In the Right Place: Screaming

We’re seeing Blue Jays congregate in groups here, probably for protection (more eyes and ears) from raptors that can see them better now that the leaves are down.

These bright birds have their own trick to take advantage of other birds, especially near feeders. They first try to swarm competitors. If that doesn’t work (and it usually doesn’t with Northern Cardinals), they do a very good imitation of a Broad Wing Hawk scream.

That usually clears the area, even though Broad Wings have migrated south. (Brooklin, Maine; Leighton Archive images)

In the Right Place: Clapped Traps

These lobster traps were stacked in Naskeag Harbor's shallows before yesterday’s storm here, ready to be piled on a trailer at low tide and carried away for winter storage.

Then, the storm came with 43-mile-per-hour gustsand produced this sight yesterday afternoon:

(The storm-scattered traps had been picked up by this morning.)

Usually, there is no problem with leaving traps on the beach; they should stay in place due to their weight, which ranges from about 45 pounds to 65 pounds depending on size. You don’t want to lose one – new ones cost about $55 to $70, according to current advertisements. (Brooklin, Maine)

November Postcards From Maine

This November was milder than usual here in Brooklin, Maine. Our average temperature in Fahrenheit degrees was 56 with a high of 70 on one day and a low of 20 on two days. Our one and only snow storm was just a duster on November 3. Below, you see Acadia National Park across Blue Hill Bay on a sunny day. You also see the snow-dusted woods during the storm and two local ponds, one after the snow and one in sun.

We did have quite a few days of blustery winds that whipped up the coves and grasses. The highest November gust recorded here was 53 miles per hour, which occurred yesterday.

In terms of wildlife, November was the best month of the year for one reason: I finally “caught” the big male bobcat that I’ve been trying to “shoot” for years. He usually travels at dusk or later in the night, but, on November 6, he was slinking across our field while I was hidden near there with a big lens. He heard the clicks, looked my way, and slinked off into the woods.

The snow shower didn’t slow down any of the White-Tailed Deer that consider Barbara’s garden to be a charity kitchen, nor did it bother our resident porcupine pup that refuses to leave our property despite multiple incentives.

Due to our mild October and November, many trees had not turned color when the snow storm came early in the month. The leaves on the sugar maple below were green when the snow came. They soon turned yellow and dropped. Our famous Camperdown elm in Brooklin Cemetery, however, dropped its leaves in October and was ready for the snow in November. The leaves on Amen Farm’s signature weeping beech also turned and dropped during November.

Winterberry and vibernum bushes also got caught with some of their leaves on when the snow came.

Among the most colorful inhabitants of our woods has been, unfortunately, invasive Asian bittersweet, which kills native trees and bushes.

November on the waterfront is when many of our fishermen pull their lobster traps and store them for the winter.

Some fishermen will also store their boats and pursue other goals during the winter. Others refit their lobster boats with a mast and boom and the rest of the equipment to dredge for delicious scallops in November, when that season starts in earnest.

November is a voting month and this one was special: a Presidential election during a pandemic. Below, you see Brooklinites wearing masks and practicing extra-large social distancing as they line up to vote at the Town Office. (We’re aware of no Covid 19 cases in Brooklin, as of this writing.)

The prime of deer hunting season is in November (bucks and does with the right permit). The harvested animals have to be weighed and tagged at an authorized inspection station.

Of course, Thanksgiving occurs in November, plague or not. Many here decided to stay isolated and send Thanksgiving cards, rather than have their family members try to come in from out of state. There also is November’s Beaver Full Moon, which occurred last night, but was not visible due to wild storms. However, we have the next best thing — the virtually full moon that flew over through a clear November sky two days ago.

Speaking of clear skies, the winter skies in Maine, starting in November, are among the cleanest there are. That absence of haze, dust, and other pollution helps create the most colorful sunsets of the year here.

(All images here were taken in Brooklin, Maine, in November 2020.)

In the Right Place: Seeing Red

Here, we see yesterday’s sunset over Great Cove and Eggemoggin Reach, with the sun disappearing from view behind Deer Isle. Sunsets here are among the best in the colder clear air of winter. Clear air is one of the keys to beautiful sunsets. Dust and other pollution, as well as haze, dull air colors.

