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Showing posts with label Maine Coast. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Maine Coast. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Not Your Grandmother's Loons

The classic, black and white Common Loon is a regular on calendars, wall paper borders, coffee mugs and any chachkee for the tourist trade in North America where there is a body of water. The haunting yodel, which only males produce, can be heard across lakes and ocean coves through out the summer. For some, the shrieking tremolo is frightening and sends shivers up the spine. For others, it's a familiar comfort, the sound of lakeside camping and fishing trips with your dad. Maybe that's why images of Common Loons sell so well. But, they aren't the only loons in town.There are five kinds of loons, Arctic, Pacific, Yellow-billed, Common and Red-throated.



A Common Loon eating a crab, non-breeding plumage.


Red-throated loons, non-breeding plumage.
...............................................................
Red-throated Loons, or Red-throated Divers are the most widely distributed of all the loon family. They are common on the cove where I live in the winter months. I saw five of them two days ago. I sat on the end of my pier for more than an hour to get these photographs. The sun was shining and it was just under 50 degrees. But, the wind kicked up coming off the water and it was COLD! Nonetheless, I had to sit very still for long enough that they forgot I was there. I looked like just part of the peir to them after a while. Each time I needed to move, to blow my nose or something, I had to wait until they dived. While they were under, I met my movement needs, being careful not to clunk on the deck. That would have vibrated down through the pilings into the water. Once, they resurfaced very close to me, so I could get these photographs.


"Is this my good side?"

Red-throated Loons are migratory. They breed and summer in the  arctic circle. Monogamous, they form long term pair bonds which can last a couple of decades. That's a better marriage record than most humans I know! Both sexes build a mud and stick nest on the ground and care for the eggs and young. Though the Red-throated loon is the smallest of all the loons, their young are ready to hit the water in a couple of days. This differs from Common Loons whose babies ride on their backs for a few weeks. All loons are water birds only coming on land to build nests and lay eggs. The legs of the Red-throated loon are set so far back on its body that it can not walk on land. Like all loons, they dive for fish, mollusks, amphibians and crustaceans. Into the 1800's, the Red-throated loon was used to predict the weather. When the "Rain Goose" flew inland and it's cry was short, the weather would be good. When it flew out to sea with a long, wailing cry the weather would be bad. Loons are protected by the Migratory Bird Treaty Act of 1918 and some international treaties as well. Nonetheless, their populations are declining in some places. They have natural predators, but it's thought that fishing nets, habitat destruction and oil spills are the biggest threats to loons.


Thanks to Wikipedia for this information. Click here for more information about loons.

  • Barr, J. F., C. Eberl, and J. W. McIntyre. 2000. Red-throated Loon (Gavia stellata). In The Birds of North America, No. 513 (A. Poole and F. Gill, eds.). The Birds of North America, Inc., Philadelphia, PA.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Deer Dancing On The Beach



 Directly across the cove from us is Hermit Island (see http://www.hermitisland.com/ for more information). The island is largely undeveloped. It has rustic campsites for spectacular ocean side camping. Hunting is not allowed on the island, so the White-tailed deer abound there. The campers love the deer that have become habituated to humans. They are quite tame (the deer, not the campers) which allows for easy viewing. Sand-dollar beach is about 1/4 mile from here. I've become so accustomed to the usual shapes, textures and forms 'across the way,' that I could immediately see the deer from as far away as our house. I did have to use binoculars to count how many there were, though. Thankfully, I've got a telephoto lens long enough to photograph the surface of the moon, so I could get these shots. Otherwise, I would have to be in a boat for this look at deer gamboling across the beach. One winter the snow was so deep that I saw deer over there eating sea weed. They were along the water line on what would be the left side of the photo (north) and were clearly munching on the rock weed. Now, that's desperate. Unless, of course, you are eating California rolls wrapped in knori - throw in a little wasabi paste and pickled ginger, then desperation becomes haute cuisine.


