September 20, 2026: The Great Migration

We spent this week walking on the bits of the White Mountains that found their way some 200 miles south to Cape Cod.  As the glacier that covered New Hampshire 20,000 years ago slowly worked its way southward, it ground huge amounts of rock into fine sand and gravel which was pushed southward by its leading edge.  When the glacier eventually melted, it deposited that pile of material off present day Massachusetts, forming the basis of Cape Cod.  Then as the ice to the north melted, the resulting rivers washed massive amounts of sand southward, which along with ocean currents, formed the unique shape of Cape Cod - the long arm out to Chatham and up and around to Provincetown.

After the glacier melted, Nantucket and Martha's Vineyard were connected to the mainland.

The sand and mud that collected in Cape Cod Bay and Nantucket Sound is now one of the most productive set of marshes and mudflats in the world.  There is an excellent display at the Cape Cod Museum of Natural History in Barnstable that describes the formation of the cape over the millennia, including what the future holds for this fragile land mass as climate changes accelerate.  Today, it's a huge feeding stop for millions of migrating birds as they make their long journey south for the winter.  One example is this flock of Tree Swallows that was circling over the marsh grasses while feeding on insects that hatch this time of year.

Tree Swallows

At times they would all align and fly in formation.

I did find one lost soul that was trying to catch up with the others.

I wonder if any of the tree swallows from Lake Wicwas visit the cape on their 4,500 mile trip to the Gulf Coast or the Caribbean.

Farther out on the mudflats in Cape Cod Bay was an unfathomable number of terns - mostly Common Terns, but probably some Roseate Terns mixed in. 

They sat preening on the mud for a long time.

Then suddenly the whole flock took flight in a long wave, maybe when a scout spotted a school of fish ready for picking out of the shallow water as the tide came in.

Terns need to consume a lot of food to fuel their 4,500 mile flight to South America.

In contrast to the huge flocks of terns and swallows, was this solitary Black-bellied Plover working the mudflats (my first time seeing this this bird).

Black-bellied Plover

It was calmly plucking worms, small crustaceans, bivalves, crabs, and any other living creatures from the mud with its long beak. 

This plover has already made a long trek from the artic where they breed at the very northern edge of Canada.  It may spend the winter here on the cape, or continue all the way down to South America, a trip of 12,000 miles!

On the other side of the cape, at the Monomoy Wildlife Refuge in Chatham, there were long lines of Cormorants resting on the sand bar.  

Cormorants on a sandbar ar Morris Island.

We have cormorants on New Hampshire lakes during the summer, and some of these may stop at Cape Cod on their way to the Gulf Coast, Mexico, or the Caribbean.  Cormorants travel less distance than many migratory birds.

Also at the Monomoy Wildlife Refuge was another solitary bird I'd never seen before, this one a raptor soaring over the narrow spit of land, on the hunt for small mammals rather than fish. 

Norther Harrier

A northern harrier can be identified by the clear demarcation of white belly and dark brown head at the neckline.

Farther west toward the mainland is the the Audubon Great Marsh Sanctuary in Barnstable, where we saw Great Egrets far out in the marsh, as well as some small, brightly colored crabs on the damp mud at low tide.

Look for tiny white specs in the marsh that are egrets.

Atlantic Marsh Fiddler Crab.

We only saw one interesting mammal species all week, but it was a treat:  Gray Seals.

A gray seal pokes its head up to check its surroundings.

Playing in the surf.

Weighing between 400 and 800 pounds, gray seals are much larger than harbor seals.  We saw several swimming north  at Nauset Beach along the eastern-most coast of the cape.  When we arrived at the beach there were large warnings about sharks.  When we saw the seals, we knew why!

Cape Cod is a gold mine of nature with widely varied habitats including open ocean, sand dunes, marshes, mudflats, and cedar forests. 

Nauset Beach

Monomoy Wildlife Refuge at Chatham.

Sunrise over Nantucket Sound

We always learn something new on our visits to Cape Cod, all while enjoying the beauty the cape offers.  Next week we'll be back checking on New Hampshire's progress towards autumn.

September 13, 2026: Beech Leaf Disease

Before we look at Beech Leaf Disease let's get an update on our loon chick, Pip.

Pip looks large when alone, but seen next to an adult, still has more growing to do.

Pip spends a lot of time alone these days, though at least one parent - probably the female - is still on the lake.  At this point, the tides have turned:  instead of Pip floating on the surface while mom fishes, it's now Pip that spends most of the time diving while mom soaks up the warm September rays.  I have to assume that Pip is successful with many dives, but still petitions mom for food when they're together.

I learned from the Loon Preservation Committee's most recent newsletter that juvenile loons are considered fledged when their primary (flight) feathers have grown to the point they can fly, which occurs at 11 to 13 weeks of age.  Thus our northern pair has now successfully fledged another loon, though I haven't observed Pip flying yet.

Pip will most likely remain on the lake into November or even December.

Now to beech leaf disease.  On a visit to the Hamlin-Eames-Smyth town forest last week, I came upon a large infestation of the nematode that causes beech leaf disease (BLD). 

Leaves affected by the BLD nematoad.

