An introduction to Union Bay Natural Area: Turtles

Seattle is the emerald city. Still the greenest city I have seen anywhere, with many parks and green spaces throughout. Surprisingly, wildlife abounds in the city. Crows, owls, eagles, coyotes, raccoons and many other creatures are common through out the city and its many neighborhoods.

One area of Seattle I have had the pleasure of getting to know more intimately is the Union Bay Natural Area. Despite its diminutive size (~50 acres) and the fact that it is a restored wetland on top of a landfill, it is still a wildlife gem. It even shows up in Wikipedia! There is a wealth of species that occur here, some more numerous here than anywhere else in all of Lake Washington. Turtles, for instance, are very numerous and most visible on warm spring or summer days.

As with many urban or near-urban natural areas, Union Bay is a melting pot of native and non-native vegetable and animal species. It is debatable as to whether any of the turtles living in the natural area are native. The most numerous species by far is the red-eared slider (Trachemys scripta elegans).


This tiny individual was surprisingly trusting. It allowed very close approach by inflatable raft. This is about the size they are sold at pet shops throughout the country. Notice the reddish marking directly behind the eye. The beautifully clear patterns on its shell are a sign of its youth. Many members of this species grow much darker with age, their markings become less distinct. A few are known to become darker still, becoming nearly completely melanistic such as the one below.

These turtles are hardy, can tolerate relatively cool temperatures and if it gets too cold for them, they will dig down into the mud and go into hibernation awaiting warmer days. Surprisingly though, I have seen a few of them out on winter days, when the air temperature was around 48 and it was mostly sunny.

There is one species of turtle common to Union Bay that is actually native to Washington (mainly East of the Cascades), and that is the western painted turtle (Chrysemys picta bellii). A close relative of the red-eared slider, it lacks the red marking behind the eye. It also has a gorgeously patterned red plastron (underside of shell). During one of my many visits to the natural area, I found a female painted turtle that had crawled a considerable distance inland and was busy digging a hole on the side of the gravel trail for her eggs.
Amazingly, turtles go into a trance-like state of intense concentration when they are nesting. I am uncertain what benefit of this behavior is, though it no doubt serves an important function. It also allows for incredible close approach. The photo above was taken literally standing right over the turtle, which continued digging totally undisturbed. The shot at the very beginning of this post is a close-up of the same turtle's face.

Though there are likely more species of turtles introduced into the lake, I only want to mention one more here. This one came as a complete surprise to me as I had not heard anyone describe, not even the professors at Univeristy of Washington seemed to have known about them. One day during a slow paddle through the lily-pad choked wetland channels I spotted a very unusual animal sunning on a log. It appeared to be a giant turtle, with a gleaming shell... only the shell was more like a pancake on top of a turtle-shaped animal. My trusty National Audubon Field Guide to Reptiles and Amphibians helped me to figure it out: spiny softshell turtle (Apalone spinifera). Unlike the other turtles in the area, this one had a soft, leathery shell. This first animal was extremely wary and dove when I was still many meter away. It was several weeks before another one showed itself. Eventually, with a lot of patience and prayer, I got much closer to these mystery animals.


Though the first animal I saw was very large, the first turtle of this kind that let me get close was much smaller. I later learned it was an adult male of the species. It was the female that was much, much larger. The male in this shot has a shell of about 7 inches in total length. You can clearly make out the snorkel-like nose of this species which it can poke out of the water without expose any other part of its head.

The females grow to a shell length of around 19-20 inches in length. Add to that a large head and neck and they can be over 2 feet in total length! Though I can't say I ever got any exact measurements on the giant females I got close to, my estimates were at least 18 inches in shell length for the largest one I saw and photographed (she appears below).
Seeing such large reptiles makes me think of something from the ancient times, when giant creatures ruled the earth! These great turtles are one of the top predators of the Union Bay Natural Area, along with the great blue herons, bald eagles, otters and coyotes.

It is uncertain what effect the introduced turtles have on the native ecosystem of Lake Washington. The lake has been so altered by the hands of modern human beings that it is very difficult to even imagine what the native biological system may have looked like. Invasive species are a hotly debated topic and I have learned so much about them from spending time at Union Bay. I will share more on that topic specifically sometime later.

My mate, the doorstop...

A short story to share from a trip to California...

During a short hike in the Santa Ana mountains, my wife and I spotted an odd shaped object just on the side of the dirt trail. Upon close inspection, we discovered in was the body of a dead tarantula. It had been there for some time and was but a mere husk, as you can see above.

