December 27, 2020: Deer Tracks Everywhere

I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas - even if you were in the rain-drenched New England area.  Around the Lakes Region we had enough snow from the last storm to outlast the rain and keep the ground white, but our three foot dump is down to a third of that now.  Skiing will be on hold until we receive a new freshening of powder, but a quick freeze after the rain means that skating might be in order.  

Before the warm front arrived I'd been out to several different areas around the lakes and everywhere I went I found a plethora or deer tracks, so one afternoon I decided to follow some of our local deer to see what they were up to.  It was interesting to note the different forms the tracks took.  The oldest tracks were those set right after the deep snow fell.  It was so light and deep that their skinny little hooves sunk so deep down that their bellies dragged along, plowing a trough in the snow.

Even with those long legs they plowed a trough through the snow.

A day or two later, using the same path they had plowed out previously made their travel easier and left fresh tracks on top of their previous route.

Reusing a pre-packed trail.

The third variant I saw was the freshest, probably made the day I was out.  The snow had packed down enough that they left more traditional tracks in deep soft snow.  

Even through deep snow deer are able to sniff out stashes of acorns under the oak trees, and dig down to ground level to extract these high-energy food sources.  

Pawing down into the leaves for a meal of acorns.

After following along for a distance I came to a clue that I was probably tracking our mom and her two yearlings.

Two small melted-out beds and a bigger one for mom, all under the cover of hemlock branches.

The snow had melted right down to the ground.

This looks to me like a spot where the three of them bedded down for a nap, or maybe even to spend the night.  The melted snow tells me this wasn't digging for acorns but rather they spent a fair amount of time here.  I hope they have grown their warm fur coats by now.

I kept my eye out for signs of tree browse but didn't see any evidence of that.  But they did leave plenty of evidence along the trail that they have been eating!

Sadly, there are down sides to living close to all this nature.  Those deer completely decimated one of Linda's hydrangeas that was exposed once the snow melted down.  

How sad a sight is that.

It's a reminder that we are living in their world.  

I did get out yesterday to cut a hole in the ice close to shore and found it to be six inches thick, about half black ice and half white ice, which is safe enough for foot travel - at least where it's that thick.  But it was treacherous finding a way from shore to solid ice as the entire shoreline had melted out.  I'll wait for a couple more days of cold temps before I try out the surface condition for skating.

December 20, 2020: Red-bellied Woodpecker

Yes, we'll get to the snow, but first, a new bird appeared in the yard, a first for me in Meredith.

Red-bellied Woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus)

The instant I saw this bird on the feeder I knew it was something special.  I've only seen one previously, about 50 miles south of here.  One bird book published in 1981 lists their range on the east coast from Florida to as far north as Connecticut.  Another book, published in 1998, lists them as far north as Massachusetts, but says they are "spreading north".  Even the current Cornell Lab or Ornithology website has a map showing the range only as far north as the very southern edge of Massachusetts.

Red-bellied Woodpecker Range (year-round).  Source:  Cornell Lab of Ornithology

But as the climate changes, lots of things are moving north.  

It's a beautiful bird, about as large as the hairy woodpecker with a stunning redhead - just note that it hardly has any red on its belly; it's barely noticeable.

You can discern just a touch of red on the belly in this picture.

But plenty of red on its cap.

The black and white bars on its back are also eye-catching.

The red-bellied has a diet that consists primarily of insects, though it does consume lots of nuts, fruit, and seeds as well.  You know it's a southern bird when the foods listed include oranges, mangoes, and lizards!  It makes me wonder if it came up north along with the storm.  It has been visiting us every day so it must be satisfied with its hunting grounds even now that winter has arrived with a vengeance - our forecasted three to six inch snow storm worked it's way up to three feet here at Lake Wicwas.

The snow didn't even start until after midnight, and by dawn there were 11 inches on the ground.  During the morning it was coming down at a rate of over four inches per hour, with a peak of six inches in a single hour.  And there was no wind, at least on our side of the lake, so these are real snow depths, not drifts.  When it wrapped up less than 12 hours later we measured 33 inches of snow; the Laconia Daily Sun reported 39 inches in Meredith.  At least it was incredibly light and fluffy, and with no wind it wasn't too bad to shovel, but we sure went from nothing on the ground to mid-winter conditions in one day.  

A mid-winter sunrise the day after the storm.

The snow also brought along official ice-in for Lake Wicwas, declared on December 17th.  There was still open water when the snow started falling but all that cold snow in the water and low teens overnight froze the lake over by the morning of the 17th.  This date is in line with the average ice-in over the past 20 years on December 13th, but it's worth noting that over that time period ice-in has moved by more than a week.

In the 1970's there was never any doubt about being on the ice over Christmas vacation - we were always sledding and skating by then.  But especially this year with a heavy snow cover the ice may not be safe by Christmas.  If that trend line extrapolated linearly back 50 years it would put ice-in around mid to late November.  Does anyone have any records prior to 2000?

