreads its wings.

This marshy stream flows through one our preferred outdoor haunts.

This is our chocolate lab, Tate...

Obviously, this is one of his favorite places to cavort!

A raft of waterfowl, many of them black ducks, take a midday break.

A narrow portion of the stream where it passes through heavy brush.

With a nut clenched firmly in its jaws, this gray squirrel was scurrying on a fallen log when it stopped to relieve an itch.

This small cluster of cedar waxwings was part of a larger flock that recently descended on a nearby meadow. Whether they came to feast on wild grapes or poke berries, I couldn't say, but they were present in large numbers. And that is how they travel, arriving by the hundreds to feast on ripe berries. 

A closeup of the above photo reveals one of the birds preening below its left wing.

A lone waxwing on one of the uppermost branches of the tree.

And as suddenly as the cedar waxwings appear, they will leave the same way, quickly vacating an area once they've exhausted the food supply. The speciman above momentarily enjoys the sun...

before deciding to preen its feathers.

One late summer/early autumn many years ago, I was paddling on the Tonawanda when I witnessed firsthand the massive flock movements of foraging cedar waxwings. I was a quarter mile upstream from our home in an area where ancient black willows line both banks, their uppermost branches forming a canopy over the creek. Wild grape vines had scaled many of those trees, making their way into the branches high above the water.

On that quiet and sunny day I remember hearing a rustling noise, much like a snake makes as it crawls through dry leaves. Anyway, looking around and not seeing anything, I finally looked up. There must have been dozens, if not hundreds of cedar waxwings gorging themselves on the wild grapes. I found it to be quite an outdoor moment and obviously I've not forgotten it...I doubt I ever will.

The green heron pictured above appears to be doing its hunting in a grassy field but that is probably not the case. Never one to venture far from their favored haunts, the small stream barely visible behind the heron is probably where it was hunting before being disturbed.

After taking flight, the heron flew only a short distance before coming to rest on some dead branches.

Dead tree limbs overlooking marshy confines and surrounded by thick brush or cattails makes for a preferred hunting location for the green heron.

The heron has something in its sights and begin to crane its neck forward.

Its neck fully extended, the green heron is on full alert.

Great blue herons, along with great white herons, are the largest of the heron family. Mostly seen wading the edges of small streams and marshes, this great blue heron opted for an aerial view from a dead tree.  

This is the marsh bordering the hedgerow of dead timber where the heron is situated. Whether he's simply resting or watching for prey, it has a great view of its wetland haunt.

Ever vigilant, the great blue looks to the west...

before looking to the east...

with nothing in sight, it takes a moment for a bit of preening.