The humorous part of it was that initially when we discovered the body, it had its legs up towards the sky. Upon flipping it over we saw that it was plugging a hole. The home of another tarantula. The abdomen of the spider's body had been punctured and it was dried out like a raisin.

It appears that at some point during this male spiders life - most likely during the breeding season - it came by the burrow of a female tarantula. Unfortunately for him, she was not in an amorous mood. Instead, he became her meal! And after that, she thought he would make a nice doorstop as well!

Catchin' frogs

Winter naturally seems to bring us into an introspective state. I have definitely been in that place lately, and so it is no surprise that it influences my writings here. My thoughts have wandered to memories... many memories of fond times getting close to wildlife. Specifically, the times since I was a boy seeking and catching small critters, like frogs and snakes.


It is difficult to express the simple pleasure of seeking out the so called creepy-crawly things. Most of the best naturalists I know or have heard of spent at least some part of their childhood doing just that.

I feel so thankful for the little creatures such as : frogs, toads, snakes, turtles, and invertebrates of all kinds. It is one thing to see a photo of them, or even see them in a cage, but there is a magic in chasing after them in the wild. Getting our hands muddy trying to grab that squirmy, wet bullfrog as it kicks and jumps to get away. Chasing after them through wetlands or slogging along the edge of a pond. Grabbing them requires swiftness, but also great care and gentleness. So many lessons to learn from just the simple act of "catchin' frogs."

Than there are those little creatures that take more practice and patience. For instance, trying to capture a turtle is very challenging. I have had very few opportunities to even try. One time while on a Wilderness Awareness School trip to eastern Washington I was presented with the chance to stalk up on some wild western painted turtles. For any of you out there who have ever tried to sneak up on a turtle, you know just how wary they are. In most places if you get within 10 or 15 meters of a turtle sunning on a log, it will dive and disappear in no time at all.

That's exactly what happened at the crystal clear lake were I stalked them. Taking a lesson from the incredibly patient great blue heron, I sat poise in one place on the turtles' favorite sunning log for a very long time. At least 30 minutes passed before the turtles swam within even a few meters of the log. They spotted any small movements from me and were quick to dive again. Many of them disappeared all together for the time I was on or around the log that day. A few ventured to come near. Eventually I learned to sit very still with my hand very near the water, and after nearly 2 hours of waiting I caught one.



It was one of the smallest and youngest turtles in the lake that I observed. Still, it demanded ever bit of my patience and pushed my skills to the limit to capture it.

What wonder and joy the little things can bring us?!

Why is it that most people don't generally see wildlife...

Well, one reason might be that animals general work at not being seeing for a significant portion of their daily lives.

In the case of this California tree frog, it spends most of the year sitting very still on a rock face overhanging a ephemeral stream. It tucks its legs under its body to help reduce its surface area to a minimum, therefore helps it to cut water loss. For an amphibian, that means life and death! Sitting very still and blending in with its particular nook in the rock is equally important. To the casual eye, it could easily pass as a patch of lichen in the photo above....

Mammals too need to be know how to hide, especially small mammals that others might see as tasty. Rabbits are seen by many animals as food, and they are very good at disappearing.

This one hopped into the thin cover of these dead plants as I round the bend of a trail. Spotted it only in my peripheral vision. I walked within a few feet of it and it didn't budge. Like many rabbits, this desert cottontail uses camouflage first... and running away only once it has been spotted.

The larger black-tailed jackrabbit is more likely to bolt. Though it will also seek cover if it feels it has not been spotted or feels undisturbed by the observer. See if you can spot the the jackrabbit?

So what about much larger mammals? An animal the size of an elk should be easy to spot where it lives, right? Especially if this particular animal is out in open country. So, can you see it? There is a HUGE bull elk somewhere in this photo... but where?

It chose to settle on the hillside in a spot where it was at least partially hidden, and yet could look out over the surrounding country.

And birds...?

Yep, most of them do this as well. Especially the small birds, like the plentiful LBJ's (Little Brown Jobs). See the sparrows in this shot? How many are there?



Like many small birds, these 2 golden-crowned sparrows are a combination of different shade of browns and grays. At the approach of a predator - especially of people - they are quick to fly into the cover of nearby shrubs. They have to be alert... never know where those sharp-shinned hawks might be hiding!