Clear air is not the whole story behind a good sunset, however. Basically, when the sun is low on the horizon in our eyes, its light is traveling to us through more air than during the day when the sun is high and closer. The longer the sunlight’s journey to us, the more air molecules it has to scatter. It scatters more violet and blue light out of the illumination that reaches us from far away, leaving more yellow, orange, and, especially, the longer red light waves for us to see. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Workout

Here, you see this morning’s low and late November sun light finally illuminating an important patch of woods at 8:30 a.m. The mossy patch is the end of at least three White-Tailed Deer trails. Their paths wind under 60- and 70- foot Balsam Firs and Black Spruce that have outgrown their original branches.

This also is the edge of the woods, where the deer stop, look around, and emerge into the open where the grazing is better. For several days, I’ve watched this spot for at least an hour, not moving when does and their yearlings come by without seeing me. I’m waiting for a big buck to appear before I click the shutter. I’m also giving my patience its much-needed morning workout. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Wakeup Calls

Here, you see a waterfowl hunting boat being positioned onto its trailer in Naskeag Harbor yesterday. Apparently, the men were returning from a morning hunt while hidden off one of the islands in Eggemoggin Reach.

Waterfowl hunting is highly regulated in Maine. The allowable seasons vary by species and state hunting zones, but November and December seem to be the months when much of that shooting takes place in the waters around here. We often wake up to “boom-boom-booms” from the Reach then. (Hunting hours begin at 30 minutes before sunrise.) (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Fine Dining

Our White-Tailed Deer are doing some serious grazing now that the days are getting colder and the greens are getting scarcer; a few are already starting to eat woody fodder. Whitetails need to consume food almost constantly when roaming their home range. (Defensive instincts keep most deer moving, albeit slowly when they find good fodder and no potential predators are sensed.)

The National Deer Association reports that, on average, Whitetails need to eat 6 to 8 percent of their body weight daily. That’s about 9 to 12 pounds a day for a 150-pound doe or buck! Above, you see a well-groomed doe browsing in our South Field on Wednesday (November 25). Here she is when she first noticed us:

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Bag Lady

These are some of our Thanksgiving table flowers for a dinner for two (and a zoom family get-together). It’s just amazing what Barbara can do with a $9.99 bag of supermarket flowers.

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Whippings

This was Great Cove a few minutes ago on this clear November day.

The temperature was 34 degrees (F) and a northwest wind was gusting at 29 miles per hour, whipping the water and grasses (common reed).

(Brooklin, Maine.)

In the Right Place: Crowded Freedom

Here, you see a patch of nearby woods that even the skinniest deer would agree is tough going.

We’re surprised at how much it resembles the crowded freedom in some paintings by abstract expressionists (e.g., Jackson Pollack). Unfortunately, the only color in this part of the woods comes from Asian Bittersweet, the serial killer that steals the life-giving sunlight from its neighbors, then chokes them to death.

Unfortunately, the only color in this part of the woods comes from Asian Bittersweet, the serial killer that steals the life-giving sunlight from its neighbors, then chokes them to death.

(Brooklin, Maine; images taken November 19, 2020).

In the Right Place: Department of Defense

Here, you see American crows starting to collect Friday (November 20) on one of their favorite roosting trees, a weeping beech.

The crows that have decided not to migrate are starting to form their winter communities here. In the spring, summer, and early fall, they maintain extended family territories that they defend against other crows.

As it gets cold and the leaves disappear, however, many nonmigrating crows from inland will come to the coast, somehow knowing that food-rich tidal zones usually are not buried in snow.

Leighton Archive Image

The formerly unneighborly resident crow families will create roosting areas with these inland birds and other “foreign” crows. They huddle through the winter nights with them. Why?

The leading theory is that crows sense their increased visibility (hence, vulnerability) in leafless trees. Their primary predators (other than humans) are great horned owls and other large raptors. Owls can see and attack crows better during clear winter twilight nights. The more crow eyes, ears, and sharp beaks available, the better that the birds can warn and defend themselves in winter. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Mmmm-MMMM

Here, we see the Fishing Vessel Tarr Baby becoming one of the first (if not the first) of our lobster boats being refitted yesterday with a mast and boom for winter Atlantic Scallop dredging.

