May 30, 2021: Time for Baby Birds

The weather on this Memorial Day Weekend certainly isn't what we're hoping for, especially after the past couple weeks of hot, summer-like weather had spoiled us terribly.  The flowers, trees, and even animals however are very thankful for the rain and some cooler temperatures, including our little family of mallards.  They continue to dabble in the cove, fly in and out for unknown reasons, and still scour the road for acorns.  They must have the ability to smell those big seeds even after they've been packed down into the ground because every morning there are little funnel holes in the road where they've been excavating.  One morning I watched them in action:

Mr. Mallard zeros in on an invisible target.

He probes down into the ground,

And plucks up a tasty morsel.

Down the hatch!

All that good nutrition combined with a lot of effort to defend their territory has produced results.  This week we saw mom in tow with five little chicks.

Five little ducklings follow mom in tight formation.

They had been so good at concealing their nest, and the chicks so quiet, that we never discovered where the nest was situated, though we knew its approximate location because dad would be stationed right off shore on a regular basis while (we assume) mom was on the nest.

Another bird species is not nearly so careful in keeping their presence secret.  Walking through the woods on Friday I heard a loud, high pitched peep-peep-peep-peep-peep coming from somewhere in the forest.  I stopped to see if I could figure out what it was and where it was coming from, and I found that making noise walking on the leaves and fallen branches only made the peeping more adamant.  This hinted that it was undisciplined baby birds thinking a meal was heading their way via mom or dad, unlike an adult animal that would be quiet when it detected an approaching creature.  The piercing sound was rather easy to track down and I soon found the source of the racket which was emanating from a small hole in an ash tree.

The source of the noise.

I didn't expect to see the parents anytime soon after tramping around the area so I left, but came back late that evening, quietly, and settled in a discreet spot to see if I could learn who's nest it was.  It took only about ten minutes before two loud birds came flying into the trees near the area, landed where I couldn't see them, and started sending out dramatic alert calls which told me they knew something wasn't right (me).  Nonetheless, after a few minutes of this, a downy woodpecker - the female - flew onto the tree below the hole with a good size morsel of food that looked like a large insect, in its beak.

Bringing home dinner for the hungry kids.

She spent a few moments doing the woodpecker jig, jerking her head one way and the other to survey the surroundings before poking her head into the hole, then disappearing inside.

"Hi kids"

Nothing but tail.

She was in the tree for a minute or two before scooting out quickly, immediately landing on a nearby dead tree to begin her search for another insect to bring home.  

Back at the supermarket.

We've entered the peak period of bird hatching, so keep an eye for all flavors of baby birds throughout the forests and lakes.  Ducklings and Canada goose goslings will be some of the most visible, but robin and phoebe chicks are also occasionally seen.  Loons won't be hatching for several more weeks - the only pair that appears to have returned to Lake Wicwas is still searching out nesting sites.  There also continue to be battles over territory and/or mates on Wicwas.  This week I watched a long altercation take place, long enough to decide to get my camera and see if I could catch some it on video - which I did, still getting over two minutes of action before they went out of sight, and I don't know how long the battle continued after that.  The action was far away, and hand-holding a telephoto lens makes for poor video, but you can at least get the idea of what was taking place if you watch it:

And here's a short clip of a wing-rowing event:

Perhaps you saw the announcement that the Meredith Conservation Commission is holding the second of its summer guided walk series at the Hamlin-Eames Conservation Area.  The walk will start with a brief memorial to Peter Miller who passed away last November and a dedication of a plaque in his memory.  Peter was a Meredith conservation commissioner who designed the trails in Hamlin and Eames and led the fund raising effort to purchase the Eames property.  There will be guided walks ranging from one third of mile up to three miles.  If you would like to participate, meet at the Hamlin Trailhead on Chemung Rd at 10:00am on Saturday, June 5th.  

It's also National Trails Day -  I hope to see you there!

If you're interested in honoring those who died in the service of our country, there will be a short memorial service at Oakland Cemetery tomorrow morning at 8:00, at Meredith Village Cemetery at 9:00, and in front of the Meredith Library at 10:00, followed later by a ceremony at Hesky Park.   It's a small way to remember those whom made the ultimate sacrfice for us.

