In the Right Place: Rustler

This Weeping Beech (Fagus sylvatica 'Pendula') at Amen Farm is one of the world’s more unusual types of tree. Its family name is derived from its most noticeable characteristic: pendulous branches. These trees can grow to more than 80 feet in height and often are wider than they are high. They were selectively bred from European Beeches in England in 1836 and were introduced into the United States in 1847.

Beeches don’t lose all of their leaves in the fall or winter (a phenomenon called “marcescence”); most of the leaves dry out and hang on tightly to sing a rustling chorus to the winter winds. The Beech leaves drop when new growth is ready to appear in the Spring. Click on image to enlarge it. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Surveilance Update

The three male Wood Ducks that have been in our local marsh pond this summer were joined by a female last week. All four were convoying together yesterday.

Their feathers have grown back from the summer molt, which makes the stark difference between the sexes quite apparent. The red-eyed males look like they’re coming home late, still in their Mardi Gras costumes:

The females look like they’re attending a business conference, where their subdued suits are offset by sexy Cleopatra eye makeup.

These birds likely will migrate soon, pair in the winter, and mate in early spring. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Frenzies

We had high winds and sun-streaked white caps in Great Cove several times last week. During such days, it’s thrilling to stand in the shallows as the fast-moving tide surges in around your knee-high boots.

This is island-protected water; the waves are not huge, but they’re energetic, numerous, and mesmerizing. Some keep their motor running right up until they hit a rocky part of the shore with a loud “SMACK!”, ending their frenzy in thousands of sparkling pieces.

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Security Check

This is a Brooklin version of a double-latched-lock. It’s on a local boathouse that we photograph each year as a small part of our investigation to determine whether the public paranoia that we see elsewhere has reached here yet. It has not, as of 2018.

This high-security lock consists of two independently-operated parts: First, there is the plunger-latch artfully spliced into a nice white rope. That’s notice to all that they should not remove the rope and enter, unless they have a legitimate reason to do so. Second, there’s the eye-catching red handle and thumb-latch to allow easy entry for those with a legitimate reason to enter.

Padlocks are not common here and car keys often are left in the car. In general, we worry more about illegal entry by skunks and squirrels than by humans. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Healthy Habits

Yesterday, I was behind the camera in a grassy embankment on Great Cove. I was completely concentrated on an incoming, but dithering, Loon that I wanted to swim 50 feet closer – a “come on-come-come on-come on” moment. Out of the corner of my left eye, I glimpsed a strangely-shaped shadow move and then stop – a big enough and near enough shadow to give me the involuntary creeps. I slowly swung the lens around. It was a yearling White-Tailed Doe.

She was partly up the bank, “hiding” behind some branches, but watching me at full alert. She apparently couldn’t figure out what she was looking at: a hunched-up shape over a monopod-mounted, long-lensed thing that “Clicked” every now and then. Neither one of us moved for the minute-long staring contest. She finally backed down to the beach and turned toward me for an unobstructed look. “Click.”

She then realized what she was looking at and was gone. So was the Loon. However, maybe the yearling now realizes that curiosity is not a healthy habit for a deer. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Balancing Act

This fisherman’s bullet buoy evokes a complex dilemma. The buoy apparently broke away from its lobster trap line before we found it on Great Cove’s shore last week. There seems to be more of this plastic foam flotsam washing up there since the federal Atlantic Large Whale Take Reduction Plan was implemented.

That evolving Plan is intended to reduce the number of appalling injuries and deaths associated with large whales being entangled in fishing gear. One of the Plan’s options is that lobster trap buoys be attached to their lines with a “weak link” (e.g., a swivel) that has a breaking strength of no greater than 600 pounds. These and other Plan requirements seem to have resulted in increased losses of lobster gear, which has unintended negative effects on both the environment and fishermen’s livelihoods. Striking the needed balance appears to be proving difficult. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Magic

Here, we’re on Amen Farm ridge looking East. It’s a sparkling Noon on Thursday, October 18. The temperature is a reported 45 degrees (F), with wind gusts of nearly 15 miles-per-hour. We’re not dressed for this; but, it’s worth a few shivers.

Looming large across Blue Hill Bay is Acadia National Park, rising out of Mount Desert Island like a green whale. We can see the Park’s highest point, Cadillac Mountain, which is one of three places in Maine that are claimed to be where the sun first touches the United States in the morning. Now, the wind is throwing pillows of cumulus humis clouds at the Mountain.

If we had magic glasses that could see all the way east behind the Mountain, along our 44th Parallel, we’d see the much warmer coast of southern France. It would be six hours later there: time to relax at a café, sip a Pernod, and talk about beautiful places we have known. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Sticking Around

We’re still seeing Northern Flickers here, even during freeze snaps. It makes us wonder when and if they’ll migrate..

