Kyle Talks Nature (2025)

03/01/2025

If you've ever been to a hummingbird feeder, you know that it's the most violent place on Earth (probably). Hummers are a total nightmare - chasing, screaming, battling, dive bombing, constantly at war. Theirs is a tiny world of terrors.

The Gorgeted Woodstar is the remedy to all the chaos. As the bigger birds zip and whirl after each other, claiming their hard-fought domains, the tiny woodstar slowly wafts about on invisible wings, unobtrusive and unnoticed.

The woodstar may be successfully undercover as a rotund bumblebee, for that is the impression it gives. It is scarcely larger than its six-legged facsimile, and it hovers with the same complete lack of urgency. It just gently floats about, sipping nectar and bothering nobody.

Maybe for my New Years resolution I will aim to channel my inner woodstar - small, round, slow-moving, and flying effortlessly under the radar. Or, like, not caught up in other people's drama...I don't know I'm still working on the metaphor.

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Gorgeted Woodstar
Napo, Ecuador

30/12/2024

Do you ever have the urge to dangle from your toes and engage in a rousing bout of armpit grappling? No? Weird. You're clearly not an Emerald Glass Frog.

Glass frogs get a lot of attention for their translucent skin and googly eyes, but the weirdness doesn't end there. They also have stabby armpit spines for vanquishing their enemies. Competing males literally dangle from their little toesies and violently hug it out.

If you are sadly lacking in both sticky toe pads and armpit appendages (I feel your pain) I would imagine some duct tape and creativity may be the solution. Maybe we'll see inverted armpit grappling in the Olympics someday. I'd rather watch it than golf.

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Emerald Glass Frog
Mindo, Ecuador

24/12/2024

I'm not usually a sucker for fuzzy animals. I don't spend my days ogling kittens on the interwebs or gushing over goslings in the park. I must admit though, when I met this very fuzzy lady, I was completely smitten.

I figured the feeling was mutual. I struck up a conversation during our impromptu photoshoot and it flowed beautifully. A little one-sided, sure, but I do tend to ramble a little when I'm excited. Then, as per usual, I must've said something wrong.

I know this because she quickly went from her relaxed, engaged listening posture to her rigid "I'm a stick" pose. They always do that. No matter what I said, I couldn't rectify the situation. Foot in mouth yet again, I packed up and moved on. Better luck next time, hopefully.

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Red-thighed Bromeliad Spider
Mindo, Ecuador

23/12/2024

With nothing for scale, the Giant Hummingbird barely looks giant at all. You don't see it looming over tall buildings or crushing cars beneath its feet. It really is pretty big, though. You'll just have to take my word for it.

If you've seen videos of Giant Hummingbirds, you'd be forgiven for thinking (as I did) that they are floating ballerinas, dancing among the flowers with delicate grace. As it happens, they're more like fighter jets. They sound like them too, rocketing across the landscape.

This Mach-2 zooming only enhances the effect when, upon arriving at a flower, they freeze in midair. If the hovering of other hummingbirds appears as a feat of physics, the Giant seems held aloft only by some inexplicable magic. The brain cannot resolve it.

It seems obvious that the Giant Hummingbird's occasional wingbeats - far less frantic than those of its cousins - should be insufficient to keep such a large bird still in the air. And yet it hovers, casually surveying its surroundings before moving in for a drink.

There's little better in life than a small big thing or a big small thing, and the contradictory Giant Hummingbird exemplifies that. Like a pygmy hippo or an elephant beetle. Nature does have a way of keeping the brain guessing, and you've got to love it for that.

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Giant Hummingbird
Antisana, Ecuador

20/12/2024

You don't have to be a physiologist to guess which senses an armadillo has evolved to rely on. One look at its ridiculous face tells you everything you need to know. Its hearing is excellent, its smelling is fantastic, and its vision is complete garbage.

You can test this theory if an armadillo happens to be coming towards you. Simply stand (or in my case lie on your stomach) very still. If you are quiet enough, and don't smell too objectionable, that armadillo might just about bump into you.

