August 9, 2026: Life at the lake slows down, but it never stops

August is a time when things slow down around the lakes.  Most animals are done nesting and keeping a low profile as they raise and protect their young.  Birds are mostly quiet and mammals keep to safe, secluded areas.  But there is still life to be found.  Several summer birds - vireos, thrushes, chickadees, even owls - can be heard calling even on the warmest summer afternoons.  Insects are trilling at night, as are frogs and toads.  And sometimes, life hops out right in front of you when you least expect it.

Pickerel Frog

This pickerel frog leapt out of a flower pot onto the deck when I was watering Linda's begonias.

Finding shady areas with damp soil in her flowers must be a favorite trick frogs use to keep cool and damp because this occurred multiple times in various flower pots during this hot, dry week.

An observant person on Harris Cove noticed another summer resident finding a way to cool off on a hot day.  They first thought a beaver was swimming across the lake, but when it reached shore and emerged from the water, it was something a bit larger than a beaver.

A Black Bear climbs out of the lake after a refreshing swim across Harris Cove.

Thank you SM and JH for sharing!

Then of course, there's the most visible sign of life around the lake - the loons.  Loons really have no place to hide, which means we get to observe the entire offspring-raising process.  

Pip on August 7th, halfway through its molt of baby fuzz to juvenile plumage.

Each summer on Lake Wicwas has been different and interesting ever since a second pair of loons appeared on the lake in 2016 after decades of just one pair having the lake to themselves.  After the first year - when the two pairs fought over the lake all summer - they made a peace agreement, dividing the lake in half, with each pair keeping to their side.  Until now that is, when there have been six loons on the lake most of the summer.  Friday morning I observed an altercation between five loons right at the dividing line.  It began with four of them doing aggressive circle dancing with lots of head dipping, diving, wing rowing and calling. 

Four loons in an aggressive circle dance.

Then the fifth showed up, steaming in from the north territory - I'm guessing it was the northern male.  Things settled down pretty quickly then.  One of the five - presumably the northern male - headed back to the north and the other four went south, two pushing the other two along. 

Putting together all the pieces I've observed over the summer, I have theory:  A third pair has decided it wants to claim territory on Wicwas.  My observations are consistent with both territorial pairs pushing these new intruders out of their territory, so the newcomers are getting squeezed on both sides into the demilitarized zone at the boundary.  

We know the northern male is especially large.  (When he was banded, his legs were too large for any of the metal bands the LPC had, which is why he wears only  a single plastic band.)  My theory includes the south pair experiencing the brunt of the intruders attempt to claim a territory.  This could explain why the south pair abandoned an egg half way through the incubation period - they were too busy defending their territory to tend to it.  It would also explain why we often see Pip left alone while the parents are chasing the intruders back out of their territory.  I watched one aggressive chase with wing-rowing and calling as one loon chased another out of Marion Cove.

I won't be surprised if we have a third pair appear next summer to continue their mission to nest on Lake Wicwas.

Here's another example of late-summer activity; this one needs video:

Fortunately, these are non-biting insects, just male midges swarming in search of females with which to mate.

Thanks to the recording made by association secretary Dean Dexter at last week's Lake Wicwas Association annual meeting, I was able to create a video of my presentation "The Formation of a Gem".  You can find it here:  The Formation of a Gem

I'll close with a new (for me) aquatic plant I found during my recent weed watch tour - it's small, native, representative of good water quality, and pretty too.

Water Lobelia (Lobelia dortmanna)

Enjoy all the glory of New Hampshire in August!

September 21, 2025: A Flock of Flickers

Tomorrow marks the autumnal equinox, and fall migration is well underway.  I was in Wilmot for a forestry class, and from one open meadow we watched a kettle of a dozen or more Broad-Winged Hawks fly over us using the warm air from the field to gain altitude on the rising thermals.  There was also a Red-tailed Hawk mixed in with them.  Another migrating species seen this week was the Northern Flicker.

Northern Flicker

There was a flock of a least a dozen birds feeding madly on some type of insect in the gravel road. 

Picking insects from the road.

They were borrowing a trick from crows which pull up chunks of sod in lawns to find grubs; the flickers were turning over small stones to find their prey.

Stones uprooted in search of insects.

That first photo was a male flicker, identified by the black "mustache" on its face.  The female is lacking that mark.

Female Flicker.

Both have a black chest mark and a red chevron on the back of their head; the eastern version, described as the "yellow-shafted" group, has yellow wing feathers, the edges of which can be seen in the above photo and the following photo.  In flight, a conspicuous white spot is visible from behind.  

Note the red chevron and yellow wing edges.

Either way, It's a handsome bird.

The Lakes Region is right at the southern limit of its breeding range (which is likely moving northward now) so this flock was probably traveling together on their way south, which for some flickers may be as near as southern New Hampshire.

This was another week of totally rain-free, warm, sunny days.  I spent one afternoon just drifting in a couple of secluded marshes watching birds and dragonflies.  The dragonflies provided the best entertainment as dozens of them darted over the water and vegetation, defending their own territory and testing the defenses of their neighbors.  Only for a moment would one hover over its claim before an intruder had to be sent away, but I was able to capture a few of them.

The next day a pretty Autumn Meadowhawk posed on a railing for me.

Male Autumn Meadowhawk

The bright red abdomen indicates it's a mature male.  Earlier I had seen a duller meadowhawk which was probably a female, or perhaps an immature male.

Floating peacefully in the late afternoon September sun, reflecting on the beauty of life, one has time to discover the smaller aspects of the world that usually go unnoticed.  On this day, low in my kayak, small white specs on fading green lily pads caught my eye.

I thought they were eggs of some sort.  But looking closely, I saw small spikes sticking out from some of them - they looked like legs.  So I plucked one of the pads and brought it home for further study. 

A macrophotograph revealed more detail.

A little digging brought me to conclude these are the shed exoskeletons of a small insect that hatched from an egg in the water into a larval stage, and when ready, climbed onto a lily pad to shed its shell and fly away as a winged insect.  My best guess is a species of midge in the family Chironomidae, which are small non-biting insects.  One study of New Hampshire lakes by Donna Frances identified 65 species of midges.  [Ref:  Distribution of Midge Remains (Diptera: Chironomidae) in Surficial Lake Sediments in New England]

I'm afraid I have to close this week on a sad note.  Rhys Bowen passed away suddenly this week.  Many readers of this journal knew Rhys from his many years of work with the Lakes Region Conservation Trust, most recently as Chair of the Board of Trustees.  In fact, the day before he passed, Rhys was with a team evaluating a property as a possible conservation opportunity.  Rhys was an expert birder; he led guided bird walks for the LRCT, and was one of my go-to experts for bird advice, whether on a bird identification, or for finding good birding spots from South Carolina to Alaska.  When I corrected a birding ID on this blog, it was usually Rhys that gently noted I may have made an error.  

Rhys was a good friend who gave so much to me and so many others in our community.  I am among the many who will miss him greatly.