A Summer Farewell: Wildlife, Road Trips, and Adventure Cat Training

Thank goodness August — and summer — is finally coming to a close. As a wildlife photographer, summer isn’t exactly prime time for spotting wildlife. The heat pushes many animals into hiding, and the midday sun makes photography tricky. But if this season taught me anything, it’s to slow down, observe more closely, and appreciate the subtle beauty that’s still all around.

I found myself chasing sunrises and sunsets — those golden hours where the world feels softer, calmer, and a little more magical. Yet even in the heat of the day, if you’re savvy (and patient), wildlife still has a way of surprising you.

This past week, while recovering from surgery, I’ve been sneaking in early morning drives and peaceful evening loops. It’s been a way to ease back into my photography intentionally, with no expectations.

One evening, I spotted a young deer buck grazing on a patch of lush grass along a tree-lined street. He’s a familiar face in that neighborhood, his little antlers growing in, but posing for me? Not happening. How rude! Still, I managed a few shots before he wandered off, completely uninterested in my creative vision.

Another evening brought me to one of my favorite lagoons. My heart skipped when I spotted a Great Blue Heron standing in the seaweed, waiting patiently for dinner.

Harry the Heron here is contemplating his life choices in regards to picking a seaweed filled lagoon where he can't see the prey he's hunting. LOL.

Not far away, a Greater Yellowlegs waded along, grazing delicately.

Did You Know?

The Greater Yellowlegs gets its name from its long, bright yellow legs, which help it wade through shallow waters while hunting for insects, small fish, and crustaceans. Despite their delicate appearance, these birds are incredible long-distance migrants — some travel over 4,000 kilometers from their breeding grounds in the Arctic to their wintering areas in Central and South America!

Then I heard it — the sharp, distinct call of a female kingfisher. She was too far for a close-up, but if you zoom in, you can spot her perched on a piling.

Just as I wrapped up my kingfisher attempts, a harbour seal swam by, giving me the most exaggerated side eye I’ve ever seen.

It was like nature decided to turn on the show: bam, bam, bam — one wild encounter after another. Funny enough, I had just whispered to myself, “Where is all the wildlife today?” I swear the universe answered, “Here you go, Jennifer!”

Before leaving, I watched a group of dunlins feasting in the lagoon while the sun painted the water in golds and pinks. They scurried back and forth in their little tight-knit group, pecking frantically at the water like they were late for a dinner reservation. It always makes me laugh — they look so determined and yet so chaotic at the same time, like tiny feathery commuters on rush hour trains.

Did You Know?

Dunlins play a vital role in lagoon ecosystems. As they feed, they help control insect and small invertebrate populations, keeping the natural balance in check. In turn, they’re also an important food source for larger predators like raptors and marine mammals. Healthy populations of shorebirds like dunlins are often a sign of a thriving lagoon ecosystem — one where food webs and habitats are working just as they should.

Canada geese — or as I like to call them, Cobra Chickens — bathed in the fading light, two even balancing on one leg like seasoned yogis. How do they do that? If only I had their balance!

As I drove away, I noticed the first hints of birds returning for the fall migration.

Did You Know?

During fall migration, millions of birds travel thousands of kilometers from their northern breeding grounds to warmer southern habitats. Some species, like the Arctic Tern, make round trips of over 70,000 kilometers each year — the longest migration of any bird on Earth! This annual journey is a vital survival strategy, ensuring birds can find food and favorable conditions throughout the seasons.

Fall migration is one of my favorite times of year, and I can already feel the anticipation bubbling up. I’m itching for crisp mornings, cooler light, and the surge of wildlife activity this new season brings.

Today, on a hot and sunny Sunday — the last day of August — I decided to road-trip up the island with my kitten, Finnegan. This little guy is my adventure cat in training, and he completely blew me away.

In the car, he was a rock star. Calm, curious, and settling in like a pro. We stopped for two walks, and he nailed both. He’s learning his boundaries, where he can go (and where he can’t), and I couldn’t be prouder.

Our goal? To spot some Roosevelt elk. We weren’t sure we’d get lucky, but nature didn’t disappoint. I found a mama elk calling out, and moments later, her not so tiny calf emerged from the bushes and nuzzled in to nurse. It was breathtaking — one of those intimate wildlife moments that stay etched in your memory, even if you can’t capture them on camera.

Mama Roosevelt Elk

Baby Roosevelt Elk

Afterward, we stopped at a nearby marsh. At first, it seemed quiet — eerily so. I only spotted a Female Dark-eyes Junco hopping around looking for seeds. I just happened to say out loud, it would be nice for a portrait instead of the butt and she turned and looked at me. I laughed! Did she hear me and actually comply?

On the other side of the marsh was buzzing with life: juvenile cedar waxwings devouring berries, and a black-capped chickadee doing the same.

And of course, because the universe has a sense of humor, the chickadee turned and gave me the classic bird butt pose. Yet another one for my growing collection of “bird butts in the wild.” LOL.

On the way home, we passed a local marina where sea lions are known to sunbathe. None were around today, though I swear I heard one barking somewhere out of sight. Finnegan was curled up in the back seat, fast asleep after his big day. I think I was just as tuckered out — him from learning, me from laughing, driving, and soaking up the wild.

While I didn’t capture any spectacular, award-winning shots today, I wouldn’t change a thing. It was a peaceful, joy-filled day with my aunt and Finnegan by my side.

Summer may be ending, but this quiet day of laughter, learning, and connection with nature felt like the perfect send-off. Here’s to fall’s fresh start, the migrating flocks, and many more adventures to come.

Thank you, nature, for always being there to quiet my busy mind and soothe my grieving heart. What a wonderful way to close the chapter on summer.