This particular armadillo snuffled its way to within an arm's reach, but became suspicious when I moved my foot slightly, rustling the leaves. It stood up, sniffed the air, decided something was amiss, and casually turned and strolled off in the opposite direction.

Fortunately for the armadillo, vision is not key to its survival. Its generously proportioned nose is perfect for detecting (and rooting out) insects hidden in the soil, and its swivelling ears are always on high alert for danger. Eyes, well, they're just not that important.

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Nine-banded Armadillo
Mindo, Ecuador

18/12/2024

The Forest Giant Owl is not particularly giant. For an owl. Freaking huge for a butterfly though. Confusing name, too.

Probably, I suppose, the Forest Giant Owl is named for the striking, owl-esque eyes that interrupt its otherwise-masterful camouflage. Those eyes might give you second thoughts if you were considering having this butterfly for lunch. Admit it, you were thinking about it.

I did not eat this butterfly, even though I knew its giant eyes were just a trick. Instead I acted frightened and pretended the eyes were following me. It seemed the only polite thing to do in the situation. International diplomacy, you know?

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Forest Giant Owl
Mindo, Ecuador

16/12/2024

I found myself quite fond of Rose-faced Parrot, with its blushing pink cheeks and baby blue eyes. I couldn't put my finger on why. "I like this parrot, it has unusual colours" I said to my lovely guide in clumsy Spanish. "Like a tourist" she said. "Like you".

Her satisfied smile suggested this wasn't the first time she'd made this observation, and that it may not entirely have been meant as a flattering comparison. I loved it. I didn't know if I felt better or worse about my affection for the bird, and I didn't care.

I daresay the parrot wears its unusual palette far better than I, or for that matter any other half-sunburnt white tourist in Ecuador. If only I rocked the look with the same stylish allure. Alas I am destined to be comedic fodder for witty bird guides. Could be worse, I suppose.

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Rose-faced Parrot
Mashpi-Amagusa, Ecuador

13/12/2024

Flowerpiercers. Jerks, you know?

Consider hummingbirds, for a moment. When a helpful hummer visits a flower, she daintily dips her tongue into the sweet nectar. In the process, she picks up a little pollen and transfers it to the next flower. Dignified. Considerate.

Enter the flowerpiercer. This thieving degenerate skips the front door, instead using her weird little beak to bore into the base of the flower, stealing nectar and spreading no pollen in payment. Dishonest. Frankly rude.

The flowerpiercer piggybacks on the intricately evolved relationships between flowers and their pollinators. If every nectar-eater was a robber, the whole system would break down. You can only cheat if most everyone else doesn't. There's probably a lesson in that.

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Indigo Flowerpiercer
Mashpi Amagusa, Ecuador

11/12/2024

Do you keep a list of top birds to see in the world, by which you define your entire life? I do. I think of it at least daily. I'm a healthy, normal person. Don't even worry about it.

Anyway, the list has been topped by the same bird for over a decade: the Andean Condor.

To me, the condor is as close to perfect as a bird can be. It's big, it's beautiful, it lives against a spectacular backdrop (high in the Andes), and most importantly, it has all the vulturey goodness I so regularly crave.

Maybe it was the effects of elevation or the dodgy ceviche I'd eaten the day before, but when I first saw a pair of condors cruising a ridgeline I had a genuine moment. There's not much in life that truly moves me, but the right bird at the right time cuts to the core, you know?

These birds were everything I dreamed they'd be, and that leaves me with a problem. There is a coveted spot open at the top of the must-see list, and it can't be filled by just anyone. The bird that sits on that pedestal has massive shoes to fill. It must be a worthy replacement.

There is truly some soul-searching to be done, but in the meantime I am still basking in the memory of those massive, magical vultures wheeling and sweeping across the mountain landscape. If you don't keep a list, I suggest you start one. There's no feeling like reaching the top.