Thursday, September 24, 2009

Seal Of Approval




Harbor seals are common in Maine. I saw this one on our last boating day. It was in the New Meadows River, which isn't a river at all. The New Meadows is a tidal tributary. I have no idea why it was named as a river. There is seaweed all the way to the northern most reaches, seals, horseshoe crabs and jelly fish, to name but a few of the ocean dwellers. So, no one would ever have confused it with a river. For about eighteen years I lived on the northern end, so I would know. I did see a beaver in the water there  one spring. I would not have thought I'd ever see a beaver in salt water, but I did. It was playing with a cat on the bank. The beaver had a bunch of sticks in the water from which it had stripped the bark. The bare wood was pale in the dark water and the beaver was flipping it  around as it worked off the bark. The cat seemed to think it had tied into the biggest rodent it had ever seen. Several times, it crept to the water's edge and batted at the beaver, then jumped back. The game ended when the beaver circled around in the water so that its tail was toward the cat, which was hunkered down in the mud as if about to pounce. The beaver slapped its tail on the water and doused the cat which took off, humiliated, no doubt. I've never seen a cat try to play with a seal. I'm waiting. I haven't kept count, but it seems to me I've seen more seals this year than ever before. I saw a Gray seal in our cove two days ago, which is highly unusual. They come from up north and aren't usually around here, certainly not in our warm cove. Harbor seals are still seen easily at the mouth of the Kennebec at Popham and generally, they are all but gone at this time of year. This seal has wiskers any cat would admire.

Last Call - Final Boat Day





Our last boating day of the season was Saturday, with our dear friends on their boat. I decided quite a few years ago that much as I love boating, it's best done on other people's boats. Most people who own boats here are either waiting for a good day to go boating or complaining because that day hasn't arrived in Maine. If the weather doesn't get them, the repairs do. Something is always broken on a boat and going to cost a 'boat-load' of money. The talk is often of what the monstrous costs were or anguishing that a particular thing is going to fail momentarily and what that will cost. Just hope you aren't on board when whatever breaks down, because it is guaranteed to be an astronomically expensive nightmare. Next to medical equipment, if the word 'marine' is attached to anything, it will break the bank. The only other thing close to those two things is photography equipment. There is also a lot of hype around getting ready to go out on a boat. There is rushing around to meet tides and anxiety about slipping and falling and need to wear correct footwear. Most of us take enough food and clothing to outfit twenty people for a single afternoon of boating in Maine. Prepare for all contingencies is our motto. Remember what was said about the Minnow, Gilligan's barque of the three hour tour! How many years did that show run? Our friends get more use out of their boat than anyone else I've ever known, though. They even take their dog, a Scottish terrier. He is a good boat dog meaning that he doesn't complain and doesn't expect much for a head. That means toilet in boat talk. Don't ask me why. He also willingly wears a life jacket with a handle, so he can be hoisted on and off the boat like a six pack of beer. We love to go boating with our pals. We are always sad when the season is over. These are some of the photographs I took on our last outing.

Double Crested Cormorants                                                                                                              

This sail boat might be good for anybody's blood pressure. Photo taken in 'The Basin' on the New Meadows River

Sunday, September 13, 2009

I'm Veery, Veery Sorry! Veery V.S. Gothic Oven Bird



I've made a mistake. I was wrong. Yup. You heard me. I know that sounds preposterous, but it's true. I committed a grievous error in my previous post "Last Call-Final Call." I posted a photograph of a bird I identified as an Oven Bird, but it was a Veery. This was pointed out by an observant and attentive reader whom I would thank if I actually knew who it was! I'm Veery, Veery sorry if my credibility has tanked and for the confusion and consternation I have caused. I know how seriously matters birding are for many people, especially when salient points of identifications are grossly overlooked. There is no margin for error nor forgiveness. I am planning on crawling on my knees all the way to Aspen when we go in October to visit my son. Swear I am. It will be a pilgrimage of penance for my ornithological sin. Side by side, perhaps you can see what my temptation was. The birds are nearly the same size, a close color on the back and chest with speckling about the chest. The Oven Bird, however, has a pronounced eye ring which the Veery does not . The Oven Bird also has an orange cap and stripes the length of its head which the Veery does not. The underside of the Veery is pristine white where the Oven Bird has a distinct yellow cast.   Oven Birds, a type of Warbler are in the photos on the left. A Veery, a type of Thrush is in the photo on right. By the way, the Oven Bird was given that name because its nest, made of grass and lined with hair, is dome shaped with the opening on the side resembling an oven. It is built on the ground, not in trees. I like to imagine the nests lined with the dog hair I put outside and that from my own head. I have a habit of standing on the deck in the cool air of night brushing my hair which gets caught in the breeze and carried away. Other parts of me get carried away often in my enthusiasm, also. I apologize for that, too. The Oven Bird has a two part call that sounds like 'teeeeeeeeeacher, teeeeeeeacher' and is frequently heard coming from the woods all summer. The bird is rarely seen though. Unfortunately, I've seen numerous of them in their Gothic demise, and now, sadly, I have to add another species, the Veery to my window mortality count. I think I'll go beat myself with a stick now.