May 23, 2021: Disturbing the Wildlife

I greatly enjoy the time I spend communing with nature as I walk the trails and paddle the waterways through our country's beautiful protected areas, and while doing so I am well aware of the impact I have on the residents who live there. Paddling along on a sunny day it's not uncommon to hear a turtle plop off the log where it was soaking up the sun to warm it's cold-blooded body.

I was able to sneak by this painted turtle without disturbing it, but that's not always the case, especially when I don't see it before I hear the "plop".

Or to flush out a heron that was fishing unseen in the tall weeds along the shoreline where it had been stalking a frog or a fish, waiting for it to come within range of it's lightning-fast neck and long, accurate beak, hoping to bring dinner home to the chicks in the rookery.

A great blue heron stalks its prey.

Even when alone and walking quietly it the woods it's clear I can't help but cause a disturbance; often it's just a red squirrel that chatters angrily, or a blue jay warning it's flock of an intruder - those are relatively minor annoyances to these animals.

Who's in my forest?

But sometimes it's a white-tailed deer that gets interrupted from it's breakfast or a hawk that felt it needed to abandon its observation post - these interfere with food intake and cause the animal to expend more energy, both of which are particularly detrimental in winter.

This week it was two encounters with an owl that told me of my impact. In the first interaction I disturbed a barred owl which flew across the trail I was hiking on. The bird landed in a tree ahead of me not too far off the trail which gave me the opportunity to watch it as I passed. I walked on slowly to not disturb it again, and was able to see it at various points as I went by. Each time I had a clear look at it I could see it was staring right at me, swiveling its neck around as I went by. Here's the first angle where it is looking sideways over its left shoulder.

As I walked, it tracked me; when I was directly beside it the owl had turned its head farther around to the left.

At my last line of sight it had rotated it head 180 degrees and it was looking straight backwards over it tail.

I felt good that I had passed without it feeling the need to move farther off into the woods, but still, it had to start its hunting procedure again.

These encounters aren't rare; I regularly spook an owl that flies off a perch right beside a trail which makes me think they use the clear sight lines along a trail to monitor a larger area, and to take advantage of the open trail for their wide, three-and-a-half foot wing span when they swoop down to capture their prey. So just as deer, moose, and fox take advantage of the easy travel along human's trails, we do provide some benefit to the animals in the forest. Still, this week I got a clear reminder of how just a simple walk can potentially impact the lives of the forest.

I was actually running along a little used trail when I was suddenly started by a chipmunk that must have been collecting seeds near the trail - when disturbed, chipmunks make a mad dash through the leaves to their nearest hiding hole, letting out a loud chip-chip-chip on the way. That alone wasn't significant, but as soon as it ran, an unseen barred owl on an overhead branch spread its wings and soared, silently, off into the forest.

That made me wonder: how long had that owl been stalking that chipmunk, waiting for it to be in the perfect position for the owl to swoop down with a high probability of intercept? Now it will have to find a new hunting spot where it expects there will be prey, and then wait long enough for the little critters to forget it flew in and expose themselves again.

This time of year the owl was probably a male which is now out hunting single-handedly to provide for an entire family. It's his job to bring home dinner for the chicks as well as the female who stays in the nest with her brood. Taking that one meal away from the family could mean the difference between an owlet surviving or not. We seem to have a pretty healthy rodent population after last year's big acorn crop, so he'll probably be able to provide for the family, but it's the kind of moment that makes one stop and think.

The New Hampshire Fish and Game Department and the US Fish and Wildlife Service have created a tool that lets trail owners and planners of new trails assess how their trail will affect wildlife. Anyone can access the tool which is made available through the University of New Hampshire's mapping system Granit. You can learn more about "Trails for People and Wildlife" here.


Those rustling sounds made by the chipmunks and squirrels scurrying around on the forest floor are pretty loud right now as the leaves are really crisp due to lack of rain. We've had nothing in the past week to either water the rapidly growing plants nor wash the pollen out of the air. At least we've enjoyed some great hot summer weather, as have those pollen-producing trees - in just a few days the leaves blossomed into full summer foliage.

