December 25, 2022: Stubborn Loons, Winter Solstice, And Merry Christmas!

It's now officially winter by any measure - would someone please tell the loons?

But first, the solstice.  I took a hike up to Crockett's Ledge to watch the sunrise on the shortest day of the year.  I have watched sunrise from this vantage point before, but always in the summer, and I was curious to see just how much farther south the sun rises at the winter solstice.  I found that it comes up directly behind 2382' high Belknap Mountain which delayed the sun's appearance until 15 minutes after official sunrise. 

At Crockett's Ledge in December, the sun rises directly behind Mt. Belknap.

This made sunrise less colorful than in summer because the sun was relatively high in the sky when it breached the mountain.  But it did make for a really neat scene:

The sun crests the south flank of Belknap while snow blows on the north flank of Gunstock.

Gunstock ski area was making snow overnight and the plume of snow from the snow guns was backlit by the rising sun right on schedule for sunrise.  Just by luck I also captured an airplane flying between the two mountains at that moment.

When I see Belknap Mountain from a distance I often note the fire tower on the summit.  But seeing the mountain that morning in silhouette reminds me that I'm actually seeing the radio tower near the summit, not the fire tower.  The fire tower (the small bump to the left of the radio tower) is now just barely above the tree tops while the much higher radio tower protrudes well above the tree line. 

Now to the loons.  Even with temperatures dropping to ten degrees the past two nights, our loon chick Maddie is still here.  

One stubborn and foolish teenager.

Here it is late December, the lake is almost frozen over, and she refuses to leave.  It appears her mother (that's a guess) has returned to encourage her on her way, and now both of them are at great risk.  Amy Wilson continues to be our best eyes on them, giving us daily reports.  On Wednesday I was able to find them far out in the middle where they were restricted to a tiny sliver of open water as the lake had mostly skimmed over.

Over 90 percent of the lake was iced over on Wednesday.

Our two loons in a tiny patch of open water.

On Thursday the situation was no better and John Cooley from the Loon Preservation Committee came to assess the situation and determine whether a rescue was needed or feasible.  In order to execute a rescue there needs to be at least an inch of ice so a small, flat bottom boat can be taken out to where the loons are trapped in a small enough open area (30 to 40 feet) that they can be netted without them swimming away.  

My last sighting of our two loons amidst the frozen lake.

The decision was to wait until after Friday's warm rain event to see if enough water opened up for them to be able to take flight in case they finally decide it's time to move on.  And the drama was heightened on Friday by the arrival of predators.  Amy and Russ reported two juvenile bald eagles were sitting on the ice perusing the two stranded loons, which were very agitated by the eagles' presence.  They reported the loons would come up, take a quick look around then dive back down.  At one point two mature eagles arrived and were devouring what appeared to be a large bird they had captured - but not one of our loons, as they were both still in the water.  

After the warm and windy day on Friday, a large opening had formed across the middle of the lake, plenty of room for them to take flight - if they are able.  I would think with all they've been through - winter storms, wind, ice closing in, eagles watching them - they would be ready to get out of dodge.  If they are still here when the ice closes in again to a just small opening, and if the opening is in a safe location, a rescue attempt may still be an option.  Only time will tell.  I wish someone would tell the loons that winter is here.

"One kind word can warm three winter months."

Japanese Proverb

Merry Christmas!

A last minute update:  As of this afternoon, Sunday, there is very little open water no loons have been seen.  We hope they have finally departed!

December 18, 2022: A Cosmic Light Show

Now that we're well past the start of meteorological winter and only a few days away from astronomical winter (the winter solstice is December 22nd this year) we had our first taste of real winter weather.  

The Lakes Region was just north of the rain-snow line and we picked up about eight inches of dense snow, perfect for forming a solid base for winter activities.  The snow however will complicate the issue of knowing when the ice is safe for winter activities because the lake was largely open water when the snow fell.

Mostly open water just before the snow fell.

Heavy snow falling on thin ice and open water creates highly variable conditions which makes it difficult to assess the ice thickness.  Cutting a hole and finding six inches of ice doesn't mean that 20 feet away there isn't an area with much thinner ice disguised by the snow.  I'll wait for several consecutive days of temperatures well below freezing before attempting to even assess the ice.  By then the ice fishermen will have probably ventured out and will provide reports.  

