In the Right Place: R.I.P, G.B.H.

This famous Great Black Hawk that was wintering in Maine died Thursday (January 31). Here is an image of it when it was healthy on December 14, 2018:

The young male was found severely frostbitten in its claimed territory, Deer Oaks Park, Portland, Maine. It was taken to Avian Haven in Freedom, Maine, where it was determined that the raptor could not be rehabilitated for an acceptable life; it was euthanized. Here is another image taken on the same day:

Great Black Hawks are natives of Central and South America. This one’s unprecedented winter residence in Maine created a sensation among birders who travelled from many states and Canada to see and try to photograph their first GBH. (Yours Truly and FB Friend Steve Lauermann were among them.) Here’s another image taken the same day:

For more information and images of the courageous raptor, click here: http://www.5backroad.com/journal/2018/12/16/in-the-right-place-fame

January Postcards From Maine

The arrival of January is a time for happiness and hope, as neighbor Judith Fuller’s Naskeag Road banner reminded us this year.

January, on average, is Maine’s coldest and snowiest month. Not this year, however. January 2019 was warmer than average here, according to current and historical data from nearby Bar Harbor. And, it appeared that we got less snow.

Nonetheless, January 2019 was picturesque. We had several fluffy snowstorms that quilted the woods trails; it was cold enough to freeze our small streams and wet enough to make our larger, fish-migrating streams roar. The ponds froze solid and sometimes attracted winter sports fans.

The January snows, as usual, enhanced our way of seeing everyday sights, whether peering through atomized whiteness or squinting over sunny fields that made the sea seem bluer:

The relatively mild snows didn’t phase the White-Tailed Deer and Wild Turkeys, our most common wildlife; they seemed to show up on time and keep to their daily schedules:

As usual, a large “paddling” of Common Eiders wintered at nearby Blue Hill Falls, where the current prevents the water from freezing. The bronze females seemed to outnumber the white and black males this year and a not-so-common male Hooded Merganser sailed by the Eiders one day to show that they weren’t the only fashionable birds in town:

Our more mundane, year-round feathered neighbors — Herring Gulls and American Crows —generally sat, flew, and swaggered with aplomb through cold January days:

As usual, the sea had many moods this January. We had some extraordinary high and low tides and racing winds. These elements, when combined with very cold days, are a recipe for sea ice. In its early stages, sea ice has a slushy consistency; it rolls onto the shore like a milk shake. This kind of sea turmoil can bring jewelry-grade sea glass to sandbars and shorelines, where cold-resistant collectors search for good pieces.

Many of the lobster boats in this area came ashore for winter storage in November. But, some stayed in the water and had a winter metamorphosis — they sprouted wings in the form of booms and masts that converted them into trawlers that dredged for Atlantic Scallops.

Finally, January days often say goodbye in the most extravagant ways, leaving us an ephemeral work of art to remember them by:

(All images taken in January 2019 in Down East Maine.)

In the Right Place: Rinks

The melting snow, several rain storms, and a resurgence of cold weather here have turned large coastal streams into torrents and caused small woods’ streams to overflow their mossy banks and form ice rinks for the deer. This image shows the mouth of Patten Stream emptying into Patten Bay at high tide last week:

The image below, also taken last week, shows what a small Brooklin stream can do to the woods in winter:

You better have cleats on to walk our woods in January. (Surry and Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Winners

What the HELL is that doing in my house?! This is Bianca’s first reaction to her new puppy sister when we arrived home with Olive on Saturday (January 26).

The two of them mostly ignore each other now, but usually are civil when their paths cross – like two pre-Trump election candidates who are disdainfully polite to their unworthy opponent. After all, Bianca and Olive attended the same boarding school: the Hancock County SPCA. We’re hoping that they soon will realize that they’re both winners and become warm companions. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Goodbye

This is the afterglow from last night’s sunset over Great Cove: a passionate goodbye from a beautiful day.

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Etiquette

The “Eider Frenzy” below happened yesterday at Blue Hill Falls. When a danger signal is given, the Eiders swarm out to deeper water, churning the Bay into a frothy mist as they go. Perhaps it’s a way of making it difficult for eagles or hunters to get a bead on an individual bird.

