A Brief Visit to LaSalle Park and Marina

"In every walk with nature one receives far more then he seeks."

John Muir

27 November, 2024 

     Miriam had business to do in Burlington so we decided to make use of our time there and do a little birding. We spent about an hour and half at LaSalle and enjoyed it very much.

     November has been remarkably mild and unusually sunny, and today was no exception. The temperature was around 4 degrees with bright sunshine.

     It struck us that everywhere was incredibly green, extraordinary for a month usually characterized by gloom and miserable weather, and brown, withered stalks of limp vegetation.

     One of the first birds we spotted was this juvenile Mute Swan (Cygnus olor) and wondered why it was alone. Generally, families stay together, the young still having much to learn before assuming independence next spring.

     We had not gone far when a friendly White-breasted Nuthatch (Sitta carolinensis) decided to keep us company, all the while chattering to us. I must make a point to learn "Nuthatch" so that I may answer back!

     An Eastern Grey Squirrel (Sciurus carolinensis) kept an eye on us, no doubt hoping that our pockets were filled with peanuts.

     House Sparrow (Passer domesticus) numbers in general have been in steep decline for several years but LaSalle Park is one spot where they are holding on.

     What a handsome little bird it is. On my best day I never looked so dapper.

     Boating is over for the year, and entrance to the docks is under lock and key.

     Boats have been hoisted out of the water, but it's reassuring to know that humans should not be hoisted along with them!

     There are experiences in life I still crave. Being hoisted over Lake Ontario is not one of them!

     Ring-billed Gulls (Larus delawarensis) were present, but not in the large flocks one might expect.

     As the weather in the north finally gets colder and ice seals off the lakes and ponds, winter ducks are starting to arrive. Many Canvasbacks (Aythya valsinaria) were present, mostly far out on the bay.

     A Trumpeter Swan in flight is a sensational sight, those huge wings sawing through the air, often to the accompaniment of the stirring chorus from which the bird derives its name. It is an experience to be cherished and not forgotten.

     The landing is precise and stately as befits this paragon of avian aristocracy.

     An American Coot (Fulica americana), its head jerking back and forth as it makes its way across the water, lacks the grandeur of the swan, but is nevertheless possessed of a charm all its own. 

     Some of the Canvasbacks moved in a little closer.

     If one saw a thousand feathers a day would one become indifferent to its charm and function? I don't think so.

     The contact call of a Northern Cardinal (Cardinalis cardinalis) alerted us to its presence. It skittered and jinked, finally agreeing to pose for a picture.

     I normally associate setting out oranges with Baltimore Orioles (Icterus galbula), but evidently the sweet flesh attracts other species too. The pith looked quite fresh, but the fruit was gone.

     We could not help but admire the manner in which the orange half had been secured.

     A couple of American Black Ducks (Anas rubipres) were not in ideal light for a picture, nor in a good position for that matter, but here they are anyway.

     This Trumpeter Swan family was intact, with the parents both guarding and teaching their young.

     Redhead (Aytha americana) is a very handsome duck, and its number will increase exponentially over the next days and weeks.

     It is shown above with a Trumpeter Swan upended in feeding mode and a male Bufflehead (Bucephala albeola).

     Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias) is a tough character and as long as open water is to be found a few remain here, even enduring the biting cold of winter.

     Black-capped Chickadee (Poecile atricapillus), ever charming, ever endearing was rarely out of sight - or earshot - and at times maintained a regular shuttle to and from my outstretched hand containing sunflower seeds.

     A white version of a domestic Mallard (Anas platyrynchos domesticus) has joined the  flock of wild birds at LaSalle and has kept company with them for a couple of years now. Charles Darwin would be delighted at this exemplar of "Variation under Domestication."

     Rock Dove (Columbia livia), aka Rock Pigeon, aka Feral Pigeon, is a very common bird, but rarely have I seen them at LaSalle. This species has been bred to achieve myriad different forms to satisfy the whims of humans, but the following birds bear a very close resemblance to wild ancestral stock.

     It is by any measure a transcendently handsome bird, and one which has rendered distinguished service to humankind as a messenger, especially in times of war. Its homing abilities are legendary.

     A Ring-billed Gull seemed to protest the level of attention paid to the pigeons.

     Perhaps it concluded it was all in vain and walked away.

     The Rock Doves were not at all shy to feed from my hand, and they cooed sweetly when I stroked their breast.

     Amicable and friendly, enjoying each other's company it seemed, they were a splendid addition to our morning walk.

     Miriam could not resist getting in on the act, with camera in one hand and bird on the other.

     A Canada Goose (Branta canadensis) was not shy about getting its share, either.

     Upon arrival we had coffee and Miriam's blueberry muffins, clearly the best in the world, because they taste better than anyone has a right to expect, and every time we have shared them with others their mouths stretch to their ear lobes in a smile so wide it illuminates the day. If you listen carefully you can hear their lips smacking with satisfaction. Imagine for a moment if you will our inestimable joy. A bright, sunny day, a tasty snack, birds all around us, a walk through the trees.

     And we had each other. It doesn't get any better than that.