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Andean Condors
Antisana, Ecuador

11/10/2024

Rejoice, for OneWordBirds has awoken from its long slumber. Yes, that thing you never wanted or needed is back. All the bird-word-nerdiness you didn't ask for is now at your fingertips. Again. Also, new stuff. For example: ducks.

https://seagullblog.com/owb/ducks/

11/09/2024

It's migration season again and as usual birds are getting all the credit. Sure migration's a miracle and all, but it's kinda cheating if you have a skeleton and a big ol' brain. These guys are out here doing it with tissue paper wings and a few loosely associated neurons.

Insect migration is ridiculous. If you've ever watched a butterfly waft aimlessly across the landscape or get caught helplessly in a little updraft, you'd be forgiven for thinking this is not a creature fit for flying thousands of kilometres to a specific destination. It isn't.

And yet it does it anyway. So, too, do many dragonflies who - while they certainly do seem more adept in the flying department - are nonetheless very small and very simple creatures.

Even more preposterous, each of these insects will make the journey only once (or in the case of some, like the Monarch, one half). This means that every fall, as they begin to fly south, literally none of them have done it before. Talk about the blind leading the blind.

Basically this is me once again telling you that insects are the coolest and you should really spend more time paying attention to them. What's a bird ever done for you anyway? Just bring you joy and wonderment for the world you live in? Do better, birds.

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Monarch and Black Saddlebags
Guelph, Ontario

06/09/2024

I've said it before and I'll say it again (mostly because I'm very forgetful). Green Heron = best heron. There can be no debate on this. It isn't even close.

It's small, in a family that's mostly big. It's stocky, in a family that's mostly long. It's dorky, in a family that's mostly graceful and elegant. It is the anti-heron, and I adore it.

I know some of you are muttering the names of other small, stocky, dorky herons right now, and that's fine. They're good too. But this one is the best. Take a good look at it and tell me I'm wrong. I dare you.

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Green Heron
Guelph, Ontario

09/07/2024

Is there anything more badass than a huge freaking horsefly? No, no there is not. This monstrous lady was roughly the size of a light aircraft. I was slightly concerned she would consume me in a single bite, but fortunately she was otherwise occupied.

This horse-sized horsefly was, in fact, dutifully laying eggs on a plant stem. Those eggs were, of course, grown using the blood of her enemies. Fortuitously for the humans among us, she has a preference for the blood of non-human animals, like livestock.

When they hatch, her larvae will drop into the mud or water below. They will live there, among the debris, hunting the other tiny creatures around them. Once they have eaten their fill, they will pupate and become giant flies in the image of their mother.

I suppose they may also become giant flies in the image of their father, but as he does not blood-feed, he is much less cool than she is. He just snacks on flower nectar and mates with the female, which does seem low-stress but doesn't really impress anyone.

If you should be so fortunate as to encounter a giant horsefly this summer, just do your best not-a-horse impression and appreciate how massive and massively cool this thing is. It's not every day you get to see a vampire fly the size of a Cessna. Pretty badass.

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Black Horsefly
Lambton County, Ontario

04/07/2024

Pennants...they're just so good, you know? I don't even have anything dumb to say about them. Maybe that says more than my ramblings ever could. This seems like a revelation that I should just stop talking, but I think we all know that's not likely. Regular programming to resume shortly.

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Halloween and Calico Pennants
Lambton County, Ontario

03/07/2024

I recently said to someone, offhandedly in conversation, that carnivores are always cooler than herbivores. I'm not sure they agreed, but I stand by it. Animals that eat other animals are the coolest animals, and you can fight me on that.

Take, for example, the Big Sand Tiger Beetle. There are plenty of perfectly fine beetles in the world that munch on leaves or pollinate flowers and that's all well and good. The tiger beetles are the monsters that haunt those other beetles' nightmares.

The tiger beetle's predatory kit comprises three elements: big, powerful eyes for spotting and tracking unwitting prey; long, powerful legs for running at breakneck speed across hot sand; and terrifying, powerful jaws for dismantling other insects into many smaller pieces.