Hundreds of Common Eiders, our largest native ducks, spend their winters in a closely-huddled “paddling” in Blue Hill Bay near the Falls. The swift current there prevents freezing and the shallow water allows easy access to tasty mollusks and crustaceans.

When not panicked, the attractiveness of these big-nosed birds is apparent: the males flash patches of black and white and the females ripple with rings of bronze:

They’re strong flyers and can attain speeds of up to 70 miles per hour.

They’re not so pretty when they eat, though. They gulp and gorge on mussels and clams, swallowing them whole. With large crabs, they sometimes remove the claws and legs before swallowing the live body whole. Don’t invite one to dinner. (Blue Hill, Maine) [Some images taken prior to yesterday.]

In the Right Place: Fudging

This is Olive, Brooklin’s newest resident. We picked her up yesterday from the Hancock County SPCA.

She's 10 weeks old and part hound of some unknown type. What her other parts are, no one knows. But, considering her disposition, we suspect that she’s at least 10 percent chocolate fudge cake..

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Obviously

Meet The Boss. He runs our Crow Mob. His style is to call a Family meeting on the snow and strut confidently while cursing his Cappos foully. For obvious reasons, he prefers that we not reveal his full identity.

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Maine Gothic

The vacant house on Harbor Island is a resolute witness to the winter’s work in Naskeag Harbor. Here, we see it watching an 18-mile-per-hour wind gust perform a contradictory feat – while whipping part of the Harbor into white caps, it propels a flow of ice slush that calms its part of the turmoil as it slides through.

The house is one of many summer residences built on privately-owned Maine islands. The Gulf of Maine reportedly contains 4,600 islands, which is more than all the islands of the other east coast states combined. There are at least 15 unbridged Maine islands with year-round human populations; on some islands, sheep are the only full-time residents, and – fortunately – Maine islands increasingly are being put in trust as nature preserves.

All these islands were public, open-access lands before Maine was lopped off Massachusetts as the 23rd state by the Missouri Compromise of 1820. As part of Maine’s scramble to become a self-sufficient state, it auctioned many of its islands to interested persons.

Here’s another look at the Harbor Island house, this time in summer:

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Guts

It’s hard not to worry about the White-Tailed Deer, when we see them pawing and nosing through icy snow, as this doe was doing early yesterday:

But, we must resist the natural urge to feed them, the State of Maine warns. In addition to growing a heavy winter coat, these deer develop a winter stomach, which contains microorganisms that are different from the ones helping digestion during the rest of the year.

Their winter guts allow and encourage these animals to eat twigs and other “woody browse,” which is converted to protein by their cold-weather digestion chemistry. It also makes it more difficult for them to metabolize some foods that they usually eat in spring, summer, and fall, among other problems. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Seashakes

It was cold yesterday: well-below freezing cold. It also was windy: well-above10-miles-per-hour windy. That means sea ice trying to form while waves crash onto the shore, which is the recipe for “seashakes” – waves and currents with the slushy consistency of a milkshake.

Their rolling semi-liquid forms are endlessly fascinating.

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Stomp & Circumstance

We’re looking at Babson Island trying to shelter Great Cove from the arctic winds this morning. It was (and is) brain-piercingly cold: 4 degrees (F) and wind gusts of 18 miles per hour that create a wind chill of minus 8 degrees.

Yesterday, there was no evidence of traffic (other than deer) on some of the prettier local lanes; many neighbors apparently are just hunkering for a while:

Winter Storm Harper’s snow shroud has about a one-inch ice cap, which makes it slippery to ski and body-wrenching to walk – you must stomp to get through the ice and pull your boot out of the underlying snow’s clutches. We may try snow shoes, if it warms up. It’s especially difficult to explore the internal woods now, but we did a little:

Familiar sights, such as sawed tree sections and foot paths over woods’ streams, have acquired a white patina:

The Camperdown Elm still presides in dignity in the Brooklin Cemetery, its angular architecture bowing in silence:

The Town Dock is piled with snow and festooned with ice, yet some of our hardy fishermen still go out:

For some neighbors, it’s a time to stick your head under your wing and dream about summer:

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Hunkered

What a difference a day makes. Harper arrived last night and we awoke to these views. So far, she seems to be a dreary, but diligent, winter storm – a steady spritz of small snowflakes that have huddled to a depth of about six inches on our decks as of this writing.

