For some time, friends have been suggesting I start a blog, and I have finally got around to trying. I live in two wild and beautiful places: Western Maine , USA, and the Cotswolds, England. I also travel to far-flung much wilder places.
I take photos with my trusted Panasonic Lumix, sometimes beautiful photos, more often photos that tell a story.
The blog will be erratic, depending on what catches my eye.
For my first post, from Maine, here are the tree swallows that nested in our old purple martin house and raised four young. They fledged two weeks ago.
Talk about airmiles. The Red Knot, Calidris canutus rufa , a sandpiper, enjoys the reputation of undertaking one of the longest migrations in the natural world, a round-trip as long as 19,000 miles. They breed in the high Arctic, but they over-winter all along the coasts of the Americas, as far south as Patagonia. This map shows their range in the Americas:
They weight in at under 5oz, yet they can fly 5000 miles without touching the ground.
In South Carolina, there is a population that over-winters there, but it is also a stop-over point for birds who have come from much further south and are on their way to their Arctic honeymoon hotels. The numbers are huge:
These are on a low-lying unoccupied sandbar island, now protected from humans during migration and nesting season, called Deveaux Bank. All the photos are taken from a boat offshore, which was bobbing around, so they are a little quavery! It is serenely beautiful:
What, for the Red Knots, makes it “vaut le détour”, as the Guide Michelin would say, is the presence of vast numbers of prehistoric horseshoe crabs mating and laying small green eggs.
The eggs are a rich and very digestible food source to support these birds on their long migration, but the horseshoe crabs were over-fished, both because they make good bait for fishermen, and because scientists use their blue blood (yes, really, see below for more*) to test for bacterial contamination. Probably as a result, Red Knot numbers dropped sharply in the 2000’s, and in 2014 this subspecies was listed as threatened by the US Endangered Species Act.
Once they reach breeding season, their plumage acquires a reddish color, as you can see in the image below from the All About Birds website:
but at the moment they are grayish buff. In flight, the birds have a white line running the length of their wings , like the center bird in the photo below (The larger reddish bird with a long bill is a Marbled Godwit. )
Deveaux Bank is crammed with birds, including a colony of Brown Pelicans
On our return boat journey to Wadmalaw Island, we saw a Long-billed Curlew, apparently the first seen around here in some time, with an oystercatcher curled up beneath his feet:
A magical day off the shore of this ever-changing sandbank island.
P.S. I am very grateful to Dana Beach, who took me to Deveaux, and who was instrumental through the Coastal Conservation League in getting it protected in 2015. Here is some more information:
The Pileated Woodpecker, Dryocopus pileatus, also known as a logcock, has a splendid Latin name, about which more later. To start, let’s find one.
In the woods, the first thing you notice is a pile of wood chips,
and when you look up, you see a strange rectangular hole, which looks as though it was made by a human with a fretsaw.
Then you might hear hammering, and there he is.
They are the largest woodpecker in North America, 16-19inches in length. You can tell this one is a male by his full red cap that extends all the way to his beak, and by his red ‘moustache’ (which is actually alongside his bill not above it), and he has a fine powerful bill:
He uses that bill to bash away noisily, which is usually how you find them. .
This one is excavating for food, and he has now found something and is probing deep in his hole, with his crest raised and his eyes half closed in ecstasy:
Look closely at the shape of that red crest and cap. Now stay with me here: look carefully at the seal of the US Senate, below, and the red shape in the top center.
Does it remind you of anything? Despite appearances, the US Senate did not put a woodpecker on their seal. Instead, for quite different reasons, both refer to the felt cap worn by freed slaves in late Republican Rome, or pileus in Latin. Here Odysseus is wearing a white one:
But by the Renaissance it is usually red, and signified eastern origins, here on the Kings from the East,
Then it was adopted by the French revolutionaries, who referred to it as the Bonnet Rouge, or the Phrygian cap.
The Senate chose it as a symbol of liberty, and the ornithologists chose it simply for the physical resemblance between the pileus and the woodpecker’s cap, and named this bird Dryocopus pileatus.
