In the Right Place: Begin the Beautiful Begonia

We’ve been having a lot of fog and light rain lately that can darken our mood at times. But, it apparently has delighted these swaying begonias to near-revelry.

No, Cole Porter did not write a song about them. That’s “Begin the Beguine,” which is about dancing romantically to Latin music that originated in the French West Indies. However, these porch-dancing begonias also have a somewhat similar origin. They were discovered in Brazil in 1690 and named after the French botanist Michel Begon, according to the literature.

(Images taken in Blue Hill, Maine, on May 17, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Tiny Life Report IV

Talk about tiny!

This fellow has a wingspan well under an inch and is sipping from a bluet, one of our smallest flowers. He’s blue on top, gray underneath, and very fluttery. I’m guessing that he’s a northern azure (Calastrina lucia) or some other azure species. Since they reclassified the little azures into many species, I have more than my usual identification problems with small butterflies and moths.

Northern azures are residents here. They’re not only tiny, they’re short-lived and have to make the most of life to propagate their species. They apparently emerge from their chrysalises throughout the spring and summer, starting about mid-May. But, once out, they reportedly live only a week or two. Females are said to mate within hours of emerging – welcome to the Lycaenidae family!.  (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 11, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Floating

Above you see the WoodenBoat School pier as it appeared in Great Cove earlier this month. It’s a landmark on this part of the Down East coast. However, as with virtually all piers of this type, it’s incomplete until it’s docking float and aluminum gangway are reinstalled. They’re taken off for the winter. The gangway is stored atop the pier (look closely at the end of the pier), while the float is stored ashore in the WBS boat launching ramp.

On Wednesday (May14), this odd-looking creature appeared in the Cove:

It’s All Hutchins’ no-name workboat. Some call it the A.H. Marine Company float boat and others call it less flattering names. True, it’s not a graceful, gleaming vessel, but it is one of the most functional pieces of marine equipment you’ll find. No-name and her crew have a reputation for being among the best — if not the best — at removing and reinstalling floating docks. That’s an essential task here on the coast. Here they are Wednesday, starting to pull the large WBS docking float down the ramp and into the Cove:

Unfortunately, one of the floatation tubs under the docking float was damaged and Al and his crew had to fix it and postpone installing the float until yesterday (Thursday, May 15). Here you see them resuming dragging the float from its storage place and pushing it over to the pier yesterday:

The float has to be attached to the mooring chains that are bolted to the end granite pier pylon. Access to the chain hookups is through four wells on the float. The gangway is lifted off the pier and attached as a walkway down to the float. Then the float is cleaned with a broom and seawater:

Later in the day, as fog starts rolling in through the sun, The WBS pier is ready, willing, and able to serve students and the visiting public:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 8 [1st image], 14, and 15, 2025)

In the Right Place: O-Nest Report IV

Here you see our heroes who fought off and nearly killed a rogue male osprey who was trying to invade and steal their home last week. That’s Ozzie bringing Harriet a gift, while she appears to be horrified by his taste in furnishings. Ozzie got the hint and soon left to get Harriet a delicious fish:

Our happy homeowners had an unexciting week, which is a fabulous state of mind in osprey-land. However, I’m slightly concerned about them being behind schedule. They are still copulating regularly and Harriet does not spend all of her time in the nest. She stays upright in it and takes solo trips from the nest.  At this time last year, Harriet remained lying low in the nest laying eggs and then brooding.

Harriet does, however, often beg in her nest while Ozzie is away, which is a good sign she’s in a breeding mood:

It could be that the multi-day home invasion threw their schedule off. It also could be that this year will be one of those rarities when Ozzie and Harriet produce no little prehistoric-looking raptors. Stay tuned. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 13, 2025.)

In the Right Place: A Plum of a Moon

Here you see the May full moon sailing over Great Cove and Eggemoggin Reach at 3:06 a.m. yesterday morning. This month’s moon traditionally is called The Flower Moon in the Northern Hemisphere due to the many flowers that appear in May.

In fact, plum tree blossoms – among the most exquisite of flowers – were opening here when this moon appeared yesterday. Here’s a merger of photographs, taken hours apart, of that moon and those blossoms:

Why humans are attracted to the moon has been the subject of countless theories by artists, philosophers, and physical scientists. But I don’t think anyone has discovered the real reason(s). (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, May 13, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Nursery Rhyme Redux

Hickory dickory dock

The crane lifted the block

The clock struck one

The float was almost done

Hickory dickory dock

(Apologies to the prolific poet Anonymous for playing with her words.) Here you see a sign of the times: Brooklin’s floating dock system being re-installed yesterday in Naskeag Harbor next to the Town Dock. The expeditious installation by A.H. Marine, Inc., was finished by afternoon.

