Signs of Fall

At a friend's house recently, I noticed

some early signs that fall is just around the corner.

This is one of the last columbine blossoms . . . 

The woodpile is growing,

and the resident chipmunk is gathering

his winter stores by the mouthful . . . 

Early Morning at the Beach

An early morning walk along the beach

at the north end of Hampton

yielded some interesting colors and patterns

as the sun rose and the tide was going out.

I must go down to the seas again

When I was in junior high, our English teacher had us memorize a new poem each week. And one of those came back to me the other day. Do you remember John Masefield's poem Sea-Fever, especially the beginning of the second stanza?

"I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;"

Two days ago, I did just that -- went down to the sea again, with local high school science students. Every year a group of biology and environmental science students from Plymouth Regional High School go to Odiorne Point State Park (near Portsmouth) for an all-day working field trip. I've helped chaperone this trip for several years while I was librarian at the high school -- there were actually two of us who came out of retirement to help again this year.

Odiorne Point State Park is the last undeveloped section of shoreline in New Hampshire, is the site of the first New Hampshire settlement in 1623, and served an important military role during World War II. The salt marsh area was very important for the early settlers, who harvested the marsh hay every year. And the area was also part of the Portsmouth harbor defense during World War II; the camouflaged concrete gun casements and gun mounts are still visible.

But the varied natural habitats of Odiorne Point were the primary focus of our trip on Monday -- the salt marsh, the estuaries, and the rocky shore. The students recorded water temperatures and water density; they collected and examined organisms with a seine net (and, of course, returned all the organisms to the water).



Each group ran a transect line from the top of the rocky beach down to the water edge -- they measured and mapped elevation changes along the line, measured tidal changes as the tide came in, collected plankton samples, recorded organism identification and quantities at measured points along their transect line. All this (and even more) data will be analyzed in the classroom when they get back to school.

The day was a lot of fun and the weather was perfect. Hats off to all the students, who were prepared and worked well together. And hats off to the hard-working teachers and aides who plan and run this valuable hands-on educational experience!!

Why does the grouse cross the road?

For the same reason that the chicken does, it seems . . . to get to the other side.

We had just left the house the other day when we saw a quail-like bird crossing the road in front of us. And when we drove back through about an hour later, we saw the same bird slowly crossing the road the other way. What gives?

So as soon as we got home, I walked back up with my camera. And sure enough, the bird was still there, just standing under a tree in front of the corner house. It let me get within a couple feet of it and even started walking toward me as I was taking pictures. It seemed very content to be there, but I backed off, not wanting to startle it.















This was another first for me -- a ruffed grouse. And as I was reading several descriptions on web sites, I found a few that said that sometimes they will seem "tame" if they have not been around agressive predators a great deal.

The spring days are warming up, and so are the feeders. The pine siskins are fighting for the available spots on the feeders, so I spread some seed on the deck railing . . . and pretty soon that was busy, too.

Doing Spirals

I saw the brown creeper again yesterday, spiraling up the tree from the bottom -- almost didn't see him against the dark bark of the tree. I took these photos just about the same time last year.

Signs of Spring -- and another first

I'm finally beginning to believe that spring really is on the way. There is still plenty of snow on the ground in our area, but winter is slowly fading away. The snow banks along the roads are dirty, the potholes are growing, the mud is overtaking the back roads, and the annual "Frost Heaves" signs are sprouting like weeds.

As the temperatures gradually inch up and the days lengthen, the bird population is changing, too. The flocks of goldfinches are larger, the chickadees are noisier, and the blue jays are back with their bossy voices.

While I've had a few white-breasted nuthatches all winter, I've suddenly been getting a lot of the smaller red-breasted nuthatches. They do a fast grab and run at the sunflower chips, but stay much longer on the suet feeder. As fast as they are, they've been easier to get photos of than the larger white-breasted nuthatch.


This winter I've also added a few "firsts" to my bird life list. About three weeks ago I had a white-winged crossbill under my feeders. Yesterday, I had a LBJ (little brown jobby) with reddish chest up in the tree watching me for quite awhile. But it wasn't the usual house finch or purple finch. First I had a male common redpoll, then later a female staring at me from the branch.



Then, all of a sudden, I had about half a dozen common redpolls under the feeder.So, while winter probably hasn't had its last hurrah, signs of spring are here.

P.S. -- Did you look up last night and see the space station and shuttle overhead? It was a perfectly clear night and amazing to see how fast it seemed to move across the sky.

I wish I had an explanation for this, but I don't . . .

I'm on our deck with the shovel and ice chopper, making lots of racket -- and the nuthatches are at the suet feeder right next to me, chattering away.

But when I'm standing there with my camera, not making a move or a sound -- all the birds disappear. What do they know that I don't?

From Winona to Waukewan

Winona Road is one of New Hampshire's back roads -- a picturesque route between Ashland, Center Harbor and Meredith. This view is from a little bridge over the connection between two lakes, looking at Lake Winona from its southern end.




It was a cold February morning -- the skies were beginning to brighten, but the cold had left a thin layer of frost on all the bare branches along the lakes.







Looking the other direction from the bridge, the water flows out of Lake Winona into what eventually becomes Lake Waukewan.

The cold winter morning did not deter the ducks' bottoms-up routine.

It's been a long time . . .

. . . since I've put anything up (2-1/2 months long)! So to start catching up, I'll post a couple photographs from this last week.

The other day, when I glanced out the window, I saw a goldfinch on the ground -- just one, unlike the flocks of sometimes thirty or forty that I've been seeing lately. But when I took a closer look, I realized it wasn't a goldfinch, although there was a greenish-yellow tint to it. It was actually a little larger and the other markings weren't right.

I went outside to get some photos of it and was surprised that it actually let me get about four feet from it without flying away.




After I pulled out the trusty bird ID guide, I determined it was a female White-Winged Crossbill (Loxia leucoptera). I have seen it a few other days, too, always alone and feeding from the ground. This is one to add to my list.