May 2013. Possibly the Last Photographs Taken with My Camera...

I don't know if I'll be able to photograph with that camera (a Nikon ultrazoom) with which I took the photos in this photo blog... Here are the last photos taken with it.

Sky over the night Iskov pond. We arrived to catch frogs for tagging and to release a sample of frogs from a previous catch that already had tags. Spawning has long been over, but female frogs still come to the pond to drink. The pond is full of common toad tadpoles. They eat anything... A May beetle on the water surface. She's not engaged in bullfighting; she empties the bag of tagged frogs that we are releasing. Here, they haven't had time to scatter yet... Green frogs are singing in a ditch on the way to the pond. Amplexus of green frogs. At the "Rost" base near the biological station, there are shining lights. It's a four-star recreation center. The biological station's lanterns are simpler, but they also attract May beetles. After the night's catch, we return to Zmiiv on foot. A goldfinch. A spadefoot toad for the herbarium. "Olyonka" (hairy chafer). I called out to them so they would turn around... A cuckoo. And here, in the photos, I will show the application of a secret technology for catching tailless creatures walking along the roads. We were catching spadefoot toads in the floodplain near Gyneevka. Usually, I ride on the "bull bar," but this time this honorable role fell to Olya. Spadefoot toads (like frogs sometimes) walk along the night road. They are clearly visible in the headlights. Jumping out of the car every time is long and inconvenient. It's easier to ride on the car's "bull bar," jumping off it when necessary. When the car brakes, the person sitting on the hood is literally thrown off by inertia. It's a bit tiring to climb back on every time. Spadefoot toads try to hop away; you have to jump after them. At low engine speeds, the engine gets very hot, and it's simply hot to sit on the hood. This is where a seat with elastic bands comes in handy. In the box is the catch. The next day, she complained of sore legs. I wonder why? We drove to a floodplain lake. We collected an interesting sample. The caught frogs also need to be washed here... ...and initially sorted. Dima was the main person on this trip, and he is directing the process in this frame. Once upon a time (long ago), he started working with green frogs in his second-year practical studies in Haidary. He entered graduate school in St. Petersburg, defended his master's thesis on lampbrush chromosome types, and entered postgraduate studies in St. Petersburg. The main task of this trip was to collect material for Dima's work for the next year. And this is Dobrytsky pond. The entire bottom is covered with common toad tadpoles (the turbidity stirred up by my feet is on them)... ...the entire bank is lined with trees felled by beavers. Do you see the ant trail leading to a fallen tree? And this is the most powerful spawning cauldron of frogs I have ever seen (and heard)! All these are male Pelophylax esculentus. From the edges, females approach the cauldron, contributing to the multi-voiced, deafening chorus. Frankly, I don't quite understand whether it's beneficial for males to sit in the middle of the cauldron. The fact is that a female will go to someone sitting on the edge. You can understand the sounds this cauldron makes from the video. Listen at a sufficient volume! Besides the powerful chorus of hybrid frogs, Pelophylax esculentus, you can hear tree frogs singing in the video. They are spawning nearby. Predators hunt frogs. This is a well-fed grass snake... ...(I was interested to confirm that the grass snake uses its tongue for orientation both in the air and underwater)... ...and a medicinal leech. An expressive face, right? Frog spawn. A male among the plant thickets, sprinkled with spawn. This one chose a good spot to wait for a female!

Amplexus of tree frogs. I was photographing it while standing in the pond in waders. My phone was in my shirt pocket, and the camera was under my waders on my chest. Returning to the car, I decided to walk waist-deep in the water along the dam. I saw, then something happened that I didn't even have time to realize: here I am walking, and here I am already swimming. It's very inconvenient to swim in waders, by the way! Most likely, I stepped with one foot into one of the beaver channels dug when the water level in the pond was much lower, and my other foot simply slipped off the slope at that moment. The phone and camera filled with water. Whether I can restore them, time will tell. I can put up with losing the phone (it served honestly for 4 years, got completely worn out, and had already started to malfunction seriously), but I feel very sorry for the camera (it's quite expensive, and I haven't used up its lifespan by far). I waited with tension to see if I could retrieve the photos from the card. As you can see, I did. I've arranged for attempts to repair the camera; whether it leads to anything good will become clear later...