To hear the song of the Oven bird, copy and paste this link into your browser:    http://www.enature.com/fieldguides/detail.asp?allSpecies=y&searchText=oven%20bird&curGroupID=1&lgfromWhere=&curPageNum=1                                                                         



Friday, September 11, 2009

Last Call- Just Pretty

The Harvest Moon signaling time to bring in the crops. There have already been frosts in Maine around Calais. Brrrrrrrrr!   Can you see the silhouette of the Gibson Girl in the face of the moon? She's on the right hand side. If you squint, you'll get a more impressionistic view and it may be easier for you to pick her out. Her chin is raised and she's smiling. The large dark areas form the top of her hair in the classic Gibson style.                                                                                                                                                   
This is Rudbeckia Flugida. It has glossy leaves. The Brown or Black Eyed Susans with fuzzy leaves and a floppier, more open habit are Rudbeckia Hirta. Hirta means hairy. Call'a me names like that and I'll have my cousin Vinny hirt'a you!
These are the last fruits of a vibrunum. I don't know which variety it is. There are viburnums which are native to the Maine woods. They are an important food source for birds and rodents. The birds have pretty well picked this one clean. The berries start out brilliant red then turn to black.
This is a Hydrangea bloom. I don't know the variety. The heads are the size of basketballs. Looking at the flowers close up reminds me of snow. BBBbbrrrrrrrrrrrr!

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Mackerel Mayhem





The Mackerel have been here in Totman Cove so thick these past two days that the water is boiling with them from cove side to cove side. In the second photo, the water to the right of the Osprey is being splashed up by fish. Areas on the water as big as 100 feet across looked and sounded as if handfuls of rocks were being thrown. There have been as many as 10 Osprey at a time. Osprey are common here, but this time of year they are beginning to migrate and it's not so usual to see so many at once. They have been attacking the Bald eagles! There were four Bald eagles this morning when the tide was going out. Two of them were mature adults and fully balded. Neither of them had comb-overs, thankfully. They looked like a mated pair. I could tell because they were wearing wedding rings. The other two were juveniles. They caught mackerel, too but they weren't as good at it as the Herring gulls or the Osprey. The gulls could gulp down a whole, eight inch mackerel while still in flight! There were also three Harbor seals lapping it up. The word got out quickly and the fisherman had a go of it, too. These guys were gang line fishing. Two boats with purse seines got in on the action and this lovely woman wearing the schnauzer sweat shirt. As if this wasn't exciting enough, our dog trapped a mink under the steps that go down the bank to the shore. What a racket! The mink made this loud 'cccccaaaaaaaiiiiiik' noise over and over until we pulled the dog away. The mink got away and the dog went into the house and pouted all day. It was so exciting that I had to go Weed For Dollars because if I stayed home I would have had a nervous breakdown.


Monday, September 7, 2009

LAST CALL

As today is Labor Day, I'm going to run a mini series called Last Call. It will be photographs of things we only usually see here  in the fall. The sun is shining bright and hot right now, but not for long. The nights are pleasantly cool for sleeping. The cool will shortly turn to cold. In a few weeks, one of us will look to the sky, sniffing the air like dogs and say, "Gee, it sure feels like snow tonight." And one day, if not that day, it will indeed snow. Summer doesn't feel like it's over, but technically it is. At this time of year, the reality of that is fed to us in dollops every day. My records show that the Ruby Throated Hummingbirds disappear from here for the year about September 18th, my son's birthday. This little lady was savoring the last of the Bee Balm. The Bee Balm, or Monarda, has almost given up the ghost itself with just a couple of tattered flowers left. The leaves of Bee Balm are intensely aromatic. When the leaves are bruised the essential oils which are used to flavor Earl Grey tea are released into the air and onto your hands. I love working around it all summer long. When I'm cleaning up gardens in the fall I can smell it even though the plants are gone. Monarda is a member of the mint family and has many of its annoying expansion traits. Some would call it in fact, invasive. You can tell it's a mint by the square stems. All mints have that in common. These hummingbirds migrate to Mexico and Central America. They make a remarkable 18-20 hour non-stop flight across the Gulf. With that in mind, I keep the nectar feeders full and sparkling clean. So drink up little hummer - it's the last call.


Wednesday, September 2, 2009

"Don't Blink, It's Another MINK!"