So what other ways do animals make themselves so hard for us to spot?

Palouse Photo Trip Part II

Okay. I admit it. It was a mistake to try and pick up the thread of this post more than a month later. I have not had much time here in Europe to continue sharing the Palouse trip story.

So I wil at least share some of the highlights...

Phu and I headed out on the next day into the rolling wheat field country. It was a new photographic experience for both of us, as I mainly focus on wildlife and he on portraits and urban landscapes.


The stark panorama out there was full of fascinating textures, colors, shapes and patterns. It was a great learning experience for me to work on capturing the more abstract beauty of a landscape so strongly influenced by the hands and machinery of human beings.

Generally, when out in the field I look through the landscape to spot wildlife. It was different for me to look at the rolling hills strictly for their own beauty. It was a great opportunity for me to focus on the artistic side of nature photography.


In some places, the landscape was nothing but the sensuous curves of golden hills rolling in every direction. The cut wheat traced with so many lines created an amazing texture, at times like the furry body of some great animal.

We visited 2 buttes which stood out like lone sentinels above the low lying landscape of the wheat fields. The first - Kamioc Butte state park - was closed due to the extreme fire danger created by the dry conditions on its forested slopes. Steptoe Butte, to the North and West, was less forested and thankfully was open to visitors. We had an amazing 360 degree view of the surrounding landscape from up on top. We took our time driving slowly and stopping many times on the way up the butte.

I could not help but seek out some wildlife while taking landscape shots on the butte. In rocky alcove, I poked around looking for snakes and other animals. I was delighted to find a family of rock wrens feeding and exploring the same area. One of them became very curious and approached me for a closer look.
The butte was a spectacular spot, and geologically quite unique. It was formed out of a great mound of quartzite rock over 400 million years old!

The photographic prospects of the Palouse hills were immense, and we did not feel we had exhausted their potential when we headed back to camp for the day.

Palouse Photo Trip

My friend Phu, and I made a trip out to the semi-arid landscapes of eastern Washington. We were out there for a total of 2 and half days and 2 nights. Our main focus was to get to know and photograph the wild canyons and rolling wheat fields that make up the Palouse region. Here are some highlights from that trip...

We headed out of Seattle around noon and drove east, up and over the beautiful Cascade mountains. Once we dropped into the lower sagebrush country, we crossed the Columbia river on its way North to B.C. and continued nearly another 200 miles before arriving at Palouse Falls State Park. Just before we reached the park, however, we saw a big storm moving towards us from out of the southeast. On the front of the storm, there was this great wave. It was a dark brown cloud that stood out against the deep blue-gray of the thunderstorm. It moved swiftly in front of us and quickly covered the road as it moved West. It looked intimidating and I was uncertain whether driving through it was wise, so we pulled over. It was our first photo opportunity of the trip. We both jumped out and got buffeted by the storm winds. The brown wave was actually a dust storm that had been kicked up by the intense winds on the front of thunderstorm.

Storms can create an incredible interplay of light, shadow and color. It is difficult to capture the exact intensity of a storm on camera. There are somethings about being in a storm that can not be captured by words or images. The smell, the wind in your face, and the electric intensity in the air.

Both of us thought this was a dramatic start to our trip, and a perhaps positive omen hinting at the incredible things to come.

The dust storm passed us quickly and the road was was clear again, so we jumped in the car and headed to the campsite. Our base camp for the next few days would be Palouse Falls State Park. The thunderstorm ended literally as soon as we arrived in camp. As we set up our tent and started on dinner, the passing storm was lit up by the setting sun creating an amazing display of color over the shrub-steppe country above the rim of the Palouse falls canyon.
As the sun disappeared, the colors faded and the first stars started showing up in the deep blue of the evening sky. We finished our dinner of okra gumbo and catfish, and decided to try something new...

That night, Phu and I tried our hand at astrophotography. This was a first for both of us, and it was a process of learning by trail and error. We walked out on a dirt trail away from the campground where our neighbors lantern was shinning brightly into the darkness of the night. When we walked up and over a small hill, we found the perfect spot to set up our tripods and start shooting pictures.

To explain how odd this was for both of us, let me give an example of what taking pictures is usually like. We walk up to a subject during the day and shoot, often at speeds between 1/100 to 1/1000 of a second. For the astrophotography, we set up the cameras and took photos that took 8 to 15 minutes! Shooting photos of stars was a patient activity. Waiting for 10 minutes for the camera to take a single photo, after pressing the shutter button is strange.

