October 4, 2020: A Melancholy Day on the Lake

It's possible our loon parents have left the lake, and Harold and Betty are missing them terribly.  Yesterday I found them together, swimming slowly all the way down in Marion Cove, searching for their parents.  

Harold and Betty in perhaps their first exploration of Marion Cove.

It was the first time I've seen them north of Bryant Island, let alone all the way around the corner in our cove.  I'm certain they were out trying to find mom and dad.  

"Where are you mom?"

One of them was constantly wailing out the saddest sounds I've ever heard a loon make.   Click below to listen (sorry for all the background noise).

One of the two siblings showed me their wings and their maturing flight feathers which will soon be taking them off the only body of water they have ever known, and on to the foreign, salt-water world of the Atlantic Ocean.

"I can fly with these now!"

They are certainly looking like young adults now.

I wonder what it is that makes the parents decide it's time to leave their offspring all on their own.  Do they wait until the chicks have proven adept at fishing and have made good progress in their flight lessons?  Or is it something in their instincts that just makes them up and leave one day, never to see their kids again?  It's hard enough for parents and children when the kids leave the nest even when you know you see them again - I can't imagine what it's like for a loon family at separation time, but I guess those melancholy sounds give me an idea.

On a happier note, (no pun intended), our trees seems to have come though the drought this summer just fine.  I had wondered if the foliage would be muted this year due to a lack of rain but that doesn't seem to be the case.

They may not be as brilliant as some years, but I still give them a 7 or 8 out of 10.  And it's not just near the lakes, but the mountains are beautiful also.  This week I was on Mount Whiteface with a friend (thanks for the great hike JL!) and the colors were just about peak there in the southern White Mountains.

The drainage that feeds the Wonalancet River between Mt. Whiteface and Passaconway.

Farther down the drainage, with Mt. Chorcorua in the distance.

Central and northern New Hampshire had a little more rain than farther south; in another week or two we'll see what the forests to the south have to offer.  I met two people from Townsend Mass on the Hamlin Trails yesterday who said the leaves in Massachusetts were just falling off the trees.

If you've been out at all you have noticed that color isn't the only thing in abundance right now.  The oak trees are putting out another tremendous acorn crop, just a couple of years after the last one.  

Just a fraction of the acorns collected below one red oak tree.

Spent acorn caps from a branch knocked off in the wind.

That was the year we had "squirrel-ageddon".  This year someone called it a "chipmunk-apolypse" - there are chipmunks running around everywhere!  These high mast years bring about a large spike in the rodent population, which in turn will enable a healthy predator population of hawks, owls, fox, and ermine.  But even with all those chipmunks collecting acorns, soon to be followed by the deer, bears, and turkeys, they are so plentiful that many nuts will missed or forgotten and will germinate to create new oak trees next spring.

Speaking of turkeys, they continue to be quite visible around the lakes.  I came upon a flock up in the Oakland Cemetery a couple of days ago, and before that, a few took a stroll through our back yard.

I just caught the last one in line as the flock scurried into the woods.

What a strange looking bird.

All summer long turkeys have been turning up the oak leaves to uncover last years acorns buried under the leaf litter.

Ruffled up leaves from the turkey's acorn hunt.

This activity slowed during the middle of summer when lots of other food was available, but it has increased again the past couple of weeks.  

I'll close with a few more examples of nature's autumn glory, including colors across the spectrum, red to purple - even all the colors combined together: white.

Nodding Ladies Tresses, one of my favorite, delicate, fall flowers.

From the red of the hobblebush viburnum,

To the purple asters,

Fabulous fall colors surround us everywhere we look.

Update:  I just heard from someone that they think they saw an adult with the chicks this morning in the fog - more to follow.

12:00 noon update: I'm at the boat ramp doing my Lake Host duties, and one chick and one parent are here fishing right in front of me!  So maybe yesterday was just a trial run, letting the chicks know what to prepare for.  Or maybe they just needed a weekend away.  I'll assume the second chick is with the other parent; I'll keep watching.

