January 18, 2025: January Thaw

The January thaw came early this year when we saw three days with the temperature in the 40s.  Warm winter days always encourage a bit more activity in the outside world.  I saw a chipmunk out looking for fresh food, and a red squirrel came to compete with the gray squirrels under the bird feeders.

A red squirrel comes to visit.

It even dares to enter the squirrel house.

Prior to this I've noticed red squirrels finding lots to eat all on their own. 

These holes in the snow are scattered around the forest, indicating where a squirrel's fine sense of smell detected something down under the snow, often an acorn, sometimes a pinecone.

Oak leaves tell me this squirrel was after acorns.

A cone under the snow is most likely from a white pine that dropped it in the fall, because the cones from hemlock trees are still on the branches.  For these, the red squirrel sits in the tree and strips the scales off the tiny cones to access the even smaller seed underneath each scale.  A hemlock with a good crop of cones is noted by the large array of debris underneath it.

Debris scattered by a red squirrel stripping hemlock cones.

That's a lot of hemlock cones!

The tiny scales, and an intact cone attached to a hemlock branch.

Hemlock cones are quite small, the scales smaller, and the seeds underneath smaller yet, but they pack enough energy to make it valuable for birds and rodents to make the effort to extract them.

  

Larger bits of detritus found under trees are created by a larger bird hunting for larger prey.

This scattering of wood chips was made by a pileated woodpecker chopping holes in a decaying white pine to access insects, almost certainly eggs and larvae of carpenter ants that have made a nest in the soft, decaying wood. 

 Chips made by a pileated woodpecker can be two or three inches long.

Looking up I see where they came from.

This dead pine will feed a lot of different animals both before and after it falls.

So far this winter we have seen all but two of our most common avian friends at the feeders; the only ones missing to date are mourning doves and juncos (aka snowbirds).  To date we have seen chickadees, titmice, downy and hairy woodpeckers, white and red-breasted nuthatches, and goldfinches - lots of gold finches.  This week they emptied one of the feeders in just a few days.  

Goldfinches can monopolize the feeders, but it didn't stop this chickadee from trying to claim a perch.

Goldfinches are small but bold birds, able to fend off even the big bully of the feeders, the white-breasted nuthatch.  They can also be aggressive to their own kind.

Although when a woodpecker shows up, even the smaller downy woodpecker, everyone moves over, at least for a few moments. 

Downy Woodpecker

Other nearby birdwatchers with different local habitats have reported winter birds that we rarely see at our feeders, including bluebirds and cardinals.  Over the course of the winter we usually get a few interesting visitors such as crossbills, purple finches, cedar waxwings, and the aforementioned bluebirds.  We're surprised at how rarely we see blue jays, often thought of as birdfeeder bullies.  

Put the dates February 14 and 15 on your calendar for the NH Audubon Backyard Bird Count.  Anyone can participate and it only requires a few minutes in the comfort of your own home.  I'll provide more information on that in the coming weeks.

As a result of the warm days and some rain, the lake once again offered excellent skating opportunities when, in typical New England fashion, the temperature plummeted overnight from the 40s to the single digits.

A very nice skating surface.

Add in 20 mph northwest winds, and I didn't mind that a sore ankle gave me an excuse to not partake in skating on a cold blustery day.  And the next day?

The snow was back and the skating over.  

But there were some signs of spring this week if you squinted hard.  On those warm days I heard chickadees singing their spring "dee-dee-dee" song, and the sighting of a chipmunk is always promising.  And then there was this:

A few bits of yellow summer plumage peeking out from under the brown winter feathers of a male goldfinch is always a positive sign.  It's still early in winter, but we're already one-third of the way to the spring equinox!

March 16, 2025: It's Not Spring Yet

We enjoyed some beautiful late-winter weather this week, with sunny days and temperatures into the mid-sixties.  I took a walk on one of those days to see if I could find some early signs of spring - I was not very successful.  The best I could find were the sounds of birds singing their spring songs:  chickadees, titmice, and woodpeckers rapping on dead trees.  It wasn't too surprising, considering there's still a foot on snowpack on the ground and 18 inches of ice in the lake.  It's not looking like an early ice-out this year.  Here was a Tufted Titmouse hidden somewhere in the treetops, singing his "peter-peter-peter" song to secure his territory.

Later in the week I saw my first chipmunk running around on the snow, and soon there were lots of them out and about.  Now that the squirrels have done their thing, it appears it's the chipmunks' turn to be claiming mates and territory, as they chased each other around the forest.