PS John J Audobon’s 1838 text on this bird is well worth reading:
Roseate spoonbills, Platalea ajaja, are an ill-assorted mixture of delicate beauty and clumsy absurdity. Their elegant feathers shade from white through shell-pink to coral, but their comically oversized bills are spatula-shaped with rounded ends. They are a New World species, and I have seen them once before, in the Pantanal in Brazil. In the USA, they are limited to coastal areas in Florida and Texas
To my delight, there is one tiny (non-breeding) colony of them here in South Carolina, at the Donnelley Wildlife Management Area, and the conservationist Dana Beach explained how to find it, so off we went. We drove around in a circle for a while, failing to see anything, and just as we were on the verge of deciding to abort, there they were.
They are waders, nearly three feet tall, and mainly feed on crustaceans and fish.
The crustaceans are responsible for the pink coloration of their feathers (just as they are for flamingoes), which get pinker with age.
They feed by scything their bills from side to side as they slowly move forward:
The bills are translucent:
We admired them for a while, then decided to picnic a little further down the pond. They moved too, and as we continued to watch we realized that they were behaving rather oddly. They were clustered together, poking at something in the water.
It was an alligator, and they poked and pecked at it for more than five minutes, and the alligator was astonishingly not goaded into retaliation.
Occasionally it did spook them a little:
But not enough to scare them off:
We have since asked around, and failed to find any reports of this behavior, except for one story in the Daily Mail!
Alligators are in fact useful to spoonbills, because they eat predators like raccoons who might otherwise threaten the spoonbills’ land-based nests, so I don’t know why the spoonbills harassed it (nor why it didn’t fight back). One possibility is that its skin was encrusted with tiny edible creatures that spoonbills enjoy, and that the alligator is happy to be rid of, just as tiny fish groom bigger fish.
After all that activity, the show ended with a grooming session:
PS All of these are juveniles, since they have a completely feathered head. After about 15 months it becomes pale yellowish green and nearly bald.
We all know that at one point dinosaurs ruled the world, and then, somehow, us mammals took over. But modern mammal vs reptile encounters can go in either direction. You may well think I am obsessed by otters, but I was truly not thinking about them down in South Carolina. Instead, I was keeping my eyes out for alligators:
There was a small one in my friend’s pond, and I had just got it into focus when what should swim round the corner into the shot but… an otter:
After a brief moment’s reflection, it wisely dived, and that was that.
I started to Google “Do alligators eat otters?”, and what I found astonished me. Story after story showing the reverse: an otter killing and eating a sizable alligator.
Down in the Pantanal, the BBC filmed a family of giant otters winning a fight with a caiman.
Of course, alligators can and do eat otters, but it isn’t considered newsworthy so it barely shows up in a Google search. But “otter eats alligator” turns up dozens of stories!
And then I returned home to Maine, and there was my very own warm-blooded otter, with a large cold-blooded fish, and not an alligator in sight.
So it seems that the mammals still win…
PS The ice is melting, and as soon as some open water appeared so did the waterfowl. There is still plenty of ice, as you can see, but I spotted Canada Geese, Green-winged Teal, Hooded Mergansers, Common Mergansers, Common Goldeneyes, Wood Ducks, and American Black Ducks.
I have spent the last three weeks on an island in South Carolina called Wadmalaw, a very soothing place in the Low Country delta landscape (where Carolina Gold rice was once the principal crop). At low tide the mudflats are the hunting ground of the majestic Great White Egret:
These highly successful three-foot-tall birds are widely distributed, but they mainly breed in warmer climes. This one non-breeding one is in the Cotswolds, by a fresh water stream:
Back in Wadmalaw, they stride along the water’s edge:
pouncing on small fish and crustaceans:
But even shellfish can fight back. This next egret was roosting on the edge of a former rice impoundment ( a small pond dug to serve as a fresh-water reservoir for the rice fields). Look at the raised foot: its toe has been trapped by a mussel:
The poor bird seemed unable to dislodge it:
The ornamental toe-ring did not seem to seriously impede the bird. It did some stretches and downward dogs (downward egrets?):
This is actually a part of its courtship display, called “crouching” and indeed it is in breeding plumage. You can see the long scapular aigrettes (extending beyond the tail):
Also signifying breeding readiness is the greenish skin around the eye, and between the eye and the beak (the lores), and the orange bill.
Eventually this male flew off, mussel dangling below, and joined a second egret deep in the trees on the opposite side of the pond, perhaps its mate. Let’s hope she likes mussels.
PS This bird is probably a male, although females also assume breeding plumage, and do a little displaying once the pair bond is formed. A beautifully detailed description of Great White Egret courtship displays can be found here:
Mock, D. W. (1978b). Pair-formation displays of the Great Egret. Condor 80:159-172.
