October 25, 2026: A Farewell to Pip

It's been four weeks since I've seen either our loon chick Pip or its mom, so I'm going to assume that they have both left Wicwas for their winter home on the Atlantic Ocean.  Their departure is a full two months earlier than last year's chick Spangle, which stubbornly stayed on the lake until December 5th, only five days before Lake Wicwas was fully iced over.  This year the Wicwas northern pair started early, nesting on a tiny island in a well protected area sometime before May 24th.

One of the northern pair adults on nest-duty on May 31st.

Pip hatched right on schedule on June 17th and was immediately off the nest and in the lake with its parents. 

Pip on June 17th

The next day their second egg hatched and both chicks were safe and sound, seen off the nest and well protected by their parents.

Climbing up under dad's wing - note the leg band.

July 18th

But alas, the second, smaller chick didn't last long.  Its fate is unknown, but by June 19th, only one chick was still present.  Two parents with only once chick to care for meant that Pip was well fed and grew rapidly.

As fast at Pip grew, it still took a while for its body to catch up to the size of its feet.

By early August the baby fluff was mostly shed and Pip was looking like a young adolescent.  

Pip on August 7th.

By now Pip was diving well and starting to catch its own fish, though the parents continued to deliver the larger fish that helped Pip grow rapidly.  

Pip with mom on September 12th

The last time I saw Pip was on October 4th.  With no sightings since then, I assume Pip and mom have left Wicwas.  With a successful nesting, mom will likely return next year (she's not banded so we'll never know for sure).  And Pip?  We'll also never know what happens, but in four or five years, when a "rogue" loon appears on Lake Wicwas, we'll wonder if that's our Pip come home.

My farewell visit from Pip on October 4, 2026

The Lakes Region is now in the waning days of foliage season, and it has been a good one. 

Most of the bright red and orange maples leaves are now on the ground, letting the yellows and deep oranges of beech, aspen, oak, and birch take the leading role.

Blueberries and huckleberries lining the shore are playing an important supporting role with their crimson foliage contrasting against green needles and gray tree trunks.

The weather in October has been just as beautiful as the foliage, with good paddling conditions.  There are still surprises to be found hiding around the lake.

A Canada goose hides motionless as I paddle by.

I'll close with a few scenes from the top of West Rattlesnake Mountain just north of Squam Lake where a hiking buddy and I lingered to watch an October night unfold.  

Overlooking Squam Lake as the end of the day nears.

A peaceful, even romantic place.

It's a beautiful spot, with a wide, gentle trail to descend with headlamps after nightfall.  

October 18, 2026: Days are Getting Shorter

The days are getting shorter, the nights cooler, and nature is adjusting to the changes. Our trees are perhaps the most obvious change, but the animals are adapting too. This bobcat trotting down the road was sporting a mid-weight fur coat it didn't own just a few weeks ago. 

The bobcat's coat is a little more substantial than back in August.

It will only get thicker as the season progresses. 

A much appreciated aspect of fall is the end of mosquitoes and other annoying insects, but that also means more of our birds are heading south too.  And I haven't seen our loons for over a week now - could they have left the lake already?  There are still insects in the air, including dragonflies, but only the late season varieties such as this Autumn Meadowhawk warming itself on a dark surface to keep its muscles warm enough to chase its prey.

Autumn Meadowhawk (Sympetrum vicinim)

This is the last species of dragonfly to be seen in the Lakes Region as temperatures drop.  It can survive mild frosts and may be active into November before succumbing to the cold.  Before they die they will have mated and deposited their eggs at the waterline on wet muddy areas or in very shallow water.  I wonder if their eggs are impacted by lake drawdowns.

I saw several more meadowhawks sunning on rocky shorelines on my paddles looking for loons this week.  I haven't heard from anyone else seeing Pip or mom, so let me know if you have any sightings.  I did see a pair of eagles soaring over the lake though, taking advantage of the northwest wind pushing against the warm shoreline to gain altitude. 

A pair of bald eagles over Lake Wicwas

The cool weather has brought more foggy mornings to the Lakes Region such as this one on Wicwas with the tops of the tall pines illuminated by the rising sun and maple trees looming through the mist on the far side of the lake.

Fog developed again on the morning of a hike in the Squam Range just north of Squam Lake.  The first summit, Mt. Morgan, was totally socked in when we arrived.

No view from Mt. Morgan on Wednesday.

But by the time we reached Mt. Percival the sky was brightening and we were treated to watching the clouds break over the valley.  

Fog clears over Squam Lake with the Rattlesnakes poking through on the left.

