December 31, 2023: A Pond is Born

It's not looking much like the last day of December.  Instead of skating and ice fishing taking place on the lake, I was out in a boat on Friday. 

The mission was to rescue some of the dock items that floated away during last week's flood, and the job was greatly facilitated by the fact that almost all the ice on the lake has cleared out.  An enthusiastic team joined forces to pull, row, and paddle the wayward docks back to their proper winter homes.  It went off without a hitch, and it once again shows how a close-knit, supportive New England community comes together to help each other.

The lake has dropped about a foot since last week but is still seven inches above normal water level.  The drop is evident by sheets of ice that collapsed around the shore line as the water receded.

Ice hung up on shore shows how much the lake has dropped.

The lake is only dropping slowly because the streams flowing in are still swollen with rain and snow melt.

Now to the birth of a pond.  I think we're about to have an opportunity to witness the creation of a new pond right here in Meredith.  It's not a totally new pond, but rather the restoration of a prior wetland that was abandoned years ago.  On a recent work day repairing storm erosion in the Hamlin Town Forest, I noticed a few trees that had just been harvested by beavers.

Investigating further I discovered it wasn't a few trees, but many.

Many stumps in an area being cleared by beavers.

And then I found a new dam that had appeared since the last time I was there and is surely where much of that felled wood ended up.  

This nascent dam was overtopped on the left by the rain, but held firm nonetheless.

What is presently a large wet meadow with a stream running through it, was at one point a beaver pond.  But many years ago, probably after the resident beavers had consumed all the desirable trees within easy reach from the safety of the pond, they moved on to greener pastures. Over time the dam fell into disrepair and the pond slowly drained away.  Today, the trees around the pond have regrown enough that a new generation of beavers has returned with the intent of restoring the old estate to a vibrant family homestead.  

I went to google earth to look at historical photos of the pond dating back to 1984.  In those 60 years it has gone through two cycles of meadow to pond.  The last time there was open water in the pond was 2005, almost 20 years ago - long enough for the beaver's preferred size of tree to have regrown.  

It's in such an accessible location that anyone interested in watching what happens over the next few years can easily do so.  The meadow is just to the left as you leave the trailhead and cross the first bridge.  100 yards down the Yellow Trail, a short spur leads to a view point (binocular icon) where one can see a good portion of the meadow.   I'll report on changes here, but there's nothing like watching it develop it first hand over the years.  

While I was out on Lake Wicwas this week I took note of a huge food store that beavers living in the largest lodge on the lake have amassed for the winter.  

The pantry is right next to the lodge for safe and easy winter access.

There must be a healthy population of beavers living in that home.

That's the goods news from the lake, but there's sad news also, and you may want to skip this next section as it relates to the demise of one of my favorite wild animals.

Right at the dam, where's there's just a narrow strip of road that separates Lake Wicwas from the wetland below the dam, I found an animal dead beside the road.  It was a river otter, one of the most interesting and fun-loving animals in New Hampshire.

These are quick animals, and no doubt had its demise due to bad timing as it leaped up out of one water body to cross over to the other.  Perhaps otters usually travel under the road through the dam spillway, but the high flow over the dam might have required an overland trip for this unfortunate otter.  It looked to me to be a young otter as it's not quite three feet long which is the lower end of the three foot to four-and-a-half foot length of a fully grown river otter. 

A mature otter weighs between 15 and 30 pounds, and this animal weighted well below 30 pounds.  Before giving it a proper burial I took advantage of the sad situation to observe some of the detail on these animals.  Otters have five well-developed toes on each foot, with the hind foot somewhat larger than the front. 

Front foot with well defined claws, toe and heel pads.

You can see a bit of the webbing between the toes on this hind foot.

All four feet are webbed which helps them be such good swimmers and hunters.  Otters have many whiskers on their nose which they use to sense motion of fish both at night and during the day in deep, dark areas of the lake.  They can swim under water for up to a quarter of a mile.  It's their great efficiency in hunting that supposedly provides them so much time for play.

To leave on a happy note, I'll share a video of several otters having a great time in the snow.  This is from Washington State, but it could just as well be any lake with otters here in New Hampshire.

All we need is some snow.  Come on winter!

🎉    Happy New Year!      🎉

December 24, 2023: Merry Christmas!

Unless mother nature brings us a Christmas Eve Miracle we aren't going to have a white Christmas this year.  That huge storm that swept up the entire East coast wiped out all the snow right up through the mountains.  But she didn't leave us empty, bestowing us with other forms of winter beauty and fascination.

Ice crystals that formed in clear water in a roadside ditch.

One never knows where nature's wonders are hiding until one looks in the most unexpected places.

So there are no snowy winter scenes to share this Christmas, but all that rain raised the water level in Lake Wicwas over 20 inches, and the high water adorned the lake with other forms of winter art.  Most interesting were three-dimensional sheets of ice that formed as the receding water froze.

One of many flooded areas of shoreline.

It created shapes that look like topographical maps with elevation contour lines.

Looks like a topographical map to me.

I spent some time thinking about how this might occur, and here's my theory:  Ice starts forming from the side of the lake and works its way outward.  Simultaneously, it thickens from below by adding more ice at the interface of ice and water as long as ice forms faster than the lake level drops.  But when the water level drops enough that it is no long in contact with the ice - which is fixed to the shoreline - then no more ice can form at the bottom, and new layer of ice starts at the outer edge of the now-suspended ice sheet.  This process repeats with the multi-tiered sheet being supported by land on the shore-side and floating on the lake on the outer edge.  That's my guess!

Shorelines with a drop-off to the lake rather than a gradual slope developed icicles as runoff dripped slowly off and froze before each drop could make its escape.