Fox must have another way of assessing ice safety - either that or they're willing to take the risk of getting wet.  Early in the week after a light snow the fox were already taking advantage of easy travel where ice had formed around the edge of the lake.

Fox tracks on the thin ice.

I observed this fox's tracks a long ways, passing on and off the ice multiple times on its hunting excursion around the lake.

Another animal doesn't have any issue with falling through the ice and getting wet.  On a walk after the storm I saw strange marks on the snow-covered ice and studied them to try to determine what was going on.  

A track far out on the ice.

I finally decided they were the tracks and slides of a river otter - or several river otters.  It looked like there were four holes at a boundary in the ice where they came up from the water and/or went back down.

The hop-hop, sliiide track of a river otter.

I'll guess there were at least two otters traveling together.  If the ice were safe I would have gone out to confirm my conclusion, but there's really no other animal that would leave a trail like this.  And that picture displays just how treacherous the ice is right now.

I had hoped the storm rolling in on Friday would drive our loon chick off the lake, but alas, it appears she rode out the storm because a loon was seen still hanging out in open water yesterday by Amy Wilson, one of our ace loon observers.  Every year the Loon Preservation Committee has to rescue loons that have overextended their summer vacation in the Lakes Region; we'll keep a close eye on this loon as the lake freezes over, and we have alerted the LPC of the situation.  If you are a subscriber to the LPC emails you saw that our little Maddie made their latest issue!  You can read the issue here. 

Outreach Intern Kaila Hodges holds a loon chick during a night of banding on Lake Wicwas.
(Loon Preservation Committee Photo from the December 14th issue.)

It's sad that we never know if we see our chicks again after they leave the lake.  After spending four or five years on the ocean loons usually return to the lake where they hatched (or one nearby if there's no room on their birth lake), but without bands we'll never know if Maddie returns to Wicwas.  It's even possible that one of her parents were born here on Wicwas some number of years ago - Maddie may be the grandchild of one of our long-term nesting adults!  Amy suggested that the LPC band her if they have to do a rescue - that would be great!

If you followed this journal over the summer you know that we had two loon deaths on the lake this year, one certainly killed by another loon, and the second most likely as well.  These beautiful birds with their calming nighttime calls give the perception they are gentle, peaceful creatures, but when it comes to territory and mates, they will brutally protect what they consider theirs.  This year the LPC shared a video that provides insight on the extent to which loons will fight over territory.  It's possible that a fight like this led to the demise of the second loon casualty on Wicwas, which was weakened to the point it could not survive.  Be prepared for a somewhat disturbing event if you choose to watch it:  Territorial Fight Recorded by LPC.

Finally, there will be an impressive cosmic light display in the early night sky for the next few weeks.  If you look to the south shortly after sunset on a clear night you will be able to see five planets lined up near the horizon:  Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Mercury and Venus.  Because Mercury and Venus are closer to the sun than Earth, they are always seen at sunrise or sunset.  There is more information about this astronomical event here, including when the crescent moon will be added to the show.

Happy stargazing for the winter solstice!

December 11, 2022: Boreal Chickadee

I met a new bird this week:  a boreal chickadee.  I had just reached the summit of Mt. Tecumseh, the mountain on which Waterville Valley Ski Area is located, when I heard the flutter of wings near me.  On prior hikes to Tecumseh I've always been greeted by Canada Jays, sometimes called "robber jays" because they will snatch food or small bright items left unattended.  On this summit they are so accustomed to people they will come and eat from your hand.  But as I followed the wingbeats, I saw not a jay, but a small chickadee land in the spruce tree right next to me.

Boreal Chickadee (Poecile hudsonicus)

We looked at each other as I took out my phone to take a picture, and it wasn't phased one bit.  As it flitted around me in the trees, I decided it was as tame as the jays, so I held out my hand, and sure enough, it landed right on my glove expecting a hand out.  Clearly this bird has learned about hikers.  I had no bird food, and not wanting to feed it people food, it must have been disappointed with me.  But later it returned, landing on the ground at my feet.  It hopped around, even right up to my foot where it found a crumb of food I or another hiker had dropped.  

Searching for lost crumbs.

At least it got something for its efforts.  

