June 28, 2020: Bobolinks and Ospreys

We took a trip to the coast of Maine this week for a little anniversary getaway, pandemic-style.

Plenty of distance here.

We found a gorgeous, quiet campground in Wiscasset, far enough off the main drag to be peaceful, but still with easy access to the great central coast areas of Boothbay, Damariscotta, Newcastle, Pemaquid, and Popham.  The Chewonki Campground is right on the Monstweag River, surrounded by tidal marshes and fields full of wildflowers.

Foggy sunrise is the standard on the Maine coast.

Tidal marshes along the Monstweag River change constantly throughout the day.

Some of the best birding was to be seen right there, including swallows, goldfinches, yellow warblers, and especially bobolinks which were plentiful, visible, and loud.

Yellow Warbler

Bobolink

The bobolinks liked to sit high in a tree with a good view of the field and sing their rambunctious song, although the bright sky behind them made them difficult to capture in a photo.

Every now and then this one would fly down to sit on the tallest stem in the field, and then fly back up to a tall tree.  The bobolink's habitat is that of tall grasslands which is probably why I haven't seen one of these before - we don't have a lot of wild grasslands in New Hampshire - but I'm hoping that as the fields in Meredith's Page Pond Town Forest are restored we will have this special habitat in town and we'll be able to host a wider range of birds such as these.

Wildflower fields attract a different set of birds, bees, and butterflies than found in forests.

 

There are so many wonderful places to visit with nature in the Wiscasset vicinity that we couldn't possible see them all in a week.  The most spectacular vista we saw was probably Pemaquid Point.

Pemaquid Point at the western edge of Muscongus Bay.

I kept my eye open for whales and dolphins, but saw none, though we did see a couple of seals.  A bit up John's River, Pemaquid Harbor and the historic colonial community were also very picturesque.

 

But the best nature moment came when we were hiking in the LaVerna Preseve in Bristol, along the western shore of Muscongus Bay (from here you're looking out at Monhegan Island, some twelve miles offshore).  Along the trail on the shore of Muscongus Bay Linda saw an osprey nest with a white head poking up above the sticks.

Osprey nest at LaVerna Preserve.

As we watched quietly, one of the residents spread its wings and took off right over us.

 

It then spent the next 15 or so minutes flying off somewhere behind the trees, then circling back in a well-defined flight pattern where it flew over the nest, circled downwind, then came up into the wind and landed gently on the nest.  Sometimes it would just do a touch-and-go, not landing but appearing to drop something down into the nest.

Osprey on approach to runway 16R.

We wondered if we were bothering it by standing there, but thought that unlikely considering there is a constant flow of hikers walking by all day long - the nest is literally feet from the trail.  More likely we think it was collecting food or nest material and bringing it to the nest.  The male osprey typically brings the building materials, while the female arranges them to suit her domestic fancy.  The male also usually brings all the food to the nest during nesting season, while the female tends to the eggs and chicks.  Whatever the activity was, we enjoyed seeing the nesting behavior of a bird we see regularly in the Lakes Region.

Back at Wicwas, it was nice to see familiar faces again;  mother mallard and her seven not-so-little ducklings came by the very first evening home to greet us.

They tend to visit us twice a day, morning and evening.

As for a quick check on the loons, they are still hanging in there, dealing with the double challenge of heat and now low water - the lake is down several inches from when they nested.  But both pairs are still on their nests, so we're still hopeful for chicks.  They should be hatching just about one week from now - we'll let you know as soon as there is any news!

June 21, 2020: Summer Flowers are Here

Happy Fathers Day to all the dads out there! 

The summer heat arrived just in time for Father's Day, and the summer flowers are loving it; they're expressing themselves with brilliant colors from all corners of the spectrum.  I will let them speak for themselves.

Orange Hawkweed (Hieracium aurantiacum)

And the yellow variety (Hieracium caespitosum)

Tiger Swallowtail (Papilio glaucus) on Linda's Lobelia (not wild)

Bunchberry (Cornus canadensis)

Daises and Lupines

Oxeye Daisey (Leucanthemum vulgare)

Ohio Spiderwort (Tradescantia ohiensis)

 

Not wild, but pretty

Sheep Laurel (Kalmia angustifolia)

Lupine (Lupinus)

With a customer

Mapleleaf viburnum (Viburnum acerifolium)

I'll mention one concern about the heat:  the loons.  The Bryant Island nest is completely exposed to the sun all day long, and with clear, hot days one after another the loons have had no relief for days on end.  On top of that, with yesterday being the solstice, there's 15 and half hours of sun beating on them each day. The Harris Cove nest has a much better site with a good covering of bushes, but even they must be suffering.   It will be a remarkable parenting effort if either pair can keep their eggs cool enough to be viable.  We'll know in a couple more weeks.  

Until then, dads, granddads, and everyone, know that we are thinking of you even if we can't be with you, and take the time to smell the flowers.

June 14, 2020: Great Crested Flycatcher

Ever since the spring birds started arriving I've been hearing a loud, sharp, rising bird call coming from somewhere high in the trees.  I couldn't find the artisan producing this distinct sound, nor could I figure out from the guide books who it was.  Eventually I was so frustrated by it that I went to the Merlin bird app (from Cornell Ornithology Lab) and worked my through all the bird calls, starting with the most likely birds in our area, and finally I found it.  There was no doubt when I heard the recording of the Great Crested Flycatcher that this was my bird. 

I never would have guessed it was in the flycatcher family since the other common flycatchers I know - the eastern phoebe and the eastern wood-peewee don't make such a sharp call.  The great-crested does have a song similar to the other flycatchers, and I have likely many times attributed its song to one of these other flycatchers.  The great crested flycatcher spends its days high in the trees searching out insects and worms, which is why it's not commonly seen.  This is from the identification information from the Ornithology Lab:

"When the male sings, it's to be heard, not to see or be seen. He picks a singing perch within the canopy, well away from branch ends. In contrast, hunting perches require an unobstructed view of potential prey and unobstructed flight paths to them, whether the prey are in the air or on leaves or twigs. Both sexes favor hunting from dead branches with a backdrop of foliage for cover."

Several days later, when I heard it calling close by in the morning I went looking once again, and this time I caught the elusive rascal - it was hunting from the top of a dead branch just as the book instructed him to.

Great Crested Flycatcher (Myiarchus crinitus)

It's a pretty bird, with a lemon-yellow belly and a small (not very great!) crest on its head.  Here are two interesting facts about the great crested:  One, they like to use shed snake skins in their nests; and two, although they are flycatchers they also eat fruit, consuming them whole and then regurgitating the pits.  (Most birds peck at fruit and eat just the flesh.)  These are common birds in our area; once you know their call you'll probably notice them frequently, even if you never see one.

Waiting for the next unsuspecting insect to fly by.

Two weeks ago I shared a picture of a ground nest, guessing it was the nest of a hermit thrush or a veery.  This week those three blue eggs were replaced with three hungry mouths waiting for mom or dad to return with an insect or three.

Two mouths closed up when they realized I wasn't bring food.

So cute to see these little birds with giant mouths.  Hopefully they will soon be flying off to the trees where they will be safer.

All of New Hampshire - except the very northern tip - is in an "abnormally dry" state  [Ref:  NOAA] and the ground is already is already quite parched.  We did get one short downpour on Thursday afternoon, but it blew over quickly a left a nice evening on the lake.  There's been a single loon hanging around in Marion Cove on Lake Wicwas quite a bit lately, and I assumed it was the rogue loon that has been spending time here the past several years.  In the late afternoon following that brief shower the loon was here again; since the evening had calmed down nicely I went out for a paddle to enjoy the sights.

Rain drops bead up on the lily pads.

Larger Blue Flag (Iris versicolor), native to New England, is blooming widely around the lakes.

When I returned the single loon was still in the cove, preening.  I stopped and watched for a few minutes, taking some pictures in the soft post-storm light, and only after I looked at the pictures did I realize this bird had a band - a white band with what appeared to be a black dot - it was the male from the Bryant Island nest!

I wouldn't have been sure that was really a band if it hadn't appeared in several pictures.

I guess he was out for a long evening fishing trip - the loon equivalent of getting out of the house for a few hours?

June 7, 2020: The Loons have Nested

And not one pair, but two!  The second pair of loons arrived a couple of weeks ago and got straight to work, completing their nest even before the first pair.  The second pair is not banded so we can only assume it's the same pair we've had the past few years, but since the two pairs accepted each other very quickly and then nested in the same areas as in the past, it's a reasonable assumption.  And this pair seems to be learning.  Last year their nest was completely exposed to the sun and it was a hot June - neither of their eggs hatched.  This year they selected a spot that has a nice overhang of leaves so they'll have better protection from the sun - we'll see how they do.  When I saw the nest the bird on it was uncomfortable with my presence, even far beyond the sign placed to keep boaters away, so I quickly moved on.

The head would be held higher if it weren't on alert.  It would also be held much lower if it were really concerned.

.
When I paddled by the second nest, their house was still under construction, and they were clearly unfazed by my distant presence.  The female was busy building up a hummock while the male was out fishing. 

Mom on construction duty.

After a bit he came in to inspect the progress.

"Looking good to me."

He then decided to climb up on the nest to try it on for size.

These are clearly not land-going animals.

He even soiled his pretty white breast.

"I think it needs a bit more work...

what do you think?"

This is when I learned this was the male, as I got to see its leg band.

He plopped himself down and proceeded to do his share of building, reaching into the water to pull up sticks and carefully place them on the nest.

"Where's a good building stick?"

"This will work."

"Perfect spot for it."

I tried to take a video of the construction, but on a rolling kayak, a long ways away with a telephoto lens, it was impossible to hold the camera steady.  I'll include it anyway so you can at least see what he was doing.  (You can make the video full screen by clicking a square-shaped icon at the lower right of the picture.)

Relieved of construction duties for a while, mom headed out to stretch her wings and do a bit of preening. 

By the weekend it appeared this pair also was incubating eggs, as one loon was on the nest and the other was well out in the cove on guard duty.  So it appears we have two loon nests in progress.  I'll refer to our original banded pair (with the hummock nest) as the Rawson Island nest, and the newer (unbanded) pair as the Harris Cove nest. 

It will take about 28 days to see if we'll have any chicks hatch.  Until then all we can do is keep our distance, minimize boat wakes, and manage the lake level the best we can.  If you look at the hummock nest you'll see it is only a couple of inches above the water level; even a medium-size boat wake would easily swamp the nest.  The primary natural threat at this point is an eagle, especially for the exposed hummock nest.  Let's hope the loons are strong defenders of their castle from aerial attacks!