The scallop season here runs from later this month through March of 2021, depending on the type of scalloping (dragging a dredge or human diving) and the Maine zone in which it is done.

For those lucky enough to live on the Down East coast of Maine, it’s time to place your order for fresh scallops with your favorite fisherman. David Tarr, the owner of Tarr Baby, is one of several fishermen already advertising with signs and on FaceBook.

There’s nothing better for dinner than very fresh scallops, except perhaps very fresh lobster. But, soon we’ll have both here! Time to get out that recipe for lobster and scallop bouillabaisse. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Change

Here, you see part of the marsh pond on the WoodenBoat School campus yesterday. It’s mostly iced up after a cold night and morning. If your eyes are very good, you’ll be able to discern a few Canada geese crammed in an area that has not yet frozen, probably because of their activity.

Below, you can see the pond the day before yesterday, prior to its icing:

Historically, the pond has been totally covered with thick ice by December, except (sometimes) for one or two river otter portals. The variable Climate Change weather has been changing that. For instance, this morning’s warm spell (47[F] at 9:45 a.m.) has been melting the ice and giving the thankful geese some paddling room. (Brooklin, Maine)

Inthe Right Place: Imagining

I sometimes find myself fixated by windows, especially these old windows that I’ve photographed many times, including this image yesterday.

These windows are part of the Beth Eden Chapel on Naskeag Road, a one-room church and meeting place that was finished in 1900. You can peer through the Chapel at the maple trees on its north, while the shadows of the maple trees on your side seem to be trying to enter the windows there.

Leighton Archive Image

This Chapel usually is vacant now, but it’s not hard to imagine the hope, joy, grief, and solace it has hosted as the place for a small rural community’s christenings, weddings, funerals, and prayers for the suffering.

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Nipper

The mornings here have been looking like October, but feeling like December. As our visiting neighbor said this morning, “It’s a nose nipper out there.” Yet, it’s been sparklingly clear and invigorating to be out of doors on days like this (when dressed warmly).

The image above is of one of the neighboring field ponds yesterday doing what field ponds do best at this time of the year – giving us a second helping of beautiful views and giving the still-migrating Canada Geese safe havens. You can see several of those Geese in this same pond last month in the first Comment space.

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Exuberant

 Yesterday morning was beautiful. However, the 12.86-foot high tide, wind gusts of 33.37 miles per hour, and temperatures in the high 40s here might have been a bit exuberant for those on or near the sea.

Above, you see Great Cove and the WoodenBoat School’s dock as the tide approached its high mark. Below you see the wind playing in Naskeag Harbor on the other side of our peninsula.

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Scoops and Dabs

Small flocks of little Bufflehead Ducks are now visiting Great Cove, flying here and there at high speeds. Buffleheads (Bucephala albeola), seldom reach 15 inches in length, which makes them the smallest diving ducks in North America. Their top flying speed has been clocked at a blurring 48 miles per hour.

The males are mostly white with a black head on which it looks like a double scoop of vanilla ice cream has been dropped.The females are darker overall with a dab of that ice cream on their cheeks. They get their strange name from the swell-headed males, which reminded the name-givers of American “Buffalos”.

Buffleheads eat crabs, clams, and water vegetation in winter and (unusually) nest in abandoned cavities of large woodpeckers. (Brooklin, Maine; Leighton Archive images used)

In the Rigjht Place: Pendulous

This spectacular Weeping Beech Tree at Amen Farm is a Brooklin landmark and it would be a curiosity anywhere with its unusual bottom branch pruning and training. In this November 10 image, you see it starting to shed its leaves that have turned to copper in the fall.

In the summer, the leaves form a dense green canopy:

Leighton Archive Image

When the leaves are gone, the tree looks like it’s having a massive bad hair time:

Leighton Archive Image

Weeping Beeches (Fagus sylvatica, “Pendula”), named after their pendulous branches, are not native to North America; they’re cultivars of the European Beeches. This one is 70 years old and is still growing; most Weeping Beeches live between 150 and 200 years. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Naskeag Harbor

“Can you hear me now?”

(Brooklin, Maine)