Sunday, November 8, 2026

November 8, 2026: November?

November has been kind to us so far.  On Wednesday, when the air was dead calm and the temperature rose to 74 degrees, I took a long slow paddle around the lake to soak in all the beauty that November day has to offer.
Looking north from the south end of Wicwas
From one end of the lake to the other, even out in the middle, there wasn't a ripple to be found.
And looking south from the north end.

There isn't much color left in the hills, just an occasional bright flash of yellow.
Even most of the blueberry bushes have shed their leaves now.  Only a few stubborn bushes in sheltered spots are still crimson red.

As I paddled slowly along the shoreline a few interesting items came into view such as this bird nest I'd paddled by multiple times this summer and never saw hidden in the leafed branches.
This nest is on a branch reaching out over the lake from a small island.  Eastern Kingbirds build their nests over water, so that's a likely homeowner.

Then this blueberry bush, suspended out  over the lake by a good two feet caught my eye. 

As the shoreline around it eroded away, the roots of the blueberry and the moss held the soil together. The roots now are exposed to air as they pass through what used to be soil and down through the lake and into the ground below.

I was more than three quarters of the way around the lake and hadn't seen any animal life - not even a goose - when I thought I saw a pair of ducks on the water.  I stopped to watch.  As I sat still, they came closer, and I realized the two shapes were in fact the body and tail of an otter!  It looked at me curiously for a moment or two.

Then continued on its way to do whatever it is that otters do.


If I only see one animal on an excursion, well, an otter is one to see!  But farther along I did find one more critter, one a lot less unusual.

Finally, one of the larger beaver lodges on the lake continues to grow.
A new collection of long stick or trunks have appeared on this lodge.

I sometimes wonder how a beaver manages to haul those large pieces of wood up on top of its lodge.


Eventually the reality of November will come, and the longer it's delayed, the greater the shock will be.  But until then, let's enjoy this extended fall season!


Sunday, November 1, 2026

Nov 1, 2026: A Sawdust Puzzle

I came across a very visible pile of sawdust beside the trail on a walk a few weeks ago and have been working on determining what created it.  

The debris was pushed out of a single hole in a tree.  It was very fresh and light so it must have just recently formed, created from chewed up wood excavated from the center of the tree and pushed out to dispose of it.  The pile was so large that it would be hard to miss.
The tree has been dead for a long time with the bark so aged I couldn't tell what kind of tree it was, but I'm guessing either hemlock or pine.  It snapped off about 20' up, had many woodpecker holes in the remaining trunk, and plenty of fungi growing on it.  


The shape and size of the exit hole provided some information about the animal working inside.

And the fine sawdust rather than larger wood shavings or chips provided more clues.
The most likely candidates include carpenter ants or sawyer beetles such as the pine sawyer.  Putting all the evidence together, I concluded a carpenter ant colony probably made this pile.  The fine dust fits their methods, the hole is the right size, and perhaps most importantly is the size and speed of the pile forming.  A large ant colony could easily make a sawdust pile this size in a short time.  Plus the woodpecker holes in the trunk are indicative of a pileated woodpecker going after carpenter ants, though that was clearly some time ago based on the weathering of the holes.  But as the tree rotted further, a new colony might have moved into to what was previously still hard wood.  

Here's an example of how much excavation a colony of ants can execute.
A white pine hollowed out by carpenter ants.

It's amazing what a tiny animal with a pair of sharp pinchers can accomplish. 
Black Carpenter Ant


Our fantastic fall weather just goes on and on with more days in the 60s this week, great conditions to be out on the lake.  On one of our trips this week we saw an eagle still spending time here.
A bald eagle watches over the lake from an Island in Marion Cove.

We tried to sneak by it with a wide berth, but just as we passed it decided it would move on.  I try not to disturb wildlife, but sometimes it happens, and when it does, at least it might provide a good photograph opportunity.
Take off




The eagle didn't travel far; we soon we came across it again, this time perched at the very top of a white pine on Sheep Island.
At the very top of the food chain - and the world.


Warm, hazy October nights can bring about sunrises with colors that aren't seen at other times of the year.  
Sunrise with a full moon setting at 7:10am, October 26.

It also helps that the sunrise occurs quite late in the morning in October.  But that has changed with the end of daylight savings time.  Sunrise will be back at 7:00 by the winter solstice - when we have only nine hours of sunlight each day.


I'll leave you with a short video a friend from my work days sent me.  This was taken south of the Lakes Region in Goffstown, NH.

Thank you Jim H. for sharing this great video!




Sunday, October 25, 2026

October 25, 2026: A Farewell to Pip

It's been four weeks since I've seen either our loon chick Pip or its mom, so I'm going to assume that they have both left Wicwas for their winter home on the Atlantic Ocean.  Their departure is a full two months earlier than last year's chick Spangle, which stubbornly stayed on the lake until December 5th, only five days before Lake Wicwas was fully iced over.  This year the Wicwas northern pair started early, nesting on a tiny island in a well protected area sometime before May 24th.

One of the northern pair adults on nest-duty on May 31st.