When I saw this bird I knew it was unlike our usual black-capped chickadee, but I didn't know just what it was - a variant, or a different species.  Back home with field guide in hand, it was easy to identify as a boreal chickadee with its brown cap, though it did take a couple of books as it's not in my first go-to Audubon guide.  That's because this bird is rare in New England.  It's primarily a resident of Canada's boreal forests, though its range does include very northern parts of New England, especially at higher elevations. 

Maybe they come for the spruce seeds, but stay for the view.

The boreal chickadee spends most of its life deep in the spruce trees and is therefor not often seen even within its range.  Considering the Cornell Ornithology lab states "Its boreal habits and sedentary lifestyle mean it’s a hard species for most bird watchers to see without taking a trip to Canada or Alaska", I feel very fortunate to have seen one.  Though, with this bird being acclimated to humans, I expect anyone hiking to the summit of Tecumseh has a good chance to see one.  I wouldn't be surprised if they also frequent the top of the ski area in winter.

On the subject of skiing, it's a pretty sad story in New Hampshire right now.  Yes, it's still early December, but there was essentially no snow even at 4000' elevation.  Only the highest peaks on the Presidential Range and the Franconia Range are "white" mountains right now.

Not much white in the mountains yet.

  

The other nature highlight of the week was found back in Meredith, at the end of the trail to Arbutus Hill Pond in the Hamlin/Eames/Smyth Conservation area where the beavers have been very busy.

Beaver activity at Arbutus Hill Pond.

Several good-size trees have been felled, some carefully planned to land right in the pond where it was easy for the beavers to cut off the branches and bring them into the pond to stock their underwater winter food stores.  

Where the trunks were too large to take away they gnawed off the bark and cambium to consume its high nutritional content.  

These large rodents have some pretty serious woodworking tools at their disposal.

It takes some strong teeth and jaws to cut these wood chips.

Beavers around Lake Wicwas have been busy too, stuffing the dam once again with tightly packed debris, raising the water level more than a foot above normal full level, flooding low areas around the shoreline.  The town employees were here again late in the week to clear it out before the lake freezes, which it's starting to do even with the warm days. 

Ice advances on a cold night, then retreats during the day.

Early one morning after a skim of ice had formed I saw a bald eagle fly over the lake, circle back around for a closer look, and then land right on the thin ice.  It pecked for several minutes on the ice; I have no idea what it found there.  It was far away and the morning light was dim, but it was definitely a bald eagle.

The battle between fall and winter goes on, and this week Jack Frost infiltrated our sun room, using the humid air of the prior day as the medium for his artwork on the inside of our windows.

I won't complain about an intruder that has these artistic abilities.  

One final note:  Maddie is still here.  She was leading a flock of perhaps 40 common mergansers, which flew off in a thundering of wings, though Maddie stayed calmly behind, watching over her lake.  I'm glad we have a lot of observers to make sure she has departed by the time the lake freezes over.

December 4, 2022: Early Winter Artistry

The battle between the seasons continues to be waged.  First a warm front pushed up from the south bringing warm gale-force winds and rain which saturated the ground and filled up the ponds.  Then a cold front made an attack, with its strong, cold, dry northwest winds driving back the wet weather.  Cold air following rain commissioned more interesting ice-art to be sculpted by nature.  Vernal pools along the Red Trail leading up to the White Mountain Ledge in the Hamlin Town Forest, which had been filled up again, were slowly draining into the soil when the cold temperatures hit.

A vernal pool beside the trail to the White Mountain Ledge.

Vernal pools typically don't have an outflow, but with the ground not yet frozen, water was seeping slowly in the soil, gradually lowering the water level as the surface of the pond froze.

Ice surrounds a blueberry bush in a vernal pool.

The artistic talent of nature is exquisite:

This ice formed some time after the cold front passed as the water needed time to cool down, but other ice formed just as the two fronts clashed, generating an interesting form of precipitation known as graupel.

Graupel

Graupel starts high in a cloud as snowflakes, but as the flakes pass through an atmospheric layer containing super-cooled water droplets, those droplets freeze onto the snowflakes, creating tiny, hard snowballs.

Being hard and round they tend to bounce and roll around, collecting in low spots.