The float system was first installed last May and then taken ashore for the winter, as likely will happen this year. The system provides a needed area for tying up the small boats used by lobster fishermen to get to and from their vessels in the Harbor as well as for tying up the boats of visitors.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 12, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Tiny Lives Report IV

Here we have one of those delightful little beings who is heard more than seen. He is, after all, always drably dressed and only about 6 inches long. Yet, what a talented performer he is! He can make your day when you wake up to his song, or go to bed to his song, or walk with his song wafting in a fresh breeze, or get plinked by raindrops as he sings on a wet day.

He’s the aptly named song sparrow and he sings virtually all the time. His melodic nature was recognized in Latin by scholars who gave his species the scientific name Melospiza melodia. Even his slightly smaller mate sings, but not as frequently. It’s a musical family.

It's impossible to accurately describe the song sparrow’s theme song, the one  that we hear all summer. Forbush gave up and used Henry David Thoreau’s report of how “country people” described the song: “Maids! Maids! Maids! Hang up your teakettle-ettle-ettle” -- with the first three notes long but brisk and the last notes run together quickly. That does not nearly do this Top 10 Tune on the Bird Billboard justice.

And, this meister singer is not just a soloist. He’s been reported to come close and harmonize to the sound of music heard through an open window from a piano or radio. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine on April 23 and May 8, 2025.)

In the Right Place: To Our Mothers!

There’s nothing more important than motherhood in its fullest sense for us and the many other beings who are born needing life’s primal necessity, nurturing.

Perhaps, there’s also nothing more beatific than a quietly proud mother nurturing her young well.

Happy Mothers’ Day! (Leighton Archive images taken in Brooklin, Maine.)

In the Right Place: Furry Projections Department

Here’s a bit of a rarity: a North American river otter in repose. Usually, these otters are furry perpetual motion machines.

When he sensed me sneaking up on him, this guy turned my way, flared his mustache in distain – click! – and disappeared into the pond with a long, lithe “slurp.” I sat down and waited for half an hour and he never popped up. (There are burrows with underwater entrances all around the pond; he probably went back to sleep in one of them.)

I’m assuming that this otter is a male because it's about the end of mating season for his kind and I’d like to believe that he’s tuckered out from wandering from pond to pond and mating uproariously with all the females he could find. (Hope that’s not too much psychological projection on my part.)

(Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 8, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Worth Bearing in Mind

The evolving wildlife professionals’ advice on what to do when encountering a black bear is the subject of my latest column, which is appearing in the current print edition of the Ellsworth American (and in the May 2, 2025, digital edition). 

The above image of a local black bear that I encountered appears with the column; click on it to enlarge it. To read the column about what to do if you meet a black bear, use this link: https://www.5backroad.com/montly-column

In the Right Place: Being in Line

In a fog,

Sometimes the intended way is made virtually mandatory:

And, sometimes the intended way is strongly suggested.

But, often, the intended way remains befogged:

Above, you see the Brooklin Boat Yard pier at Center Harbor in yesterday’s fog, the crosswalk and parking area at Naskeag Harbor in Tuesday’s fog, and the Town Dock at Naskeag Harbor on Tuesday.

I’ll soon be taking a walk in the woods in this morning’s fog where there is no intended destination. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 6 [Naskeag] and 7 [Center], 2025.)

In the Right Place: Coastal Classics

A foggy day in Brooklin town,
Had me low and had me down,
I viewed the morning with alarm,
The pier and boathouse had lost their charm.

How long, I wondered, could this thing last?

I apologize for those slight lyric changes to lyricist Ira Gershwin, not to mention composer George Gershwin and the legendary vocalists and jazz instrumentalists who made “A Foggy Day” an American Songbook classic. I’m just wondering how long our current coastal daily fogs can last.

However, let’s keep in mind that, despite its depressing beginning, the famous song turns out to be about a very happy experience – as are most coastal classic foggy mornings in Down East Maine. See also the image in the first Comment space. (Images taken on the WoodenBoat Campus in Brooklin, Maine, May 6, 2025.)

In the Right Place: O-Nest Report III

Life has been difficult for Ozzie and Harriet since you last read about them here. Above, you see Harriet just about to leave her nest to defend it against a home invader — let’s call him Putin. Putin keeps driving Harriet off the nest and invading her home:

Ozzie always arrives in a hurry and some vicious fights have ensued, including one in which Putin lost almost half of his tail, as you see in the above-right image. Here’s Ozzie beginning a chase:

This is not rare behavior. Aggressive bachelor ospreys returning to breed for the first time sometimes attempt to take over an established nest that has taken years to build. It sure saves time and effort to steal rather than build. However, it’s also a good way to get yourself killed if the homeowners are still vibrant raptors.

