Down For The Duckweed

I saw him first feeding away on the duckweed for quite some time. Later the pair came down from the trees, she to feed and he to look over her. 

There were quite a few missed shots where one or the other faced the wrong way, moved too fast or buried their heads. I got one shot with a piece of weed in her beak, but he had his head down.

It was eerily quiet without the constant chatter of purple martins. Even the blackbirds had disappeared. I could actually hear the song of some of the smaller birds.

Extra: Darkness Beyond. An American Bullfrog.