A red maple with near-full leaf out and seeds still hanging on.

There are no leaves on this dead tree which fell into the lake several years ago and for the past few summers has been the home of a pair of Eastern Kingbirds that's raised a family there:

Easter Kingbird (Tyrannus tyrannus)

The parents are back, and the faithful nature-observers that monitor the area will let us know if the birds use the nest again this year.

Last year's nest needs a spring make-over.

It's a really safe spot for a bird to have nest:  out over the water, away from predators, in the middle of prime hunting grounds for insects to feed their young.  And kayakers can enjoy the show without causing much disturbance to these bold and nimble birds.  It a great reason to leave trees wherever they fall!

Note:  There are no identified loon nests on Wicwas yet and territorial disputes continue, but at least one pair continues to peruse the housing market for the perfect neighborhood to raise a family.  The water level has stabilized nicely, so it's about time for them to make an offer on a home!

May 16, 2021: How Are Your Allergies?

Spring, sunshine, warm temps, strong winds - it all adds up to tree-pollen season, and it seems to be a good one, though if you suffer from spring allergies, you already know that.  The primary culprits shedding pollen right now are oak, birch, and ash - the early-bird red maples have already gone to seed.

These red maple helicopters will soon be twirling their seeds down to earth.

It's the birch and oak that are shedding their pollen now.

There's a lot of pollen in those oak flowers.

There's not much we can do but wait for the rain to come along and wash all that pollen out of the air.

While we're talking about trees, I want to show a huge bittersweet vine (tree?) I saw over at the Meredith Community Forest while doing some conservation property monitoring work.

A massive bittersweet vine.

This is Oriental bittersweet, a woody vine that was introduced here from China as an ornamental plant, which it is - they are beautiful in the fall with their showy red and yellow berries.  But being non-native, they have no natural controls on their growth and expansion, so they will take over very large areas of field and forest.  Being a vine they are most often found as smaller plants spiraling up around a tree trunk, as this plant initially did.  But as bittersweet grows, the vine will strangle the supporting plant.  After it killed its initial host tree this one encountered another bittersweet vine and the two of them decided to team up and dance with each other (prior photo).

The vine's first host is lying dead on the ground.

I have never seen bittersweet this large before; it would be interesting to count its growth rings to age it.

Moving on to animal life, in addition to the loon mating drama of last week, we now have duck drama as well.  We've had a pair of mallards take up residence in Marion Cove this spring - they are always here, sometimes up on land eating acorns or other plants - and on occasion they've had to usher other ducks away from "their" cove.  But this week it appears another male came in and had a fancy for our female.  There were several moments of total chaos with wings flapping, water flying, and beaks quacking as three ducks engaged in some kind of battle of dominance.

All three kind of flew-swam-tumbled down along the shore out of sight.

Mrs. Mallard got into the action too.

Then a few minutes later two males came steaming back down along the shoreline in tight formation, one right on the aft quarter of the other, escorting it back to international waters.  I saw this take place once again but I have no idea how times they went by that I didn't see.  I'm guessing the challenger kept coming back to try and steal the other's bride and had to be repeatedly driven off.  Regardless of the results of paternity testing we're hoping we'll get to see little ducklings in a few more weeks!

Another bird observed on the lake this week was possibly the source of a lot of very traumatic loon calling.

An immature bald eagle.

This bald eagle flew low over the lake then rose up and landed high in a pine tree right at the water's edge where it would have an eagle-eye view of all the action.  

A bald eagle's head and tail won't become white until 3 to 5 years of age.

Even without chicks in tow I expect the loons don't like to see that watching over them.

Two weeks ago I mentioned that trillium were blooming in Canterbury, and earlier this week I saw my first in the Lakes Region; it's a compelling reason to get out on the wooded trails and find one of these beautiful flowers.

Painted Trillium (Trillium undulatum)

While you're out there look for the many other early wildflowers  blooming now including goldthreads, violets, and the just-now-emerging fringed polygala.  Hopefully you'll be able to find them through the blurry vision of teary, watery, pollen-triggered eyes.

