When last I left you, I had missed finding the Horned Lark in Tsawassen three separate times. The next day, the 19th, was a Saturday, and I decided to go out to Iona to look for a Rock Wren that had been seen there.

I was already out the door of my condo and on my way to my car when I got a call from Walter, a fellow birder-photographer. He knew I had been looking for the lark was calling to let me know that he and Colin (another of the birding crew) were standing on the jetty in Tsawassen and had the bird right in front of them. So I changed my plans and headed out to Tsawassen.

About 25 minutes later, I arrived, just as Walter and Colin were leaving. They pointed me towards Rick (yet another birder), saying that the bird was there in front of him along with three Snow Buntings. I set up my tripod next to Rick's and started snapping photos. The first birds I saw were the Snow Buntings, so I took their photos. It was foggy out, but still quite light, and we were close enough to the birds that the photos didn't show the fog.

Here's one of the Snows.

I suspect that the buntings were three of the six that I had seen the day before, but unfortunately they hadn't stayed around long enough for me to ask them.

I turned to go back to my car, but stopped when I noticed a boat being followed by a small flock of gulls. It looked to be a crabbing boat (I think those are crab traps on the back), and the gulls were following in its wake. I don't know what was exciting them so, but they kept flying up behind the boat and plopping into the water there...maybe the boat was chumming, or they were cleaning the caught crabs and dumping the refuse into the water.

Anyhow, after that, I did make it back to my car and headed on to Iona.

When I got there, I went to the beach in front of the washrooms. There was a heron on a log there, but as I set up to take its photo, some folks coming the other way flushed him. I did manage to get a flight photo or two, though.

My objective was to find the Rock Wren, so I prepared myself for the second jetty of the day. The wren was supposedly most of the way out on the south jetty, and it was a bit cold, so I wrapped myself up pretty well. Then I grabbed all my camera gear and set out.

Just after the bend, which is only 100 meters or so from the start, I noticed a loon on the south side of the jetty. With my bare eyes, I first thought it was a Western Grebe, but with binoculars and camera its neck was obviously too thick. I didn't have my guide book with me, so I had to wait until later to confirm that I had found my lifer Red-throated Loon.

Like many birds named for color features, in some plumages the Red-throated Loon doesn't show that feature. This is one of those plumages, where the Red-throated Loon has a white throat.

Okay...warning....the next photo is graphic. Skip if you're squeamish.

At this point, I should have figured out what was up, but I didn't realize until he flew by that he had some prey and had probably been checking to make sure he wouldn't be too molested while he flew with it. The coast must have appeared to be clear, so he flew out, along with a partial bird carcass.

Maybe my coming along had scared him off the prey, and after I had passed, he went back to retrieve it.

Anyhow, after briefly lighting on the pipe again, he flew off into the fog with his prize and I didn't see him again.

About this time, some cyclists came along on the gravel road.

He stuck around for quite a while, occasionally sticking his head up and watching me. I must've looked funny with my tripod and camera.

At the end of the jetty, about four kilometers out, there is a building with three "smokestacks", and as I reached this building, I came down off the pipe. I immediately noticed a bird dash behind the port-a-potty that's out there. Not wanting to intrude on his privacy, I waited a minute. But then, curiousity got the better of me and I snuck to the other side and found that it was a Varied Thrush. In this photo of him, the fog is sapping his bright color a bit.

He let me get a few shots and then went on his way.

I hung around the end of the jetty for 45 minutes or so, looking for that Rock Wren. I didn't find him, but in the meantime I took some photos of the ducks that were out there. Here's a foggy, but still easily identifiable, Red-breasted Merganser.

While I was at the tip, I chatted with a couple of folks who were also fortunate enough to have walked the jetty in the fog. It was such a lovely time. I described my Quest for Wren to one fellow, and a few details about what a wren looks like and some photography stuff. He stuck around a while looking for the bird and chatting, but soon even he tired of the sport and headed on.

Soon after that, the chill and the damp and the wind were getting to me, so I decided to follow. I had heard that the wren was out at the tip, so it was a bit disheartening to leave. As I headed around the port-a-potty, though, the fellow I had talked to was headed back my way, saying he saw what he thought was my bird on the pipe.

So I headed up the pipe with him, and we passed most of the more-heavily-vegetated part before he points at some motion. We're back to about where I had seen the Golden-crowned Kinglet, and I fairly soon determine that we indeed had found the kinglet again. It was a bird of about the right size, with a whitish stripe above the eye, and he was difficult to get a clear look at (as is often the case with those hyperactive little kinglets)...so I can't fault the fellow for thinking he might have found the wren.

However, he did say that the bird he saw was a bit further back along the pipe, so after a short walk further, I bid him adieu and went back to comb the area once more.

Just as the three smokestacks were resolving themselves out of the fog, I spotted some motion on the left part of the pipe, and saw a bird fly down onto the rocks on the south side. I slid down the pipe and went looking for the bird. It showed its head once more, and, perhaps seeing me, quickly flitted away. I gave chase, and eventually found the little bugger. In short order, he had flown over to a rather large log, posing in the perfect place.

And that was him...my lifer Rock Wren in the hollow of a piece of driftwood. That photo alone was worth the long walk and the cold. But he stayed around a while, apparently deciding that I was not much of a threat. Here he is a little closer, but a little blurrier, too. The low light levels meant that I had to use a high ISO setting on my camera, leading to a grainy photo.

He then flew even closer, to this rock. You know, going from one rock to the next on the jetty is a small step for a man,

..but it's a giant leap for wrenkind.

I lost track of the cute l'il feller when I had to change memory cards in my camera, and I wasn't able to relocate him. I said my thanks to him, hoping he was still in earshot, and headed back east, buoyed by the encounter.

A little ways further down, I ran into a Golden-crowned Kinglet; I don't know if it was the same one, but this one was on the ground by the gravel road, not on the pipe. I got some decent photos of him when he stopped to nibble on these flowers. I can understand his attraction to these ones; they're color-coordinated with him.

One thing I learned about the plumage of the Golden-crowned Kinglet that day: there's a little orange bit at the back of the yellow crown.

They also look pretty darned cool when you get a direct frontal view.

Soon, the light had gotten very dim, and no further photos were possible. I made it home sore, cold, tired, and quite happy at having found my target and a couple of non-target lifers.

Finding a birdy way to enjoy even a foggy day,
Tom