Bearly awake

At 7.15am today I wandered into the kitchen for my first double espresso, glanced out of the window, and saw this:

Bear

Not much to add really.  You are supposed to bring bird feeders in during the summer, for exactly this reason, and mine is coming in now!

But I did get some great photos:

Bear

See how delicately he/she uses his huge paws:

BearBear

I hope I will never get closer to a bear than this.

PS I should add that this is an American Black Bear, Ursus americanus, and an adult male can weigh up to 250Kg. They are shy, and I have only ever seen them before from a car, disappearing into the woods. But when they emerge from hibernation in the spring they are very hungry. Up the road from me, one tried to break into a car that had a sack of birdseed on the back seat. Probably the same bear.

PPS A neighbor, Jo Radner, wrote this marvelous poem after a somewhat similar encounter. I have her permission to share it with you, but for some reason I can’t persuade it to single-space, so it looks longer than it is!

 Morning Blessings 2

 

Se’u marom eyneychem u’ru mi vara eyleh?

Lift up your eyes and see – who created all this?

 

Se’u marom eyneychem u’ru. . .

 

Before I open my eyes I know

the woods are full of life.

Shrill squirrels

sardonic jays

a honking goose flies up the lake

crows are discussing something nearby

and that woodpecker, nature’s jackhammer,

must have bored clear through that tree by now.

 

It’s when I open my eyes that I see

the quiet ones, the waiting ones –

the little birds,

finches,

nuthatches,

chickadees,

titmice –

and I know it’s time for the new morning ritual:

put out the bird feeder.

 

It’s a new ritual

because of the bear.

 

She came late Sunday night

darker than the dark

a massive black shape

even under the deck light

a fluid, moving . . . nothing.

Feeling ridiculous, I stood

barefoot at the screen door.

“Shoo!” “Go away!”

“That’s bird food!”

She forgave my insolence,

strolled over,

raised her huge head

and studied me.

I noticed that her chin was brown,

not black;

her dark eyes glinted under the light;

her teeth (was she smiling?) were white.

I mended my manners.

“Good evening,” I said.

She stood tall,

pivoted with astounding poise,

embraced the bird feeder,

glanced back at me once,

gracefully stepped off the deck

and rode the feeder to the ground

as its iron hanger curved into a new arc.

 

I have not seen her since.

But each night,

as I bring the tooth-dented feeder indoors,

I scan the dark for her darkness,

and apologize.

 

. . . mi vara eyleh?

 

 

 

 

 

Ducks on honeymoon

I promised to show you some of the waterfowl that stay and breed, including Wood Ducks and mergansers,

The most dramatic are the Wood Ducks. They are very shy, but this pair flew in over my head without noticing me, and settled down.

Wood ducks

The males in breeding plumage are extremely handsome, bedecked in an almost military outfit:

Wood ducks

The females are much more discreet:

Wood ducks

I don’t think they are breeding on my pond this year, but last year they did.

We have Canada Geese (yes, you probably hate them but this is their home territory, and I find them rather impressive.) About 8 of them arrived, paired off, then fought for territory,

Canada Goose

As far as I can tell only one pair has stayed put. This pair have chosen an old beaver lodge to raise their young.

Canada Goose

Feeding on the roots of water plants while they wait for everything to green up again.

Canada goose

Finally, ten ducklings, now confirmed by Cornell’s eBird moderators as a female Hooded Merganser and her ducklings, with a Black Duck behind them.

Common mergansers with ducklings

I am actually very worried about them because we have had no rain, and they have chosen an old beaver pond whose dam is no longer being maintained. It is drying out fast, and I don’t know how they will manage. Perhaps she will have to move them, like the  mother in Make Way for Ducklings, a Boston children’s classic by Robert McCloskey.

 

ducklingspg46-47_custom-8c2b8fd4e8494177837c3537339224efc25b5969-s1100-c15

PS An earlier version of this post expressed bewilderment at the identity of the ducklings, now thankfully sorted out for me by the Cornell experts!

Frog Blog 11: Dry land!

The very first froglet climbed out of the water and onto a rock this afternoon!

Here he is, the first to make it to frog-hood!

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He/she still has a tail, although it is much shorter than it was, as you can see by comparing his tail to the one of the tadpole on the left, who hasn’t developed quite as fast and still has a much longer tail.

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But he is ready to go, at the grand old age of 39 days. The cells of his tail will now gently die and be used to build new and different cells, until the tail is all gone. This clever trick is called apoptosis, a very good word to impress your friends with.

If he still seems happy, I will keep him for a few more days as his tail shrinks, take one more photo for you, and then put him back in his original pond.

But if he seems eager to explore a larger world right away, I may let him go right away, and he will be fine. And in that case this will be the last Frog Blog. I hope you have enjoyed them.