No videos - these guys are a lot faster than the squirrels!

We're winding down the bird feeding season, letting the feeders be emptied out before the bears awaken, hungry and in search of food. 

 Only another week or two of observing them up close and personal.

On a hike up Mt. Liberty in Franconia Notch I was able to compare the trees that try to eke out a living in New Hampshire's harsh environment at the relatively low elevation of 4,000 - 5,000 feet.  Here's what the trees look like at the 4,500 foot summit of Liberty.  

Even below the summit in a protected area they find it hard to survive.

Growing a little taller in a protected swale at 4,300'.

Compare those to the towering Lodgepole Pines we saw last week at 9,000 feet in Rabbits Ears Pass.

Yes, there's still lots of snow and ice in the mountains, as well as here in Meredith.

A small stream crossing the Liberty Springs Trail.

The vernal equinox arrives in just four day, but there are still 18 inches of winter's ice safeguarding Lake Wicwas.

Short of a drastic heatwave, there won't be an early ice-out this year.

July 24, 2022: Loon Overload

The loon activity has been way over the top this past week.  It began with reports by two observant parties of a loon acting strangely on the lake - just floating for long periods of time and not diving or fishing.  Though loons can act like this, the local LPC loon biologist asked me to go out and investigate, and if I could find the suspect loon, instructed me to approach it slowly to see if it would dive.  It took me two searches of the lake before I found the right loon, hanging close to shore far away from the other loons on the lake, with a leg held out in an awkward position.  

An unusual pose for a loon.

I've often seen loons wag their foot, sometimes for a minute or longer (the reason why they do this isn't known, but one theory is for temperature management) but never in this position with the whole leg exposed.  I did approach the loon slowly, and it continued to hold that foot out and it did not dive.  It did however swim away from me, but only using one foot. 

I've never seen a loon try to swim with only one foot paddling.

Any time I've seen a loon weigh anchor and get underway it has always used both paddles, and this poor bird swimming along using just one foot told me something wasn't right.  By the time I found it in the late afternoon the LPC biologists were preparing for night time banding, so a mission to assess the bird had to wait until the next morning when I met two of the biologists who came prepared with a large net to capture the injured bird for assessment and possible treatment.  

We were able to locate the bird in just about the same location, but it took a moment to be sure because now the questionable leg wasn't held in the air, but rather flat against the water, thought still looking unnatural.  But this time, as we approached, the bird dove!  And I was able to watch it swim rather swiftly under the water.  After watching a second dive the biologists determined the bird was healing quickly and was able to again catch fish and defend itself, so it was decided to let it be.  They asked those who first reported the concern to keep an eye on it, and thanked them for their quick action in reporting the injury.

I asked the LPC team what might have caused an injury like this and the two likely causes are a fight with another loon - a battling loon will grab hold of any body part it can get - or a snapping turtle with a big appetite.  They told of story when someone observed a loon struggling in the water, unable to swim, until it finally escaped the grasp of a large turtle.  That would hurt a leg!

While the LPC biologists were here we toured the entire lake, surveyed the loons present (six), inspected both loon nests, and collected the shell fragments from Maddie's egg.  

LPC biologist Caroline Hughes searches (unsuccessfully) for signs of an egg at the Marion Cove nest while summer intern Tayor Tewksbury records GPS coordinates.

Every last shell fragment of Maddies's egg was carefully collected from the Harris Cove nest.

The next loon event was a two day, maybe longer, battle between two loons, one of which was the banded female from the nest in Marion Cove.  The first time I watched them they spent well over an hour battling each other in the cove.  They were circling, diving, chasing, at one point right up against the shore.  They progressed all the way around the cove and were still going after each other as they went out of sight.  

The next day the same thing occurred.  I can only assume it's two females fighting.  I understand that male loons secure and defend a mating territory while the females fight over a male.  So perhaps a new female has arrived and the banded female is trying to drive her off to defend her position with the banded male.  Or perhaps the intruder is trying to drive off the current female to take over its mate - it's impossible to tell who's the antagonist, but it's been going on long enough that I'm starting to wonder if it will continue until the weaker bird is exhausted and perhaps killed.  

The injured loon was reported before I saw these encounters, so perhaps it was injured in an earlier fight, but  it would have had to heal well enough to go back to fight again.  This scenario is hard to watch, but it was only last year that this very same banded female drove off our previous mate to the banded male, and that female (which was also banded) hasn't been seen since.  

Our present female drove off our long-term nesting female last summer.  She's very proud of her jewelry.