I have noticed an abundance of these American Mink along the shore this year. A few nights ago, I was having cocktails with a neighbor. We were sitting on her porch overlooking the water. Suddenly, a mink bounced onto the lawn, stood on it's hind legs while studying us, then bounced away back down to the rocks. I have seen them numerous times in front of our house while NOT under the influence of Martinis. Our dog yodels wildly when he sees one darting amongst the rocks. I took these photos on Little Wood Island which sits about two miles off the coast of Phippsburg on the west side. This is an American Mink. You can tell it's not a European Mink by its accent. Actually, European Minks are distinguishable by a white mark on their head. They are an introduction to our ecology and do not fare as well as the American Mink. Our mink eats anything. In the wild they eat small fish and other marine life caught in tidal pools and small birds. I've seen them most often at low tide, hunting the stranded amongst the cracks of rocks and sea weed. Rabbits are reported to be their favorite food. I've never seen a rabbit here. Perhaps they've eaten them all. There aren't any Common Eiders' nests on Little Wood Island anymore, reportedly because the mink have consumed them. In captivity on mink farms, where they are raised for fur, they eat expired cheese and dairy products and dog food. A lobster fisherman I know complains that if he leaves sandwiches or chips overnight on his boat the the mink climb aboard and steal his lunch. I'm sure that European Mink eat foi gras, scones and vichyssoise which is why they have not done as well here. Certainly, they would look down their noses at dog food or fouled cheese. Mink are territorial. A single male will defend an area of several miles around a pond edge or a strip of coastline. I've seen more than one here, so I'm guessing they were this year's kits. Mink have one litter a year of about 6 kits. They can retain embryos until it's suitable to give birth, but this usually takes place in the spring. They are about 18" from head to tail end and have rich, chocolaty fur. Lovely as the fur is, my first thought on seeing them has never been "Hey! I think I'll kill a whole lot of them and make a coat!" Who comes up with that stuff anyway?     


Friday, August 28, 2009

American Painted Lady Not So Lovely




A great friend brought to me a jar of caterpillars of the American Painted Lady butterfly. They are beautiful in their own way. I like the geometry of the yellow stripes and red spots. They see a wider range of patterns and color, especially ranges of green than humans do. This may account for the highly defined striping and spotting. They feed on glaucous  leaved foliage, like this Pearly Everlasting. I once had Edelweiss in a garden because my grandmother loved it. She grew up in Munich, Germany. I found numerous of its dried flowers pressed into books in her house. Every year, my Edelweiss was consumed by these caterpillars and it eventually succumbed. The caterpillars spin a silk thread from the spinneret just below the mouth and hang from one end. The suspended caterpillar's skin eventually splits from end to end revealing the chrysalis. As a defense, the chrysalis shakes vigorously if disturbed. It's jiggling is unnerving when this otherwise inert object suddenly feels so alive. After two weeks, the butterfly that has formed inside emerges. The butterflies live about two weeks, then they lay eggs on the plants they have favored for food and the cycle contines again. The American Painted Lady is one of the most common butterflies in the United States and can be found in almost all of our states.


Monday, August 17, 2009

Atlantic Puffins







I can't believe it was a year ago that I went to Machias Seal Island off the coast of Maine to see the Puffins. I'm struck by how much better my photography is now. I made this slide show back then and it shows! Even so, they are really cute and I think that comes across in the photographs, though technically not the greatest. Maybe one day, I'll get a do-over. The island is 10 miles off The Bold Coast. The seas can be rough - think about Boniva or 'The Patch,' at least, forgo a greasy breakfast. I left from Cutler, east of Machias. It was a foggy, misty day; rain nearly kept us ashore, but at the last minute, we went. I was with a clutch of my camera club pals. Cutler boasts the highest number of days of fog on the Maine coast coming in at about 33%. On arrival on the island, the group was escorted by conservation workers from Canada and the US. There is a dispute about which nation 'owns' the island. So, they all work there to keep their hand in. An advantage to this is that the standards of attention to the birds and care of the island may be higher than if there was a single landlord. The Common or Atlantic puffin is not endangered. In Greenland, they eat the birds like squab. At 3,000 birds, MSI has the largest colony in the world. Even so, human exposure is highly controlled. You must stay on a wooden plank-way, no going 'off trail.' Viewing is by groups of four people from observation blinds that look like outhouses. There are open slots, not unlike gun sights from all walls of the blind. There isn't room to sit, so for the two hours of viewing allowed, you get pretty chummy with your companions if you weren't already. If you need to leave the blind you are escorted back to a corral where you wait until everyone is done, never to return to the blind. Make sure you pee before you go to the blind or you'll feel like you're going blind before it's over! And don't even think about breaking the rules. The Canadian conservation worker is a great swarthy man with deeply calloused hands that could break your neck like a chicken. He tells you, "Don't even try to get away with anything to see the puffins or get a unique photograph. We've seen it ALL before. If you can't get a decent photograph while you're here, then there's something wrong with you." He's right about that. He also left no confusion that if you violated the rules, you'd wind up before a magistrate in Nova Scotia so fast it would make your head spin. There was nothing funny about this, but the chubby, little Puffins were comical as all get out!