The change from yesterday is striking. Yesterday was an eye-squinting sunny and crisp prelude – a time for young and old to get out there, maybe play a little freestyle hockey on a local pond. See image in first Comment space.

Today is a time for Wild Turkeys to struggle and us to hunker down, maybe watch a little football.

(Brooklin, Maine) Go Pats!

In the Right Place: Plan Be

The weather tellers now warn us that Harper, the biggest Winter Storm yet, will visit us with heavy snow tonight, which will continue into Sunday until it turns to freezing rain.

This has forced us into Code White:

(1) early today, we checked the propane tank and generator oil levels and made sure we’re good to go electricity-wise;

(2) this afternoon, we’ll go to the supermarket for a week’s worth of basic groceries and de-icer pellets, plus the weekend essentials –wine, beer, and snacks;

(3) Sunday morning, clear the walkway and make sure that the driveway markers are obvious for the plow truck’s first of what may be several runs;

(4) Sunday afternoon,  build a fire, get out the beverages and snacks, and watch the Rams and the Saints go at it in the sultry South while freezing rain sheets down here;

(5) Sunday evening, eat an appropriate dinner (hot dogs and beans?) while watching the underdog Patriots surprise the Chiefs;

(6) to bed soon after, so that we can try to sneak in an early Monday walk in the silent, snowy woods, where we’ll regain sanity and resume wondering what it’s all about.

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Insensitive

The January weather here can be frightful, but our Bald Eagle winter residents don’t seem to mind; they’re built for it. Their skin is protected by feathers lined with down and their external parts have a winter-proof design that reduces the need for blood flow and has few nerves.

As with most fish-hunting raptors, their powerful lower legs and feet are scaled and consist mostly of tendons; there are no leg-covering feathers to get cold, wet, and bloody. Their toes are padded with Velcro®-like spicules to help keep slippery fish in place.

Their dig-and-rip beaks and their hold-and-kill claws are made primarily of insensitive keratin protein (think fingernails). See also the image in the first Comment space. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Whoops

While countless frogs, salamanders, and turtles lie in suspended animation in the ground below, the bogs continue to collect water that freezes solid in winter – layer upon layer of slippery ice buildup.

We saw a doe slip and nearly fall yesterday near this spot; she pranced off with an embarrassed look on her face. Memo to self: order boot cleats.

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Spitters

The intriguing architecture of ancient apple trees is best seen in winter. Many of these now-abandoned trees were planted here over 100 years ago in groups of four or five for easier picking. Some of these tree groupings, with twisted trunks and leafless, angled limbs swaying, appear as arboreal stringed quartets and quintets in perfect harmony.

We suspect that virtually all the old apple trees around here were planted to produce hard cider and applejack liquor. Their apples are extremely tart – what some call “spitters” in memory of what they did after their first bite. In days of yore in rural areas, cider often was preferred over coffee and tea (because water in those drinks frequently got contaminated) and even more popular than beer and wine (because cider was less expensive). (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Hoodies

We seem to be seeing more Hooded Mergansers this winter. These shy fishing ducks are the smallest and oddest of our three types of American merganser.

They appear to erect their proportionately massive hoods (crests, really) not only when excited, but just when they feel like it – sort of a flexing move, it appears. This flex makes their heads weirdly tomahawk-shaped.

The dark-eyed and grayish female often has a coffee-with-cream color crest that usually is not as fulsome as the male’s.

The flexing effect is more spectacular on the male because his hood is mostly white on a black head and he has yellow-orange eyes. When his crest is down, it’s just a white racing stripe. y

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Eager

Here we have several of the vessels in our Naskeag Harbor scalloping fleet taking Saturday off.

That day (January 12) was one of the many days closed to scallop fishing to conserve the State’s precious mollusks during the long December-April fishing season.

Although at rest, these trawler-rigged vessels look eager to get back out there.

 (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Clarity

January, the first month after the Winter Solstice, is a time when we enjoy many clear days and nights – times to see farther out into our island-studded seas and sequined skies. It’s also our coldest month, which is one reason for the increased clarity: cold air can’t hold as much obscuring moisture as warm air and, in combination with the increasing (but still low) sunlight, colors are made richer, especially sea blues and greens.

The image above is of our sunset here on Friday (January 11); it was just marginally better than last night’s sunset. (Brooklin, Maine) Go Pats!