Winged Wednesday 4/16/2025 Long Toed Wetland Wonders

Eric Gofreed

Well-Known Member
This week’s Winged Wednesday is all about your favorite winged creatures. There’s no set theme—whether it’s birds, butterflies, dragonflies, bees, or anything else that flutters, soars, or zips by in the breeze, I want to see it! Share what’s been catching your eye or your camera. As for me, I’m highlighting birds with extraordinary toes, perfectly designed for life on the water’s edge. This week’s photos feature swamphens, gallinules, and jacanas—each a specialist at balancing on lily pads, weaving through reeds, and gliding across floating vegetation. These are the birds who walk where others would sink.


Wattled Jacana-09431-Edit.jpg

Wattled Jacana
With toes like stilts, the Wattled Jacana walks across floating vegetation like it’s on solid ground. Those extra-long toes spread their weight, letting them forage for insects, seeds, and tiny aquatic creatures without sinking. The bright red wattle on its face isn’t just for show—it helps attract mates, signals dominance, and lets jacanas recognize one another during breeding season.

Purple gallinule-04561-Edit.jpg

Purple Gallinule
Like the Jacana, the Gallinule easily walks across floating vegetation, its long toes spreading its weight like snowshoes. But unlike the Jacana, the Gallinule is also a climber—using those same toes to scale reeds and stalks in search of berries, bugs, and snails tucked away above the waterline.

Gray-headed Swamphen-03865-Edit.jpg

Gray-headed Swamphen
A striking newcomer to Florida’s wetlands, this bird arrived in the 1990s—likely escaped from private collections—and now breeds across South Florida. Its long toes help it balance on floating plants and wade through thick vegetation. Even more impressive, it often uses one foot like a hand, grasping stems or pulling shoots closer as it forages. Though non-native, it hasn’t caused any disruption yet.

Takahē, New Zealand.jpg

Takahē (pronounced TAH-kah-heh)
The Takahē is a rare, flightless swamphen found only in New Zealand. Once thought extinct, it was rediscovered in 1948. Its name reflects the soft sounds it makes as it moves through the grass. In Māori culture, it’s a taonga—a treasured bird that symbolizes endurance, rediscovery, and the bond between people and the land.

Pūkeko (purple swamp hen).jpg

Pūkeko (pronounced POO-keh-koh) or Australasian Swamphen,
The Pūkeko is a far more common sight, striding confidently through roadside ditches and wetlands in New Zealand. In Māori tradition, the Pūkeko is often portrayed as a clever, mischievous figure—a survivor who thrives in natural and human-shaped landscapes.

A Note on Names: Takahē and Pūkeko
The names Takahē and Pūkeko come from Te Reo Māori, the Indigenous language of the Māori people of New Zealand. Both are onomatopoeic, inspired by the natural calls of the birds themselves.
 
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Trent Watts

Well-Known Member
This week’s Winged Wednesday is all about your favorite winged creatures. There’s no set theme—whether it’s birds, butterflies, dragonflies, bees, or anything else that flutters, soars, or zips by in the breeze, I want to see it! Share what’s been catching your eye or your camera. As for me, I’m highlighting birds with extraordinary toes, perfectly designed for life on the water’s edge. This week’s photos feature swamphens, gallinules, and jacanas, each a specialist in balancing on lily pads, slipping through reeds, and navigating floating vegetation. These birds walk where others sink, marshland marvels with feet made to defy sinking.


View attachment 80739
Wattled Jacana
With toes like stilts, the Wattled Jacana walks across floating vegetation like it’s on solid ground. Those extra-long toes spread their weight, letting them forage for insects, seeds, and tiny aquatic creatures without sinking. The bright red wattle on its face isn’t just for show—it helps attract mates, signals dominance, and lets jacanas recognize one another during breeding season.

View attachment 80740
Purple Gallinule
Like the Jacana, the Gallinule easily walks across floating vegetation, its long toes spreading its weight like snowshoes. But unlike the Jacana, the Gallinule is also a climber—using those same toes to scale reeds and stalks in search of berries, bugs, and snails tucked away above the waterline.