There still are a few insects plodding about for these woodpeckers to peck and pull and their diet also includes nuts and seeds. Our non-migrating woodpeckers (mostly Pileated, Hairy, and Downy Woodpeckers) manage to find frozen larvae and other winter food, including suet and seed offered at bird feeders.

Maybe Climate Change is gifting us another cackling winter bird. The Flicker shown here is a female; the male looks the same, except he sports a red mustache. (Brooklin, Maine) Go Sox! Go Pats!

In the Right Place: Only the Lonely

Here we have Lucille alone in Great Cove yesterday, shivering in a 15-mile-per-hour wind.

She soon will be sheltered “on the hard.” When that happens, the Cove will be free of boats, except for a few passing-through fishing vessels and perhaps a local skiff or two.

This transformation has been in progress since the last sailboat left earlier in the month: Loons and winter ducks are moving in; increasing numbers of animal tracks are appearing along the shore, and the sun is lower and more southerly to us. Soon, there will be red and gold sunsets reflected in the all-natural Cove. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Diversity

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Local Fall Color

This year’s Fall colors were better than average, but might have been even more beautiful if they had been allowed to peak in full. Last night, we had howling winds and driving rain that orphaned many a colorful leaf; the high winds continue today to liberate the leaves and give them wild, final flights. Fortunately, we were out and about Sunday (October 14), a beautiful day during which most of the images below were taken.

One of our first stops, as usual, was the outstanding Maple at the North Sedgwick Baptist Church. This monarch will not be producing much shade when those leaves fall:

Some Maples still have not turned completely; some wild (abandoned) Apple Trees have lost all their leaves and now look like a jewelry display:

Of course, the best places for diverse and dramatic color locally are in the dark red native Blueberry fields and along their edges:

The ornamental non-native bushes and grasses planted for their Fall effect also are spectacular, especially Burning Bush and Japanese Silver Grass:

Along many country roads, there are spots where cars and trucks just stop suddenly as their drivers take time to visually digest a specimen tree in a showcase setting. Here we have a golden Sugar Maple, looking over the shoulders of a magenta Burning Bush, framed by an arch of still-green Oak leaves:

The beauty can get quite thorny for those who like to get out and into it. Here we have Cotoneaster, Asian Bittersweet, Wild Blackberry leaves (the berries long gone), and Barberry:

Some of the beauty is found in humble field ponds, reflected in ways that would have made Monet say, “Quick, my brushes!”:

Magical change continues in the garden. The Katsura Tree leaves become banana chips; the Viburnum bushes turn into wine, and the Hydrangea Trees offer cotton candy:

In the woods, the Cinnamon Fern has been bronzed and is now in the process of sculpting itself into its own memorial, while the Red Maples turn into embers that fly away:

A very few plants don’t shrivel and disappear in October, including large Montauk (Fall) Daisies and small Asters, which bloom through cold snaps:

Not all of the October beauty is in the month’s bright colors. Fall rains swell our woods streams, which become mossy-banked canals for leafy gondolas:

(All images taken in Brooklin, Blue Hill, and North Sedgwick, Maine)

For larger versions of the above images, as well as many additional images, click on the link below. (We recommend that your initial viewing be in full-screen mode, which can be achieved by clicking on the Slideshow [>] icon above the featured image in the gallery to which the link will take you.) Here’s the link for more:

https://leightons.smugmug.com/US-States/Maine/Out/2018-in-Maine/October-Colors/






Fall

In the Right Place: Silly

This cute guy is a little more than seven inches long and we’re a bit worried about him (sex assumed).

He’s been here alone for almost a week, and it’s not usual for small Sandpipers to be alone. He’s also been hunting a quickly-disappearing live food supply along Great Cove’s pebbly shore. He can fly well, but doesn’t seem to be inclined to take a trip south. The days are getting colder, but he doesn’t seem to be getting the message.

Do you know which Piper he is? We weren’t sure and had to call in one of Brooklin’s black-belt birders, Kim Ridley, for help. If this were a Wheel of Fortune game and the board showed S_ _ _ _ _ D, what letters would you pick? Yes, he’s a Spotted Sandpiper without spots – a silly juvenile in fall plumage.

Thanks, Kim. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Swamping Out

We had a Witches’ Sky last night, after a rainy day. The sunset afterglow turned from dusky orange to frisky pink with a patch or two of blue.

We saw a throng of witches practicing close-flight maneuvers in preparation for their show at the end of the month; they were very good – like a formation of migrating geese, even.

It all was part of a swamping-out process that eventually resulted in a clear, starry night with a crescent moon, followed by today’s beautiful morning. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Out of Control

Asiatic Bittersweet (Celastrus orbiculatus) is a silent assassin, albeit a beautiful one. This invasive, non-native killer is forming much of the yellow that we see in our trees now.