BLD is an invasive species believed to have its origin in Asia.  It was first detected in North America in Ohio in 2012 and made its way to New Hampshire by 2022.  It has now progressed as far north as Woodstock.  The nematodes enter leaf buds in the summer and fall, and the damage appears the following year when in the leaves exhibit dark bands between the veins.  It's most obvious when viewed from below with a bright sky above. 

Infested trees often die in 3-5 years, with larger trees surviving longer.  If New Hampshire loses its beech trees as currently expected, it will be a huge loss to the forest and the wildlife, especially having already lost the American Chestnut in the 1950s, which used to be the primary food source in eastern forests.  Today, beech is an important mast crop for many animals; it also provides excellent nest cavities in their sturdy trunks which can stand in the forest for years.  You can read more about BLD in this article by the UNH Extension Service.

Now let's move on to more pleasant sights seen this week, including fall wildflowers.

New England Asters

Asters, goldenrod, woodland sunflowers, and many other fall plants are important food for pollinators for their winter survival.

Woodland sunflower with a honeybee, which is not a native insect.

Nodding Ladies Tresses

Bumblebee on Goldenrod

And how about this great photo of a Gray Fox a friend and colleague from my working days at BAE Systems sent me:

He captured this photo with a trail camera, and it looks like a couple of this adult's offspring came back at night to romp around the area.

Thank you JH for sharing these!

I'll close with another video, this one of a bumblebee working the goldenrod.

The animals are starting to build up their reserves for the coming winter!

September 6, 2026: The Magnificent Bryozoan

On one paddle around the lake this week I discovered enough items of interest to fill four journals, but I'll restrain myself to just a couple. There were pretty flowers and ripe berries along the shore, fish surfacing to catch insects, turtles sunning themselves on logs, but the most unique was a large, round bryozoan community clinging to the end of a long submerged branch.

Blob on a Stick:  Magnificent Bryozoa (Pectinatella magnifica)

I've seen these before and always think they're an amphibian's egg mass - frog, salamander - before remembering no, it's the wrong location and the wrong time of year for eggs.

The colony formed at the tip of a long, submerged branch.

Slowly it comes to me that it's a colony of hundreds of thousands of microscopic organisms called Bryozoa.  These are filter-feeding organisms that have tiny cilia that reach out to capture algae, phytoplankton, and other organic debris which helps keep clear the water.  But they also require clean water to survive, so their presence is a good sign in a waterbody.  Early on my paddle I did find a small accumulation of cyanobacteria.

Cyanobacteria, likely Gloeotrichia echinulata.  (Thank you MT for help with identification!)

My research on whether magnificent bryozoa reduces blue-green algae is mixed.  Some references state bryozoa do take in cyanobacteria, but also found that they expel much of it alive.  [Ref:  SébastienAutret,MariaInesMoreiradeGouveia,AudreyVanhove,SéverineAllegra,FrançoiseGirardot.Assessmentofthecyanobacteriarisk,consideringtheinvasivebryozoanPectinatellamagnifica:methodologicalapproach.AquaEcOmics,Mar2025,EvianlesBains,France.,2025]

Most of the glob is a gelatinous sphere which supports the colony - all the living organisms are on the outside where their cilia can reach out to grab their prey. 

Note they are also expanding down the branch.

Though they look creepy, they're completely harmless to the point you can touch them, but if you do, be careful to not damage them so they can continue to perform their work.  

The second item of note was much larger, and though just as interesting, not as exciting.

A large floating mat of organic material.

I found these large mats of floating organic material in several shallow areas with low waterflow.  They  show the process of the eutrophication of a lake.  When organic material - mostly aquatic plants - dies where oxygen levels are low, it decomposes at a slow enough rate that it accumulates faster than it decays, which results in these large floating mats.  Once they form, they can grow quickly as more organic material collects along the periphery. 

Over time they thicken such that plants grow on them, pulling out water and dropping more organic materials. 

Pickerel Weed taking up residence on a floating mat.

Eventually they become thick and firm enough to support trees, and that one can walk on them without sinking down into the water on which they float.  In the not too distant future - perhaps in my grandchildren's lifetime - one may be able to walk to some of the islands in Lake Wicwas that are currently separated by shallow marshes or bogs.

A great local example of this process, where you can actually walk on a lake now covered by these organic mats, is the Philbrick-Cricenti Bog in New London.  

A boardwalk on the Philbrick-Cricenti bog.

I highly recommend a visit if you've never been there - it's quite an experience.  You can find more information about that bog here.

Early this year we had a skunk visiting the yard on a regular basis.  This week, it's been a porcupine!  It seems to really enjoy feasting on clover and other plants in the yard.  It truly is not concerned with with its safety as it just continued dining as we stood there and took pictures. 

And when we decided it was time to shoo it away, it was very reluctant to leave its dinner table, but after we made enough racket, it finally decided to vamoose.

I'll end with a few other sights from my morning paddle.

Painted turtles collecting solar rays to strengthen their shells for winter hibernation.

Bladderwort

Crows, just hanging out.

An osprey soaring overhead, looking for breakfast.

September is a beautiful time on the lake.