Usually I see the morning fog burn off from below - it was a rare treat to observe the same phenomenon from the eagle's perspective.

It's amazing what Mother Nature can do with her paintbrush dipped in nothing but water.  

Thank you fellow hikers for another challenging excursion on a beautiful fall New England day.

Hiking through a New England hardwood forest in October.

There is still plenty of color in the forest, but the colors on the ground signal the end is near.

But not all is over yet.  The late-season asters are still blooming.

Heath asters are the last asters to bloom.

And the fuzzy, warm-coated native bumblebees are hanging in there like the hardy New Englanders they are.

A bumblebee collecting late season pollen from the heath asters.

There are even new plants with confused timing just starting to grow.

A variety of the "Pink" family (Caryophyllaceae) which includes Sweet William.

Even though this pretty flower is not native to North America, it has naturalized here and often seeds itself.  Mother nature sure has a lot of colors on her palate.

P.S.  If you've been following the story of cyanobacteria on Lake Kanasatka, here's an update from the New Hampshire Bulletin.

October 11, 2026: Foliage and Fungi

New Hampshire's trees timed things perfectly to have peak foliage line up with the long holiday weekend, and it's a great display this year.  

The west Shore of Lake Wicwas yesterday.

Maple tree in Oakland Cemetery in full dress uniform.

I think we're just about at peak here in the Lakes Region which means leaf peepers have the whole state to enjoy:  early colors to the south, peak here at the lakes, and just past peak in mountains and northward.  This is the busiest travel weekend all year for the state and it may set an all-time record with 4 million visitors expected over the foliage season.

Red Maple leaves

Those who live right here in the middle of it all have the benefit of just looking out the window to partake in the experience.

And when we do venture out, the locals know the hidden, untraveled back roads that pass through secret scenery without the crowds.  We took the back roads up to the Quincy Bog in Rumney where there's a beautiful two mile gentle walk around the bog.  

Quincy Bog

Unfortunately, the day we were visited, there were very few migrating birds to be seen - just a few mallards, though probably well over 100 Canada Geese.

Fall color isn't limited to just the leaves.  Witch Hazel, perhaps the latest blooming of the trees and shrubs, is only now putting out its delicate and spindly yellow blossoms.

Witch Hazel

These won't bear seeds until next fall.  

Late berries lend color too.  

Possumhaw showing off its colors.

I'll stop now with the foliage because I'm overdue for a fungus review.  

A large Chicken of the Woods

I'm not a mushroom expert and can't identify most of them, but I'll name those I think I have right.  What I can say about fungi is that the part of a fungus we see - often called a mushroom - is just a tiny part of a huge organism.  

A variety of amanita

The vast majority of most fungi is hidden underground; the part we see is just a fruit it produces above ground to distribute its spores.  The underground part, called mycelium, connects with other plants in a symbiotic relationship, and is in fact essential to the existence of the majority of our land-based plants.  Without mushrooms there would be no trees and possibly no plants at all.

A recently emerged Amanita is not fully open.

The mycelium is an extensive underground network of threadlike strands that grow slowly and may live for hundreds of years.  The fungus grows around and into the roots of plants, bringing nutrients to them, and in return, the trees provide the fungus with sugars the tree produced via photosynthesis. This explains why a mushroom can suddenly materialize and grow so large in just a few hours - it has tremendous stored energy in its vast underground system which it sends to the fruit when triggered.

Here are a few more of the most interesting of the many fungi I noticed this fall.

Northern Tooth (Climacodon septentrionalis)

This is perhaps a tooth fungus growing on a tree.

Orange Jelly

Next is this diner-plate sized mushroom.

This last one is very interesting and requires more research.  I'm not going to even venture a guess - what do you think it should be called?

That's it for the fungus report.  Moving on to a less enjoyable topic now, you may have see the report about a loon killed by lead poisoning this summer in the Loon Preservation Committee September Newsletter.

This x-ray shows the lead sinker the loon had ingested. LPC Photo.

This male loon, banded on Paugus Bay in 2024, has an interesting history including spending time on Lake Wicwas in the summer of 2024.  The LPC article includes a photo of the loon on Wicwas which was taken on May 6, 2024 and reported in the May 12, 2024 Wicwas Nature Journal. 

The loon killed by lead this fall, as seen on Wicwas in 2024.

The history, which includes hatching two chicks on Pickerel Pond in 2025, is in the LPC newsletter.  To date, seven loons - that we know of - have been killed on New Hampshire Lakes due to lead poisoning.  Thankfully, the two loons remaining on Lake Wicwas appear to be strong and healthy.

Pip and mom are here and doing well!