PPS Here is a short video of a slightly different portion of its mating dance,
[After this blog I’ll be in South Carolina for 3 weeks, so the blog will take a break. Maybe I will find a story down there to bring you on my return.]
I thought I was done with otters, but no. Three weeks after my previous encounters, I saw him again. My first glimpse was a small movement of a tiny dark sliver of its head behind a snowbank, near the same air hole it had used before. Pure luck that I was looking in that direction. The top of the head is more or less in the centre of the photo below:
When I moved to higher ground to see over the snowbank, lo and behold it had caught a fish.
My friendly local expert, Ed Poliquin, says it was probably a perch or a sucker. The otter munched:
Looked straight at me in a toothy sort of way:
cast a baleful place at me over his shoulder
and went back in the water.
P.S. I keep calling him ”him”, since he is not able to tell me his preferred pronouns, but it is entirely possible that he is a she. This is the time of year when these otters start to give birth, and she did look rather fat in the one photo I got of her rolling on her back… If that were the case, she would soon disappear for a while, and then reappear in a couple of months with from one to five babies.. You will be the first to know.
P.P.S. A week or so before this, I saw fish jumping out of the water in a tiny patch that wasn’t iced in, and then suddenly something big broke the surface, the water boiled, and the fish went berserk
I have no idea what it was, but I suspect it was an otter hunting under the ice. I waited to see if something might emerge with a fish in its mouth, but no such luck.
Or of course it might have been the Loch Sabattus monster… or a great white shark.
In England, mink are an invasive foreign species, but here in Maine they are native and they stay active through the long hard winters. They are secretive, and mostly nocturnal, but last winter I did see one running around one of my ponds. Unusually for me, I had no camera. Sod’s Law, as we say in England. On another day, though, I discovered where one of them lived.
American Mink, Neovison vison, live in dens usually near water, under rocks or tree roots. I was walking towards a beaver wetland when I found this one. I saw some scat, and I realized that I was looking at a midden (a place where an animal or a group of animals habitually defecates) in the lower left of the photo below, and then I realized that a few feet away was a large hole, in the center of the picture, just the right size for a 2-foot long mink,.
There was a well-worn trail connecting the two: clearly a fastidious animal who preferred to use the outhouse. Not unlike humans, really. *
If you look closely at the scat (optional!), it contains fish scales and fish skin, typical of mink, who can swim 100 feet underwater (including under the ice) when they hunt. They are carnivores, and will eat small mammals like muskrats and chipmunks, and also snakes and frogs.
Mink travel along streams and the edges of ponds, leaving tracks like these:
Every now and again, you can find a perfectly cylindrical vertical hole , usually going right down through the snow into the water, where they have been hunting for something or other. Here are four of them!
This morning I found tracks leading down a hill, then a short slide into a bigger hole in the stream.
I find it reassuring to know that I have a healthy mink population, even if I never actually see them!
Since I don’t have my own photos of mink, here is a spectacular one to finish with:
I can’t resist ending with a mink story, even though it doesn’t cast my ancestors in a very good light. My grandfather, after ostrich farming and then gold-prospecting in Kenya, returned to the UK in the 1930’s and took up mink farming. As a result my grandmother knew her furs. When she was in her 80’s, and not very well off, she would occasionally go to Harrods fur department and ask to see the mink coats. When they brought some out she would wave them away dismissively, and say that these were made of male pelts, and she only wanted to see the suppler female ones. They were most impressed by her expertise. Of course, she never bought anything.
*This perfectly reasonable abhorrence of defecating in one’s residence is one reason India still has difficulty stopping the practice of heading for the great outdoors. Even when the government builds latrines, many people won’t use them because defecating indoors is viewed as unclean.
If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you will know that turkeys have starred before, but always in the spring or summer. Since they do not migrate, even when the snow is thick on the ground they are still wandering the woods foraging. You see their tracks, like the ones on the left below, with more in the background:
The other day, out of the woods they came, for all the world like a band of greatcoated marauders from the Russian steppes:
In close-up they are even more military-looking:
Those photos were taken from the desk, through the window. They rounded the corner of the house, so I crept outside to try and get a better shot, but I only succeeded in scaring them:
They ran across the back yard towards the field, and took off: here you can see their tracks going from right to left, taking an abrupt turn to face downhill and line up their takeoffs, and ending sharply as they got airborne. (The big sloppy tracks are from my snowshoes!)
