Cape Ann this week

Some additional images from this week's day trip to Cape Ann, Massachusetts.

Common Eider (drake)

Hedrring Gull

Common Eider (1st winter drake)

Rocky Neck

Common Loon (Adult non-breeding)

And finally ... probably my favorite photo of the day ...ds

Herring Gull

Good birding!

Potpouri of Things with Wings

From the last few weeks, a miscellany of winged things that have crossed my path here and there.

The Common Loons on Sunset Lake seem to be on the way to successfully raising a chick, the first in a couple of years of failures (mainly from predators and competing loons).

Common Loon - Sunset Lake, Vermont

Young Wood Duck on the Wissahickon River, Philadelphia ...

Wood Duck - Wissahickon River, Philadelphia

Wood Duck - Wissahickon River, Philadelphia

Young Hooded Merganser, Wilson Wetlands, Putney, VT

Hooded Merganser, Wilson Wetlands, Putney, VT

From various places in Windham County, Vermont

Eastern Comma

Meadowhawk species

One of the smallest dragonflies, Eastern Amberwing, barely an inch in length - easily missed except for the golden glister of the wings  ...

Eastern Amberwing

Finally, from my backyard ...

Great Spangled Fritillary

Blue Jay- youngster who has figured out how to feed himself

Pearl Crescent

American Lady

Birding - after a fashion

Today is the first day is several weeks when I am relatively free of post-hurricane issues and could enjoy a day of birding. But ... it is raining !! - so indoors it will be.

This past weekend, I did some birding after a fashion. The Newfane Heritage Festival showcased over ninety artists, craftspeople, and specialty food folk, some of whom find their inspiration from birds. Here are a few ...

Chickadee - reverse painting on glass by Joann Gaffron-Hargrove, Springfield, VT

Loon - James Easton, woodcarver, North Windham, CT

Pileated Woodpecker - Phil Morgan, woodcarver, Athens, VT

Hand-carved bird house - Mark Wingertson, Petersham, MA

Meanwhile ... post-hurricane work continued.

Last Friday, work was completed on restoration of the river bank behind our home as part of the long term protection of roads and bridges.

Dozer levels fill where the Weeping Willow once stood

On Saturday, friends from Pennsylvania came to help with post-hurricane clean-up. They attempted to clean a debris jam on the "river's edge" behind our home. The intense force of the water packed material so tightly that it was almost impenetrable. Finally, I asked the neighbor who is putting in the new leach field for our septic system to use his backhoe to pull the debris loose. In the next few days he will complete the job and haul the material to a nearby burn pile.

Debris jam yielded reluctantly to the backhoe

Neighbors and friends supervise the backhoe work

When the weather clears again, I am looking forward to some Good Birding!

Bad News and Good News

From April through August, the American public watched  the environmental disaster caused by the corporate failures of BP and its associates. Millions of barrels of crude oil poured into the Gulf of Mexico, fouling beaches, marshes, the sea bed, killing untold numbers of wildlife and seafood resources, and threatening the livelihood of people who have lived on those waters for generations.

After months of trial and error, and learn-as-we-go, the oil well was finally stopped, then permanently “killed.” The disaster was over and the American public breathed a sigh of relief. With a normal attention span of a two-year old toddler, the oil spill had taxed the public’s concentration ability almost to the breaking point. The broadcast media, with an even shorter attention span, quickly filled the gap once the oil was stopped. Finally they could report on something really important like the failed drug test and additional jail time for Lindsay Lohan, that poor girl.

Out of sight and out of mind. The New England Patriots won on Sunday. Life is back to normal and good.

Don’t believe it for a minute. The Gulf oil spill is a disaster which will require decades before complete recovery is achieved, if recovery is even achievable.

Collectively, the American public has a very short attention span on average. But imagine what that average would be like if it was not raised by people who have a longer span. Some people do remember, even back many years. And you remember over twenty years ago (1989) when the Exxon Valdez ran aground in Prince William Sound in Alaska and spilled its load of crude oil. At that time, we thought it could not get any worse. But recent events have shown that one drunken ship captain is nothing compared to the collective malfeasance of corporate corner cutters.

Sticking with the Alaska spill: scientists have continued to study the effects of oil on the ecology of Prince William Sound. Living Bird, published by Cornell Lab of Ornithology, reported in the Summer, 2010 issue, some of the results of the continuing study. Before the Exxon Valdez, it was thought that oil from a spill dissipates rather quickly and natural systems rebound. “So scientists were surprised when a 10-year reassessment shows that many species in Prince William Sound had not recovered, and some, such as Pigeon Guillemots and herring, were still getting worse.” They have also found thousands of gallons of unweathered crude under the sand and rocks, particularly the intertidal areas where it periodically gets stirred back into the water.

