In the Right Place: Good Vibrations

Here we have a Northern River Otter cavorting yesterday in the large marsh pond on Wooden Boat’s campus.

It’s a good sign for us, since these large weasels will not inhabit polluted areas.

Northern River Otters, which also commonly inhabit lakes and ponds, are specially adapted for hunting and playing in water: webbed paws; powerful undulating tails; ears and noses that can be sealed shut; unusual lungs that allow submersion for up to eight minutes; eyes that can see through dark water, and whiskers that sense vibrations caused by underwater prey. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Coming and Going

Here are the incoming tide swells being chased by wind gusts in Great Cove. Our November high tides have ranged from about 10 to 12 feet, according to National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration data.

Thus, basically, if you stuck a six-foot measuring post into the low tide line, the top of the post would be under four to six feet of water in less than six hours. Of course, posts and/or sliding floats are no longer used to officially measure the tides.

NOAA uses sophisticated acoustical and electronic equipment to record tide heights along the coast, including Brooklin’s Center Harbor. Basically, the equipment sends signals continuously down a sounding tube that is within a protective pipe in the water; the time that it takes for the signal’s reflected sound to travel back and be received on the water surface is measured and converted into streaming linear data. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Dee-lights

Our Black-Capped Chickadees are starting to hoard food for the winter, when they will consume up to 10 times what they consume in summer.

There are seven native Chickadee species in North America, but the Black-Capped is our most common as well as our State Bird.

All Chickadees get their last name from their usual call: “Chicka-Dee,” which they vary based on circumstance. “Chicka-Dee” and “Chicka-Dee-Dee” usually mean they’re happy. The more “Dees” at the end, the more worried the birds are. Usually, the addition of five or more such suffixes (“Chicka-Dee-Dee-Dee- Dee- Dee!“) means that the bird is frantic due to the approach of a predator, such as a cat or a bird hawk. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Sweet

We’ve had a couple of good rains this month, enough to revive some of the mossy spring-fed streams in our woods from bone dry to chortling streamlets. November is averaging about half the precipitation we historically get and our summer and fall also were dryer than usual.

The resurgence of the springs hidden in the woods relieves a strain on thirsty animals that want a sweet drink during the day without too much exposure. This is especially true for the deer, which seem to realize they’re being hunted now. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Pardon the Irruption

All the conditions are right this 2017-18 winter for another Snowy Owl irruption in which many of these birds will leave Arctic Canada and take a winter vacation in the United States. That’s according to a recent report by Project Snowstorm, a Snowy research and monitoring organization in Canada.

Basically, the lemming population is surging in Canada, as it does about every four years. This plentiful source of rodents results in nesting Snowies producing more surviving owlets than there are hunting territories available for the youngsters up there. The homeless birds come south and the first stop for many of them is Maine.

This young male Snowy took up residence at nearby Trenton (aka Bar Harbor) Airport during the last irruption in the winter of 2014-15. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Celebrations

We have much to be thankful for. Some we’ll celebrate with silent awe; some we’ll celebrate with affection toward others. We hope that you also have much to celebrate.

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: A Matter of Taste

This Oriental Bittersweet is a reminder of the dangers of basing a relationship on the impulsive pursuit of physical beauty. It’s an Asian plant that was introduced here in the 19th Century to bring spectacular fall colors to gray winter landscapes. Then, it started taking over those landscapes, killing our native American Bittersweet, trees, and other plants by squeezing and/or shading them to death.

The bark of Oriental and American Bittersweet is initially sweet to the taste, but then turns bitter and may cause nausea or worse side-effects; hence their common last name. On the positive side, Oriental Bittersweet feeds birds and is good material for winter wreathes. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: It's Time

This is Brooklin’s Judith Ann powering into Naskeag Harbor yesterday with a full load of her recently-hoisted lobster traps. She’s the latest of many local fishing boats that will end their lobster season in November.

But, not all fishermen will be leaving the water this winter. Some will continue lobstering. Some will turn to dredging scallops soon. Others will don SCUBA equipment and dive in the cold waters to hand-harvest the choice diver scallops, which we and other neighbors will buy by the gallon. They’re beyond delicious! (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: On the Trail

The trunks of tall trees dominate the early winter woods: gray pillars of spruce, fir, and pine.

The understory shrubs and ferns no longer obscure sight; we can walk among the pillars with a vivid sense of three dimensionality.

Also gone are the high maple and birch leaves, their loss leaving jagged holes in the canopy. Sunlight sneaks through the new openings in splashes and slices. It’s silent; the air is pure, and it's the right kind of cold. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: The Faithful

Consistent with the times, we’ve got a lot of swell-headed males around here. Fortunately, ours are Bufflehead Ducks that are arriving from Canada for their winter vacations. Their name is shorthand for “buffalo-headed,” a reference to what many call the American Bison.

The darker females also have disproportionately large heads, but their heads are not as disproportionate as those of the males and are all black except for a white cheek spot.

These tiny (14-inch) birds are unique among sea ducks: they not only nest in tree holes created by large woodpeckers (Northern Flickers and Pileated Woodpeckers), they’re monogamous for years at a time. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Dancing

We’re watching yesterday morning’s nor’wester sweeping down Eggemoggin Reach and charging into Great Cove.

 Its winds are gusting up to 30 miles per hour, which is not a worrisome event, unless you’re an inexperienced sailor in a small boat without a life jacket. Such winds make our usually lazy waters get up and line dance.

In nearby Naskeag Harbor, fishing boats bucked and pulled at their moorings while sea gulls hunkered down and faced into the wind.

In natural coves and man-made harbors, the entering trains of ocean waves are forced by the land’s shape and shallower water to bend (“refract’) and fan out toward the shore in fascinating whitecap (“spilling wave”) patterns.