Nonetheless, home invasion can be a successful tactic when the nest owners have lost some of their rapturing capabilities. Survival of the fittest is still the name of the game here. A major threat to Ozzie and Even if Putin is thwarted eventually, there is the possibility that his persistent attacks could prevent successful egg-laying and brooding by Harriet.. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 5, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Buoy Oh Buoy

Our spring sights include the appearances of warblers, ospreys, and Vulcan. As for the latter, I’m not referring to the Roman god of fire and forges, although he certainly would be a fantastic sighting for the life list. I’m referring to the moorings vessel Vulcan owned by Brooklin Marine, LLC:. Here you see her on Saturday, when her crew was laying boat moorings in Great Cove:

The moorings apparently are for the WoodenBoat School's fleet, visiting boats, and perhaps the boats of some local residents. During the summer, the Cove is a breath-taking tableau of bobbing and swinging recreational boats and often one or more high-masted coastal cruisers.

Vulcan is not as graceful-looking as most of the boats that will be tied up to those moorings she’s installing. But, she’s built for tough jobs and apparently does them well. I’m told that the drum winch on her bow is rated for hoisting 10,000 pounds.

The basic parts of a mooring setup start with an anchoring object that could weigh hundreds to thousands of pounds, depending on the boat that it will secure and the water conditions. Where the sea bottom is soft and the boat is not huge, a mushroom anchor might do the job nicely, but many prefer more permanent “anchors” in the form of a heavy block of granite or concrete with an eyebolt on top.

Chains run from the anchors’ eyebolts to the mooring buoys/balls. Unless the boat is large, a nylon rope-like pennant can be attached to the buoy to be hooked up to the boat via shackles and swivels. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 3, 2025.)

In the Right Place: A Telling Long Tail

This is the second painted turtle that I’ve seen in our ponds this year. He was trying to bask in yesterday’s on-again-off-again sun and chilled air and, accordingly, he seemed a bit grim, himself. (I’m guessing that this is a male because of the relatively long tail. Among other sexual differences, female PTs have shorter, stubbier tails to facilitate mating.)

Painted turtles (Chrysemys picta) have existed for at least 15 million years, according to fossil records. These common natives to the United States evolved into four geographical subspecies during the last glacial age, which ended almost 12 thousand years ago.

Maine’s subspecies, shown here, is the Eastern painted turtle, Chrysemys picta picta; it’s the only subspecies with shell (“carapace”) segments (“scutes”) that are patterned in virtually straight rows and columns. The other subspecies are the Western, Midland, and Southern PTs.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 3, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Passing the Smell Test

Here’s a white-tailed deer quartet that I snuck up on in yesterday’s light rain. A couple of them had just realized that I had slipped within their comfort zone:

The eyes of a startled or amazed deer are fascinating; they seem to enlarge. You have to wonder what thoughts they have at such a time. See, e.g., the eyes of this yearling, which also may have some genetic (piebald/leucism) whitening issues:

As for the weather, white-tails have a reduced ability to scent humans at a distance in the rain, according to reports. However, other reports indicate that humidity enhances deer olfactory systems’ ability to detect scent molecules. Since rain increases humidity, the tracking advantages of rain may be something of a trade-off in many situations.

Nonetheless, rain usually makes tracking deer quieter, which seems to provide an edge over dry-weather tracking, albeit sometimes an uncomfortable one. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 2, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Tiny Bird Report III

Female ruby-crowned kinglets such as this deserve to be crowned winners for laying perhaps the largest clutch of eggs of any tiny bird who runs a tiny nest – they can lay up to 12 eggs, according to reports. Yet, despite their names and accomplishments, female ruby-crowned kinglets have no crowns. It doesn’t seem right.

Male ruby-crowned kinglets have the red crowns. (To be fair, these males do hide their crowns most of the time, but they’ll flare them up and get majestic when they see an attractive female or otherwise get excited.)  And don’t forget that both the male and female of our only other kinglet (small king) species, the orange-crowned kinglet, have crowns. But not the forgotten female ruby-crowned kinglet, who is royal in her special, tiny, 4.25” way.

April Postcards From Down East Maine

April here this year threw everything she had at us — sun, snow, rain, wind, fog, cold, warm, clear skies, cloudy skies, and a lot of indeterminates. Meanwhile, our flora and fauna flourished with buds, early flowers, the return of migrant birds, and the seeming joy of all-year resident wild life.