 Harlequin Ducks provide one example of the long term effects. These ducks have the ability (shared with many vertebrates) to make an enzyme when they encounter the toxins contained in oil, such as PCBs and dioxins. “There are few natural resources of these compounds, especially in otherwise largely unpolluted Prince William Sound, so finding the enzyme indicates that the ducks have recently ingested some toxic oil ... In the 2010 study, Harlequin Ducks in oiled areas had up to four times as much toxin-fighting enzyme activity as ducks from clean comparison areas - a clear signal they were still being exposed to toxins on a day-to-day basis.”

When the Exxon Valdez spill occurred, 7 percent of the Harlequin Ducks died outright. Fortunately, the toxins to which they are still exposed do not seem to be fatal. Their numbers are increasing, though they are still a long way from fully recovering.

Enzymes and toxins are rather arcane, and it all happened a long time ago, and things are better, so why worry? Paris Hilton, the media reports, got busted again for drug possession. Spoiled rich girl.

Maybe it is time for people with longer attention spans to have some good news, and there is good news to be had.

A posting on the website of the Vermont Center for Ecostudies (vtecostudies.blogspot.com) summarizes the 2010 breeding season for Common Loons in Vermont. The years-long work of the Vermont Loon Recovery Project is (cautiously) showing success.

In 2010, 72 loon pairs attempted to nest. 57 pair were successful. 70 loon chicks survived through August. Ten years ago there were only 38 nesting pairs and 44 chicks survived.

The statewide loonwatch survey done in July counted 210 adult loons on 127 lakes, down from 228 adult loons in 2009. “The reasons for the decline are unclear although early high winds and waves might be a major factor. Also, two adult loons were killed by other loons in June during territorial battles. Loons are very territorial, and competition will likely cause Vermont’s loon population to level out. This might be the beginning of that.” (Footnote: one of the territorial loon fatalities was in Brattleboro.)

Species which are at the top of the food chain, such as the Common Loon, are relatively few in number. We have removed or mitigated many of the unnatural causes of loon mortality, such as DDT in the environment, human caused habitat loss, and human disturbance. But the loon population in Vermont will not experience unlimited growth. On its own our loon population will achieve a balance brought about by the genetic strength of individuals, territorial limits, predation, weather patterns, and other complex interrelated forces.

One final piece of good news: It is unlikely that Vermont’s loons will be affected by the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. Our loons migrate to the New England coast for the winter. Adults usually leave the chicks to fend for themselves and head toward the coast in October. If the chicks have figured out the last bits of surviving on their own, they will head to the coast in November.

Good birding.

Tough and No-Nonsense

Two weeks ago, I wrote about the nesting loons on a nearby mountain lake. I reported that a dead loon had been found on the lake, apparently killed by the resident loon pair. A reader sent me an email, reporting that she was kayaking on the lake and saw the attack: “It was brutal and quick, the killing. They are such powerful birds.” I posted the email on my blog along with a photograph of one of the resident loons. That post brought this response: “Now that I've heard this story, the loon in your photo looks rather tough and no-nonsense.”

That is the way nature is: tough and no nonsense. Often brutal and violent.
So much of our lives are lived in a protective, artificial bubble, where temperature is controlled, inconveniences minimized, and life sanitized. But intrusions occur, nightly or even hourly, as modern media makes a disaster out of a thunder storm and a crisis out of a traffic jam ... where wars and rumors of war abound, where we are reminded again and again of how human degradation and brutality or just plain greed can destroy lives and livelihoods, and contaminate the pristine and beautiful.

That is how we so often look at the natural world outside of our bubbles - pristine, lovely, peaceful, a place of tranquility and regeneration. The spirit is refreshed when a rainbow sparkles in the sunlight after a gentle rain, or when the setting sun reflects across quiet waters, or moonlight bathes the night with soft light.

All is in order when we see deer grazing in a meadow, or a beaver swimming through a glassy surface, trailing a gentle wake. We love watching the sweet, little birds that hurry back and forth at our bird feeders. Even the chipmunk can bring a smile to the face as it stuffs its cheeks with fallen seed, tilting its head in curious observation as we stir nearby.

But that is not the way it is. The world outside of our climate controlled cocoons, outside of our frantic and over busy lives, outside of our technological insulation and electronic amusements, does not exist for our escapism. That world is an complex laboratory for life, a continuous experimentation in what works, what works best, what will best survive.

The chipmunk that most quickly learns not to trust the slightest movement in its vicinity, even your benign stirring, is most likely to live long enough to pass along its survival genes. Cute as it may appear as it gathers your fallen seed, its purpose in life is 1) to produce a new generation and 2) to be food for something larger.