August 30, 2026: Jack Pine

On a recent hike to Mt. Chocorua I passed through a rare natural habit, so rare in fact that it's recognized by the N.H. Natural Heritage Bureau as a critically imperiled (S1) natural community due to its small population and limited habitat.  It's the Jack Pine Rocky Ridge Natural Community, dominated by the Jack Pine tree (Pinus banksiana).  

Jack pines set root in soil held in small crevices in rock scraped bare by glaciers

In New Hampshire the jack pine is a remnant from the colder climate of the last ice age.  Because it can tolerate cold temperatures and harsh growing conditions, it was a dominant species as the glaciers melted.  As conditions improved over time, warmer climate species were able to take hold and crowd out the jack pine in most of New Hampshire and the Northeast. 

Short, sturdy needles retain moisture through dry, cold, windy winters.

Farther north in Canada's boreal forests where the climate is harsher and the growing season shorter, less hearty trees can't thrive, and jack pine continues to be a prevalent species.  But on the high elevation, wind-swept ledges of the Chocorua Range, jack pine is one of the few plants that can eke out a living in the thin acidic soils left after the ground was scraped bare by the glaciers. 

The barren landscape of Carter's Ledge on Mt, Chocorua.

Here, where less hardy trees can't compete, this rugged, boreal conifer is at the far southern edge of its present range.  The bent and twisted form of the jack pine on the Chocorua Range is testament to the harsh conditions and strong winds that can occur in the White Mountains even on mid-summer days.  

Jack pines typically have serotinous cones than remain unopened on trees for years until a forest fires with temperatures over 120 F releases their seeds. 

But jack pines in New Hampshire generally have semi- or non-serotinous cones that can release seeds on just a very hot summer day which keeps our small populations in place without fires.  However, according to Tom Wessels, the community on Chocorua has many more serotinous cones than the other New Hampshire communities.  [The Granite Landscape, Tom Wessels, 2001, Countryman Press, pg 99]  Wessels attributes this difference to the pines on Chocorua having migrated uphill from lower elevations that had frequent forest fires after the glaciers retreated.

An open jack pine cone with seeds dispersed.

Somehow, on these harsh, open ledges, jack pine continue to defy the elements, with each tree growing in the most precarious location, hanging on until eventually a strong enough wind brings its demise.

A Jack Pine clinging to the rim of Carter Ledge.

You can explore this rare community (there are only three known communities in the state) by following the Piper, Nickerson Ledge, and Carter Ledge Trails up to Carter Ledge.  You'll know it when you get there.  

Mt. Chocorua (left) and Middle Sister (right) seen from Carter Ledge.

More information on the jack pine and the jack pine natural community can be found in the book The Nature of New Hampshire by Sperduto and Kimball, or online in the Manual of Natural Communities of New Hampshire.

There's another interesting natural curiosity that anyone who's climbed Mt. Chocorua has probably noticed - this dramatic basalt dike that the Liberty trail crosses near the summit.

I'm not well versed in geology, so here's an edited version of what AI provided as a description of this particular formation.  AI referenced The Geology of the Percy Quadrangle by Chapman, and Geochemistry of mafic dikes in the Adirondack mountains by Coish and Sinton.

Hundreds of millions of years ago,  intense tectonic pressure deep underground cracked open the lighter-colored granite bedrock of the White Mountains.  Dark, molten basaltic magma was forced upward into these vertical fractures (this is called magmatic injection) and cooled relatively quickly to form narrow vertical sheets of rock known as dikes. 

As this ribbon of magma cooled between the granite walls, it shrunk and fractured at regular intervals, creating a pattern of horizontal fractures called columnar or sheet jointing.  These perpendicular breaks segmented the rock into blocky layers.  

After the glaciers stripped away the surface soil and exposed the peak, New Hampshire's weather and freeze-thaw cycles took over.  The dark basaltic rock is softer and more susceptible to chemical and physical weathering than the surrounding granite, so the dike eroded faster.  Rain and melting snow seeped into the dike's fractures, froze, expanded, and popped out blocks of the dark rock leaving the step-like features.

 Here's a close up view of the eroding dike.

The Liberty Trail crosses this fracture several times.  Just east of the summit on the Piper Trail is an area of basalt cracking where the rock is course grained and breaking away.

We spent this week north of the notches in Lancaster near the Pilot Range, which has its own interesting geology; I need to read more about that mountain range formation.  And right here at Lake Wicwas there's plenty of interesting geology to be found in the ledges and talus fields of Crockett's Ledge - maybe I'll dive into that someday.  Anyway, I didn't spend time on the lake this week, so yesterday I poked around a bit to see what's blooming here in late August.  I found the usual late summer flowers, and a couple of new ones including a foxglove and a meadow-rue.

Purple False Foxglove

A meadow-rue, perhaps King of the Meadow 

Self-heal

Yellow Wood Sorrell

Turtlehead, a fall favorite of mine.

I'll close with a sign of the waning summer:  Cat-o-nine tails starting to shed their seed cones.

There's an even more ominous sign hiding in the background, which becomes more evident with a change in focus.

Yes, leaves are starting to turn.