May 27, 2018 - Moose in the Lakes Region

Defining the northern boundary of the Lakes Region is a set of mountains known as the Sandwich Range, the best known of these being 3490' tall Mt. Chocorua, with its bald peak sticking out prominently even among taller mountains.  Mt. Whiteface and Mt. Passaconaway are also in this range, and these two are the most southerly mountains of New Hampshire's famous 4000-footers (these two are visible to the right-of-center in the photo at the top of the blog).

Mt. Passaconaway from Mt. Whiteface;  Mt. Chocorua is in the distance

Hiking these two mountains this week I was thrilled to come upon a large quantity of moose droppings on the trail leading up to Mt. Passaconaway.  In fact, on one half-mile stretch I counted 64 piles of scat right on the trail, some being quite large (and fresh).

A lot of of moose poop

It was nice to see signs of a good moose population close by the Lakes Region, even if not quite within the formal boundary.  I used to see moose regularly in Meredith around Lake Wicwas - sometimes up near Arbutus Hill Pond, sometimes swimming across the lake, and sometimes right on Chemung Road.

Chemung Rd, 2011

Wading through the marshes

But the last moose I've seen around Wicwas was in 2013, and even their signs have been few and far between.  In 2016 I found scat on the trail in the Eames Conservation Easement, and also on Fogg Hill in Center Harbor, and in 2015 there were fresh tracks along Marion Lane in Meredith.

That's a big animal

The moose activity I found this week was at an elevation between 3200 and 3300 feet;  it's likely they are now favoring the cooler environment to the north and at higher altitudes as the climate becomes warmer.  I recently read an article by Kristine Rines in the May/June issue of the New Hampshire Wildlife Journal about the decline of moose in New Hampshire.  Over the past 17 years, the estimated population of moose in the state has declined from over 7,100 to 3,200, and the biggest cause is shorter winters which allows more ticks to attack and weaken moose.  Research done by collaring and tracking moose shows the impact of shorter, warmer winters:  collared moose calves were found to have mortality rates as high as 80% when winter arrived late, versus 30% when there is an early snow and dry fall.  Considering that our winters are already 3 weeks shorter than they were just 30 years ago, and getting worse, it doesn't look good for our local moose population.

When I first heard of the tick problem, I couldn't understand how a tiny tick could kill a giant moose.  (Note:  these are "winter ticks", Dermacentor albipictus, not the wood ticks or deer ticks that bother humans and domestic pets.)  But biologists studying moose harvested by hunters have counted ticks in the tens of thousands on a single animal.

Winter ticks on a moose's neck

Now I get it.  They not only kill calves and adults, but they weaken females enough that it lowers their reproductive rate.  One helpful factor is that the state tracks moose populations and reduces hunting permits based on the population in each wildlife management area (WMA), and will stop hunting altogether when a threshold population is hit.  Already, hunting has been stopped in two of New Hampshire's wildlife areas - how long will it be before it's stopped state-wide?

Around Meredith, I still expect to see moose again, but it may be a rare event.  We can only hope that other species don't have the same fate, although there is concern that we may lose the loons to a warming climate as well.  But not this year!  Our loons are back on the lakes and hopefully focused on finding a good nesting site.

The nesting season is looking a lot better than last year's rainy spring.  The lakes are already at their summer levels and having been rather dry (the past two days meager rainfall notwithstanding), perhaps the black flies won't torment the loons as much.  We're keeping our eyes open for signs of nesting activity already.

And if you're out and about (with your tick repellent in hand!) keep your eye open for more flowers.  The lilacs and colombine are blooming now, and I saw my first Lady's Slipper on Wednesday.

Pink Lady's Slipper on the Harris Conservation Area

Columbine along the trail on Red Hill in Moultonborough

And if you're on the water over the next few weeks, be careful to give the loons a wide berth;  we want to give them every chance to avoid the fate of the moose as long as possible.