The rising water also caused enough shoreline flooding that several docks and rafts left untethered and too close to the lake were swept away with the wind and current.  One large group of dock parts ended up where one would expect - right up against the dam.

Fortunately it arrived unscathed and the Meredith water department crew came out and moved it away from the dam immediately after I alerted them.  The owners of this dock have been found and are working on retrieving it.

A second item got tangled up on the flooded shore line on its way down to the dam.

Its owners are also working on a rescue.  The final item has also be claimed; it didn't go far from home and is now secure.  

Many thanks to all who helped with identifying and retrieving these!

Humans aren't the only ones that have to deal with increasing rainfall events.  The wetland downstream from Wicwas was flooded.

Did you notice the freshly chewed trees?

The beavers must be in need of more material to reinforce their dams from the higher water.  It makes me wonder if their homes were flooded.  With the water dropping now they should be fine even without a white Christmas to insulate (and decorate) their lodges.

Merry Christmas to all!

December 17, 2023: Cat and Mouse

Snow squalls this week dropped enough fresh snow to reveal the cat and mouse games that constantly take place in the forest.  I say cat and mouse, but the antagonist was just as likely to be a canine as a feline.  

For a good mile, both sides of the path I was following through a hardwood forest in the Rumney area were peppered with the trails of mice.  Maybe.  They could also have been voles, moles, or even shrews - I don't know.  

The trail of some small rodent out searching for food. 
Note the larger predator tracks coming in from the upper left.

But they sure were busy gathering up the bounty of this fall's mast.

These larger tracks look like squirrel.

And then there were the tracks of the animals hunting for all those high-protein meals.

This track may be a bobcat.  Bobcat often drag their feet in snow, and fox usually trot with their feet landing in a perfectly straight line.

The snow cover isn't deep enough to provide the hunted much protection from the hunters, and often they took just a small excursion out from a safe hideaway and back again.

Other trips were more extensive, but all trails still had ready access to multiple safe hiding spots.

Tail-drag is quite evident here which makes me think this is a mouse
because they have the longest tails.

The hunters knew they were down there; they circled around, smelling that savory treat like one would a hot turkey roasting in the oven on Thanksgiving Day. 

Somewhere under that small spruce tree a mouse was surely hiding.

This hunter I don't know.  It left large prints - maybe a coyote?  Probably not a bobcat as they prefer to lie patiently in ambush, waiting for lunch to walk by, and then pounce.

Back at the lake, the progress we had been making towards ice-in had a set back this week when a warm, windy day took out the ice from most of the lake.  

Not much ice on the lake as of yesterday.

Our protected cove managed to hold firm as it had a thicker covering.  

After a couple of cold nights mid-week I ventured out a few feet to cut a hole and found three inches of solid black ice - not enough for safe use, and by today I wouldn't even dare step out to check the thickness.  It was one of those short squalls that put that trace of snow on the ice.  

There were some pretty days this week.

Blue skies and bright maple branches.

I'll close with a late afternoon picture of the White Mountains as seen from Wicwood Shores Road.  Mt. Tecumseh is on the left, Osceola in the middle, and Sandwich Dome on the right. That half circle of white is snow on the ski trails at Waterville Valley.

Looking north from Wicwood Shores Road.

Will everything be white by Christmas?

December 10, 2023: It Arrived

If winter was close last week, this week it arrived.

Looking north from the White Mountain Ledge.

Our first good snowfall came last Sunday night and it turned the lake into a winter wonderland ready for the Christmas season.

A Wicwas Christmas Card.

The snow was dense and wet and got plastered to everything it touched.  

Cold temperatures after the storm let it stay that way for days.  

Prior to the snow, everyone I spoke with had the same report about the birds - there were none at their birdfeeders.  Usually when we put up the bird feeders around the first of December it's only a matter of minutes before they find it, with the chickadees always the first.  But this year we had none - at least that we saw - for days.  When they did appear it was a single chickadee or a random titmouse.

Black-capped Chickadees are the first to find the feeders.

But when the snow covered the ground, suddenly they flocked to the feeder.  So far we've had chickadees, titmice, nuthatches, goldfinches, and juncos - no woodpeckers yet.  

After the initial rush the level of activity subsided as some of the snow melted and re-exposed patches of bare ground.  It appears the birds really do prefer to forage for natural food sources when it's available.  

A few weeks ago when I was walking at Page Pond I heard a bird song I only remember hearing previously at the top of a mountain, the "old Sam Peabody" call of the white-throated sparrow.  I couldn't convince myself that really was what I was hearing until later in the walk when I saw a little brown bird hopping around in the leaves.  I stopped and waited for it to expose itself which it kindly did on a rock and then a branch, and getting a good look, I decided it was in fact a white-throated sparrow.  

White-throated sparrow.

I've never had a good look at these birds in the mountains so didn't realize they have a bright yellow spot between the eye and the bill (an area called the "lore" in bird anatomy).  

The Cornell Lab of Ornithology range maps shows we are right on the line between their breeding and year-round ranges, so maybe I have seen them near the lake many times but never recognized them by sight.  I also learned that this species has two distinct morphs, one with a white line behind the eye (like the one I saw) and other morph with a tan line.  The two morphs have an equal share of the population because birds of one morph almost always select a mate with a bird of the opposite morph. It reinforces the old adage that opposites attract!

Snow on the ground gave away the fact that turkeys have been invading our yard.

The turkeys took a walk down the steps.

I knew they were around because I've seen their scratchings in the leaves where they've been uncovering acorns and other seeds.  The tracks show just how big these birds are.

A couple of cold nights with lows down in the teens put ice over much of the lake.  Perhaps you'll recognize some of these partially frozen shorelines.

Warm weather and rain today may erode the ice and send winter back north for a time, but it will return soon enough.  

Photo by Dave Thorpe