May 9, 2021: An interesting Start to Loon Season

Nesting season on Lake Wicwas appears to be getting off to an interesting start with an unexpected twist:  we may be witnessing a change of mates.  Twice now we have witnessed episodes of three loons interacting, both times resulting in one loon wing-rowing all the way across Marion Cove, followed shortly by a second, leaving the third behind.  The two active birds then dove with one of them not surfacing within my line of sight, and the other returning to the third bird which had remained distant and aloof to all the action.  The two of them then sailed serenely off out of the cove.  My thought was it might be a single loon claiming the cove, and driving the pair away.  

The following day on an afternoon paddle around the lake I saw two loons right up against a small marshy island, something they rarely do unless it's nesting time.

A couple of loons checking out a potential nesting site.

I stopped on the far side of the lake and watched what looked like scouting for a nest - they would poke around in the weeds, with one raising its head high up to check out the surroundings. 

"What do think about this spot?"

"It's nice and quiet, but is it far enough from shore to keep away the predators?"

I watched as they worked the area for a while - I clearly wasn't disturbing them - and then I continued on my way.  On my return trip they were still in the same area, but this time one of them was up on the tiny land mass trying it out for size.

As I watched, the second loon climbed near the edge, at one point revealing its leg which showed a band - it was our nesting male, banded in 2019!

Silver band with black dot - that's him.

Hurray - it appears our nesting pair has returned and is starting to look for a homestead for their new family.  When I returned to home and zoomed in the pictures I took, I saw a glimpse of a green band and immediately assumed it was our banded female which has a green band on one leg.

But when I checked my notes, I remembered our female has a green band on its left leg, and the band I saw was on a right leg!  

Remember when I noted a few weeks ago that we had a visiting loon on the lake, a female banded on Lake Pemigewasset in 2018?  I went and checked the data, and this bird also has a green band, but it's on the right leg.  And a closer look at my photo does show a hint of silver on that leg, which the Pemi loon has on her second band - and not a hint of red which our Wicwas loon has on its second band.  It's the Pemi female!  Could our male be a two-timer, or is he deciding it's time for a new mate?  That doesn't seem like a very nice thing to do right before Mother's Day....

I sent these observations off to the Loon Preservation Committee, and the response came back, yes, we may be observing a changing of mates.  Perhaps the action in Marion Cove wasn't two males fighting, but rather two females, with the Pemi loon chasing away our long-term female, just as she was chased off Lake Pemigewasset two years ago.

The water level in Lake Wicwas is quite high and dropping quickly, and it's still early to be selecting a nesting site, so we're hoping however things get worked out, they'll wait another week or two for the water level to stabilize before nesting.  At that point we may be able to determine who's paired up with whom.  Until then, all our loon observers will be keeping a close eye out for signs of bands - of course at a safe, non-interfering distance.  Stay tuned - we'll report what we learn as the nesting season proceeds.

It's a great time to go for a paddle on the local lakes right now because the lack of aquatic vegetation and the high water levels allow exploring areas inaccessible come summer.  On another paddle later in the week in one such shallow area I came upon (fear alert) a huge snapping turtle.  

Common snapping turtle (Chelydra serpentina)

The well-armored reptile was only slightly concerned with my presence, as it didn't swim away but just exhaled, bubbles streaming from its beak, and sunk down to the bottom of the lake which was only about two feet deep.  As it dove I got a good look at the big, clawed hind feet which the females use to excavate the holes into which she deposits her eggs.  (I don't know whether this was a male or female.)

Both ends of a snapping turtle mean business.

I'm very happy to keep my distance from both ends of these pre-historic monsters!

More pretty flowers are joining the spring parade of color, blooming all around the the Lakes Region now, including the bright and showy Serviceberry (also known as Shad Bush - see the March 5, 2016 post for the meaning behind the name).

Downy Serviceberry (Amelanchier)

They are such a pretty sight in early May along the edges of the lakes which are still mostly drab as leaf-out is just starting.

It's the perfect treat for all the mother's out there.  

Happy Mother's Day!