As I said last week, it's a tough life, being a loon.

Immediately following four weeks of nest duty it appears loons are hungry.  I watched one of the northern-pair loons play with a huge sunfish it caught in order to subdue it sufficiently to swallow it whole. 

A big sunfish.

It caught the fish, thrashed it around, released it, caught it again and repeated the process for several minutes.

Wearing the fish out by catching it again and again.

It made one attempt to swallow it but decided it was still too lively. 

Not this time.

So the loon played with it for another minute or two before it finally managed to send it down to its gizzard.

Down it goes.

Talk about getting a fish bone stuck in your throat!

Imagine swallowing a whole fish, bones, scales, and all, and digesting it in your stomach.  No wonder they swallow small stones (and sometimes lead sinkers) to help grind up their food.

And this came in late Saturday:  Another loon observer (thank you CF!) reported a loon on the side of Chemung Road near the lake.  Dave and Marge Thorpe went right out to investigate and found the loon no longer on the road, but in the thick weeds close to the road.  It did make its way back out to the lake on its own.  Could this be the injured loon from earlier in the week?  Just another mystery on the lake.

And of course, there is Maddie.

Maddie goes for a ride.

As of late Saturday she is doing fine and her parents are already taking her on long excursions away from the nest.  She's being fed well, is growing quickly, and evidently being kept well away from the other loons; she has been consistently observed with her parents way over on the west side of the lake along the Hamlin conservation area where no loons have nested recently.  

A little fish for a little loon.

It seems they moved the family over there to distance themselves from all the drama taking place on the lake.

That's too much loon action for one week, so as not to go on too long, I'll just add few pictures from a morning walk along Chemung Rd. (Happily, no loons were seen on the road.)

Meadowsweet on the side of the road.

A gray catbird sings good morning.

A bowl and doily spider web snags small insects.

Eastern chipmunk on lookout.

All of these were along just a quarter mile stretch of Chemung Road by the Chemung State Forest.  One doesn't have to travel deep into the forest to find interesting sights!

Photo and caption by Debby Crowley.

August 15: The Dog Days of Summer

Two weeks ago I mentioned the fruit of the black cherry trees was starting to ripen and they would turn from red to black if the birds and the bears didn't eat them all first.  Well, they better get busy because the chipmunks are after them too.

A chipmunk's cheeks stuffed full with black cherries.

A chipmunk's cheeks stuffed full with black cherries.

I was a bit surprised to see a chipmunk climbing around in the branches a good 15 feet above the ground, but evidently it has nothing to worry about because at one point when I startled it, it just let go and dropped to the ground bouncing gently off a couple of branches on the way down.  Their acrobatics in the cherry tree rival those of the gray squirrels on their winter feeder.

Representing Team Chipmunk in the Wildlife Olympics

I wonder if they eat the flesh of the fruit now and store the pits away in their dens for winter consumption.  And they're not just after the cherries but are harvesting blueberries as well; my brother took this picture of a chippy in the blueberry bushes in Canterbury.

Collecting blueberries in Canterbury.  Photo by Glen Powell.

I haven't seen the chipmunks in the hobblebushes, but something is eating that fruit as there are very few making it to the fully ripe black stage.

A few black hobblebush viburnum berries have survived long enough to turn black.

Another week of fishing and growing has seen our loon chicks molt all but a few remnants of their prior feathers.  With these new, denser feathers they're now able to compress the air out of them, allowing deeper and faster dives.  They almost look like small, pale versions of an adult at this point.

Jimmy has a just few tufts of baby feathers left on his tail.

After plentiful rain in July the weather has turned to classic New England summer:  hot, hazy, and humid.  This week was the pick of the summer so far for vacationing.  It's the kind of weather where you can spend all day in the lake and when you get out you're not cold even without drying off.  But all that moisture in the atmosphere makes for some hazy skies.  We went for a hike in Franconia Notch on Friday and with visibility only about 20 miles, the mountain ranges were looking like the Blueridge Mountains.

Hazy skies from the summit of South Kinsman.

On our way down from the Kinsmans we went by Lonesome Lake where lots of people were cooling off in the high altitude pond with Mount Lafayette in the background.

Lonesome Lake with the Franconia Range looming in the background.

Sunsets are like snowflakes - no two are ever the same - and with all that water in the atmosphere great sunsets keep coming.  

Even on a hot day of hiking, there are plenty of smiles in New Hampshire.

Summit of South Kinsman

The top of a mountain must have been the coolest spot in all of New England this week.