We left Seward and drove for about three hours to Homer, a town at the southern tip of the Kenai Peninsula. Homer is known as a gathering place for artists. Perhaps because it’s the southernmost point reachable by road, it feels somewhat warm and has a bit of a special atmosphere. The sand spit area, Homer Spit, is bustling with shops and tourists.
Tern Lake, located at the junction for Seward and Homer when coming from Anchorage.A Black-billed Magpie spotted along the way. In my home region of northern Kyushu in Japan, magpies are common in winter, and they look identical, though this North American species is technically considered separate (though some treat it as a subspecies).
We arrived in Homer. The town has many art galleries selling works by local artists. Just browsing is enjoyable, but I found a beautiful painting and ended up buying it.
Up to this point, we’d been lucky enough to see plenty of wildlife. Birds, however, had been less abundant than I’d hoped. With one last chance, I headed out while my family was still asleep.
Beluga Slough Trail, near the base of Homer Spit. It lies between wetlands and the sea.Orange-crowned Warbler.Ring-necked Pheasant, an Asian species introduced for hunting that has become feral here.A juvenile American Crow. I’d recently been hearing them calling loudly outside my house, and here they were making noise too.Morning mist over the wetlands.Looking up, I saw a large bird approaching. A Bald Eagle was being chased by crows. It seems crows and raptors don’t get along anywhere.The Bald Eagle approached with slow, majestic wingbeats.I managed to photograph its flight at nearly full-frame distance.Its mate soon arrived, and the two perched side by side on a fallen tree, calling loudly to each other.Just then, the morning sun broke through. Staying crouched in the grass, I inched closer and fired away.Bald Eagles could be seen on the right side of the water.They moved to a fallen tree a short distance away.They called to each other again.The female is larger, but telling the sexes apart is still difficult.Considering I only had about an hour to spare, encountering this scene felt incredibly lucky.The Bald Eagle flew off.Once again, it soared away in the morning light—only to be chased by crows again.A Golden-crowned Sparrow hopping through the grass.A Savannah Sparrow.It wasn’t shy, so I could get a nice close shot.An American Crow missing one eye.I returned to the lodge, then went to the boat harbor at Homer Spit to look for sea otters. Many American Herring Gulls had gathered there. I didn’t notice at the time, but there was a chick in the background.Another American Herring Gull, though in this region many are thought to be hybrids with the Glaucous-winged Gull, which has light gray wingtips—making identification tricky.Still no sea otters. Scanning the open ocean side with binoculars, I spotted something swimming that looked like an otter. It was moving quickly toward somewhere, much faster than I expected, and I eventually lost sight of it.A Black Oystercatcher. They tend to be rather wary, and I’ve rarely been able to get close.
I returned to the boat harbor. I had already walked around here with my family earlier and was about to give up and head back when something swam right past me.
So it was you earlier. Completely soaked, I hadn’t recognized it at first, but on closer look it was indeed a Sea Otter. I never saw it floating on its back in the typical relaxed pose, but this was still a good sighting.Forget-me-nots planted outside an art gallery. This is Alaska’s state flower.