Our lack of experience with it created some rather funny moments. Initially, it was difficult for us to get a single photo to show any part of the landscape or part of the sky. They kept showing up black, as if no image was recorded. When we finally saw the sky and landscape show up on the LCD display, we celebrated with a cheer of "We have an image!" Both Phu and I are use to taking hundreds or sometimes thousands of frames in a matter of a week or two. So, it was rather hilarious for us to be so excited over a single image.

Once we figured out how to set up the shots, our success rate went up. As did the moon. Up to this point, the only hint of the moon had been a faint glow to the northeast. Once the moon was up, there was some concern that the stars would not show up in our photos. It is true, that they were somewhat less visible. Yet, it seemed that the presence of the moon mostly improved our shots.













Our first astrophotography attempts, more specifically photos of stars were met with some success. To our utter surprise, we realized we could capture the movement of the stars in a matter of minutes. The frame on the left was shot in between 8 and 10 minutes of time. Already, you can see clearly the star trails showing the movement of the stars across the sky above the Palouse landscape. The light of the moon helped to illuminate the grassy ridge and telephone pole seen in the photo. Our night was over around midnight.


The following morning we got up bright an early, just before 6 am to take photos of the sunrise and the light it created on the canyon. The sunrise did not have the brilliant color display put on by the sunset of the evening before, but it created a great glow about the grasses and plants on the canyon rim. It also create extremely strong contrast of light and shadow within the canyon. This created a great sense of drama, and to me it was especially underlined in the way it isolated certain parts of the canyon relative to other ones.

There is a trail on the inside of the rim of the canyon, which only the brave and adventurous souls dare take on. It is very narrow and winding, with a very steep drop off on one side. The drop would be well over 200 feet to the canyon bottom below. The shadows framed this trail in an incredible way that to my eyes made it appear as if the trail was wandering along the edge of the world. Over the edge was a nameless, bottomless void which swallowed up any thing and anyone who might fall into its cavernous depths...

We spent over an hour photographing the light, the landscape and the sunrise. As our photo session came to an end before breakfast, I spotted one of the creatures that call this canyon home. It was a powerful bird of prey, and by its markings and begging calls I could tell it was a juvenile. This particular species of bird also happens to be the fastest bird in the word, clocked at well over 200 mph in a dive...

It was a peregrine falcon! This particular juvenile bird actually flew out of the canyon, and landed relatively close to us as we were walking back to our campsite. It perched on the rim of the canyon, and I was so thrilled to get to see one so close and it stayed in the same spot for over 10 minutes! I shot around 85 frames of this bird, as it looked around at things, preened, stared at me and as it begged its parents who flew around down in the canyon below to bring it some breakfast.
I don't think I can easily express the joy and honor I feel at getting to share space with such a magnificent creature. This is an animal of incredible grace, speed and power in flight which has no peer in the animal kingdom. It is a predator not only of the wild canyons of the West, but also the urban canyons found in between and on top of the great urban skyscrapers in our major cities. Though most people who live in big cities don't see them nor much evidence of them, except perhaps the occasional pile of pigeon feathers in a city park or back lot that these bird-eating predators leave behind.

To think, we almost lost this species not so long ago when DDT was used widely as a insecticide in the United States. The chemicals created havoc in the reproductive systems of the birds, affecting their eggs. When the eggs were laid, they would quickly develop cracks due to their shells being too thin. This made falcon numbers plummet and cause a huge mortality rate: virtually none of the chicks survived in the wild. It was only delisted from Endangered status on the Endangered Species List in August of 1999.

I told my friend Phu that if I did not get a chance to take photos of any more wild life on this trip, I would be satisfied because the falcon encounter was so special to me.

The falcon eventually flew down into the canyon to join its parents.


At this point, we were also thinking about our stomaches. Once back at base camp, we sat down to eat some bacon and warm oatmeal for breakfast. Then, we packed up our gear and headed out for a drive to seek out some very different landscapes from the canyon, but ones which are also very much a part of the Palouse region.

More on that in the next installment...

Backlog and trip to Europe

I will be out of the country with my wife for more than an month.  We are returning on October 16.  I am sure I will have a lot more to share here upon returning.  Also, I have a backlog of 2 trips that I still need to post on.  

I look forward to getting to post more stories and pictures!  

Hope you have enjoyed reading and viewing them so far.