There are extraordinarily complex phenomena going on here. For those interested in finding out what they are, we recommend How to Read Water by Tristan Gooley (The Experiment, LLC, 2016). (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Preciousness

Some artists – Monet, Turner, and Church come easily to mind – have gotten close to communicating the preciousness of ever-changing evening light on familiar waters. But no one really can capture such a moment and give it to another.

This image of Great Cove Monday evening is trifling compared to being there and seeing the sea turn psychedelic lavender before going dark.  (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Tenacity

We continue to be amazed at the tenacity of some of the wild apple trees (green- and red-fruited) and crabapple trees (red-fruited) around here.

The above Jackson-Pollock-like image was taken yesterday of fruit-bearing but leafless crabapple branches hanging over the edge of Great Cove’s shore line. A nearby green apple tree was equally tenacious:

That is, there is nothing between these red and green apples and the prevailing, often powerful sea winds. More significantly, there was nothing between them and the superstorm at the end of October in which gusts coming off the ocean there exceeded 70 miles per hour and torrents of driving rain pounded the coast.

These tough trees could teach NFL running backs some lessons about holding on. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Shamelessness

Meet Bianca, our hairy, all-white, fat, blue-eyed, six-year-old, constantly surprising, mostly Maine Coon, indoor cat.

Before we met her, she was a barn cat, a profession at which she did not succeed. We met her at the Hancock County Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, when she was named Sissy. She was alone in a cage there because she had a “trait”: she hated cats. We had to promise not to get a cat when we got Sissy.

Soon after we changed her name to Bianca (Italian for white), we learned that she had another trait: she thought that she was a dog. She follows us from room to room, keeps putting her head in our hand to be rubbed, and excitedly greets visitors at the door. She also often sleeps or rests on her back shamelessly (but trustfully) splayed with all four legs up. She frequently does this in her spot on the bed, forcing us to pick her purring heftiness up to make the bed.

When not splayed, Bianca can be stunning.

Fortunately, she’s not aware of that. Yet. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Change

There are signs that our faux winter is over and the real thing has started creeping up on us. The first harbingers are the marsh ponds that freeze.

These are the ultimate reminders for procrastinating Wood Ducks and other migrating waterfowl to get their act together and fly south.

Most of our Loons and other over-wintering waterfowl seem to have completed the shift of their operations from ponds and lakes to the ocean. At the edges of the ocean, sea ice is starting to appear in the pockets that receive the least sun.

It’s time for wildlife (and us) to begin adjusting for the most pervasive seasonal change of the year. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Delights and Warnings

This is the sky over Great Cove and our dark North Field last night, as the sun sets in the west and the temperatures fall.

This is of the same area this morning, as the sun rises in the east to meet the frosted field and islands.

Once again, the mariner’s mnemonic was right:

          Red sky at night, sailors’ delight,

          Red sky at morning, sailors take warning.

This couplet usually proves true for the middle latitudes, meteorologists say. Red sky in the evening often means that the reflected sunlight is coming unobstructed from the west, where the prevailing winds bring weather.

On the other hand, if morning skies are reddish, it’s likely that moisture-laden clouds are reflecting light from the sunrise in the east. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Full Service

It’s time to consider the year-long beauty of a native tree  and the reasons that it has two strange names: the Shadblow Tree (or Bush), also frequently called the Serviceberry Tree (or Bush).

In spring, the tree’s branches are covered with bright white flowers.

In summer, its red, pink, and purple berries add drama (and, are delicious fresh or baked in a pie).

In fall and early winter – now – the tops of its leaves turn red with yellowish ribs and veins, while their undersides reverse the striking color combination.

In winter, the tree’s sinewy multi-trunked form is an architectonic delight, especially when casting shadows on snow.

It was named a Shadblow Tree because it flowers when the shad run in the northeast. It was named a Serviceberry Tree because it flowers when the northeastern ground thawed enough to bury dead colonists in a service that included the tree’s blossoms.

By the way, the Journals of Lewis and Clark report that Serviceberries saved their lives when other food was not available. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: The Season

It’s now deer hunting season, but this White-Tailed doe and her fawn still use a trail that they’ve been using since spring. (I was crouched downwind and they didn’t sense me until the camera clicked and they turned toward me for this second click. They immediately disappeared, flashing their white tails.)

These and other “Anterless Deer” may not be hunted in Maine without a special permit. Other deer may be hunted here with bows and arrows, crossbows, modern firearms, or antique muzzleloaders. But the hunting restrictions vary by district and year.

Hunting is prohibited under any circumstance on posted private land. Deer hunting is prohibited in some large communities, such as on nearby Mount Desert Island, where Bar Harbor is located. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Secrets

In the summer, when gazing at the distant woods, it’s hard to tell the thin and wiry Tamarack Trees from their sturdier neighbors, the Spruces and Balsam Firs. All are a mass of green-needled branches. But at this time of year, the Tamaracks confess their secret: their needled branches flare into yellow incandescence and then the needles let go and drop like sprinkles of gold.

These trees are different; they’re not really evergreen, they’re “deciduous” To be sure, they produce and drop cones, as do Spruce and Fir, (they’re “coniferous”), but each Tamarack produces both male and female cones (they’re also “monoecious”).

“Tamarack,” seemingly the most-used common name for the tree, is the Algonquin Tribe’s name for “snowshoe wood.” Nonetheless, the tree also is called a Larch or Hackmatack by many. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Deep Breath Time

It took a while, but we think that November finally arrived here with this sunset last night. The air was clear and sharp; the sky rolled away on waves of blue, burnt orange, and lemon; Great Cove and Eggemoggin Reach turned metallic, while the light on the island and shore trees slowly dimmed into rich blackness.

And, we slept under two blankets. (Brooklin, Maine)