In the Right Place: Speedster

In the Right Place: Speedster

Below is a female Merganser patrolling Patten Bay earlier this week. Judging from her hairdo and lipstick, we think that she’s a Red-Breasted Merganser, but she has traits of a Common Merganser. (She’s not a Hooded Merganser, the third type of this family.)

“Merganser” means “plunging goose,” according to its Latin roots. These birds plunge to 15 feet deep in the water in search of fish, their favorite food, but they’ll eat mussels, crabs, tadpoles, frogs, and salamanders in season. Mergansers also are called “sawbills,” due to their thin, serrated beaks that help them hold slippery prey. The Red-Breasted Merganser holds the record for fastest flying duck: 100 miles per hour, well ahead of second place Mallards that can reach 72. (Surry, Maine)

In the Right Place: Sprinkle

We awoke this morning to a landscape that had been lightly sprinkled with snow last night, just enough to brighten things up and make the early morning deer more discernible.

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Disgorgement

Here’s Patten Stream, disgorging our snow-melt into Patten Bay on Sunday, February 3:

We’re in a warm phase again; it’s quickly thawing the most recent snow and ice that was created during our last freezing phase. This temperature back-and-forth is not good: tree and bush juices get confused, small mammal snow tunnels disappear, hibernating animals stir and even awaken, and septic systems solidify when the cold returns to freeze the ground that is no longer insulated by snow.  But, the melt has made some of our streams magnificent. Here’s Patten Stream again:

(Surry, Maine)

In the Right Place: Softness

A fog-like haze came in from the open sea at sunset yesterday to paint Great Cove and Eggemoggin Reach in nocturnal pastels, a shadowy softness before the night.

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: In & Out

Inside, looking out from her pedestal at the window, our tropical Hibiscus has now gifted us with three dessert-plate-sized flowers this winter, and it appears that there are more to come. She loves snow and cold – if it can be admired through a window.

Outside, looking in from under their deer netting, our ice-encased Rhododendrons stoically sleep soundly. They’ll awaken and present their gifts in the spring.

(Brooklin, Maine) Congratulations, Champs! (Phew – what an ugly tug-of-war.)

In the Right Place: Super!

We hope that all our football fan friends enjoy Super Bowl LIII. Neighbor Judith Fuller’s Naskeag Road banner is flying high as we speak, indicating the choice of most of us around here. 

Go Pats! (Brooklin, Maine)

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)