I watch the songbirds in my backyard. They are raising their young. They feed their young with insects. They consume prodigious quantities of tiny, bothersome creatures. Is that good? But then a hawk comes through the backyard and kills one of those beloved songbirds. Is that bad?

Neither. Good or bad simply do not apply. Those are value judgments which may be appropriate as we consider our actions, the actions of other people, or the events of history. Creating a hierarchy of acceptable behaviors, articulating moral and ethical standards within the human community, is an ongoing endeavor for those who aspire to a civilized, and civil, world. Though it may sometimes seems like an exercise in futility, it is an endeavor we can never let up on.

For the rest of life on this green and watery planet, there is no good or bad. There is only the ongoing experimentation to discover what works best. Whether an individual or a species, the creatures which discover what works best survive; the others go extinct.

The loons on the nearby mountain lake are sleek and graceful in the water, and superb underwater swimmers. (In Europe they are called “divers.”) They raise two chicks a year. When the young are left on their own, they must learn to feed themselves, avoid predators, and survive storms and all manner of unexpected dangers for several years before they will be old enough to reproduce. That means that for the sake of the species, each breeding pair must take a no-nonsense approach to raising their two chicks each year. And if that means driving out Canada Geese and chasing off Mallards, and preventing other loons from competing for food, nesting space, or breeding rights, then that is what will be done.

The Common Loon is a large bird - nine pounds, thirty-two inches long, and a four foot wingspan. The adult loon does not have many enemies. Apart from humans, the biggest threat may come from the Bald Eagle which preys in particular on the eggs and the chicks, and on the juveniles after the parents have left them on their own. From a lake in Minnesota, I found this account: “The eagle attacked, not an unsuspecting fish, but the loons! It swooped in and landed on tree stump next to the loons’ nest. One of the loons then kept screaming that eerie loon scream, scolding the eagle. They faced off for about 10 minutes. ‘Every year the loons try to lay eggs here, and every year the eagles get them,’ an observer said. The larger loon stood its ground on the nest while the other screamed at the eagle. With the loons unwilling to budge, the eagle eventually gave up and flew off. The loons won this battle, but that eagle will be back. The war will continue.”

There is good reason for the loon to be tough and non-nonsense. It is in constant competition to prove that it can survive.

Quotation adapted from July 27, 2010, posting on the St. Croix Valley, Minnesota, website: stcroixvalley.kstp.com.

Wordless Monday

In my most recent column, posted on Saturday, I wrote about the loons on a nearby mountain lake which killed an intruding loon. A reader saw the incident and sent me this email:

“We were on [the lake in late] June and saw the loons attack the lone loon. At first we thought it was a loon acting hurt to lead us away from a nest area. But I caught it on video and saw them kill the lone loon ... It was brutal and quick, the killing. They are such powerful birds. They came very close to us after the attack; it was a little unnerving.”

The Call of the Loon

Last summer, Common Loons nested for the first time ever on a small mountain lake not far from my home. The pair which claimed the lake as their own returned this year, nested and hatched a pair of chicks. They are now in the midst of the long process of raising their young: feeding them, teaching them to dive and fish and fend for themselves ... and protecting them from the dangers present even on a peaceful mountain lake.

The loon is an icon of the northern wilderness, a sign of clean water and undisturbed forest. Its song contributes to its iconic symbolism - eerie, haunting, mysterious - suggestive of unseen spirits.

A few years ago, the Common Loon was seriously endangered by development along the shores of lakes, by acid rain and industrial pollution, and even by lead sinkers from outdoor loving sport fishermen. In the mid-1980s, the number of nesting loons in Vermont was only seven pair. The Vermont Loon Recovery Project has significantly improved the status of loons in Vermont by working with citizens, hydro dam operators, lake associations, state agencies, and other conservation groups. Typically, loons do not nest until they are seven years old, so it has taken time for the project to show results. The results are being seen; since 1994, there have been 2-6 new nesting pairs in the state each year.

I sat as still as I could in my kayak, watching the loon with the two chicks, ready to move away at any sign that my presence was upsetting or disturbing to the parent. Apparently, the parent was unconcerned, for she (or maybe he) slowly came closer, occasionally dipping her head beneath the surface in search of fish, and finally diving gracefully. When she surfaced, she held a fish in her beak.

Kayaking on a summer evening with loons on the lake induces a serenity and peacefulness. But the loons themselves are not benign actors in a wilderness tableau. They can be highly aggressive toward other birds and violent should one of their own kind intrude on their territory. Last year when they nested on the lake for the first time, they drove Canada Geese off the nest site which the much larger geese had used for many years. The geese returned to nest this year, but on the occasions when I have been to the lake, the geese have kept themselves, and their young, distant from the territorial and aggressive loons.