As usual, we begin our Postcards with the monthly view of four iconic scenes for future reference. The views of Mount Desert Island (where Acadia National Park is) and the white house on Harbor Island deserve contrasting images this month:

The views of the near-mountain named Blue Hill and the old red boat house in Conary Cove look best in sunshine and amid evergreens in mostly-leafless April:

Many of us will remember April of 2025 for its magical spring snowstorm that swept in one day, covered spring growth in crystals, made everything dazzle in the next day’s sun, and melted away almost before we knew what had happened:

As for wildlife, the April resident standouts included our resolute white-tailed deer herds that bedded down in rain and enjoyed making shadows on the sunny new grass. Porcupines came down from the winter trees to nibble grass that had newly-turned green, painted turtles and North American river otters appeared in ponds, and resident black-capped chickadees kept a sharp eye on their territories while migrant birds started to arrive.

The big news among migrant wildlife was that Ozzie and Harriet returned to their nearby nest once again. These osprey (fish hawks) busied themselves in April by copulating often, fixing up their huge nest with new branches and moss, and defending their home from jealous ospreys who can’t afford waterfront property:

Canada geese flocks made many stopovers on their way north and we might have convinced a great blue heron to stay and be a warm weather resident.

Incoming wood ducks loved to parade in the ponds while rain drops plinked the water around them.

Finally as to fauna, April is when the glass eel season begins in earnest here. Large nets are spread at the mouths of the streams that these migrating baby American eels (“elvers”) use to get to the freshwater ponds and lakes in which they’ll mature.

As for flora, April is when much of our vegetation starts to awaken and a few traditional spring plants burst on the scene in dramatic flowerings. In terms of trees, the biggest contrast is the new growth on our mighty white pines compared to the flowerheads on red maple trees:

Two favored spring bushes that are famous for producing beautiful flowers before they grow leaves are forsythias, which have small yellow flowers, and star magnolias, where the white flowers begin as pussy-willow-like buds and burst into shooting stars.

Of course, it wouldn’t be spring if it weren’t trumpeted in by daffodils and sprinkled with wild bluets

Around and in the vernal pools, orbs of Japanese sweet coltsfoot and spires of skunk cabbage were the usual early risers that produced life-saving nectar for our first pollinating insects, while young fiddle-headed ferns sprung to attention and began to unfurl.

On the working waterfront, the season for hand-harvesting divers’ scallops ended in April. Here, sporting the blue and white international diving flag, is a fishing vessel used as a platform for winter scallop harvesting by a diver in a wetsuit and underwater breathing apparatus:

April also is the month when many Maine towns hold their Annual Meetings at which the townspeople make community-related decisions for the future:

Finally, and perhaps most spectacularly, there was the April full moon that we never saw fully. It snowed that night and the sky was full of fleeing storm clouds. But, the full moon had plenty of luminescence and shone through those storm clouds to create a night-time (2 a.m.) snowscape of extraordinary drama:

(All images in this post were taken in Down East Maine during April 2025.)

In the Right Place: Maple Marvels

Some male red maple tree flowers have opened recently and their leaf buds are evident at branch tips. Apparently, depending on their inclination, red maples (Acer rubrum) can produce both male and female flowers, or just male flowers, or just female flowers.

Male flowers, as you see, have long stamens that extend beyond the petals; their tips will get covered in yellow pollen, which the wind will whisk away. In the female flower, the stigma extends past the petals, ready to catch some of that pollen. The female flower then produces the tree “fruit” in the form of double samaras or “spinners” (winged seeds that “helicopter” to the ground). (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on April 29, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Tiny Bird Report II

Here you see an eastern palm warbler standing tall – all 5 inches of him – among the blossoming maple tree flowerheads. This bird usually is among our earliest spring warblers.

The eastern subspecies (Setophaga palmarum hypochrysea) that we have here usually is called the “yellow palm warbler” due to its bright yellow underparts, whereas the western subspecies (Setophaga palmarum palmarum) usually is called the “brown palm warbler” due to its much drabber, gray-brown appearance.

The yellow palm warbler’s most significant characteristic was perhaps described best by Edward Howe Forbush in his incomparable Birds of Massachusetts and Other New England States: “It flits from bush to ground … with its loose-hung tail almost continually wagging with methodic regularity, not from side to side like that of a dog, but up and down like that of a Phoebe, and with the same easy unhurried motion.” (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on April 24, 2025; sex assumed.)