“The scattered violets lie..”

The spring comes late here, and the earliest wildflowers are deep in the woods, where the trees are not yet in leaf, and there is still plenty of light. Spring is also short, so these early flowers are often on tiny plants, since the spring growing period doesn’t allow much time for anything to grow tall before it flowers.

I like the violets and pansies, all members of the Viola family. Here are a few for you to enjoy.

A Northern White Violet, Viola pallens:

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A Round-leaved Violet, Viola rotundifolia:

Round-leaved Violet

A Common Blue Violet, Viola papilionacea:

Common Blue Violet

The last one for today is not a viola, but it is very tiny, and very deep in the woods! It is called Goldthread, Coptis groenlandica, and has a single 1/2″ flower, which is exquisite:

Goldthread

The white “petals” are actually sepals, and the real flower is the central portion. The true petals are the golden yellow club shapes, each with a cup-shaped tip that holds nectar.

My title is from the poem March Violet by John Clare. Violets here in Maine are not till late April or early May.

Where last years leaves & weeds decay
March violets are in blow
I’d rake the rubbish all away
& give them room to grow

Near neighbour to the Arum proud
Where dew drops fall & sleep
As purple as a fallen cloud
March violets bloom & creep

Scenting the gales of early morn
They smell before they’re seen
Peeping beneath the old white thorn
That shows its tender green

The lambs will nible by their bloom
& eat them day by day
Till briars forbid his steps to come
& Then he skips away

Mid nettle stalks that wither there
& on the greensward lie
All bleaching in the thin march air
The scattered violets lie

I know the place it is a place
In spring where nettles come
There milk white violets show their face
& blue ones earlier bloom

 

Frog Blog 10: Fully armed!

The tadpoles are almost frogs… they have got arms as well as legs! Hooray! Look at this splendid fellow, 37 days after hatching:

DSC05877

He is still breathing through gillls, but not for much longer, so I have made sure there is an accessible  rock for them all to climb onto. And soon his tail will begin to shrink. And my work will be done.

Meanwhile, back at the pond, I found a splendid caddisfly who had made a long thin case, from which he emerged looking very fierce with his yellow and black striped head:

Frog

He walked around, hunting for something, dragging his long thin house with him:

 

I am enjoying all these underwater creatures, who seem so determined and oblivious to us big people on dry ground above them. I don’t think they even know we are there, nor care.

 

 

Timberdoodle in road

Saturday May 9th started with snow, only an inch but cold and windy, so not at all appealing for a walk. It was Cornell’s Big Bird Day, so I felt I was supposed to go birding, but I wimped out and stayed inside till midday, when it cleared up. Then I drove to a nearby hill for a hike, and on the way back, crossing the road, a woodcock:

American Woodcock, possibly demale guarding nest?

I had never seen an American Woodcock,  Scolopax minor, so I was hugely excited. I stopped (of course), and got out my camera. Instead of scuttling off into the woods it stopped, and slowly hunkered down:

American Woodcock, possibly demale guarding nest?

And there it stayed. I crept slowly closer, it didn’t budge, and I got this photo:

 

American Woodcock, possibly demale guarding nest?

It did not seem to be injured when it was walking, and my guess is she had a nest nearby, and this was her attempt to hide in plain sight, sadly not very effective on tarmac.  I left her in peace, and drove on.

I have since been reading up on woodcocks. They do indeed sometime react to threats near their nests by freezing low on the ground. They have the wonderful local name of Timberdoodles, which is what I will now always call them. Their eyes are on the sides of their heads, so they have 360 degree vision, and the tips of their bills are flexible, to help them dig for earthworms, their main diet. Look closely below:

American Woodcock, possibly demale guarding nest?

The males have a famously flamboyant mating ritual, called “roding”, in which they fly at dusk saying “Peent”. I couldn’t find any good videos of this, let me know if you find one and I’ll add a link.

I am sad to say that their close relative the Eurasian Woodcock is traditionally a British upper-class delicacy. Lord Grantham and his family would have enjoyed roasted woodcocks like these.

https://www.houseofcheviot.com/blog/TRADITIONALROASTWOODCOCK/

Frog Blog 9: Real legs, and walking houses

The tadpoles’ legs look like proper frogs’ legs now, don’t they?

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Not only the frogs think spring is coming.  The maple trees are in flower,

DSC04381

and their tiny bright red flowers fall off onto the pond. The photo below has three caddis flies in their home-built houses . They usually use of bits of brown reed, like the top and bottom ones in the photo below, but the one in the middle decided to put on its party clothes, and chose a maple flower instead:

DSC05421

Here is a close up:

DSC05428I think he chose well, don’t you?

And here he is going for a stroll, with his house: