Sunday, October 25, 2020

October 25, 2020: The Twins Return

Earlier this summer (see August 16, 2020) I spent a few minutes watching a pair of young fawns cavorting around the edge of Lake Wicwas, chasing each other up and down the shoreline like a couple of energetic kids.  Well, they're still around, and I've bumped into them several times over the past couple of weeks.  They are always together and seem to have separated from their mother, though I'm sure mom is nearby.  One morning this week I caught them right at the water's edge having breakfast.

Breakfast time on the lake.


One sibling seems a bit larger than the other, and that one was ready to play, dashing off into the woods, hoping to be chased.

"Tag, you're it!"

But the smaller fawn was more intent on filling up its belly, knowing this is the time to eat as much as possible to put on the thick layer of fat needed to get through the approaching winter.  Besides, it seemed he wanted to visit with the wood ducks that were approaching.

"Good morning Wood Ducks."

Having not drawn a playmate, big brother or sister came back shortly to check in.  

It's no fun to play alone.

The two munched for a while on the tender shoreline flora before slowly sauntering back up into the trees to enjoy the day.  But the wood ducks came back about an hour when the lighting was better and I remembered just why these are my favorite ducks to see on the lake.  

Mr. and Mrs. Wood Duck

The hen (female) has a wonderfully bright eyeline and a bright blue patch on its wings, and the coloring on the drake (male) is so sharp and so brilliant that he looks like he's a painted decoy you'd see in a gift shop.

Back to the deer, the rut season has begun.  Just this morning I came across this fresh rut where a buck scraped up the ground with its hooves to leave its mark and its scent as an indicator for does and other bucks in the area.

The rut is about 3' long with dirt thrown over 6'.

The two new fawns won't mate this year.  A male may take several years before it's strong enough to compete with other bucks for a mate, while a doe will start breeding in its second year, when she's 18 months old.  For now, these two teenagers will just enjoy themselves, at least until the reality of their first New England winter arrives.

And winter is coming.  Though we still haven't had a killing frost, this week's wind and rain stripped most of the remaining leaves off the maples, while the oak and beech still provide lots of yellow and burnt orange in the hills.

Looking out over Lake Winnipesaukee and the Ossipee mountains from Mt Gunstock.

That picture was taken from Gunstock Mountain on Thursday, a beautiful, calm, and warm fall day.  If you have ever hiked on any of the mountains in the Belknap Range - Gunstock, Rowe, Major, for example - you may know that you were standing on an old volcano.  The semi-circular Belknap mountains form two-thirds of a ring dike, the remnant of a volcano dating from the Jurassic period 150-200 millions years ago.  The other third of the ring dike is partly under lake Winnipesaukee and includes Rattlesnake Island.  If you look at a topographical map you can see how these mountains make up the volcanic ring.

The Belknap Range Ring Dike.

Finally, today, right about noontime, on a bright sunny fall day in the Hamlin Conservation Area, I had this beautiful scene bestowed up me.


It reminded me to give thanks every day for the beauty that is always around us.


Sunday, October 18, 2020

October 18, 2020: Micro-monsters

I recently came across an article about dragonflies that reminded me of a green-eyed monster I saw this past August.

The business end of a dragonfly.

What struck me in the article was the reference to dragonflies as "micro-monsters" based on the fact that they will eat anything they can get their teeth on.

OK, they don't really have teeth, but they do have very strong mandibles.

The main content of the article however, is about how dragonflies are being used for research into environmental health, in particular, mercury levels.  Because dragonflies are found on every continent except Antarctica, are physiolgocially similar around the world, and are relatively easy to catch (the article focuses on a high school in Vermont that does much of the field work) they provide a good baseline for studying mercury levels throughout the world.  [Ref: Nicolas Brulliard, "Mercury Rising?", National Parks Conservation Association, Spring 2017]


Mercury is a heavy metal found naturally in rocks and is toxic to wildlife and humans.  The burning of coal is one of the main contributors to mercury content in lakes and oceans as wind and rain distribute the released mercury around the planet.  That's why we need to limit consumption of fish such as swordfish and yes, even the fish from lakes in New Hampshire, because fish accumulate mercury in their flesh.  Dragonflies also accumulate mercury in their bodies, so by collecting samples of dragonfly larva for analysis these student-scientists are helping us better understand mercury levels in the environment.  The good news is that due to smoke stack scrubbers and reduced coal burning in the United States, mercury emissions have decreased over the past 30 years, though this has not yet impacted mercury levels in our fish.  [Ref:  David Neils and Kirsten Nelson, "Status and trends of mercury in fish tissue in New Hampshire waterbodies", 1992–201 6,  NH DES, Nov 2018]

It's been a couple of weeks since I've seen a dragonfly, but they are still around.  The latest I remember seeing one is November 4th, this pretty Meadowhawk that sought shelter in our house.

A Meadowhawk still active in November.

It also appears that all four members of the loon family are still here, at least part of the time.  It's getting more difficult every day to tell the chicks apart from their parents as the parents get more and more gray and the chicks gain darker coloring on their wings. 

Harold or Betty.  Note the light colored beak.

The most obvious difference is that the juveniles don't have the distinctive neck band that the parents have.

Striped neck ring and dark beak on the adult.

I'm still unable to tell the two chicks apart as they are quite similar in size and appearance.

Harold and Betty in a quiet moment.

As I went on my way one of the two waved goodbye to me.  They sure have huge feet already!

That's one big propeller.

Maybe the family is lingering at the lake to enjoy the last of the fall foliage - like many of us are doing!



Much of the color has now moved down to a lower elevation now, especially the maples leaves.


But you can still find color in the Lakes Region if you look for it.
The shore of Turtle Island glows crimson with blueberry bushes on a bright fall day.

Early today:  Fog and frost add to the splendor of morning.



Sunday, October 11, 2020

October 11, 2020: Snow on the Rock Pile - (Important Update on the Eagle!)

Mother nature gave me my first glimpse of winter this week:  snow on the top of Mount Washington. 

A snow-capped Mount Washington behind the Mountain Ash berries on the summit of Mt. Roberts.

I had a beautiful hike with a good friend up in the Ossipee mountains on Friday, and there it was, the first snow, along with ice in the shallow ponds at 3000' elevation, still there after noon.  The foliage in the vast hardwoods throughout the Ossipee range was good, though a little muted at the highest elevations.

Turtleback Mountain and Lake Winnipeaukee from the summit of Black Snout.
   
Yellow birch and beech leaves glow along the High Ridge Trail.

There is a bit of sad news to report from Lake Wicwas this week.  Dean Cascadden reported that an injured eagle, first noticed by another Wicwas resident, was resting on the shoreline of Bryant Island, appearing very lethargic.  He called NH Fish and Game to report it and they said if it was still there 24 hours later they would come and assess the situation.  I went out to take a look, and by that time it has made its way up on shore and was roosting on railing, but it was the saddest, most sickly looking bird I've ever seen.  

A very sick-looking bald eagle.  Photo by Dean Cascadden.

The next day, being still on the island, Fish and Game went out and had to euthanize it - it had been shot by a shotgun and could not be saved.  I'd like to think it was a case of mistaken identity as hunting season is in progress (as noted by the shotgun blasts around the lake) but it's hard to imagine any bird could be mistaken for a bald eagle....

UPDATE:  After publishing this entry, a reader (many thanks Tony!) sent me this letter from Iain MacLeod, Executive Director at the Squam Lakes Natural Science Center.  Apparently the initial assessment by Fish and Game of a shotgun injury was incorrect.  A later necropsy determined that the eagle was "likely" on the losing end of a fight with another eagle.  And this bird has a well known history, being banded in 1999, and since 2003 has been breeding on Squam lake where she has raised 26 chicks!  There is more information in Iain's letter, including, while still sad to lose an eagle, it is all part of the normal - and healthy - circle of life.  Here is Iain's letter (apparently not everyone has picked up on how to spell "Wicwas):  

The old female eagle from our Squam nest was found mortally injured this week. She was found on an island on Wickwas Lake and subsequently died. She was initially thought to have been shot, but x-rays revealed no shot and the cause of death was determined to likely be from a fight with another eagle. This location is well outside her territory and means perhaps that she was ousted from her breeding territory and was roaming into other territories.

 

She was hatched/banded in 1999 at Little Quabbin Island in Ware, MA. She has been breeding at our nest on Squam since 2003.

 

I saw her on February 18 of this year along the Squam River in Ashland and I assume that she was the breeding female this year at our nest. On May 22 I photographed an adult eagle with the two small eaglets at the nest on Big Loon Island and that adult was banded (presumably our girl).

 

So, it will be interesting to see what happens around the nest this winter and next spring. We perhaps now have a new younger female in residence.

 

Although it’s sad to lose her (she has raised 26 chicks here), this is all part of life as an eagle. The leading cause of mortality in NH’s wild Bald Eagles is fatal injuries from fights with other eagles – a sign of a healthy population with plenty of young fit eagles ready to take over territories.  

 

Iain MacLeod

Executive Director

Squam Lakes Natural Science Center

PO Box 173, 23 Science Center Road

Holderness, NH 03245

Phone: 603-968-7194 x123

www.nhnature.org

On a happier note, Harold and Betty's parents did return!  There were happy reunions upon their arrival from their short time away.

The happy reunion.

But the parents seem to be leaving regularly, only to come back again, and in the process the chicks are adapting.  On Wednesday Harold and Betty were back in Marion Cove, again searching for their parents.  

But this time their calls were much less mournful, and had more of a demanding tone, kind of like, "Come on mom and dad, when are you going to get back - it's time to eat."


And yesterday, while Lake Hosting at the Wicwas boat ramp, Marge Thorpe observed the terminus of a training flight when the entire family came zooming in for a landing.  They can fly!  Normally we expect the parents to depart the lake weeks before the juveniles do, but this makes me wonder if Harold and Betty are now tagging along with their parents on their flights, so maybe when the parents leave, the kids will go with them.  From this point on I'd be most interested in hearing about any loon sightings you might have on the lake.  (You can leave a comment below or send an email to lakewicwas@aol.com.)

I'll close with a few displays of nature's beauty in New Hampshire.  If you can get out this afternoon or tomorrow you'll still find plenty of good leaf peeping opportunities in the Lakes Region.








Sunday, October 4, 2020

October 4, 2020: A Melancholy Day on the Lake

It's possible our loon parents have left the lake, and Harold and Betty are missing them terribly.  Yesterday I found them together, swimming slowly all the way down in Marion Cove, searching for their parents.  

Harold and Betty in perhaps their first exploration of Marion Cove.

It was the first time I've seen them north of Bryant Island, let alone all the way around the corner in our cove.  I'm certain they were out trying to find mom and dad.  

"Where are you mom?"

One of them was constantly wailing out the saddest sounds I've ever heard a loon make.   Click below to listen (sorry for all the background noise).

One of the two siblings showed me their wings and their maturing flight feathers which will soon be taking them off the only body of water they have ever known, and on to the foreign, salt-water world of the Atlantic Ocean.

"I can fly with these now!"

They are certainly looking like young adults now.


I wonder what it is that makes the parents decide it's time to leave their offspring all on their own.  Do they wait until the chicks have proven adept at fishing and have made good progress in their flight lessons?  Or is it something in their instincts that just makes them up and leave one day, never to see their kids again?  It's hard enough for parents and children when the kids leave the nest even when you know you see them again - I can't imagine what it's like for a loon family at separation time, but I guess those melancholy sounds give me an idea.

On a happier note, (no pun intended), our trees seems to have come though the drought this summer just fine.  I had wondered if the foliage would be muted this year due to a lack of rain but that doesn't seem to be the case.


They may not be as brilliant as some years, but I still give them a 7 or 8 out of 10.  And it's not just near the lakes, but the mountains are beautiful also.  This week I was on Mount Whiteface with a friend (thanks for the great hike JL!) and the colors were just about peak there in the southern White Mountains.

The drainage that feeds the Wonalancet River between Mt. Whiteface and Passaconway.
Farther down the drainage, with Mt. Chorcorua in the distance.

Central and northern New Hampshire had a little more rain than farther south; in another week or two we'll see what the forests to the south have to offer.  I met two people from Townsend Mass on the Hamlin Trails yesterday who said the leaves in Massachusetts were just falling off the trees.

If you've been out at all you have noticed that color isn't the only thing in abundance right now.  The oak trees are putting out another tremendous acorn crop, just a couple of years after the last one.  

Just a fraction of the acorns collected below one red oak tree.

Spent acorn caps from a branch knocked off in the wind.

That was the year we had "squirrel-ageddon".  This year someone called it a "chipmunk-apolypse" - there are chipmunks running around everywhere!  These high mast years bring about a large spike in the rodent population, which in turn will enable a healthy predator population of hawks, owls, fox, and ermine.  But even with all those chipmunks collecting acorns, soon to be followed by the deer, bears, and turkeys, they are so plentiful that many nuts will missed or forgotten and will germinate to create new oak trees next spring.

Speaking of turkeys, they continue to be quite visible around the lakes.  I came upon a flock up in the Oakland Cemetery a couple of days ago, and before that, a few took a stroll through our back yard.

I just caught the last one in line as the flock scurried into the woods.

What a strange looking bird.


All summer long turkeys have been turning up the oak leaves to uncover last years acorns buried under the leaf litter.

Ruffled up leaves from the turkey's acorn hunt.

This activity slowed during the middle of summer when lots of other food was available, but it has increased again the past couple of weeks.  

I'll close with a few more examples of nature's autumn glory, including colors across the spectrum, red to purple - even all the colors combined together: white.

Nodding Ladies Tresses, one of my favorite, delicate, fall flowers.



From the red of the hobblebush viburnum,

To the purple asters,

Fabulous fall colors surround us everywhere we look.

Update:  I just heard from someone that they think they saw an adult with the chicks this morning in the fog - more to follow.

12:00 noon update: I'm at the boat ramp doing my Lake Host duties, and one chick and one parent are here fishing right in front of me!  So maybe yesterday was just a trial run, letting the chicks know what to prepare for.  Or maybe they just needed a weekend away.  I'll assume the second chick is with the other parent; I'll keep watching.