A few weeks ago, a dead loon was found on the lake. If I have understood the reports correctly, the cause of its death was another loon, probably one of the nesting pair aggressively protecting its territorial rights on the lake.

On my first visit to the lake this summer, I spent most of my time idly watching and photographing the loon with her chicks. A few days later when we decided on an evening kayak, I intended to explore the shore and see what else there was to be seen. But as we put the kayaks into the water, the loons were calling. As though directed by mysterious, unseen spirits, I found myself watching the loon as she kept her chicks protectively close.

Even though I was some distance away, I was close enough to see that she was wary and agitated. Her eerie call carried over the quiet waters, answered by that of her mate. I moved very slowly, then began to draw away. The calling back and forth increased in frequency and intensity. A word from my more distant companion made me look up. An adult Bald Eagle flew overhead, circled above the center of the lake several times, then landed atop a white pine near the shore.

Gradually the intensity of the loon calls abated, though every few minutes one would call and the other would answer. I was seeing first hand one of those horns of dilemma for naturalists. Here were two endangered, or threatened, species, and one was a threat to the other.

A neighbor has a cabin on a lake in northern Vermont. For years the lake has hosted Common Loons. The loons have acquired a proprietary standing among the people on the lake. They are loved and protected, and regarded as fixture on the lake. And so, there was was great consternation among those lake people a few summers ago when an eagle began hunting the waters of that lake. In what must have been an unguarded moment by the loons, the eagle on that northern lake took one of the chicks.

Clearly the loons I was watching on the nearby mountain lake were upset with the presence of the eagle. When it took to the wing again, their alarm calls intensified, and the adult which had been fishing at a distance closed quickly with the other parent and the two chicks.

The eagle landed atop the pine. I left the loons in their protective circle and crossed the lake to where the eagle was perched, slowly drawing close enough to where I could begin to take photographs with my long lens. Eventually my drifting presence on the lake’s surface became too close for the eagle’s comfort, and it flew. Immediately, the loon alarm was raised and they called loudly.

The eagle disappeared into the trees on the opposite side of the lake. I tried to fix the point and began crossing the lake. When I had closed two-thirds of the distance and was in the middle of the lake, the eagle again took to the air, eventually disappearing over the horizon, perhaps headed to the peaceful fishing waters somewhere in the West River or Connecticut River valleys.

But once again, as soon as the eagle flew, the loons sounded their alarm - the eerie call repeated rapidly back and forth before echoing and re-echoing from the surrounding hills.

Soon the alarm calls quieted, and the vesper songs could be heard again ... the flutes of the Hermit Thrush, the back and forth calls of the Barred Owl ... and occasionally still, the call of the loon.

Good birding.

The Call of the Loon

We returned to the lake near our home for an evening kayak. I did not intend to photograph the loons (I did so last Saturday), but took my camera just in case. Almost in spite of myself, I was drifting near the threesome. The parent was very alert and wary, I stopped, drifted and was about to paddle away, concerned that my presence was upsetting to her. Somehow the camera was out when she began to call with that eerie loon call. A second loon returned the call, and with what seemed to be urgency, they called back and forth ...

But I was not the cause of their concern. The alarm calls were prompted by this large bird circling over the lake ...

It perched atop a white pine near the lake's edge until my drifting kayak came too close for its comfort. Then it flew across the lake, perched, and finally headed east toward the Connecticut River. Each time the Bald Eagle was on the wing, the loons called urgently and loudly, their calls echoing from the surrounding hills.

Sleep will come with the call of the loon still echoing through the mind. Good birding!

Common Loon - Up Close

Sometimes I am almost embarrassed by the avian richness around my home. For example, as posts earlier this year have shown, I have Evening Grosbeaks as a regular occurrence in my yard - so many people would travel hundreds of miles and consider themselves lucky to see one.

Saturday morning, I saw another of those special birds that many birders long to see. A few minutes from my home is a small lake that hosts  breeding Common Loons for the second year in a row. About mid-morning we put our kayaks on the lake; I went in search of the loons at the west end. I approached very slowly, pausing often. The parent was alert, but soon took my presence as benign, and went about fishing and feeding the young, and drifting to within about thirty feet of where I drifted. Using my 100-400mm, sometimes at less than full zoom, I took over 150 photos, over a period of about an hour and a half. Following are a few. The first is uncropped; others are cropped 25-50%.

Just one more clue to why I find Vermont such a special place. Hope you have a great Fourth of July, and when the picnics and fireworks are over, that you find Good Birding in abundance!