View attachment 80742
Gray-headed Swamphen
A striking newcomer to Florida’s wetlands, this bird arrived in the 1990s—likely escaped from private collections—and now breeds across South Florida. Its long toes help it balance on floating plants and wade through thick vegetation. Even more impressive, it often uses one foot like a hand, grasping stems or pulling shoots closer as it forages. Though non-native, it hasn’t caused any disruption yet.

View attachment 80744
Takahē (pronounced TAH-kah-heh)
The Takahē is a rare, flightless swamphen found only in New Zealand. Once thought extinct, it was rediscovered in 1948. Its name reflects the soft sounds it makes as it moves through the grass. In Māori culture, it’s a taonga—a treasured bird that symbolizes endurance, rediscovery, and the bond between people and the land.

View attachment 80743
Pūkeko (pronounced POO-keh-koh) or Australasian Swamphen,
The Pūkeko is a far more common sight, striding confidently through roadside ditches and wetlands in New Zealand. In Māori tradition, the Pūkeko is often portrayed as a clever, mischievous figure—a survivor who thrives in natural and human-shaped landscapes.

A Note on Names: Takahē and Pūkeko
The names Takahē and Pūkeko come from Te Reo Māori, the Indigenous language of the Māori people of New Zealand. Both are onomatopoeic, inspired by the natural calls of the birds themselves.
I really enjoyed your images this week Eric. Back over 50 years ago when I graduated my wife and I moved to NZ. I worked in dairy practice on the North Island and would commonly see Pūkeko in the swampy areas on farmer's fields. It brought back lots of memories so thank you.
 

Trent Watts

Well-Known Member
For this week I will feature a moth that populated a native prairie grass reserve I visited this week. There were hundreds of these moths gathering over the whole area. They are Tortricid moths of the genus Epinotia. Many of this genus can be significant agricultural pest but I am not sure about this one. It seems they must have overwintered as adults as it seems too cold for a hatch to have happened.

They have large eyes, seemingly out of proportion to their head,
T1010389-Edit.jpg


Making more moths I guess.
T1010397-Edit.jpg


This one landed on my finger and seemed quite content to mop up salt and moisture from my skin. I took the picture with my free hand and the camera.
If you look closely you can see the moth's proboscis.
T1010423-Edit.jpg
 

Eric Gofreed

Well-Known Member
For this week I will feature a moth that populated a native prairie grass reserve I visited this week. There were hundreds of these moths gathering over the whole area. They are Tortricid moths of the genus Epinotia. Many of this genus can be significant agricultural pest but I am not sure about this one. It seems they must have overwintered as adults as it seems too cold for a hatch to have happened.

They have large eyes, seemingly out of proportion to their head,
View attachment 80746

Making more moths I guess.
View attachment 80747

This one landed on my finger and seemed quite content to mop up salt and moisture from my skin. I took the picture with my free hand and the camera.
If you look closely you can see the moth's proboscis.
View attachment 80748
A Wigeon or to be more exact a Eurasian Wigeon as the American version has different colouration. Ken
View attachment 80753
The colors, details, and lighting are flawless. Excellent work, Ken. The colors, details, and light are perfect. This is a pure Eurasian. A hybrid with American wigeon, has various amounts of green near the eye. Even a hint of green indicates it's a Hybrid.
 
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Eric Gofreed

Well-Known Member
That's a superb photo, Alan. love to hear their Conk-la-reeee. If your imagination allows

“Call Me Maybe” (Carly Rae Jepsen)
Original:
Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy,
But here's my number, so call me maybe.
Birdified:
Hey, from the cattails, the song is crazy,
It’s loud and raspy — conk-la-ree-zy!
 

Eric Gofreed

Well-Known Member
I really enjoyed your images this week Eric. Back over 50 years ago when I graduated my wife and I moved to NZ. I worked in dairy practice on the North Island and would commonly see Pūkeko in the swampy areas on farmer's fields. It brought back lots of memories so thank you.
New Zealand’s farms were green and lush, the prettiest I’ve ever seen. Though I didn’t get to see the care up close, I imagine they were better than I ever dreamed
 
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