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

February 17, 2019: The Patience of an Owl

I was outside one morning this week taking care of a few things before a bit of snow was expected to arrive, when I heard the distressed calling of birds.  Many of our local aviary residents have a variety of calls to communicate with their flock, with the chick-a-dee having the most diverse and complex vocalizations of them all.  From the gentle dee-dee of a warm spring morning, to the harsh tzeee of their warning call, they talk among their flock quite a bit.  Other birds have even learned to use their calls as a warning to escape from a dangerous situation.  Hearing these cautionary signals I took a look around to see if I could find what they had found.  It didn't take too long.

The barred owl (Strix vaira) is New Hampshire's most common owl, and one of the largest

This beautiful barred owl had selected a perch high in a maple that gave it a bird's-eye view of both the front and back yard feeders, and the birds didn't like it.  Neither did the squirrels, none of which were any where to be seen.  I would venture a guess that the rodents didn't even see it fly it, but took note of the birds' warning.  It was interesting to note that the chick-a-dees didn't depart, rather they hung around calling, and even approaching the owl - not mobbing it or directly harassing it, but letting the owl and everyone else know they were aware of its presence.  So Mr. owl just sat there, watching and waiting.

After a time the birds became brave enough to return to the feeders.  It's a good indication that owls don't usually take a bird in flight the way a kestrel might, or birds at all for that manner; owls this large prefer terrestrial targets like mice and squirrels where they can silently swoop down for the kill.  Perhaps you saw in the Laconia Daily Sun this week two pictures that Margaret Higginbotham took of an owl on Chemung Road in Meredith that had caught a gray squirrel right in the road.

Photo by Margaret Higginbotham

Now it's possible it was just opportunistically taking advantage of road kill, but I think that's unlikely since the squirrel looked pretty un-squashed as the owl flew away with it.

Photo by Margaret Higginbotham

I wonder if it's the same bird.  Or maybe its mate, as barred owls mate about now.  The female will lay a clutch of two to four eggs which hatch in March after a four week incubation period.  Once the eggs are laid the male brings food to the female which stays on the nest.  I checked back on our bird a bit later, and it was still there, patiently waiting for its chance to strike.  It would turn its head from side to side on occasion, sometimes looking straight at me, but never appearing overly concerned.

On a gray day, sitting in a tree with bare branches, it blended in nicely with its surroundings - I never would have seen it without the smaller birds' warning.

Then the snow came.

Still the bird sat quietly, letting the snow build up on it, just adding to its disguise.

It kept its feet pretty well covered up from the cold, but at one point I caught a glimpse of talons.

Being nocturnal and at a distance, it's hard to know if it was awake or sleeping (perhaps with one eye open a bit?) but it swiveled its head back and forth on occasion, so it wasn't asleep the whole time.

Are you sleeping?

I saw it a few more times over the course of the day, and it was still there five hours later at last sighting.  But the next time I looked it was gone.  I saw no signs of an attack in the snow, nor any squirrel tracks around, so I don't if know it found a meal and left, or just decided it was time to move on.  But it sure was patient.  Then again, what else does an owl have to do all day?

November 19, 2017 - Chickadees a-flocking

A November dusting

Well, it's definitely November.  And at least some of the wild creatures have figured it out.  There have been many more mallards stopping by on their way south than most years.

Mallards, like many ducks, pair up in the fall and will remain as a pair through the winter, and I have seen plenty of courting behavior.  

A female displays "nod-swimming" while the others watch

A male does a "head-shake"

Then a female shows off her stuff

It seems like Lake Wicwas is a good pick-up spot.

In contrast to the mallards (considered "dabblers"), I have seen almost no diving ducks.  I saw one hooded merganser back in late October, no more since then, and no common mergansers, golden-eyes, or ring-necked ducks, and I don't know why.  The geese are still hanging around, though I don't know if they are the summer residents or birds working their way south from points north.  

And there has been a possible sighting of loons on Lake Wicwas this week, which isn't unexpected.  Loons are still in the area, including the female nesting loon on Pleasant Lake, thanks to Kittie Wilson's observations.  

Pleasant Lake female in her winter colors;  Photo by Kittie Wilson

I wonder if she will join her mate over the winter, or spend the season apart and reunite on the lake in spring.

We don't need to be concerned about loons being here until the lake is almost completely frozen over.

I was given clear notice by a flock of chickadees one afternoon that I was trespassing in their territory - lots of loud calling and complaining.

Black capped Chickadee

Chickadees have formed their winter flocks now, after spending the summer with their individual family groups.  In breeding season mating pairs separate from the flock and spend the summer in a smaller territory with their immediate family.  When winter approaches they gather again into larger flocks that together defend a larger territory, visiting their feeding locations on a daily basis.

If they encounter another flock in their territory they will attempt to drive it away, yet they often allow other species to join their flock, which is why we see mixed flocks of chickadees, nuthatches, woodpeckers, and titmice at feeders.

No, the feeders aren't out yet - this is from last year

It's thought that these birds follow along with the chickadees to take advantage of the chickadees knowledge of prime feeding sites.  [Ref:  "A Guide to Bird Behavior" Vol I, Donald W. Stokes, Little, Brown and Company]

It may just the start of a long winter for birds and humans, but there are reminders that all seasons are fleeting:  buds that will bloom next spring have already been formed, just waiting for their time in the sun.

New buds ready for next year's Hobblebush Viburnum

But for now, it's November.

Correction:  Last week I said the first frost occurred on October 9th - that should have said November 9th.