Graupel reminds me of King Derwin of the Kingdom of Didd and his quest for a new kind of precipitation which led to Oobleck - and the rescue of the kingdom by young Bartholomew Cubbins.  Right now I'd be happy with some good old fashioned snow!

Also along the Red Lakes to Ledges Trail in Hamlin, down by the lake, I saw that the beavers have been busy.

Hemlocks girdled by beavers.

In addition to the  gnawed trees are several large scent mounds where the beavers are claiming their territory. 

Scent mounds on the shoreline tell other beavers this part of the lake has been claimed.

I won't be surprised to see a new beaver lodge being constructed in this cove over the next few years.

There was a group of common mergansers visiting Lake Wicwas this week, nine of them, apparently all males out on a guys-only trip.

A flock of male common mergansers.  Photo by Neil Crimmins.

They were traveling together and spent most of the day fishing and exploring the lake, being seen at both ends of the lake over the course of the day.

Earlier in the day, at the opposite end of the lake.  Photo by Linda Powell.

These are likely this year's juveniles which haven't yet found a mate; common mergansers pair up in late winter or early spring.

All the animals - ducks, beavers, loons - have at least a couple more weeks to enjoy open water since ice is still forming only in the smallest coves and streams.  

A topographical display of ice on a small stream.

With more warm and wet weather yesterday, we may have more opportunities for nature's ice-art.

November 27, 2022: A Gaggle of Goldeneye

There were a lot of feathered creatures out celebrating Thanksgiving this week:  woodpeckers, goldeneyes, mallards, geese - but none that I saw were turkeys.  Of these, the most interesting to watch was the pileated woodpecker.  It caught my eye as it flew, the flashes of white in its wings divulging its identity, and it was easy to follow it to its destination on an oak tree with a promising rotten spot on a large branch.  

This branch caught the pileated's trained eye.

It hopped up on the branch and listened for signs of life inside the decaying wood.

The red stripe on the cheek indicates this is a male.  Females have a black stripe.

He apparently found what he was looking for and pinpointed the exact spot to attack.

Right there, in that little gap surrounded by lichen.

He began his assault, chopping at the branch with long strokes of his powerful neck, up and down, up and down.  First he broke through the bark, making a small mark on the branch.

Woodpeckers use their strong tail as a third contact point to brace against as they drive their chisel into the wood.  This video, though blurry and out of focus, at least shows the force a pileated can apply to its work.  Note how he keeps his tail pressed against the tree, and stops to listen now and then:

As he worked, the hole enlarged and deepened.

Soon he broke through the outer wood and opened up a pathway to the insects' home inside, most likely a nest of carpenter ants, at which point he simply stuck his beak in the hole, pushing his sticky, barbed tongue into the nest - a pileated can extend its tongue out two inches - pulling out ant after ant, and maybe some eggs too.  

He sat for long time feasting on the high protein food inside.  

The whole process, from when he landed to when he got his first morsel took just five minutes.  Here's a video of him reaping the fruits of his labor.

The next bird encounter came on Thursday morning when we took a walk along the WOW Trail between Laconia and Lakeport to rev up our appetite for Thanksgiving dinner.  There in Opechee Bay was a huge gaggle of goldeneyes that had gathered for their own Thanksgiving celebration - over 30 of them.

Goldeneyes, thankful for making it unscathed through the first half of hunting season.

For some reason, there was one lone hooded merganser leading the flock.

Or perhaps being chased by the flock?

I've seen large gaggles of goldeneyes on Lake Waukewan as well, but only small groups on Wicwas - it must be too small a water body for large family gatherings.  These are pretty little ducks with their white cheeks and bright golden eyes.

There were also a few mallards in the bay.

Mrs. Mallard stretches her wings.

Lastly, I'll share some pictures of needle ice that I found on a run up to the White Mountain Ledge in the Hamlin Town Forest.  I keep my eye out for this on the first cold days of the year, but these were easy to find as they were right in the middle of the trail.  

Needle ice on the Red Trail leading to the White Mountain Ledge

Needle ice forms when the earth is wet and still warm, but the air gets cold so water on the surface of the ground freezes.  As water in the soil is cooled from above, it freezes onto the bottom of the ice crystal, and the needle grows skyward.

The intersection of water and cold always fascinates me.