Inarguably the tiger beetle is a very cool beetle and I can't see how there'd be debate about that. But if the beetle's not your speed - perhaps you have a taste for something more airborne - there's always the robber flies.

The Western Red-tailed Marauder is a textbook example, pictured here devouring a smaller, less interesting fly. The marauder carries over the tiger beetle's big eyes, this time oriented to detecting prey in three dimensions as the robber fly hunts in aerial ambush.

The long legs are carried over too, though in this case they are covered in spines and form a sort of basket with which to scoop up the fly's flying prey. Lacking are powerful jaws, replaced instead with a piercing straw that immedately injects a paralytic.

With its quarry incapacitated, the fly then injects digestive enzymes to break down its meal pre-ingestion, then simply sucks up the resultant slurry at its leisure. It's kinda like mashing up a Big Mac until you can suck it through a straw. Except the Big Mac is alive.

And so, as we already know, carnivores are just cooler than herbivores. Hunting necessitates traits like speed, agility, power, ferocity, and guile, and nobody ever needed those things to eat a leaf. Give me carnivores, or give me nothing at all.

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Big Sand Tiger Beetle & Western Red-tailed Marauder
Lambton County, Ontario

02/07/2024

The Polyphemus Moth is an absolute monster. It's about 6 inches from tip-to-tip, or as I prefer to think of it, roughly the size of a human face. That's absolutely enormous in insect terms, which makes it particularly surprising that this moth never eats.

Or, that is to say, never eats as an adult. The moth-form of this moth has no functional mouthparts, so it lives only a matter of days during which it flies around mating and laying eggs (or in the case of the male, just mating) until it wastes away and dies.

We often only think about the adult forms of insects. Many, though, spend more time as nymphs or larvae than as adults. Such is the case for the Polyphemus, which lives as a gluttonous caterpillar for several weeks before its short tenure as a flying Victorian mask.

It seems admirable, in a way, to be so singularly driven with purpose that you abide absolutely zero distractions. To be so geared towards one task that you will literally die doing it. I can't even get through the work day without a meal, two snacks, and an afternoon coffee.

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Polyphemus Moth
Waterloo Region, Ontario

27/06/2024

Sometimes I fear that I post too many bugs (as if that's a thing) and I'm overdue to pay the bird tax. Fortuitous, then, that this thing flew in behind me recently while I was looking at a bug. After several minutes of ignoring it, I reluctantly turned around to take a photo.

This particular bird looks a little scruffy, but don't we all with a beak-full of breakfast. We typically think of the grosbeak's gros-beak as a dedicated seed-cracker, but the Rose-breasted Grosbeak is a glutton for sweet fruits and juicy bugs in equal measure.

Now that I have paid the aforementioned tax you can expect another long run of solid bug photos. Maybe just think of them as tiny, featherless birds with a few extra legs. Life's all about perspective.

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Rose-breasted Grosbeak
Pinery Provincial Park, Ontario

26/06/2024

Recently I wrote a blog post about bird names that don't make sense. If you are a bird lover, and if you felt a bit defensive about that wanton attack, it will comfort you to know that other animals have names that don't make sense also. Case and point: the clubtails.

So there's a famly of dragonflies called the clubtails, and you would assume you could identify one by its clubbed tail. Except not all clubtails have clubbed tails, and plenty of non-clubtails also have clubbed tails. Plus that thing is not really a tail, but I digress.

A better identifier for clubtails is, in fact, having eyes that do not touch each other. You'd think non-touching eyes would be the norm, but for dragonflies it's weirdly the exception, not the rule. So instead of clubtails they should clearly be called notouchyeyes.

Fortunately many members of the clubtail family have names that make much more sense, like the lovely Black-shouldered Spinyleg which manages to be completely literal, perfectly descriptive, and still pretty badass all at the same time. Perfection.

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Black-shouldered Spinyleg
Middlesex County, Ontario

Kyle Talks Nature