Though it may look like it, the ice is not safe today - here's where things stood just 5 days ago:

Open water on December 15th.

But there's no doubt that winter has arrived at the lake.

December 13, 2020: The Many Moods of Ice

Every year the freezing of Lake Wicwas takes a somewhat different path, and like everything else in 2020, this year it's been unusual.  Old Man Winter has made several attempts to seize the lake, but each time he has surrendered to the advances of warmth and wind.  Temperatures dipping just below freezing over night and then rising into the high 30s during the day have caused a back and forth cycle for days.  

Over night the ice tries once again to capture the lake.

Some days we watch the ice spread across the cove in the morning before the sun heats the day up, and then starting mid-morning we watch it creep back to open up the cove again.

7:45 am

11:00 am the same day

Yesterday there was an unusual situation where ice had formed out towards the center of the lake but large areas near shore were left open - just the opposite of the usual pattern.

Perhaps the flow of water from last week's rain is keeping the lake a bit warmer and in motion where the streams enter along the shore.

Those streams are still running strongly enough to throw up water on their banks to create some interesting ice formations.

The stream under the bridge at the Hamlin trailhead.

One cold night a stiff wind blowing across the lake generated waves which splashed up on the shore and formed another version of icicles:  smooth, rounded crystal balls dangling from branches.

Wind-blown icicles on the shoreline.

The bird feeders we put out last week immediately attracted a torrent of activity.  Within two days we were visited by every common species we see all winter except for the black-eyed junco.  So far chick-a-dees, titmice, goldfinches, blue jays, hairy and downy woodpeckers, and white-breasted and red-breasted nuthatches have made their appearance, including many more red-breasted nuthatches than usual.  There are additional birds that appear less frequently at our feeders, such as bluebirds, purple finches, and even turkeys, so we have plenty more to watch for.

A chick-a-dee and a tufted titmouse share the feeder.

A red-breasted nuthatch selects a choice seed.

And soon enough the squirrels will come, followed perhaps by my favorite feeder-stalker, the bobcat - maybe we'll we get a sighting this winter.  When the lake finally does freeze over we may get to see the red fox treading carefully across the thin ice, but not yet!

The fox is much too smart to traverse this ice.

December 6, 2020: A Quick Transition

The week started out in May and ended in December.  Spring-like rain filled up the lakes and rivers and 60 degree weather was just right for a late-season kayak and running in shorts and shirtsleeves.  But the lake was cold enough that fog formed when the warm humid air brushed up against the water.

One stubborn tree refuses to let go.

It was so calm on Tuesday that the fog just hung there for hours, painting tranquil scenes; I was the only thing out there making ripples on the surface of Lake Wicwas.

It was so quiet that I could hear water running on the far side of the shoreline from where I was paddling, so I followed the sound to the source.  There I found a pretty stream, swollen from the rain, emptying into Lake Wicwas what it had collected from the drainage on the western side of the lake.

A December Waterfall

It was a small stream but it had enough force to push a big pile of leaves downstream and deposit them in the lake.

Farther along I encountered a bald eagle sitting high in a tree watching over the lake for us.  

The Lake Wicwas Sentry.

I didn't see any loons on what was probably my last liquid outing of the year, but a few days earlier Amy Wilson did find the chicks and she took some incredible pictures.  

Harold or Betty?  (Photo by Amy Wilson)

Photo by Amy Wilson

They demonstrated their fishing prowess for Amy, and she is talented enough to capture the immensity of the fish they are catching - and somehow managing to swallow.

Photos by Amy Wilson

Now that's a mouthful!

Amy is a truly accomplished artist and photographer - you can find more of her art work at her website, Amy Wilson Photography.

That was early in the week.  Towards the middle we had a couple colder days, and even received a dusting of snow a bit north and at higher elevations.  I went for a short hike up in the Sandwich range, departing from Sandwich Notch Road, taking the Algonquin Trail up to Black Mountain.

Approaching the summit of Black Mountain.

There was just enough snow on the ground to see there had been snowshoe hares running along the trail, but the snow was so thin the tracks didn't come out in pictures.  Here's what they look like; this was taken in 2018 on Mount Welch, just a couple miles west of Black Mountain.

Snowshoe Hare tracks on Mount Welch just four miles away.

There's always something special about seeing these prints, and knowing these animals live in this harsh terrain above 3000'.  

It's not as much fun to see the lack of snow on the trails at Waterville Valley.

Bare ski trails at Waterville Valley.  (That's Mount Lafayette looming behind.)

They should be open by now, at least on man-made snow.

And that brings us to last night's Nor'easter, which was kind of bust here, but at least it felt a little like December.  We barely got an inch of wet slush, while some locations received close to a foot of snow.  It did make it seem wintery enough to put out the bird feeders - now I just hope those bears really have bedded down for the winter.