I OTTER Be Thankful

A few days ago, I was "driving to town," as we say around here. That means going to Bath, which is fifteen miles north. During the winter, it's where we have to go for all supplies, food or a restaurant meal as everything in Phippsburg is closed. I was on a mundane mission to a medical appointment and then to loiter around at a pharmacy for a prescription. Christmas is upon us, but I had done very little shopping. My mind has been elsewhere. While driving in a dismal funk, I turned on the radio. I was really annoyed to hear Christmas music. I knew I had to drag myself out of this mood eventually, but I was so deep in my personal wallow that I didn't know what could wrench me off my glowering mark. I have very little to complain about in my life, honestly. But that fact sometimes just makes me feel even more petulant and  bitchy, like a child that won't let go of a toy it doesn't want to play with, but only possess. I was feeling very sorry for myself, "It's mine and you can't have it, so leave me alone" my toddler brain grumped to myself. Then, I saw them! Three River Otters were cavorting on the ice of Center Pond. I wheeled the car around deftly executing a smooth u-ee. I watched them for a minute and saw that they were jumping into the water then back on the ice repeatedly. The seconds they were under the water would give me the chance to get closer for better shots. I began to move down the embankment each time they submerged. Tangled raspberry canes pulled my clothes and raked my skin; burdocks adhered to my pants as I creeped toward the ice edge. Positioning myself, I held stock still, camera aloft, waiting. It was eight degrees with a ten mile per hour wind. The below zero wind chill quickly turned my cheeks, lips and fingers numb. I wanted to get closer. "I wonder how thick this ice is......." I mused, looking at my feet on the edge. Peering through my view finder, I saw that the otters were making their way along the ice line as they fished and frolicked and were progressing in my direction! Great luck as the ice was way too thin to support my rolly-polly middle aged self. They came to within about 100 feet of me. My heart was racing I was so excited! I had never seen otters before and that I was getting to photograph them was almost too much to bear! Then, one got up onto the ice. It looked directly at me and vocalized repeatedly, a rasping, throaty cat's hiss. Its whiskers were enormous and so were its teeth. My delight shifted to anxiety as, hissing, it advanced toward me. At about four feet long, it was big, big enough to take me down if it wanted to. I looked away from the view finder to see where the others were. Looking like dogs, they were swimming around and peering over the edge of the ice at me. If the curious one decided to run at me, I was at a real disadvantage for escape having clambered down the brushy embankment to the ice edge. These members of the weasel family are fast on land and can run at 15mph. River Otters are solitary unless a mother is with her young. This was probably mom up on the ice investigating me while her youngsters were swimming. They have big teeth for eating aquatic organisms, fish, mollusks, crayfish and the like. Otters have a high metabolic rate so have to eat a lot every day. They will stay in an area as long as they can get food and where there is open water. I will continue to look for them at Center Pond as there is a race of open water where a stream comes in all winter. Their presence speaks to the health of our pond as otters will leave a polluted area. In the wild, they live about 10 years, so they could be with us for years to come. I can tell you that there's nothing like a little otter to get you off your pity pot if you are feeling sorry for yourself. I know I "otter" be more thankful for the richness of my life than I sometimes am.

Bathrobe Birding - The Wrong Bird

Not only was I wearing a bathrobe when I took these shots, the bathrobe matched the flowers. The robe is also monogrammed, though I confess: not with my initials. Who says I have no sense of personal style? To get these photographs, I sit in my 'computer chair,' camera at the ready while I read e mails. The opportunity to get these shots only happens in the morning when the sun is still rising in the east. I must have the camera in my lap, set and ready to go or by the time I reach for it, the speedy little devils are gone. Before they show up, I take a test shot for exposure. Then, I wait. It takes a lot of bad shots to get a couple of really great ones. Many of the photos are mediocre if there is background clutter, or the bird is turned away, or there is too much wing movement or shadows or blown out feathers. I don't know about you, but I think these are really great ones. Yes, yes, I broke my elbow patting myself on the back there. The photo of the bird perched is not technically as good as the other two, but I like it because it shows character - the hummingbird's, not mine. I'll keep trying for better photographs, though. Better? What could be better? Well, it's the wrong Hummingbird. If it was male and the throat was blazing red, it would be a more spectacular photograph. Maybe I can get the girls to wear tiny, red ascots for me. After all, I'm wearing someone else's robe.

SOMEWHERE 2009

Here's a five minute video to cheer you up. It's a medley of wildlife and garden photography from the coast of Maine, mostly in Phippsburg. I took these shots over the past month, rain or shine. We have had record breaking rains and cloudy days, such that it's been brain crushing. I'm trying to be positive. The music is by Aselin Debison. She is preforming a medley, too. Her's is a combination of Somewhere Over The Rainbow and It's A Wonderful World (if you want to see the video full screen, click on the small square on the bottom right of the video screen).

"Oh, She's A Man Eater!"

This lovely, diminutive wildflower is commonly called Yellow Bladderwort, a nasty moniker for such a pretty thing. It conjures all kinds of disgusting images, especially keeping in mind that I'm a Registered Nurse. This flower grows in freshwater billabongs and stagnant pools in many places in the world from Maine to Australia. The blossom is about the size of a dime. It rises above the water 8 inches on a thin stalk. Below the water lies the source of the name, a series of bladders entwined in filament like roots. The plant is not attached to the soil, but is free-floating. It was believed that these bladders kept the plant afloat, but not so. Utricularia macrorhiza is carnivorous. The bladders create a vacuum suction pulling in microscopic animal life. Once trapped, the animals are slowly digested by secreted enzymes. Gruesome! These flowers are so small, that I could only truly appreciate their beauty through my camera lens. I could'nt get close enough to see the details of the petals without it. I laid on a dock cantalevering my body out over the water. It was the kind of area where you could not pay me to swim. The Bullfrogs were chal-umping amongt the rushes and waterlilies while I tried to ignore the mosquitoes biting me. In the dark water, a few Bloodsuckers slithered by. If the Bladderwort was a bigger plant, this whole scene could make the screenplay for Jaws look like child's play!

Utricularia macrorhiza, Phippsburg, Maine

Moving Chelydra

I was asked how I moved the Snapper I had photographed and if I had just happened to have a snow shovel in my car. Because I'm a gardener, my car is a traveling tool box, so shovel? Yes. After all, I was able at a moment's notice to de-bone a full sized Wild turkey on the side of the road. Now, that's preparedness! The turkey was, however, dead. It did not fight back nor was I expecting it to do so. Other than some necrotizing flesh eating bacterial disease that I might have contracted, there was little risk to my well being. That Snapper, on the other hand, could have done me real damage. I did not move it. I left her to her own devices including crossing a major road and wished her well. In this video, a woman who obviously has experience, intervenes and moves them. If you have any doubt what so ever about how fast this turtle can be, watch this video. I jumped when I watched it. You might want to have a good, stiff Scotch before you watch this.