May 2, 2021: Yellow-rumped Warblers

The procession of song bird migration to New England is running at full speed right now as an explosion of insects bursts out all around us.  I've already had the pleasure of the first swarm of black flies dive-bombing my eyes and buzzing like chainsaws as they probe my ear canals.  As much as I may despise these annoying creatures, they are what allow so many of our animals to survive, from song birds to trout, and this week a large flock of yellow-rumped warblers arrived at the lake to gorge on the plentiful feast, hungry from their long travel up from the south.  We counted about 15 of them, but there were certainly many more on either side of our field of view.  They would perch momentarily on a tree branch, a railing, or a dock post before flitting off to snag a tiny, tasty morsel.

Yellow-rumped warbler (Setophaga coronata)

These warblers have a distinctively different attack method than the eastern phoebe.  The phoebes seem to jet out on a direct path to their target, snatch it immediately at full speed, then circle right back to their observation post where they wait for their next victim.  They will occasionally make a minor flight adjustment right at the point of attack and sometimes have a little twitch of their wings, but in general they are very efficient.  In contrast, these warblers spent a lot time suspended in the air with their wings fluttering madly as they maneuvered to grasp their prey.  Their flight path is still fast and unpredictable enough that I was unable to catch any action pictures at all.

I considered whether the difference in the two birds' behavior is due to going after different insects but what from what I could find, they have the same target food.  Furthermore, both species were feeding together in the same location at the same time (and tolerating each other just fine) so perhaps it's just that the phoebe has much better flight planning and targeting skills.

An Eastern phoebe stalks its prey amongst the maple blossoms.

At least some of the warbler flock made its way over to the western side of the lake as Marge Thorpe observed them reducing the bug population over there.  She took some great pictures, then she and Dave did some research, and noting there are two subspecies of yellow-rumped warblers, determined these are the "Myrtle" subspecies, identified by the white throat.

A good look at the white throat of the Myrtle subspecies.
Photo by Marge Thorpe

These populate the east coast, while the "Audubon" subspecies, which has a yellow throat, live on the west coast.  In areas where the two subspecies overlap such as in the Canadian Rockies, intermediate forms of the bird occur. [Ref:  Cornell Ornithology Lab.]

"Who you lookin' at?"
Photo by Marge Thorpe

We also had a visit from mother deer and junior recently, but it was bittersweet because there was only one of the two siblings we watched all last summer.  

Momma deer (does she look pregnant again?)

And last year's fawn.

I'm afraid the other sibling met its demise this past winter, and was in fact the source of the remains I found on the lake back in early March (see March 7, 2021).  The remaining yearling looks pretty small and weak; I assumed the coyotes took advantage of its sibling's weakened winter condition, but it's also possible the deer died of its own accord and the coyotes just cleaned up the remains.  

Then, just this morning, in the early light of day, I came upon the two of them munching away on my favorite hobblebush shrub, which being out in the middle of the woods, they are welcome to enjoy, and enjoy they did, decimating all the fresh, tasty blossoms below chest level.

There won't be any berries for the birds from this viburnum bush.

Once they saw me they were off into the thick woods with five quick bounds, but they didn't go far, stopping to look back at me to watch where I was going.

"Can I please finish my breakfast?"

I expect they'll be back shortly to finish off the higher branches.

Deer dessert.

At least the flowers are going to a good cause, fueling the new fawns growing in momma's belly.

On another happy note, wildflower season is ramping up;  now is the time to be on the lookout for trillium - I had a report from Canterbury (thanks GP!) that painted trillium are blooming there, just a bit south of the Lakes Region, so they should be out here soon.

Painted trillium blooming in Canterbury.
Photo by Glen Powell

The spring wildflowers compete with the trees for our attention during the spring foliage season which is highlighted by red maple blossoms in the upper story and blueberry buds down by the waters edge.

Red maples shine up high

While blueberry bushes gleam down below.

Both are not only pretty but also welcome hints of what's to come.

Note that in addition to the black flies and other flying pests, crawling ticks are also on the prowl;  I've found both black legged (deer) ticks and wood ticks creeping up my legs even after following anti-tick measures, so do a good tick-check after your outdoor adventures.  

And thank those yellow-rumped warblers for doing their part in the battle of the bugs!