Sunday, August 16, 2009

"To Everything Terns, Terns......."

In Small Point Harbor there is a boat mooring field. In that field is a float, on the float is a stack of lobster traps, on the stack of lobster traps on the float in the mooring field is a colony of Common terns. Can you say that ten times fast? I could not get enough of these terns and took scads of photographs. They are quite habituated to people as they are in the middle of the mooring field so I could get very close to them. The parents were bringing in little fish for the youngsters (click on the last photo to enlarge and you'll see that). Noisy, they utter a loud "kkkkeeeeey," as they swoop around. I love their streamlined bodies and sharply contrasted coloration. Plus, they are so gregarious! A bird after my own heart, indeed. I'm glad I don't own the boats that they favor for perching, though. What a mess they make!

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Multiple Personality Disorder

Believe it or not, this is the same butterfly with its wings closed and opened. It is the American Lady butterfly, though this one is male. It spent most of the past two days flitting around on this blooming oregano in my garden. The topside and underside are totally distinct, as if this butterfly couldn't decide who it wanted to be when it grew up. I understand this entirely. For twenty two years, as a nurse I squashed myself into white uniforms, then pantie hose and business suits. On my days off, like Superman in a phone booth, I tore away my suits revealing my true self. Wings closed, wings opened to ripped jeans, T shirts and muck boots. I too, frantically shed the professional garb as if it were life and death. It was, indeed. The live kernel of my creative, primary brain would have perished completely had it not been able to bust out. Come to think of it, this sounds more like The Incredible Hulk than a switch-er-oo butterfly or a more noble superhero. But then, I could be all of them; I no longer have to choose between my multiple personalities. I can just breathe - wings in, wings out.





To find out more about The American Lady, or Hunter's Butterfly, see the May 6, 2009 posting in the archive of this blog.


Friday, August 7, 2009

"THAT'S FRITILARIOUS!"

Everywhere I turn lately, these Fritilary butterflies are flitting around. I don't recall seeing so many. In spite of the clouds and rain, could this be The Year Of The Fritilary? They are a bit of a challenge to photograph; I had to take lots of rapid fire shots as the butterflies close their wings nearly the second they land. Because they are skittish, I chose a spot in the garden where I had seen them feeding, then planted myself and waited for them to come. I also used a 400mm lens, so I didn't have to be too close to them, or them to me. Of course, the mosquitoes were also abundant but I had to let them bite me. If I slapped and swatted, that would have spooked the Fritilarys. To stand still while being bitten by insects requires a certain kind of Zen concentration. My mind wanders down the trail of West Nile Virus and Encephalitis, wondering if I'll know the symptoms in time. Afterall, a disciplined photographer can't go gettting all fritilarious, now can she?




Thursday, June 25, 2009

Eye Candy = Soul Feast


Just a little break from the denizens of the damp, those that lurk, slither, writhe and snap. This is a White Admiral butterfly. On the peony, its wings are open. After it moved to a leaf of Raspberry Wine bee balm, it closed its wings. I took these shots late in the day as the sun was near to setting. The cool evening light brings out the blues in the rhododendron blossoms. These photographs were taken in my garden.






Friday, March 27, 2009

Sequin Island Light


From Videos

From Videos


Last summer, I went to Seguin Island with friends. Afterward, I made this is video about the island and it's history. Sequin is a landmark familiar to most of us on Casco Bay. We see it off in the distance and hear the fog horn lowing in the night. But, not all of us get to 'know' her by going on the island. There is no anchorage and only five moorings maintained by the Coast Guard. Tying up is on a first come, first serve basis. To get to the island from the moorings requires a dingy or a good cold swim. I did go swimming while out there. The second I dove in I thought I had lost my mind and would surely have a heart attack. The water was so cold it sucked the breathe right out of me! Going onto an island by boat brings out the little kid in everyone. You can't help but think about pirates, ship wrecks, or being stranded. It stirs up feelings of adventure and as with any good adventure, feelings of vulnerability. What if you got stuck out there, or lost at sea along the way? Would you have what it takes to live out there?In the past, light house keepers have lived there year round. The island would have been a mean block of ice with no way off. Now, The Friends of Sequin (seguinisland.org - a non profit organization that maintains the light and keeper's facility) has 'keepers' just for the summer. The positions are already filled through 2010. In the summer, it's magic. The 360 degree vistas of the ocean are breathaking. You feel closer to heaven on top of that rock and more so up in the lighthouse tower. There's nothing quite like salt air and the Atlantic Ocean to make you feel really alive.