Pip hatched right on schedule on June 17th and was immediately off the nest and in the lake with its parents. 

Pip on June 17th
The next day their second egg hatched and both chicks were safe and sound, seen off the nest and well protected by their parents.

Climbing up under dad's wing - note the leg band.

July 18th

But alas, the second, smaller chick didn't last long.  Its fate is unknown, but by June 19th, only one chick was still present.  Two parents with only once chick to care for meant that Pip was well fed and grew rapidly.


As fast at Pip grew, it still took a while for its body to catch up to the size of its feet.

By early August the baby fluff was mostly shed and Pip was looking like a young adolescent.  
Pip on August 7th.
By now Pip was diving well and starting to catch its own fish, though the parents continued to deliver the larger fish that helped Pip grow rapidly.  
Pip with mom on September 12th
The last time I saw Pip was on October 4th.  With no sightings since then, I assume Pip and mom have left Wicwas.  With a successful nesting, mom will likely return next year (she's not banded so we'll never know for sure).  And Pip?  We'll also never know what happens, but in four or five years, when a "rogue" loon appears on Lake Wicwas, we'll wonder if that's our Pip come home.
My farewell visit from Pip on October 4, 2026


The Lakes Region is now in the waning days of foliage season, and it has been a good one. 


Most of the bright red and orange maples leaves are now on the ground, letting the yellows and deep oranges of beech, aspen, oak, and birch take the leading role.


Blueberries and huckleberries lining the shore are playing an important supporting role with their crimson foliage contrasting against green needles and gray tree trunks.


The weather in October has been just as beautiful as the foliage, with good paddling conditions.  There are still surprises to be found hiding around the lake.
A Canada goose hides motionless as I paddle by.

I'll close with a few scenes from the top of West Rattlesnake Mountain just north of Squam Lake where a hiking buddy and I lingered to watch an October night unfold.  
Overlooking Squam Lake as the end of the day nears.

A peaceful, even romantic place.


It's a beautiful spot, with a wide, gentle trail to descend with headlamps after nightfall.  



Sunday, October 18, 2026

October 18, 2026: Days are Getting Shorter

The days are getting shorter, the nights cooler, and nature is adjusting to the changes. Our trees are perhaps the most obvious change, but the animals are adapting too. This bobcat trotting down the road was sporting a mid-weight fur coat it didn't own just a few weeks ago. 

The bobcat's coat is a little more substantial than back in August.

It will only get thicker as the season progresses. 

A much appreciated aspect of fall is the end of mosquitoes and other annoying insects, but that also means more of our birds are heading south too.  And I haven't seen our loons for over a week now - could they have left the lake already?  There are still insects in the air, including dragonflies, but only the late season varieties such as this Autumn Meadowhawk warming itself on a dark surface to keep its muscles warm enough to chase its prey.

Autumn Meadowhawk (Sympetrum vicinim)

This is the last species of dragonfly to be seen in the Lakes Region as temperatures drop.  It can survive mild frosts and may be active into November before succumbing to the cold.  Before they die they will have mated and deposited their eggs at the waterline on wet muddy areas or in very shallow water.  I wonder if their eggs are impacted by lake drawdowns.

I saw several more meadowhawks sunning on rocky shorelines on my paddles looking for loons this week.  I haven't heard from anyone else seeing Pip or mom, so let me know if you have any sightings.  I did see a pair of eagles soaring over the lake though, taking advantage of the northwest wind pushing against the warm shoreline to gain altitude. 

A pair of bald eagles over Lake Wicwas


The cool weather has brought more foggy mornings to the Lakes Region such as this one on Wicwas with the tops of the tall pines illuminated by the rising sun and maple trees looming through the mist on the far side of the lake.


Fog developed again on the morning of a hike in the Squam Range just north of Squam Lake.  The first summit, Mt. Morgan, was totally socked in when we arrived.

No view from Mt. Morgan on Wednesday.

But by the time we reached Mt. Percival the sky was brightening and we were treated to watching the clouds break over the valley.  

Fog clears over Squam Lake with the Rattlesnakes poking through on the left.

Usually I see the morning fog burn off from below - it was a rare treat to observe the same phenomenon from the eagle's perspective.

It's amazing what Mother Nature can do with her paintbrush dipped in nothing but water.  

Thank you fellow hikers for another challenging excursion on a beautiful fall New England day.

Hiking through a New England hardwood forest in October.

There is still plenty of color in the forest, but the colors on the ground signal the end is near.

But not all is over yet.  The late-season asters are still blooming.

Heath asters are the last asters to bloom.

And the fuzzy, warm-coated native bumblebees are hanging in there like the hardy New Englanders they are.

A bumblebee collecting late season pollen from the heath asters.


There are even new plants with confused timing just starting to grow.

A variety of the "Pink" family (Caryophyllaceae) which includes Sweet William.

Even though this pretty flower is not native to North America, it has naturalized here and often seeds itself.  Mother nature sure has a lot of colors on her palate.


P.S.  If you've been following the story of cyanobacteria on Lake Kanasatka, here's an update from the New Hampshire Bulletin.