One of them left faint wing marks in the snow
They are pretty good flyers, so all I got was a picture of two rear ends and pale wing feathers.
Male turkeys are heavy, ungainly birds, up to 24lbs (11Kg), and their wings are not very large to carry such a weight , up to 4ft 9in (1.5m) or so, so it is always disconcerting to see them in flight.
[After my otter excitement last week, I promised that I’d detour away from Maine and retrieve some photos I took in my pre-blog days. Here they are.]
The Giant Otter, Pteronura brasiliensis, is native to the Amazon, Orinoco and La Plata river systems in South America. I took these photos in 2013 in the Pantanal in Brazil, the largest wetland in the world, sadly badly scarred by wildfires in the last few years.
Giant Otters are very large animals, the males weighing up to 70lbs and measuring 6 feet long, excluding tail., which can add another 2 feet.
The Pantanal is perfect habitat for them, even in the dry season. We saw them on the Cuiabá River, from our small boat, just visible in the photo. They live in family groups of a monogamous pair and the young from several breeding seasons. This group had seven members, including two small pups.
Like the North American River Otter, they love to slide. This one is descending a sand bank into the river:
Fish are abundant, and otters are fierce hunters:
with impressive teeth and jaws:
It was late afternoon, and the babies were being given their evening bath, not without protest. .
This one wasn’t too keen, but the ruthlessly efficient adults teamed up and pushed it underwater to do a thorough job:
Grooming distributes oil through their pelt, rendering it waterproof.
They have a rather endearing behavior called periscoping, in which they stick their head above the water to check for danger, just like the grey whales do in San Ignacio Lagoon (but on a smaller scale!). Watch for a little head swimming in from behind the fallen tree on the right hand side:
These spectacular animals are now endangered as their habitat steadily shrinks, and gets polluted and over-fished. I have also seen them on the Napo River (a tributary of the Amazon) in Ecuador, where they are Critically Endangered. The IUCN Red List website points out that “Rivers are roads into the forest, this is where people settle, where gold mining takes place, where there is competition for fish or overfishing, where “green” energy can be harvested, where climate change will have strong impacts, where contamination can be spread rapidly, and so on. This vital link to rivers and wetlands renders the Giant Otter much more susceptible than most other comparable large predators of the Amazon, such as the Jaguar. “
To end with, a poem for all you otter-dreamers out there..
Last time was mostly clues and hints. This time, pay dirt. I saw a dark shape on the far far side of my beaver pond next to a small patch of open water. Thrilled, I realized it was an otter, but then it slipped silently back into the water and under the ice. Luckily I am patient, and I waited. About 15 minutes later it popped up in a different unseen breathing hole at the base of a beaver lodge, and came all the way out.
It had a good roll in the snow, which helps to clean and dry its waterproof fur:
and I even got a short video:
Then it started to climb up the beaver lodge, behind an inconveniently placed tree,
I moved, and to my utter delight I watched it slide down the far side of the beaver lodge, just having fun. Look hard and you can just see it, near the top of the lodge behind the branches.
It went back in the water, and I thought the show was over, but 10 minutes later it returned, and had a good scratch,
and then settled down for a nap, for all the world like a dog.
The next day, on my daily walk, I assumed the otter would have moved on, but before I even reached the pond he was there, and this time closer, so I got some more photos. I like this one because you get a sense of his strength and size and sleekness, though his long tail is submerged and invisible. .
Sometime dreams do come true.
He stayed around for one more day, in the far distance, then left, but I have since seen slide marks and scat, so he is still around somewhere.
Before I started this blog, I went to the Pantanal in Brazil and had wonderful giant otter encounters, so I think next time I might dig out more of my photos from that trip and show you them in action.
PS I found some terrific clear otter tracks after my last post, so I have updated it. If you want to take a look, click January 2021 in the sidebar.
PPS You might think an otter’s feet (which lack fur) would freeze when they are diving under the ice, and sleeping on top of it for that matter. What stops this happening is counter-current circulation, explained here. It is also found in sea mammals like dolphins, and the feet of birds (like the owl from my last post).
Figure 2 A countercurrent heat exchange system. (a) Schematic representation. (b) Blood supply to the flipper of the dolphin, with a schematic cross-section of an artery and the surrounding veins to the left. Arterial blood is shown in red, venous blood in blue. Pink arrows denote heat flow; yellow arrows showdirection of blood flow