Those trees are its victims; they’re helpless as the Bittersweet squeezes them to death, winding its way like a python up toward the light. Even mighty spruce trees are being victimized.

The State of Maine has acknowledged that this nuisance is too far-gone to be eradicated; it grows too fast and is propagated too widely by birds that eat its beautiful berries.

But, the State has listed it as an invasive species that may not be sold or distributed here. There is a native version, aptly named American Bittersweet (Celastrus scandens), that is environmentally innocuous. But, that’s another story. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Sticky Business

It’s dinner time, but first we look out the window with a bit of anxiety to see if he’s back. He is! We’ve run him off three evenings in a row, but there he is again. We grab the broom and open the door loudly. He looks up and hunkers down into his Buddha pose, waiting to see what we’ll do.  He’s wild, but not fearful; he’s armed, but not aggressive. He’s a dilemma. He apparently thinks he’s our “Spiny Pig,” which is English for “Porcupine.”

We run at him shouting and waving the broom. He slowly gets on all fours and raises his quilled tail straight into the air – a defensive posture that reminds us not to get close. He turns and walks off in slow, waddling dignity. Perhaps he senses our profound weakness when he sees a broom instead of a rifle.

Porcupines can do considerable damage to trees and we’re not aware of any benefit that they confer on the world, except perhaps as a delicacy for large weasels. The State of Maine, a tree-conscious place, seems to be without much sympathy for Porcupines. Under our regulations, Porcupines are considered numerous and may be taken by licensed hunters in any way, at any time, in any number, except on Sundays or someone else’s posted property.

Nonetheless, there is the view that Porcupines were here before property rights and are part of a complex natural system that we humans invaded and don’t fully understand. And, there is this: sometimes they’re cute. But, not often. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Change

Great Cove seemed to be taking a deep breath yesterday. The sailboats and pier floats are now gone, and the winter birds are starting to come back into these protected waters.

We sighted three Loons and seven Common Eiders arriving to join the resident Gulls and Crows. There will be many more winged visitors when the word gets out that the Cove has gone wild again.

On the shore, the mooring gear for the WoodenBoat School’s fleet has been returned to its sylvan hideout, where it has become a crop of rope and chain vines and plastic fallen fruit.

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Rest in Peace

It’s been a soft, slow Autumn here so far. There’s been no significant freeze, windstorm, or hard-driving rain. Yet. Slow Autumns seem to hold onto some of Summer’s vibrant greens longer and provide fascinating Summer-Fall collages, such as lush little ferns growing out of vibrant green mosses that are the final resting places for the earliest of fallen red maple leaves.

Nearby, many large Cinnamon Ferns already have turned into bronze, which is their way of saying goodbye. Soft and slow is good.

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Hot Topic

It’s time to cut and split (or order) the Winter wood supply for heating stoves here. Wood stoves were Maine’s principal heating source in the 1950s and they still are a frequent supplementary source.

There’s been a reported resurgence in firewood and wood pellet use here lately as fuel oil prices fluctuate, more efficient wood stoves come on the market, and environmental concerns heighten.

As for the environment, Maine government officials report that wood emits carbon dioxide at the rate of just 7 kg/million BTUs, while fuel oil emits 79 kg/million BTUs.

Carbon dioxide released from the combustion or decay of woody biomass is part of a natural wood replacement cycle that does not increase the amount of carbon in circulation, while that from fossil fuels does, according to Dr. Robert Rice of the University of Maine. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Irresistibility

These images were taken yesterday, when curiosity made us follow an old deer path that was new to us. We ducked and weaved through brambles and bittersweet-strewn shrubs and trees. Then, we suddenly were under the lichen-laced limbs of several “wild” (long-abandoned) apple trees that must have been more than 100 years old.

Many of the apples were nearly perfect and most were still tightly-screwed onto their gnarled branches. There were ground signs of deer and raccoon or coyote. This almost inaccessible apple tree temple is on posted (no hunting) land, which contributed to a sense that we were standing where no human had stood in many decades.

We wrested an apple away from its mother tree and took a bite. Maybe it was the solitary time and place and the chilly, woods-scented air, but that apple’s extraordinary deliciousness evoked childhood imaginings of Adam confronting irresistibility in paradise. See also the image in the first Comment space. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Interim Report

Peak Fall colors aren’t predicted for Down East Maine until the week of October 15-20. But, they’re on the way, as you can see from this image, taken yesterday, of the magnificent Maple in front of the North Sedgwick Baptist Church.

The more exotic grasses also are taking on their autumnal gold and silver beauty and can be breathtaking when they form a balletic chorus that sways in the wind. Here’s a stand of Japanese Silver Grass doing that:

The large blossoms on Hydrangea Trees also are turning that unigue pink-brown hue that they assume just before they drop:

(Brooklin, Maine)